I want to be somewhere that I can be a part of my only child's life."
"Then I'll have the demons start looking for an available home on the other side of town," Nick said. "And when you're ready for legal identification, let me know. Our people are a little better at it than yours."
And I just sat there, taking it all in. My parents wanted to move closer to me. No matter how many times I said it, it couldn’t sound any more normal - and that was the weird part. That sentence was completely, totally, and perfectly normal. My real parents actually wanted to live near me. Clearly, something catastrophic was coming, because nothing good ever happened in my life without something bad being right on the tail of it.
Thankfully, I was finally strong enough to make sure it didn't matter.
39
Ronwe
Having Sia's parents over that evening was a little bit weird. I knew Uriel was an angel, but he didn't look like one. He also didn't really act like one. I had a feeling that was because he was on his best behavior. He and Kacira - who was clearly as human as it got - seemed like they were desperately trying to get to know their daughter. Sia acted like she was somewhat conflicted about that. Then there was Bel.
I was pretty sure that we were all expecting the big guy to terrorize Sia's father. Her mother got a pass on the anger because the truth was that she was an angelic slave. One with a lot of privileges because she was married, but that wasn't the same thing as freedom. While Uriel liked to pretend as if she was his equal, the truth was that outside of their home, she was just as vulnerable as any other slave on that plane. That meant the blame for what happened to our girl rested squarely on her father's shoulders.
But Bel didn't tear into him. He didn't ask hard and uncomfortable questions. He certainly didn't grill him. Instead, he was very pleasant the whole time, yet his eyes never left the man. Everything about Uriel was observed, from the way he held his fork to how many times he looked at his wife and daughter. Strangely, Sam wasn't much better. Nick was at least subtle about it.
And me? I was just trying to keep up. While Luke and I made dinner, the rest went over the plans for taking down this angelic slave trade. Sia and Sam came up with an elaborate story to replace her ex-boyfriend's memories. Nick and Uriel worked out a way to get in touch with each other that didn't mean immediate help was needed. While we ate, the conversation may have been more casual, but also more tense.
The most interesting thing of all, in my opinion, was that God didn't say a thing.
By the time Uriel and Kacira returned to Angelis, Sia was exhausted. All of us noticed, but Bel was the one who did something about it. Without a word, he simply grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her towards the stairs, and marched her up them, saying something about a long, hot bath. By the time I was ready to fall asleep, I wasn't surprised at all to see the door to his room shut securely. But that was okay. They deserved a little quality time together.
The next morning, my phone - which was really more of a miniature computer - woke me with an annoying sound. I crawled out of bed to find that Luke was already in the shower. From the sounds of it, everyone was awake. There were just enough doors closing and feet moving on the second floor to prove it.
Today was the first time I hated having a human body. Evidently, going to church meant looking nice. Looking nice seemed to mean shaving. Shaving involved a very sharp metal blade and my throat. Everything about that was wrong. On the upside, Luke was more than willing to help. He introduced me to the concept of an electric razor, saying that I didn't have enough facial hair to worry about, and then he helped me choose an appropriate outfit. On Earth, it seemed that looking good wasn't merely the opposite of looking bad. It was something that could only be determined by the reason to look that way.
Club clothes were too revealing, a three-piece suit was too stuffy, and the common T-shirt and jeans outfit wasn't dressy enough. Giving