Part I. Angel

Chapter 1

This is how an Angel works the streets for money.

"Work on your patience, work on your patience," Grace chanted, clutching her lightpistol tighter with every word, her back pressed firmly against the dumpster.

Oh, she couldn't do this! Couldn't just wait around until the Negri were done with the homeless man, even if there was no way of stopping the demon shadows from crawling inside and taking him over.

A wave of darkness flooded the alley. Grace holstered her lightpistol and sprung from behind the dumpster toward the fallen body. A howl filled the air.

Crap, crap, crap! She skidded to a halt next to the twitching man. Shadows retreated inside him like dark water, filling his gaping, toothless mouth, his bulging eyes, his ears and nose.

Grace dropped to her knees, grabbed his shoulders and shook as if that would throw the Negri out. This is stupid. But she had to do something.

She focused on the man's eyes - now nothing but two black holes - and tried to draw the darkness out by sheer willpower. A movement at the corner of her eye broke her concentration. The excess Negri had crawled away and now swirled on the red brick wall, creeping toward her.

Damn! Damn this to hell.

An itch spread from the back of her right hand, down to her inner wrist. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Grace turned her right hand over. A patch of her flawless white skin had turned red as if she'd been scratching it. Why was she so bad at restraining herself?

The demonic shadows drew closer and another howl cut through the night. She had no time for this! Tiny red dots erupted on her hand, like needle pricks, and the itch intensified. Failure to repent for my mistakes? Ah, come on!

She pressed her earpiece. "Nate, can you hear me?"

"For the millionth time, Grace, it's Nathaniel." His voice sounded strained, accompanied by sword clinking.

Is this guy for real? In the middle of a battle, and he still has time to lecture her about saying his name right? She fought the impulse to say 'yeah, whatever'. "The guy's already taken over. And Negri are waltzing around."

"You mean the homeless guy?" A cry of pain came from Nate's side. When he spoke again, his voice was much calmer which meant the fight was probably over. "That's a pity. Come back."

"Isn't there anything we could do for him? And if he's done, why are Negri still here?"

The demonic shadows had come even closer - close enough to attack. But they couldn't until they turned into what they really were - Demon projections, evil, defects, monsters, taking refuge inside human hearts, turning them into despicable creatures.

Nate paused for a moment. "Are you sure there's no one else around?"

Grace closed her eyes and urged her senses to explore the surrounding area. A sliver of cold snuck through her as she picked up on the Negri. She accepted their presence, went beyond it, and shuddered at the ice the human and approaching hellhounds sent through her veins. The human had no feeling, thought or wish to accompany his fading body heat. Beyond him, she only sensed Nate's powerful aura. Like a silver explosion of energy, it sent shivers down her spine, warming her entire body, and her knees weakened. Her head swam with the sunny days it promised. No, focus!

"No other humans are even close."

"I don't know what's going on, then, and no, there's nothing you can do for that guy." Nate sounded pissed. Someone in the background, probably Azriel, was saying something to him. "There's no point hanging out there," Nate said. "Destroy the Negri and come to me."

"I have to at least try to do-"

"Grace, if Negri are close by, then so is a Demon. If you insist on being rebellious, at least wait until Azriel and I get there before jumping head-first into battle." Before she could answer, he ended the transmission.

Grace gritted her teeth, fighting the impulse to curse. She hated being treated like a baby and she could take on a Demon.

The shadows took shapes around her: grotesque skeletal creatures with talons for feet. The head of a different horned animal adorned each body, and snake-like tongues slid in and out of their mouths. They were ready to attack. The inner edges of her shoulder blades prickled.

Abandoning the man, she drew her pistol and turned on the spot, trying to get a good aim. The Negri circled her too fast, spewing ragged breaths. One grabbed her from behind, a cool whip around her waist. She elbowed back, but only hit the brick wall. An electric shock traveled from her elbow to her shoulder.

"Shit!" She stumbled away. Red pimples erupted over her hand. The Negru coiled around her let out a screeching snort like some sick form of laughter. Annoyance made its way through Grace's adrenaline rush. If she didn't watch her fat mouth, she'd be returning to the Garden covered in boils. Even the Negri were laughing at her. This was turning out to be one of those nights.

She pointed the pistol at the ground and shot at her feet. Blue light exploded around her. Hit by the brightness, the Negri evaporated in a chorus of hisses.

Another howl, this time much closer, had her hand wrapping around the hilt of her rune engraved dagger. Negri were easy. Hellhounds were a bit harder to deal with. The sound of heavy footsteps and dragging chains made its way around the corner of the nearest building.

Grace took a deep breath to calm her pounding heartbeat. The raw smell of rancid meat settled in the back of her throat and tears pricked her eyes.

Two hellhounds, as tall as Great Danes, but as stocky as Rottweilers, stopped in the opening of the alley. Red eyes glistened out of black bristled fur. Saliva dripped between their pointy, shark-like teeth.

Grace pulled her dagger out of the sheath strapped to her thigh, caught the tip between her fingers and threw it. It sunk in the soft animal flesh. The dog squealed and dropped to the ground, black blood squirting from its neck. The remaining hellhound bared its fangs and crouched, ready to strike.

Daggerless, Grace glanced from left to right. No potential armament presented itself. She still had her lightpistol, but the weapon was meant for Negri and inefficient against anything else. The hellhound pounced, its bared fangs going for her throat. She crossed her arms in front of her head. The hound collided with her and the animal's weight knocked her against the wall and then over a shabby dumpster. Rotting fruit and meat tumbled over her together with cardboard boxes and broken china. The dog charged toward her and jumped on her back, effectively flooring her. Spit dripped down her neck.

Her head spun. The weight of the hellhound vanished as the agonizing, burning sensation in her shoulder blades finally took over and she gave in. Her entire body relaxed, sending the tension to her back. Her wings burst out, tossing the demon dog off. It yelped as it hit the wall. Air filled Grace's lungs and her head cleared. She stood and spread her wings on either side of her, the feathers brushing the walls of the alley.

The hellhound scrambled to its feet but cowered from the light radiating off her Angel wings. Grace walked to the dead hound, yanked the dagger out of its body and threw it at the remaining dog, killing it instantly. She would have let it run if that didn't imply it attacking an unsuspecting human.

"Not bad for a beginner." The voice rang from above.

Grace craned her neck, trying to tell where it was coming from. As much as her senses tried, they couldn't pick up the trace of any Demon. Or human.

After retrieving her dagger, she crouched and shot upward. The wind soared through her feathers, bringing an intoxicating sense of freedom. She wished she could go higher and higher, never stop. But a job was a job.

She landed on the roof of one of the buildings flanking the alley. A lone shadow crouched next to an old brick chimney.

"Enough of hiding and playing games," she said. "Come out."

A low chuckle greeted her words.

Her stomach tightened.

She knew that laugh.

The shadowed figure straightened to reveal a man a head taller than her. He stretched like he didn't have a care in the world and stepped into the light. Crap, it was a Demon. Bottomless black eyes stared at her, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He shook his head as if in pity.

"Blackwing." Grace intended to sound disgusted, but it came out as a wheeze.

"Wings out already, Gracie?" The Demon tutted. "I thought you could handle a couple of dogs without them."

Grace balled her hands into fists and squeezed. Out of all Demons, why did it have to be him? Even if she'd never fought him, she'd seen him in the company of other Demons. And she knew the stories surrounding him: how he broke every rule in battle, how no one had ever managed to even hurt him. But his bat-like wings were still tucked inside his body, so he wasn't at full strength. Maybe she had a shot at bringing him down. She just needed to time everything perfectly.

Heart drumming with both anticipation and fear, Grace leaped forward and punched the Demon in the chest. He flew backward and slammed into the chimney. The whole structure shook and cracked.

Blackwing laughed. "You're pretty strong for a youngster. Fast too." He brushed the dust off his clothes. "But this is pointless. You won't kill me."

"What makes you say that?" Grace charged again. This time, he stepped to the side and her kick flew past his face. She propped one foot against the chimney and sprung back toward the Demon. Her elbow caught him in the stomach and threw him off his feet.

Grace rushed to him and put her foot on his chest. He was right, she could hardly kill him without a sword, but it wasn't impossible. Her satisfied smile vanished when he started laughing.

"You won't kill me because you're curious. You want to know why I set this trap for you."

"For me?" The transforming man, the hellhounds, the abnormally large number of Negri... everything was there just to trap her?

Blackwing pushed her foot away. The grin on his face was maddening. She spread her wings and glided a few steps back.

"How did you even know I'd be here?" She rose off the ground, her wings fluttering to support her. "And we've had chances to talk before." Her brain worked fervently. Why would Blackwing want to speak to her? Her stomach turned into a knot. She was being an idiot. He was just trying to distract her and throw her off her game.

He stepped back, arms raised in surrender. "True, but not without your bodyguard around."

Grace landed and cocked her head. Right, she'd never seen Blackwing outside Nate's company. Since she was still pretty new to this whole Angel thing, she didn't come down to Earth without Nate very often. Much of her life included him - she worked with Nate, studied with Nate, ate with Nate, sometimes even hung out with Nate.

Blackwing lunged. His arm wrapped around her middle and he knocked her to the ground. Her wings twitched, trying to get out from under her.

"Be an angel and listen, won't you?" Blackwing whispered, pinning her down.

Anger bubbled in Grace's chest. She bucked and tossed him off her. He rolled over and sat up. She jumped to her feet, grasped the tip of her dagger between her thumb and index finger and threw it at his head. He dodged, but not fast enough. The dagger left a slash on his cheek. Thick, red blood dripped down his face. Red?

Blackwing scowled and wiped at the blood. His body tensed and trembled. Grace stepped back, expecting his grotesque wings to burst out from between his shoulder blades. Great, I pissed Blackwing off. Fear scampered through her veins. In a blur of movement, he was next to her, wrapped his fingers around her neck and rammed her against the chimney.

"You had to scratch the paint job, didn't you?" he snarled, his face inches from hers. "It's the only good thing left about me."

Grace froze. "That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard a Demon say."

Blackwing grinned and turned his head so she could get a better look at his cut. "The red blood confuses you, doesn't it? You've fought enough Demons to know they bleed black." He tightened his grip on her, but Grace wasn't trying to escape anymore. He had her attention. "Look at me," he whispered. "And I mean, really look."

Grace shut her eyes and opened them again. If she hadn't known he was a Demon, he could have been any man on the street and a handsome one at that. He lacked the eerie air, the hollow cheeks, the sharp features all Demons possessed. His tanned skin worked well with the black, shaggy hair and the dark eyes. An almost imperceptible aura of warmth surrounded him.

"What are you?"

"There we go, Gracie." His voice lowered to a raspy whisper. "You're starting to see, to understand."

Grace frowned. What exactly was she seeing?

"Let her go!" Nate flew over the edge of the roof and landed behind Blackwing, sword out and ready.

Blackwing rolled his eyes and released Grace. He half-turned to face Nate, a polite smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Nathaniel. Long time, no see."

Nate nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Robert."

Grace took this as her cue. She drew her arm back and aimed a punch at Blackwing's jaw. Without even looking at her, he caught her fist in midair.

"You're too cute, but settle down." He pushed her toward Nate.

Nate pulled her behind him and stretched his wings, their silver tips casting light around the three of them.

Blackwing's eyelids dropped as though he was bored out of his mind. "You know your pathetic light tricks don't work on me, Nate."

Light tricks? Grace shook her head in disbelief. The holy aura surrounding an Angel burned Demons, sent them back, hissing. Yet, this one just stood there as if Nate was pointing a flashlight at him.

"Don't call me that," Nate said, a chill in his voice. "Take your sword out and fight, Demon."

"You and your stupid protocol." Blackwing waved him away. "If you ever decide to kill me, you'd have a much better chance if you don't give me time to take my weapon out. But you've always been boring." He nodded toward Grace. "She's a lot more interesting."

"Stay away from her." Nate took a step forward. He gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands and pointed the tip at Blackwing. "Or I will kill you."

Blackwing huffed. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before." He threw Grace a fleeting glance, then bent his knees and launched himself into the sky in one incredible jump.

Grace's eyes widened. The height of his jump unaided by wings was unbelievable. He disappeared into the night.

"Are you all right?" Nate shoved his sword back in the sheath strapped to his back. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

Grace didn't fully register what was going on, her mind still full of Blackwing's abnormality. Her entire body heated up as Nate wrapped his wings around them. God, it felt great.

"You should have come to me when I told you- ah, who am I kidding? You never do what I tell you to. I saw the dead dogs. I'm just glad you're okay." The tenderness in his voice was something new.

"I'm fine." She pushed him back gently. The heat seemed to go out of her when their bodies parted. "I'm-" Was she fine after all the craziness?

His dazzling smile warmed her back up. Heavens, he was gorgeous. And so sweet.

The smile faltered. "Anyway, I should've gotten here faster. Though you were doing a pretty good job at chopping him up. I'm proud of you."

"Where's Azriel? Is he okay?"

"Yes, of course. I just had him keep lookout in case another Demon showed up."

"Oh, okay." Grace found working in a pack of three a little confusing. Angels usually hunted in pairs, but ever since Azriel's partner was killed, he hung out with them, until he was assigned another Second. But it made everything weird, since what she usually did had to be divided between her and Azriel. Except for the fact that Azriel had a sword and could actually deliver deadly blows in a battle. Man, she wanted a sword!

Nate shut his eyes. His wings shrunk and folded back inside his shoulder blades.

She sighed, shut her eyes and concentrated on her shoulders. The tingling returned and only subsided when her wings were back in place. Just like when they'd come out, their reentrance left no mark on her clothes. The small creases in her flesh healed the moment the last feather went in, and she was back to normal. "What is that guy?"

Nate flinched. "Who? Blackwing? A Demon, obviously."

"Then how come he bleeds red? Or didn't burn under your aura?" She raised her face to stare him straight in the eyes.

"He's a different sort of Demon." He ran his hand through his silver-blond hair. "That's why he's still walking this earth. He's-" Nate glanced around as though searching for a way out of the conversation. "Look, there's a lot we have to talk about."

Grace raised one eyebrow. He usually had an answer for everything. But she forgot about it when he put his hand on her cheek.

"There are things I've been meaning to tell you for a while." He cupped her face. "Important things."

God, why were her insides dancing? It was only Nate. Exactly - it's Nate. Stupid inner voice! He was her friend, her partner, and sometimes acted like her boss. But there was also something else there, something that quickened her pulse, weakened her knees. And it had been there for a while, as much as she avoided thinking about it. He was brave, caring, fun when he wanted to be, and a phenomenal Angel. She wanted him to be more than a friend.

"So, I'm taking you to a fancy place tomorrow. Dress for the occasion, honey."

Honey? Grace put her hand on his wide chest and nudged him back. "Wait, are you asking me out on a date?"

He gave her a shrewd smile. "You won't know until tomorrow. Let's go." He walked to edge of the roof and started down the fire escape.

Grace gawked after him, her mind turning cartwheels. First Blackwing, then Nate's weird behavior and now... A flutter in her stomach drove all the rationality out of her. Nate had asked her out.