Milayna's Angel (5 page)

“Well, whatever it is, he has good taste.
It’s really pretty, Milayna.”

“Yeah, it is,” Xavier said, stopping next to
us in the hall. “Too bad.”

Muriel raised an eyebrow. I shrugged in
answer. I had no idea what he meant, and I didn’t care. I was
flying high, still reeling from the magic of Saturday night. Xavier
and his seat kicking weren’t going to spoil it.

I looked over my shoulder at him. “What’s too
bad?”

He shrugged. “You’re officially off the
market.”

“I was never on the market.”

“Hmm.” He passed me and leaned against the
classroom’s door frame.

“I’ll see you in calc.” Muriel left with a
wave in my direction, but I had a feeling it was more for Xavier
than it was for me. She was officially a member of the Xavier fan
club, as were most girls at school.

I walked into my classroom and sat down. I
felt him kick my seat. When I didn’t turn around, he kicked it
twice.

“I know you can feel that.” He gave my seat
another kick to make his point.

“Yeah, and it bugs the crap outta me.”

He laughed. He had a great laugh, and I
cursed myself for noticing. I wasn’t supposed to notice things like
that about other guys. He kicked the bottom of my seat again.

“What?” I snapped so loud that most of the
class turned and looked at us.

“So when’s the wedding?” Xavier leaned back
in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. His broad chest
pushed out toward me. His T-shirt strained over his body, showing
enough for everyone to get a good idea of the awesomeness that lay
beneath. My mouth went dry.

“There isn’t one. It isn’t an engagement
ring.”

“Looks like one.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not.”

“So there’s still hope,” His lips twitched
into a small grin.

I sighed and looked at him. “Hope for
what?”

“Me.”

“Nope. You’re fresh outta hope,” I turned my
back to him.

I looked up and saw Chay standing next to the
table, staring at Xavier. His blue-green eyes swirled with
anger.

“Hey, handsome.” I tugged on the sleeve of
his suede jacket.

He glared at Xavier a few beats before he
looked down at me and smiled. “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned down and
kissed me—a wet, lip-smacking, toe-curling, tongue-dancing kiss.
When he stood up, he looked at Xavier and smirked.

“Sit down, Chay,” He slid in the chair next
to me, leaning over to kiss me again. “I thought we ended the
jealous boyfriend routine,” I whispered.

“But he—”

“I had it under control. You trust me,
right?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled.

“Then stop.”

“I will when he does.” I gave a frustrated
sigh, and he grinned. I was a sucker for his smile. Full, lush lips
over straight white teeth. It was a mouth made to kiss, and we put
it to good use… a lot.

He’s aggravating. I wonder if I can switch
seats so they can have their pissing contest without me.

Class started and I felt a kick under my
seat. I ignored it. He kicked the bottom of my seat five times.
Each time, I gripped my pencil a little harder and clenched my
teeth. By the sixth kick, my nerves were strung so tight I broke my
pencil in half.

“Knock it off,” I said over my shoulder. He
handed me a piece of notebook paper. I grabbed it out of his hand,
hoping he’d get a paper cut.

Can I see your calc. homework?

I wadded the note up and tossed it over my
shoulder when the teacher wasn’t looking.

“I guess that’s a no.” There was a hint of
amusement in his voice.

***

Gym. I hated it. Didn’t everyone? I was good
at two things—swimming and softball. Other than those two, I sucked
at sports. I couldn’t hit little pucks across the floor, I didn’t
like white volleyballs flying toward my head, and I didn’t care if
I managed to get the little yellow tennis ball over the net.
Swimming and softball. That was it.

We were running track. That wasn’t too awful.
I pretended it was a big softball diamond without the bases.

What made the class unbearable was Shayla.
She used to be part of our group of demi-angels. Then she jumped
ship and sided with Azazel to become an Evil. I couldn’t stand to
look at her, much less share the same class with her. Not because I
was scared. The sight of her, knowing where her allegiance stood,
made me feel physically sick.

“Nice ring,” Shayla said as she passed me on
the track.

I didn’t answer, just focused on my feet
hitting the pavement, pushing myself to go faster, harder.

“It’s not over, you know. Azazel isn’t
finished with you.” She looked over her shoulder. Her gaze met mine
for a few seconds before she faced forward again.

Whatever.

I doubled over, holding my side. It felt like
something was burrowing a hole inside me. Breathing hard, I walked
to the side of the track out of the way of the other runners.
Images scrolled through my mind. I closed my eyes and pinched the
bridge of my nose between my fingers. My head pounded like someone
was using it for batting practice. My side burned, and it wasn’t
from running.

Me. I can’t breathe. Hands are around my
neck… choking me. Cutting off my airway. My chest burns, my head
pounds. I’m clawing at the person’s arms. I hear laughter in the
distance. My head swims… stars blink in front of my eyes…

The images vanished. I gasped for air,
filling my lungs until they were stretched to capacity. I looked
up, still squeezing my side with my hand. Shayla ran past, a
knowing smile on her lips.

***

Chay was waiting outside the locker room door
when I left gym class thirty minutes later. He immediately pulled
me into a massive hug. I smiled against his shoulder, inhaling his
scent. The smell of his cologne, fresh and outdoorsy, calmed
me.

“What’s wrong?” He pulled back to look at me.
I tried to pull him close again. Partly because being in his arms
made me feel safe and loved, but mostly because I knew he’d see the
truth in my eyes. He didn’t budge.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I was a terrible liar. He
read me like a book, and I knew it. “Your Spidey-sense for danger
must be on the fritz.” No one knew how or why he could sense when
one of the group was in trouble, just that he could.

“Yeah, right. Now tell me what happened.”

“Just got winded running track is all. I’m
fine.” I smiled up at him.

He blew out a breath of frustration.
“Milayna…”

Ugh. He knows I’m lying. Why can’t I get the
lying thing down? I can’t even pull off a teeny, tiny white
lie.

“I’m fine. Really. I’d tell you if there was
something wrong.”

Shayla walked out of the gym and brushed past
us, shouldering me so hard I stumbled into Chay. I rubbed the back
of my shoulder where she hit and shrugged at Chay. “I could do
without her,” I said.

“Why don’t you have your dad talk to the
counselor and rearrange your schedule? You know he would do it if
you’d ask.”

“I’m not going to show any weakness in front
of her or any of the Evils. Plus, I doubt there’d be a way for me
to arrange my schedule so I wasn’t in any classes with either an
Evil or a demi-demon. There’s only three months until graduation. I
can stick it out until then.”

He leaned down and kissed me lightly. “We
could arrange it so you and I would have more classes
together.”

I bit my lower lip, thinking about that. It
was tempting. “Sorry, but I’m not going to look like I’m running
scared and need protection.”

“You’re too stubborn,” he said, shaking me
gently.

I laughed at his scowl. “Yeah, and you love
that about me.”

He grunted in response, and I laughed
harder.

Wait, why did Chay sense I was in trouble? It
was just a vision.

***

“Can I talk to you, Dad?” I sat on the arm of
the chair where he was reading the newspaper.

“Of course, what’s up?” My dad set the
newspaper on the side table. He slipped off his reading glasses and
tossed them on top of the paper.

“I have a question about Azazel.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, you said after my eighteenth birthday,
I would be immune to his powers. That as the most powerful
demi-angel he wouldn’t be able to touch me. Right?”

“That’s right.”

“Is there any way he can get to me? I mean,
could he use someone else?”

My dad leaned forward in his chair. His
elbows rested on his knees, his hands falling between them. “What’s
going on, Milayna?”

I looked at the floor, twisting my fingers
together. For some reason that I didn’t understand, tears pressed
the back of my eyes. I didn’t have anything to cry about. Nothing
had happened but a few visions and a couple of threats from the
hobgoblin duo, who were notorious troublemakers. Nonetheless, big,
warm tears dripped from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

My dad didn’t wait for me to say anything
more. He reached out and pulled me into an enormous hug. I felt
small wrapped in his six-foot frame, like I had as a little girl. I
laid my head on his shoulder and smelled the familiar scent of his
spicy aftershave mixed with the slight smell of laundry detergent
that lingered on his shirt.

We sat like that for countless seconds, maybe
minutes. I looked around the family room. A bright, airy room, it
was decorated in muted sage and yellows. My dad and I sat next to a
small fire burning in the fireplace, family photos lining the
mantle. His favorite chair smelled of softened leather and squeaked
slightly when he moved. It was a room full of happy memories.
Birthdays and Christmases were celebrated there, and the sights and
sounds still resonated. I hated that those wonderful family moments
now shared a place with memories of Azazel and the suffering he
brought to my family, and everyone else’s.

I pulled back and looked at my dad. His face
was pinched with worry. Lines fanned out from his eyes and a small
frown pulled at his lips. “It’s just… well, the hobgoblins have
been hanging around again, telling me things aren’t over. Shayla
said the same thing at school today, and I’ve been having visions
of someone trying to kill me,” I said in a rush. When he didn’t
answer right away, I added, “I think.”

“Okay, I think we need to start over. Tell me
what the hobgoblins said.”

“That ‘
he’s coming
.’”

“Honey, you know Azazel can’t—”

“I told them that he didn’t have any power
over me, but then they said it wasn’t Azazel who was coming. When I
asked who, they told me it was the one who would kill me. And then
in gym today, Shayla told me it wasn’t over. That Azazel wasn’t
finished with me.”

“What about the visions? Tell me about
those.”

“I’ve had three. Instead of seeing someone
else in my vision like usual, I see myself. There’s no one else in
the vision. Well, that’s not true. There’s at least one other
person, but I can’t see them. It’s like I’m seeing myself through
their eyes. In the first one, I just saw myself talking to someone,
my hands held toward them, palms out, like I was pushing them away.
I couldn’t hear what I was saying. The second…” The tears started
again. “Well, in the second, it looked like someone was trying to
hurt me. They had a knife and raised it above my head just before
the vision dissolved. In the vision I had today, I know someone was
trying to hurt me because I could feel it. They were choking me. I
couldn’t take a breath, my lungs burned, and I could feel their
hands tightening around my neck.”

“Holy shit.”

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t often I heard
my dad swear. It worried me that he did then. It scared me.

“What does it mean, Dad?”

“What does what mean?” my mom asked, walking
into the room after putting my brother to bed.

“I’m not sure, Milayna. But I think we need
to be extra careful. The group needs to know what’s going on. It’s
time to pair up. Milayna, you aren’t to be alone. Demi-angels are
strongest when they are together.”

“Dad, I don’t want to go back to having
bodyguards everywhere I go. I’m stronger now. I don’t need the
group babysitting me like they did when Azazel was trying to get to
me. Going to and from school, to and from classes, at school
functions, at home while you’re at work—I don’t want them to put
their lives on hold for me again. To change their routines, their
plans, just to shadow my every movement.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his
thumb and finger. “Milayna, until we get this figured out, we need
to act like Azazel is indeed threatening your life and take
precautions.”

“Azazel?” my mother whispered. She walked
over and laid a hand on my dad’s shoulder. He reached up and took
it in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the top. I could sense the
fear in her, see it on her face.

I wondered if she would have married my dad
if she’d known then what she’d have to deal with in life. Being
married to an angel had to be difficult, and being the mother of
demi-angel children had to be even more worrisome. She had to look
over her shoulder day and night to make sure evil wasn’t touching
her family—it must’ve been exhausting. Was it fair of my dad to
have asked it of her? He’d been her guardian angel, after all. Was
it fair that he stopped guarding her and put her in harm’s way
instead?

Judging by the love on their faces every time
they looked at each other, by the long, passionate kisses they
snuck when they thought I wasn’t looking, and how they always held
each other’s hands, I guessed she wouldn’t have changed her mind.
They still acted like teenagers in love, not a couple who’d been
together for twenty-five years.

But sometimes, I’d see what looked like a
flash of guilt cross my father’s face, and I wondered if he asked
himself the same questions. If he’d ignored his love for her and
remained an angel, she wouldn’t be touched by Azazel’s evil.