Chapter 2

Here We Go Again.

This is not happening , I kept telling myself, pretending like the world wasn't ending and being reborn again at the same time right in front of my eyes. A tornado of emotions was raging within me and it must have been painted clearly in my glistening eyes as Patch's own charcoal ones creased with confusion and obvious discomfort – but not even a flash of recognition.

I am dead – a ghost of the ether. I don't feel or experience . I just am. I think.

I pushed the flood of memories away, knowing that they did not belong to me anymore. They were some other girl's and she was long and irrevocably gone. I cleared my throat loudly , banishing the lump which lodged there. I pushed all thoughts of the wretched note to the back of my mind. I would deal with it later , when the time came. And something told me that it wasn't going to take its own sweet time getting here. But regardless, right now, I had a job to do. Actually , speaking of – what the hell was Patch doing in a brothel?

I didn't have time to ponder the integrity of Patch's morals as all of a sudden he took a predatory step forward , breaking the deep reverie of unanswerable questions in which I found myself drowning.

He smiled. I gasped. It was such a beautiful smile , it stood for so many things...not that he knew. But as gorgeous as his smile was, it wasn't exactly like the one I remembered. It was...darker . More despondent. It hid something, the nature of which Patch himself couldn't even guess at. The only reason I knew was because I saw a magnified version of it every day when looking in the mirror .

I returned my attention to the sinfully beautiful conundrum in front of me.

"...Perfect", a husky voice confessed in a slightly hushed tone as his eyes drank me in. It was like melted chocolate; rich, smooth , and most importantly it made me crave something I shouldn't.

"Perfection is a subjective standard. An illusion. And I am certainly not a mirage...if you'd care to find out", I responded in a teasing tone, the words dripping with insinuation. I've been playing the game for a long time now – I knew how this worked. And judging by Patch's expression so did he – a prospect which concerned me greatly. The Patch I knew certainly wasn't any definition of innocent but slouching around at morally questionable establishments wasn't why I-... it wasn't what I wanted for him.

"Well, I suppose that is what I'm paying for", he uttered , amusement colouring his words as his form slowly advanced in order to eclipse mine. He was so close now, I could simply reach out and touch the dark material of his plain black T-shirt. Not ... that I would feel it, I sighed , self-pity making an unscheduled appearance. It was funny , I lacked the capacity to feel the tiniest speck of pleasure on my skin and yet the ache within was as big a torture as ever. It almost overshadowed the fact that an evil conclave of the so-called servants of heaven wanted the love of my life (as unaware as he was of that fact) dead ... at my own hands.

Collapsing back into my role as a Lady of the Night I continued to string Patch along with more suggestive words, not exactly sure where I was hoping to go.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special", I sighed before chuckling , seemingly amused.

"Oh Girl, I'm trying to hold back. You've no idea". His eyes raked me up and down and I had to force myself to remember that this wasn't him – well, no, it WAS him but it wasn't me. It wasn't us. There could never be an us ever again. Besides it's not like he came here looking for a relationship – just relations. Which was ...odd. And nothing like the boy I used to know. But then again I'm not exactly the Nora he was ripped away from ...that time. I wasn't sure if I was anything anymore besides a tool ...and a weapon.

Then suddenly I could feel Patch's hand in my hair. Well, I couldn't exactly FEEL it but I sensed the shift in energy that took place between us. I shivered and he grinned, apparently loving the effect he had on me.

I had to stop this – this wasn't how it was supposed to work. The mission was; get in, flirt, get information, get out . And if necessary, get my hands a little dirty in the process. After all, I wasn't the Angel of Death in title only.

I was going to pull away , I was just about to I swear but then something strange happened. He pulled my entire body into his and ever so gently pressed his full lips against my right temple. It wasn't even a kiss, it was a caress, a fragile and meaningful connection between two entities who ran on completely different wavelengths. And it certainly was not the way a man is supposed to treat a prostitute.

Long , dark cracks were beginning to spider-web at the edges of the dam which I built to hold back the reservoir of memories . It was the only way to face everyday life without spontaneously combusting from the sheer weight of my loss . The loss which I myself approved with the scalding seal of someone backed into a corner with no way out. And now...now it was all about to come crashing down. For a split second I wondered if I would survive the fall . It was only a split second because Patch chose that moment to uproot every fortification I built to imprison any and all hope over the past years.

In truth, it was pathetic that all it took to destroy my seemingly rock-hard resolve was one simple word. The one banal phrase muffled by the curly mess of my hair that I would soon blame for , well...everything.

"Angel".

...

Once again I appreciate any and all reviews. What do you think about the the chapters so far? Too short? Too shit? Let me know!