Chapter One

Ah, finally! I've been a bit busy lately. And then I realized that once I start college in two weeks that I will have barely any time to write, so I got a move on. Hopefully I can still make time now and then for this story.

William strode along the street in the early morning, glancing over at the lightening horizon peeking out from behind London's skyline. It was coming; he could feel it. It pulled out his soul like a siren call. Of all the things being an angel allowed him, this was definitely his favorite. William came to a stop at the street corner and looked up at a tall building across the way.

With one thought, William was able to transport himself to the roof of the building. From this position, he had a clear view of the coming sunrise. He gave a slight smile as he took a breath of fresh air. "I knew you'd be waiting for me."

"Of course you did," said Michael, stepping over to him. "And must I say, it's good to see you finally accepting your fate."

"I've never missed one sunrise, Michael," William told him. "I just prefer solitude."

"Why is that, dear brother?" asked Michael. "Although I see the benefits of solitude, I would never wish to dwell in it."

"That, my brother, is where we differ," said William. "The mundane of this world infects you, dulls you. I, however, do not have that weakness. My mind is as sharp as ever."

"Our minds do not need to be sharp," Michael argued. "Only our hearts."

"Oh, dull," William muttered.

Michael shook his head good-naturedly. "How many times must we have this conversation?"

"At least once a week," William replied, his head turning unerringly towards the sunrise.

Light broke over the horizon, a hum that pierced his soul. William closed his eyes as warmth flooded him, music swelling around him. This was without a doubt his favorite part of the day. It felt like his soul was crying out to Creation, which was crying out right back. It was the closest he would ever get to feeling…anything. All too soon, it was over, and William opened his eyes to look over at Michael's still enraptured face.

"Till next time, Michael," said William, turning away and disappearing into thin air.

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade headed down the hallway of St. Bartholomew's Hospital with his Sergeant Sally Donovan in tow. "Where's he been sentenced to?"

"Belmarsh," Donovan answered, her chin held high as she walked.

Lestrade nodded. "Good luck getting out of there."

William marched along behind the two officers. Other than the morgue, the police station was another favorite haunt of his. Scotland Yard was full of interesting things to do: cases. He had shadowed every detective inspector at Scotland Yard since Jack the Ripper, when his interest in police investigations began. And boy, had he learned a lot, even more than these so-called professionals. But so far, Lestrade was the best inspector Scotland Yard had had yet.

"What about the James girl?" asked Lestrade.

"Autopsy should be done by now," said Donovan as they rounded the corner towards the morgue.

William's smile appeared as they headed through the doors of the morgue. Now, they were getting somewhere. He had already figured the whole thing out, and this autopsy would prove his theory. That was, as long as the officers were smart enough to figure it out. It would all depend on seeing the evidence. And hopefully, the new pathologist didn't mess up the whole thing.

When they entered the morgue, they found someone crouched over the examination table, tying off the last of the stitches on the Y-incision on the young woman's body.

"What have you found, Dr. Hooper?" asked Donovan.

The pathologist snipped the last thread and straightened up, turning towards them.

William stared at this small woman as she placed her instruments on the tray next to her and pulled her bloodied gloves off. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about this girl that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Well, she was definitely murdered," said Dr. Hooper.

William's head raised in appreciation. At least they were on the right track.

Dr. Hooper gestured the two officers over to the body. "The body has fingernail indentations scattered among the ligature marks, showing that she was pulling at the wire."

"Well, I'm sure anyone would pull at the wire out of instinct, no matter what their intentions," said Donovan.

William rolled his eyes at her line of reasoning.

Dr. Hooper used her pinky to point at the marks on the body's neck. "The angle of the ligature marks could only have been made by someone standing behind the victim, someone approximately five feet and eleven inches tall. They would have to have exceptional upper body strength, since the wire seems to have torn the skin upwards, showing that he was able to pull her feet from the ground to remove her leverage."

William's eyes widened at her deduction of the body. It was brilliant; she had gotten nearly everything correct.

"I found traces of concrete dust in her wounds, probably from the wire," said Dr. Hooper. "You're probably looking for a construction worker."

William's jaw dropped at the brilliance in front of him. She was perfect.

"All right, that's a start," said Donovan, heading back out of the doors.

Dr. Hooper shrugged a little, giving a timid smile. "Okay…"

Lestrade stepped forward towards the pathologist. "Thanks, Molly."

Dr. Hooper smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Greg."

William glanced between the two of them, deducing the friendship that had gone back at least a few years.

"Listen, John and I were planning a movie night tomorrow," said Lestrade. "Do you and Mary want to come?"

Molly smiled. "Oh, that sounds great! I really think she has a thing for John."

"Oh, really?" chuckled Lestrade. "That's funny, 'cause I think he likes her, too."

"Ooh, we need to get them together," giggled Molly, placing her plastic goggles on the instrument tray.

"So, eight o'clock tomorrow?" asked Lestrade.

"Sure," said Molly.

"See you later," said Lestrade, turning and heading out of the morgue.

William stood there, watching as Molly cleaned up after the autopsy. She didn't cringe or pale once while handling the body. She was obviously at ease with the morbid. She wasn't one of those people that holds it in while getting the job done and then promptly faints or vomits when they're done. He could tell that she had a gratification—a pleasure—in her work. Not only was she brilliant, but she was indomitable.

Molly slid the tray with Miss James' body on it into the drawer and closed the door. She turned and headed over to the chair set next to the examination table, sitting down and leaning her hands on the table. William stepped over to the table across from her, looking down at the autopsy table with her.

Molly suddenly gave a sigh. "Well, I'd say that was a job well done."

William glanced up to see Molly staring right at him.

Molly gave a little smile. "Okay, you're next."

She was staring at him! How could she—

Molly hopped off the chair and went around the table as William watched. She walked over to the table behind him, picking up the file and heading into her office.

William breathed a sigh of relief. She had been looking through him, not at him. But he could have sworn for a moment there…

He shook his head, dismissing it. It was impossible. There was no way for the mortals to see him unless he wanted them to. He paused, tilting his head a little in thought.

Do I want her to see me?

I know. Short, but hey, who says each chapter has to be a novel?