My new trainer is strange. They all say she's the best, but she's really weird actually. A week ago, I didn't believe in any of this angel shit. Let alone that there was a secret league of magical mutts who fought monsters.
But that's all I know about the guardians. I'm an angel. They don't tell us anything. Seriously.
I'm not even allowed to see my trainer's real house. She says it's too dangerous.
So here I am. Living in a random girl's cover flat. Not only does she look 16 and make 27-year-old-me look like a pervert, but she's actually got over 500 years under her belt. And she could kick my ass with both hands and feet tied back to a boulder. But she'd move the boulder anyway.
As for me? I didn't know my power yet. She tells me we will work on finding it, but I doubt I have one. I've never been good at anything. Apart from using my new wings. But we're all good at that. It makes me feel slightly sick actually.
On the plus side... The tiny, unwanted plus side that makes me feel wrong; I never have to work again in my life. She says I will, and it will be fucking hard work, but I don't see how many monsters there could be on earth. But she says I will get to go to other parallel universes.
...
"Sam, please just eat the bacon. It's making me feel sick." My trainer says to me flatly one morning.
"Why?" I frown. She does look sick. And the lights on her robotic arm are really low. Normally they're mental.
"Because it used to be an animal." She points out, washing up the dishes.
"What's your name?" I wonder randomly, changing the subject from her constant nagging and worries.
She stops what she's going and turns to look at me. She looks a hundred years old right now. Shoulders sagging, eyes hollow and empty, bones jutting out on her green flecked white skin. "You know why I can't tell you." She says.
My eyes travel to a mark on her arm. EV666.
"Evie?" I guess. "Is that it?"
She shakes her head firmly, "That's my lab name. When they made me." She mumbles, running a hand through her ever-changing hair. "Just call me Stitch. My war mount is called Stitch." She says feebly. She's always like this. Well, when I first got changed she was awesome but her brother went missing and she can't help. Even though we both know she does go and help. Since then, she hasn't eaten and barely slept.
"Fine. Stitch." I shrug, getting annoyed with her lack of friendliness, even though she does have bigger things to worry about.
"Be good." She turns and glares at me, pulling her bow down from the hook and picking up a quiver of arrows. "I'm off for the night. If you aren't here in the morning, remember I know how to hunt angels like you." She points a long finger at me before yanking the door open and leaving, smashing it shut behind her.
"I know how to hunt angels like you." I mimic her British voice badly and poke my tongue out at the door.