Wait...I did it! I know I said Saturday, but I did it! I was able to come up with about 4 more chapters, and I finished one!

Chapter Thirty

Past- 2007

I was sitting in Rixon's studio, waiting, agitated. I'd been there for about an hour or so. He told me that he'd be out late, but I was impatient, I had good news for myself; no great news. Normally he'd answer his texts, but tonight was different. Something seemed…off, but I decided not to push it.

I finally had a solid lead on the Book of Enoch. I knew that simply stealing it would have hellish results, but I knew that if I was able to make a secret deal with someone in power, I could finally access it. That's where Pepper Friberg came in. Old Pepper, who'd damned me so easily to Earth, was doing some undercover work. However, I'd busted him at a poker tournament, and the way he'd tried to win was less than savory, especially for an Archangel. In fact, they were downright pathetic and dirty. I'd scared him when he tried to mindtrick the entire table, and I'd blocked him. When he saw me, he blanched, and made a run for it. I cornered him outside of the building, and remembering who I was and my terrible reputation, he'd made a deal with me. He'd get me whatever I wanted as long as I didn't let slip his dirty deeds to the archangels in exchange for some leniency. I immediately asked for the Book, and although he was shocked he'd complied easily, handing me an address. Stupid mistake. So much for doing it the "right" way. It'd been about five years since that meeting, and I'd made sure to light fire under his ass all five of them, letting him know that wherever he was, I'd catch him. I finally had a way to trap him (he couldn't resist a large poker tournament; too much money at stake) it was tonight, and Rixon was supposed to be my backup.

Finally, the door opened, and Rixon shuffled in. I stood, pissed off. He smiled, as if I'd let it go.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your hat, mate." He said, tossing it to me.

"Where the fuck have you been? I told you tonight was important." I retorted, catching it.

"Whoa, are you my lady now or what? I had a run-in with Barnabas, that's all. He's been getting sneaky, and I don't like it." When he took off his jacket, I saw the blood on his shirt. When I looked at his hands, they were black, as if he'd been burned. He saw me looking at his hands, and he placed them in his pockets.

"When are you going to learn to not play with your food?" I half joked, sighing. He chuckled.

"When the Devil invites me for ice water in Hell." He answered, sauntering into his room. I rolled my eyes.

"Just shower and hurry the hell up about it. I'm this close to catching Pepper, and you're wasting time."

"Touchy. I'll get jazzed up, just for you, love." He teased. He dodged when I chucked a small statue at him.

"Asshole," I murmured. When he went to shower, I went to go examine his clothes. I'd sensed something off about his appearance, but couldn't tell what exactly. Lifting his shirt, I saw black dust on the sleeves. Gunpowder. It explained the "burns" on his hands. Apparently he'd gone to antagonize Barnabas, and went through on some threats.

Once again, I shook my head at Rixon's brutality, but it wasn't like I could do anything about it.

Next week

I was waiting at a stoplight for the traffic to pass. Apparently this long line was a funeral procession. It was quite the line, and annoyed, I turned on my radio to pass some time.

"Today, the family of respected accountant Harrison Grey are holding his funeral. Grey was murdered at gunpoint in downtown Coldwater this past weekend; police are still investigating the details."

My eyebrows rose. Harrison Grey? Chauncey's descendant? When did I miss that? My mind went back a few years, thinking of him. Blond hair, average looks. My mind shifted to the kid that he held in his arms. So it'd been that long, hm? She'd be a young woman by now. I wondered what she was like; I pictured a girly, freckled preteen, who ran for school council and screamed over B's and boy bands and played soccer. A girl who bossed others around, a know-it-all. I chuckled as I imagined a larger version of that tiny girl, throwing a ball at the referee for carding her.

Morbidly curious, I turned and followed the tail end of the procession. When they parked in a church lot, I parked across the street to wait. Wasn't going to push my luck in the Big Guy's house. Eventually, the people began to shuffle out. A sobbing woman came out, who I assumed to be his wife. She left the arms of what I could see as a young woman wearing a large black sunhat, and fell into the arms of another (relative?) The young woman trailed back, waiting for another, a blonde, to catch up. When the young woman lifted her head, I fell back into my seat in awe.

Who in the hell was that?

She wore a completely black ensemble; a black overcoat and black dress that clung all the way to her knees, fitting her soft shape well. She wore wrist length black gloves. It was a very classy effect. The black contrasted with her pale skin, which seemed to glow. Her long, curling red hair shone underneath the hat, falling to her shoulder blades. Her lips, painted with red lipstick, were sensuous. Only her eyes, a bright, intelligent gray, showed her emotions. The way she walked suggested self-confidence; modesty; strength; and I was captivated by the way she carried herself with a certain regality.

She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

There was no way…there was no way that was the little waif I'd saved all those years ago. All I could picture was freckles and little hands. What was it I'd been expecting? And there had to be a rule against looking so lovely at a funeral.

I hadn't felt more than lustful desire for a woman in centuries, and yet this girl, Nora Grey, was able to captivate me.

I watched as the blonde held her, and Nora's shoulders began to shake as she cried in the girl's arms. I was kind of upset that she'd turned away from me, but then I realized where she was. Her father's funeral. As the girl led her away, I debated following. I decided that it wasn't the day to do so. I'd have to run into her though later, maybe if she was downtown or…

What am I doing?

I was sitting there, plotting like a little school boy, trying to see her again. I was a fallen angel, and her ancestor was still my enemy. I couldn't sit around trying to mess around with her! Besides…something about her was so…vulnerable. She was alone…I could fix that…

NO.

Shaking my head, I pulled away as quickly as possible. She was only, what, fifteen? I didn't need this. I didn't need her. I needed to get back on track. Becoming human.

If you became human, you could be with her. Better move within her lifetime. Just saying.

And now I was talking to myself. But once I'd said it, I couldn't get it out of my head.

I couldn't get her out of my head.

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