Chapter Thirty-Four

Patch's POV

October 2007

I sat in the cemetery. It was an odd place to be, I know, but it was the calmest, quietest place I could find to think in. The mist lay over the grass, and I knew that if I could feel, I'd be freezing. As I sat there, an old song came to mind that I liked. Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen. It always carried a sense of irony with me. I began to hum it, occasionally murmuring a lyric. My voice came out dry and worn, and I stopped. There was a day I could have belted out that song with no problem…now, not so much. I wasn't worried too much on that. I stared off into space as I yet again contemplated my choice.

Nora Grey. I'd followed her around ever since Dabria had visited, discovering where she lived, the types of things that she did, and what she liked and didn't. I found out what school she went to, and I decided to enroll during the spring. She was like a puzzle, and I wanted to figure her out so badly. It was such a waste, I felt, killing her. But I couldn't let her live. Beautiful as she was, interesting as she could possibly be, I'd waited and worked tirelessly through centuries for the chance to make humanity my reality. I wasn't going to give it up over some soft feelings. Still, I couldn't imagine walking up and killing her. It wasn't a "good enough" sacrifice. Therefore, to assuage any guilt I had (and to make it official), I decided that I could spend time around her first. I needed to get closer to her anyway, which was why enrolling in her school was a brilliant move. I kept trying to convince myself that she was just a regular girl. I'd killed before and felt no scruples; why now should I feel anything? I was doing like Rixon said, overthinking things, and I needed to stop. I'd made a plan, and I needed to go through with it.

I turned towards the sound of walking. Speaking of the devil, Rixon's head appeared from the fog. He'd been gone for a couple of months, spending time back in Ireland with his old friends. I felt no need to ever return to the commune, but he apparently missed it.

"Moonlighting with the dead?" he asked me. He leaned against another gravestone, looking at me oddly. "Let me guess. You've got it in your mind to possess the dead?" he teased, shaking his head. "I don't know. Maggots squirming in your eyeholes…and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit far."

Ha, ha, asshole. "This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side."

Rixon smirked. "Cheshvan starts tonight. What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard?"

Cheshvan did start that night. I hadn't put too much thought into it. It was the same thing every year; nothing too exciting.

"Thinking."

He snorted. "Thinking?"

I smirked. Yes, thinking. "A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision."

Rixon frowned. "I'm starting to worry about you. Come on. Time to go. Chauncey Langeais and Barnabas await. The moon turns at midnight. I confess I've got my eye on a betty in town. I know you like them red, but I like em' fair, and once I get into a body, I intend to take care of unfinished business with a blonde who was making eyes at me earlier."

Oh, Rixon. I sighed internally. I knew he was only teasing, but in my mind, Cheshvan was becoming more than irrelevant. Not with the possibility of so much more at hand.

"Are you daft? We've got to go." He whined. "Chauncey's oath of fealty. Not ringing a bell? 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 pushed, grinning.

Damn Chauncey's oath of fealty! I wanted to shout. Rixon had just listed every reason as to why I wanted to be a human. If anything, now I really didn't want to move. I glanced at Rixon, changing the topic.

"What do you know about The Book of Enoch?" I'd dragged Rixon on more than enough missions, but it hardly seemed like he ever paid any attention.

"About as much as any fallen angel. Slim to none." No attention at all, then.

"I was told there's a story in The Book of Enoch. About a fallen angel who becomes human." I was completely serious, but Rixon fell over in laughter. Hmph.

"You lost your mind, mate? The Book of Enoch is a bedtime story. And a good one by the looks of it. Sent you straight to dreamland."

Dreamland indeed. I looked at the moon, into the heavens. "I want a human body." There. I'd declared it, out loud.

"You'd best be happy with two weeks and a Nephil's body. Half human is better than nothing. 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 my eyes to him, daring him to laugh anymore. He was supposed to be supporting me, and here he was still laughing when I finally had everything set.

"Two weeks isn't enough. I want to be human. Permanently."

I hadn't felt this level of determination since I'd first left Heaven. It was refreshing, although if I were being logical, I'd have remembered that it also got me banished.

Rixon stopped laughing, and ran his hands through his hair. "The Book of Enoch is a fairytale. We're fallen angels, not humans. We never were human, and we never will be. End of story. Now quit arsing around and help me figure out which is the way to Portland."

I didn't need his negativity. I'd do it, with his support or without. "I'm going to become human." I wouldn't let my slight care for Nora Grey stop me. I wouldn't change my mind.

Rixon sighed. "Sure, mate, you can."

"The Book of Enoch says I have to kill my Nephil vassal. I have to kill Chauncey." By killing his lovely descendant as well. A sad trade off, but…stop thinking about it!

"No, you don't." Rixon replied, getting impatient at my stubbornness. "You've got to possess him. A process by which you take his body and use it as your own." I rolled my eyes. I'm sure he felt pretty awesome using my words back at me. "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."

I had to resist the urge to tease "But, Rixon!" Couldn't he understand the depth of my determination? Could he not see how possessed I was with this idea?

"If I kill him, I'll become human and I won't need to possess him." It was perfect.

He sighed and pinched in between his eyes. "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—"

Enough. I need an opinion. "Two choices." I stated.

"Eh?"

"Save a human life and become a guardian angel, or kill your Nephil vassal and become human. Take your pick."

"Is this more Book of Enoch rubbish?" he asked.

"Dabria paid me a visit." I revealed. I hadn't told him this before now.

Rixon's eyes widened, and he snorted. I told him more than once how crazy she was, and how much I realized I couldn't stand her over the years. He knew this was a bombshell.

"Your psychotic ex? What's she doing down here? Did she fall? Lost her wings, did she?"

"She came down here to tell me I can get my wings back if I save a human life."

His eyes widened. "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."

Valid point. "But if you had a choice?" I pushed.

"Aye, well, my answer depends on one very important distinction. Am I roaring drunk…or have I completely lost my mind?"

I stared at him. I had no time for his humor. He sobered up quickly at my face.

"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."

He seemed so determined not to believe in me. Rixon, the person who'd come up with the most outlandish plans, crazy escapades, and insane ideals, decides on this, the most important decision of my life, to be conservative and crack jokes. Honestly…what was his deal? It may have been because he was worried about me. Or because he had a tendency to see things in black and white. Maybe I was being too serious about it… Either way, I had a plan in motion, and I wasn't going to let it drop. He'd have my back regardless. Thinking about things would no longer suffice; now was the time for action. I shook my head.

"How much money can we make before midnight?" I asked him. Rixon's stance relaxed, and he smiled.

"Playing cards or boxing?"

"Cards." I always made more money in cards. Rixon's eyes flashed in mischief.

"What do we have here?" he teased. "A pretty boy? Come here and let me give you a proper clatter."

He came at me, but I was able to drag him to the ground, swinging. Once upon a time, he could have beaten me easily. Now, not so much.

"All right, all right!" he shouted, throwing his hands up. "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 at me. "Won't increase my chances with the ladies."

I smirked at him, glancing with pride at the large shiner he had.

"And a black eye will?" So much for blond betty! I teased via mindspeak.

Although he couldn't feel, he instinctively reached up to touch his face.

"You didn't!" he shouted, horrified. He swung at me, but I jumped out of the way and raced down the hillside of the cemetery. I heard him take off after me.

"Come back here! I ought to break that pretty nose of yours, you bastard!"

I laughed, and it echoed into the distance.

Chauncey's Diary

What is this?

My men have been excellently trained, are growing more and more powerful every day, and as such, I've placed some spies out on Patch. I've been suspicious of him, more than usual. He's…changed. The last Cheshvan I spent enslaved was anti-climactic. He didn't do much at all, besides gamble. He seemed…distracted. Why? My spies have reported to me that he's been following a girl. He's followed her to her home, the library, to her school. He even enrolled in her school! Anywhere she's been, he has been.

Why?

What is it about this girl that makes him observe her so? He has never portrayed any sort of interest in any girl outside of pure carnality. I've done some research on her myself. Nora Grey, daughter of Harrison Grey. Although he was another branch, a distant, indirect descendant, he was still one of the last of my line. It was a pity he was dead. He was murdered apparently. Shame. Barnabas had been miserable that entire week, but had learned not to speak of it. I let him mope; he deserved at least one friend. The girl had practically none of my Nephilim blood; in fact, the one drop of it was stained by Blythe Adams' whore blood. Thank goodness Barnabas dropped her when he did. She had some of those same silly tendencies as his mother, and it would have driven him to distraction.

So what was it about her that he needed? He didn't need her to use me, and he hadn't simply seduced her, and something told me that it was about more than sex.

Why does he need her?

The girl wasn't ugly. She looked eerily like the beautiful witch Elizabeth Underwood, if I were being honest. An eerie coincidence. The same red hair, size and shape. I knew nothing about her, and it never occurred to me that I should bother. She was irrelevant, another member of this town.

Until now.

What if?

If he did, I could finally hold something over him! I could beat Patch at his own twisted game!

I needed to know. I needed to get close, get someone near them so that I could find out what I needed to. It was time to jump into the fray on my own. I was almost giddy with the information. If I was honest, this would be my first real move since I'd blown his head off with my Smith and Wesson. It could finally be my leg up; my way to torture him the way he'd tortured me for so long… Unlocking the secret to this girl could be it! I kept repeating the phrase to myself as I planned, almost as a mantra.

What if Patch has fallen in love with Nora Grey?