Chapter 2

She was gone.

Ella was gone, but she promised she'd be back. He walked to the edge of the tower she'd left him in and wandered to the window so that he could get a glimpse of the surrounding beyond the church. Beyond his new hiding spot. Ella seemed nice, like she could help. But the other one, the angel, had seemed nice too. And she'd brought him from the place of ash and so much cold this far but left him after.

She'd promised to come back too, to help him, and she hadn't. He'd been left to wander the streets of the city and realized quickly that humans were scared of him. He could not blame them for that. He had glimpsed his reflection a few times early on, in the glass of storefronts and in the water puddled in alleys. He was not sure what he was, although Michael was pretty sure he hadn't always been that way.

But it was fuzzy, like pulling on threads beyond Father leaving and Sam beating him and sending him down there was just gone. He couldn't even quite remember Sam either, just that his Father had left the whole universe, and his brother had beaten him badly in battle and exiled him away. And the rest…Michael could not recall.

It was blank, as blank as the name of the nice angel who talked so much but disappeared after saving him.

So, as he neared the edge of the window, as close as he dared in the still darkness of the late night, he tried not to worry. Ella made a promise. Maybe this human would value her word more than the angel had. He did not wish to be alone any longer.

Though he felt as if he had forever, as if he had always just been alone. There had been the arena, glimpses of a fight, of a sword of flames, and the indescribable pain of such a weapon slicing through his wings. Then that place and the cold, endless halls and the ash. The wails of those suffering and the stench of sulfur overwhelming senses that had grown keener and more acute the longer Michael had been trapped there.

But he was out now, had been struggling in the city of humans for a while.

He learned to hide in the dark recesses of alleyways and in abandoned buildings by day, to forage if and when he had to at the deepest part of the night like tonight and to keep covered. It had scared him badly when Ella had tried to take his wrap. More because his appearance would frighten her-his appearance frightened everything and had left the nice angel weeping-and Michael hadn't wanted someone who was kind to him to be hurt by having to look at him.

But she was different.

She had been shocked, but someone terrified would have screamed and run away. Maybe she'd have called for those enforcers. He did not know the human term for them, but they had weapons that sounded like thunder. The projectiles they shot his way did not hurt, but the loudness of their weapons made his ears ache and bleed when they were set off.

Michael learned to stay away from them.

To stay away from everyone.

He had just gotten cold tonight and hungry, and the church had been open. Something in it-of all of it-familiar, and some part of him thought back to Father, to a face he could not quite picture, though he no longer understood why the church should remind him of anything.

He'd found it empty and only planned to warm himself for a few hours before disappearing back to his alley, but it had been comfortable there and Ella had surprised him.

Michael looked out at the city, and he sighed to himself. It was better than Before from the one, large spire looking out over all and the bright white wings of the angel standing guard there. Why another with such dark hair and a pretty blue dress had freed him at all from the other place, Michael did not know. But this city was different. Tall buildings sprawled out everywhere and lights twinkled from all around the city. There were endless buildings, most of them with sheer glass fronts. Reflective fronts. Areas Michael worked to hide and shrink away from even at night because he did not like to see himself.

Some small foolish part of him thought things might have been different Before. Long before his prison and the ash, long before the arena where he'd screamed with the fire lancing through his wings and ruining them. But maybe he was wrong.

It was so impossibly murky, and the harder he tried to remember anything, the more it faded in his mind.

There were only a few facts: Father had left, Sam had hurt him, and the nice angel had saved him from ashes but disappeared. Now, he was here in the church with Ella. And that was all Michael knew of himself, knew of anything.

He turned away from the window and the glimmering expanse of the city. Then, Michael settled gently on the cot by the large bell in the center of the tower. It was rickety beneath his bulk, but it still held.

Michael tried to wait for Ella to come back. He didn't dare go after her, but as the time passed and the sun came out and, eventually, grew high in the sky, he feared she'd left him too, that she'd broken her promise like the nice angel in the blue dress. Restless, he stood up and tried to keep himself occupied, but the tower felt like being hemmed in. It was not as bad as Before with the ash and endless, dark sky, but he was not out in the city, could not escape easily if someone besides Ella found him.

Michael did not want that, but he did not want to leave either.

Ella had been the first person to be nice to him since the angel, and it had been weeks? Months? He did not know but a long while since anyone had spoken to him, since anyone had done more than turn away in terror and after a screaming fit.

So, he fell to all fours, finding it a bit easier to move with his cloak shed and within the wide expanse of the tower. He paced back and forth, making laps from one wall to the other. One another innumerable lap, Michael tripped over something small and rectangular on the floor. He frowned and sniffed it, getting not much from it but the tickle of dust in the back of his throat. It was not food and it was old, clearly been neglected long enough to collect dust in the first place.

Curious, Michael grabbed the tiny object in his claws and then settled back on the cot. Opening the rectangle, he stared down at yellowed paper and so many symbols printed over it. Like so many things-his family, his appearance, and the nice angel who had disappeared-Michael felt that he should remember this, that the squiggles on the paper should be familiar.

That they meant something.

But they did not.

Frustrated and fearful Ella had broken her promise, Michael wasn't sure what to do. In vain, he gently flipped through the yellowed pages before him. More squiggles, more symbols that meant nothing to him. But small as his life was, he had nothing else to do and maybe, just maybe, something here would be familiar to him.

Somehow.

He flipped again and found the first picture in the book. It was beautifully etched and in color, with gold around the borders of the picture. In this image, two naked humans frolicked in a beautiful garden with so many happy-looking animals surrounding them. Michael quirked his head, and there was something…he felt there had to be something about it that was familiar.

But like his mind, like all the holes in it, there was no true recognition. He kept flipping through the pages, finding squiggles far more often than pictures. But when he came to a second one, one of a great, slithering snake alone with the naked woman and an apple tree, he couldn't help but feel something deeper.

"Sam," he rumbled, but he did not know why.

His brother was something but not a snake. At least, Michael was pretty sure Sam wasn't that.

Then again, he didn't even know what he was either.

"Hey," a voice finally called from the top of the stairs.

Michael turned and chuffed gently toward Ella. She was carrying a plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "You came back."

She laughed. "Dude, I promised you. Besides, it's real bad to break a vow. Nuns? Totally frown on that."

He nodded and couldn't help feeling elated. Michael had been sure that after hours had passed and the sun had gotten higher in the sky, that Ella had abandoned him. But she was here, and he couldn't resist letting his tongue loll out a bit in joy at the sight of her.

She stopped for a minute but then smirked back at him. "Okay, well, that's quite a reception." Ella neared the cot and set the food on the far end of it. "Sorry it wasn't much. We had some oatmeal and a few bananas. I grabbed the last couple pieces of turkey bacon. Sorry we didn't have the real thing."

After she'd set the food before him, she walked across the tower and grabbed a folding chair, pulling it with her to sit close to him by his bed.

"Thank you," he said. Michael put the book down to his left side, closer to her but away from the plate. Then, he picked it up and settled the collection of treats on his lap.

She quirked her head at the book before her before handing him a fork. "Reading huh?"

Michael took the utensil and tried to use it with the bacon. It slipped in his grip, small as it was in his hands. Frustrated, he dropped the fork to the mattress and used is hands to pick up the bacon pieces first. Then, he less-than-successfully tried to open the bananas. The first one smooshed in his hands, splashing bits of it all over his muzzle and his fur.

Ella shut the book he'd left to his other side and sighed. "Okay, maybe I didn't think this through as much as I could have. You want help?"

Michael hunched over a bit and grabbed the second banana-the last one-and tried to claw at it. This one hadn't smooshed much, but the peel was slicing to ribbons. Yet the soft fruit underneath remained unreachable for him.

The little nun beside him coughed. "Michael, I can help. Come on. It's not a big deal."

He glared at her and growled a bit, a low rumble from his chest. He could feel what was left of his wing stumps twitch in his irritation. "I can do it."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, how are all men the same? You're as stubborn as my hermano César."

Michael narrowed his eyes at her. "Not helpless."

"Yeah, you did great with the bacon. But really, you're just gonna-"

He scratched again at the peel and grumbled again when half the banana cut off and fell to the floor, rolling and becoming covered in rat leavings and more dust. Ella rolled her eyes again, and Michael wasn't sure if there was a limit on how often humans could do that.

He was a bit worried Ella's face might get stuck that way or her eyes just might roll right out.

"Okay, right, big scary wolf demon. Whatever." She reached out and took the banana from him. Honestly, Michael was too shocked by her audacity to stop her. She peeled what she could and what was left of the banana and handed him the soft remains of the fruit underneath. "Ahem, I believe the phrase is 'you're welcome,'" she said.

He took the fruit and bit into it, enjoying the soft sweetness on his tongue. When he did grow hungry on the streets, he took from dumpsters on good days. On bad ones, he caught squirrels or pigeons, whatever bit of stray animals he could find in the alleys and the parks. But something sweet had been a long time ago. He was sure he'd had sweet things before, but Michael did not remember it.

Michael finished his half of the banana quickly, scarfing it down eagerly and nodded toward Ella. "I…thank you. You were right."

She laughed. "At least you admit when I have a point. Gotta tell you, none of my four brothers have ever done that."

Michael considered her and picked up the bowl for the oatmeal. The utensil always fell from his hands, small and unyielding as it was, and his claws weren't any good for picking up glops of the sustenance before him. Instead, he tipped the lip of the bowl to his maw and slurped it greedily. It too was sweetened and a bit tangy, and it was the best thing he'd eaten…since possibly he could remember eating things.

He finished and Ella laughed at him. Reaching to her lap, she pulled up a cloth and passed him the bottle of water which Michael noted was no longer capped by a small, green top.

"Yeah, very scary demon. Next time I feed you, we work on getting the food more in your mouth than your beard," she said. Ella hesitated with the cloth to the corner of his face. "Is this…is this okay?"

Michael quirked his head at her. "Would it not be?"

"I don't know. I just haven't really helped feed a demon before. I didn't want you to feel I was being patronizing."

"You already peeled the banana for me, but it was good to actually get a bit to eat," he admitted. "I…please?"

She offered him a small, hesitant smile and cleans at his fur. "You're kind of a mess. I bet tonight I can sneak a bucket and some towels up here. It'll be annoying but we can get you cleaned up better. Gonna be a thinker on where I can get a few extra pairs of huge pants, but let me put the old noggin to that."

He frowned after she was done and set his paws on his knees. "Was this not good?"

"It's pretty torn. If you're gonna be here a while, I'd like to help you get on your feet."

"I'm sitting."

She chuckled. "It's a figure of speech for us humans. I just mean, you want to feel better right? Cleaner?"

He nodded, for the first time in weeks? Months? In ages at least…for the first time in ages noticing the crusted chunks in the beard of his face and sniffing enough to catch his intense aroma. Michael scooted to the far end of the cot and hung his head, keeping his gaze away from Ella.

"Sorry."

She didn't seem to understand his gesture and scooted closer to him. "No, wait. If you don't want to get cleaned up…oh jeez, I offended you." She blinked up at him, and he had never seen such beautiful eyes before. At least he was pretty sure he hadn't. "You don't smell, uh, bad."

Michael sighed. "Alley."

She frowned up at him. "Huh?"

"Alley, sewer…hiding from humans," he offered. Michael holds up an arm and sniffs under his arm pit. "Yes, sorry."

Ella's eyes looked funny for a minute, like there was water in them. She rubbed at them soon after and seemed focused again. "No, not your fault at all. I'll get that bucket, and I will figure out some new pants…somewhere, but that might take a day or two."

"Thank you," he said, turning away, feeling something hot flare under the fur on his face.

Something harsh and bitter in his mouth. He wasn't sure what that was, but it felt hard for her to look at him. Suddenly, Michael very much wanted his cloak back. He'd put it on again after she was gone. He felt too exposed without it.

A small, gentle hand was on his forearm. "I made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I talk too much and blurt out everything. I really shouldn't have said anything."

"No, nice," he answered after a beat. "You're the nicest person I met."

"You don't meet many people, I bet."

"They run," he answered simply. "Or scream or both. I understand why."

Her eyes looked funny again, like watery, and he wasn't sure why. "Right, I…so you found a spare Bible up here, huh? Makes sense; they're all over."

Michael gestures to the rectangle, to the snake by the naked woman. "Sam."

Ella frowned at him. "I don't understand."

Michael pointed to the picture again, one claw tracing the outline of the snake, its red scales brilliant against the gold lining of the paper. "I don't know either. I…Sam."

"Like your brother? The one that hurt you?"

Michael huffed a bit, confused but unable to reach through all the fog in his mind. There was something there from before, so many things from before, but he could not reach them. "Sam?"

This time his voice is more like a whine. Honestly, Michael just doesn't know, just that the picture feels like Sam.

Ella chewed on her lower lip. "Maybe your brother is the Devil. That would make sense, right? You're a demon so I guess lower on the uh promotion ladder, right?"

He whined a bit in the back of his throat and set his hand in his paws. "I don't know."

"Well, I gotta get to class. I have a huge day planned," she said. "I still have to give back those quizzes I graded, and the AP chem class is making aspirin…and you have no idea how what any of what I just said is."

"No," he added, again that heat flaring under his cheek fur.

"But," she said, her tone brighter. "I can get leave you to read the Bible some. I didn't think demons could touch holy relics or even the Bible, so I guess good to know."

She stood and set the rectangle back in his lap.

"What is 'read?'" he asked.

For the third time, Ella's eyes seemed to fill with water, this time a few drops leaked own her cheeks. Michael scooched across his cot and traced a finger carefully, very mindful of his claws, against the skin there. The drop came off on his fingertip. "Leaking."

She shook her head. "No, that's…uh humans do that. You can't read, can you?"

"Pictures," he replied, dropping his hand and picking up the rectangle again. He flipped through pages to show other pictures to her, including one of a huge boat with so many animals on its deck. "They are nice."

She nodded. "Okay, bucket, towels, and picture books I can get tonight. Giant ass pants might take a few nights."

Ella surprised him by setting her hand on the back of one of his massive paws. "Michael, I hate to say it like this, but you're safe as long as you stay up here. No one ever comes up here cause the parish doesn't have the budget to keep the bell tower maintained right now. I…but I'll be back. I promise. You believe me, right?"

Michael quirked his head at her again. "I do."

She nodded and her eyes were doing that leaking thing again. Michael needed to learn more about humans. They were weird, and he was a bit worried her eyes were not actually supposed to leak like that.

Before he could ask her again if she were sure her eyes were okay, the nun lunged forward and hugged him tightly, even careful to avoid his wing stumps and let her arms rest low on his back.

"Okay, I really promise, and I'll bring good books. No worries. Ooh, project two. Get you reading!"

"What is one?"

"Duh, memory back. Anyway," she added, pulling away from him.

Michael was disappointed to feel the lack of contact, and even more confused than he'd been all morning. He was warm but not just under his cheek fur now. He was not feeling shame, but something else, something that made his whole body heated and his stomach flutter and bubble. It was weird, but he…he liked it.

"You have nice time," he said, nodding to her. "I can wait. I promise."

She nodded and took the plate back in her hands. "Good, I…smell you later, Mike."

Ella hurried down the steps, while Michael sat on his cot and picked up the book again. There were many pictures after all, and they were interesting enough to help pass the time. Although, as he flicked through the pages with their squiggles and pictures, Michael couldn't help but feel Ella's last words to him were familiar too.

Not familiar like the nice angel in the blue dress but still familiar.

But, like with everything else, it was all gone again, lost to the fog of his mind.