A big thank you to anyone who has read/favorited/followed this story. It's my first fanfic, and I am really excited about it.. I promise I'll try to be better about posting regularly. Leave a review!
Chapter 2
It had been two months since Dabria visited me at Bo's Arcade. During those two months I had dug up more than enough information on Nora Grey. In a word, she was attractive boring. She would only be mourned by her mother and her best friend, so I'm not killing the next Miss America.
I was sitting in the Coldwater cemetery. I was supposed to meet Rixon somewhere an hour ago. We were going to hunt down our vassals and start Cheshvan off right. We spent two weeks every year in a nephil's body so we could have the ability to feel things. The problem was, I didn't want two weeks, I wanted forever in my own human body.
I heard footsteps in the distance followed by a familiar voice, "Moonlighting with the dead?" Rixon leaned against headstone across from the one I was sitting on. His rough Irish accent bellowed through the air, "Let me guess. You've got it in your mind to possess the dead?" He shook his head, "I don't know… Maggots squirming in your eyeholes… and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit too far."
Only he would say something like that. I retorted, "This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side."
"Cheshvan starts tonight," he pointed out, "What are you doing arsing around a graveyard?"
"Thinking."
He questioned, "Thinking?"
I gave him a smart ass response, "A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision." But the decision I was trying making was definitely not rational, it was slightly crazy.
Rixon frowned, "I'm starting to worry about you. Come on. Time to go. Chauncey Langeais and Barnabus await. The moon turns at midnight. I confess I've got my eye on a betty in town," he purred like a cat, "I know you like them red, but I like 'em fair, and once I get into a body, I intend to take of unfinished business with a blonde who was making eyes at me earlier."
I didn't move, still thinking deeply about whether a becoming a guardian is good enough to replace a possibility of a human life.
"Are you daft? We've got to go. Chauncey's oath of fealty. Not ringing a bell?" he continued to speak, "How about this. You're a fallen angel. You can't feel a thing. Until tonight, that is. The next two weeks are Chauncey's gift to you. Given unwillingly, mind you." He had an evil grin on his face.
I looked at him desperately, "What do you know about The Book of Enoch?"
"About as much any other fallen angel: slim to none," he pointed out.
I went for broke, "I was told there's a story in The Book of Enoch. About a fallen angel who becomes human."
I expected his reaction, though I hated him for it. He laughed hysterically, "You lost your mind, mate?" He made a book with his hands, "The Book of Enoch is a bedtime story. And a good one, by the looks of it. Sent you straight to dreamland."
"I want a human body."
"You'd best be happy with two weeks and a Nephil's body. Half human is better than nothing," he reasoned, "Chauncey can't undo what's been done. He swore an oath, and he has to live up to it. Just like last year. And the year before that-"
I cut him off, "Two weeks isn't enough. I want to be human. Permanently." I glared at him, daring him to laugh again.
He ran his hands through his hair, "The Book of Enoch is a fairy tale. We're fallen angels, not humans. We never were human, and we never will be. End of story. Now quit arsing around and help figure out which is the way to Portland."
I've made my decision. I hop off the headstone, "I'm going to become human." I'm going to kill Nora Grey.
"Sure, mate, sure you can," he said.
I've never been more serious, "The Book of Enoch says I have to kill my Nephil vassal. I have to kill Chauncey."
Rixon grew impatient, "No, you don't. You've got to possess him. A process by which you take his body and use it as your own. Not to put a damper on things, but you can't kill Chauncey. Nephilim can't die. And have you thought of this? If you could kill him, you couldn't possess him."
He overlooked one detail, "If I kill him, I'll become human and I won't need to possess him."
I didn't care what he was saying, and he knew that. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tipped his head back, like I was giving him some kind of headache.
"If we could kill Nephilim, we would have found a way by now. I'm sorry to tell you lad, but if I don't get into the arms of that blond betty soon, my brains will bake. And a few other parts of my-"
"Two choices."
He looked at me funny, "Eh?"
"Save a life and become a guardian angel," I insisted, "or kill your Nephil vassal and become human. Take your pick."
"Is this more The Book of Enoch rubbish?"
"Dabria paid me a visit."
His eyes widened, and he chuckled, "Your psychotic ex?" The questions kept coming, "What's she doing down here? Did she fall? Lost her wings, did she?"
"She came down to tell me I can get my wings back if I save a human life," I confessed.
Rixon's eyes got even wider, "If you trust her, I say go for it. Nothing wrong with being a guardian. Spending your days keeping mortals out of danger…could be fun, depending on the mortal you're assigned."
I posed a question, "But if you had a choice?"
He joked, "Aye, well, my answer depends on one very important distinction. Am I roaring drunk… or have I completely lost my mind?" He was expecting me to laugh. I didn't, so he continued soberly, "There's no choice. And here's why. I don't believe in The Book of Enoch. If I were you, I'd aim for guardianship. I'm half considering the deal myself. Too bad I don't know any humans on the brink of death."
I let go of the subject, because he obviously thought I was crazy or stupid. After a slight pause I perked up, "How much money do you think we can make before midnight?"
"Playing cards or boxing?"
"Cards," I answer simply.
His eyes were sparkling now. "What do we have here? A pretty boy? Come here and let me give you a proper clatter."
After a few minutes of us rolling around throwing playful punches, he surrendered.
"All right, all right! Just 'cause I can't feel a bloody lip doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of the night walking around with one," he winked, "Won't increase my chances with the ladies."
I made a joke, "And a black eye will?"
He thought I was serious. His hand flew up to his face, feeling around his eye, "You didn't!"
I took off at full speed when he swung at me with a fist.
"Catch me if you can!" I yelled back towards him.
We ran all the way back to Bo's Arcade, looking to pick up some cash. I was always best at poker and pool, whereas Rixon preferred boxing and robbing people. But neither of his hobbies occurs at Bo's on a regular basis, and we had to stay in town. In two hours' time, I had won four hands of poker, and hustled five suckers in pool, raking in over two grand in cash, a Rolex, and a new leather jacket. During the same time, Rixon had won a hand of Texas Hold 'Em, beat three teenagers at eight ball and convinced a twenty –something lady to steal from her boyfriend. He left with about five hundred dollars, the girl's phone number, and a lipstick stain on his face.
We left around 11:30, so we could be at the dealership in time to listen to Chauncey and Barnabus tell us how it would be different next Cheshvan. They have given the same speech for hundreds of years, but the situation never changes. An oath is an oath, and there is nothing they can do about it.
When we got there the Nephil's are already waiting. Glad to see they are accepting the inevitable. The year before they made us track them down. I had to travel to Montreal to find Chauncey, and I was so pissed I made his body a living Hell. I killed anyone that called or visited him, I got him addicted to some substance a scraggly homeless man was selling, and I cut all his hair off, which he had a strange obsession with.
"You boys ready? Especially you Barnabus, I found a pretty girl in Portland we're going to visit," called Rixon, while he bounced on his toes and swung his arms, getting pumped up.
Barnabus grumbled, "I go by Hank now, have for the last fifty years."
Chauncey was staring at the ground with pure hatred, I almost feel bad. Except I don't because his race shouldn't even be alive. It was five minutes to midnight and I couldn't stop thinking about humans. How much I envied them, how much I wanted to be them.
Chauncey looked up at me and my eyes pierced his soul, I didn't want his body. I wanted so much more than two weeks in a half-human. But Rixon was right; I was going to have to take what I could get.
The clock struck midnight and I willed myself into his body. He was struggling against my presence, but he never was strong enough to expel me. I made myself comfortable inside his thoughts, and sifted through the ones I hadn't yet heard. The majority of the recent thoughts were about hating me and the oath; I didn't care enough to go back farther than a few weeks.
I looked over and saw Hank's body stretching his arms and legs. I asked if Rixon was in there, and he nodded at me.
"We have to get to Portland, mate. That blond betty isn't going to wait forever."
I shrugged, "Let's go then."
Rixon and I spent the next two weeks wasting Chauncey's and Hank's money and using their bodies for our personal pleasure. Rixon continuously told me that he was having the best Cheshvan ever. I, on the other hand, was just going through the emotions. A Nephil body wasn't what I wanted, I enjoyed feeling the physical touch and texture of everything, but it was just a tease, I wasn't allowed to keep it.
My dilemma was haunting me, human or angel. This year made everything clear, I wanted what Chauncey had; I wanted to be able to feel the touch of polyester and silk and flesh. If my decision was unclear to me before, I knew after I was expelled from Chauncey's body that Cheshvan. I wouldn't be possessing Chauncey's body again next year, because he would be dead, I would be human, and an innocent girl was going to pay the ultimate price.
