I stir uneasily to see his face, asking, “But if protecting me will be dangerous for you, why would you take on that responsibility?” He’s crazy to get involved with me.

“Evie, do you know how old I am?” he asks me broodingly.

“Old,” I surmise generally because I have no concept of the kind of old he is.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I’ve been here for a long time, evolving along with humans, but not being one of them. I have fought alongside other angels. We’re good soldiers, brutal assassins. We do not behave like family; our friendships are militarily based for the most part.”

“I see,” I say, trying to imagine his evolution.

“I am a soldier…I kill… I do not feel,” he says the last word like it is an affliction as he struggles to explain. “But then I saw you, and emotions that I have never felt before…” He glances at my face, trying to see if I understand what he is saying. “You are like a siren who calls to me, and I feel…” he trails off.

“What do you feel?” I urge him, placing my hand gently against his cheek.

“Do you know why I came looking for you today? How I found you sitting on the steps?” he asks, leaning into my hand.

“No,” I breathe, fascinated by the smooth perfection of his face.

“It is your heart. It sings to me; it calls to me. I know when you’re afraid, when you have nightmares that wake you up in the middle of the night. I know when you’re happy. But, you scared me today. Your heart stopped singing. It slowed down, and I could barely hear you. I had to find you…” he says, and moves his face so that his lips brush against my palm tenderly.

“You can hear my heart from far away?” I ask, and think the organ in question might just stop beating from over stimulation when he nods. “And you still have the fluttering, like butterflies?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“This must have happened to you before. I can’t be the only person who has had…” I stop when he shakes his head no. Elation courses through me for a moment until I think to ask, “There has been no one for you?”

“Not on Earth,” he affirms, and my heart breaks for him. To exist for eternity without love…

“It doesn’t make any sense; you’re perfect, and I’m a mutant. What can God be thinking?” I ask him.

“You are not a mutant, and I am not perfect,” he murmurs. “There is one thing I have learned in all of the time that I have been here, and it is the best lesson I can teach you. It is this: never presume to know the mind of God.”

“Yeah, well, that’s an easy lesson for me because I don’t have a clue,” I state with conviction. I think about what he had just said about my heart, and being alone for most of his existence. What could that have been like for him? “Aren’t there, you know, girl angels?” I ask, blushing.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Well, what are they like?” I ask him, feeling somewhat jealous of the divine creatures that I know nothing about.

His green eyes soften as he looks into mine. “Excellent warriors,” he replies.

I sigh. “I mean, what are they like when you’re not fighting?” I probe, hoping to get a glimpse into his world.

His smile turns smug as he asks, “You are asking me how they are different from you?” I nod, wondering if he could tell that I’m jealous. He shrugs, saying, “The ones that were sent to Earth to destroy the Fallen are tough, like their male counterparts. There is almost no femininity to them. They lack the mystique that human women seem to possess, the allure. Some angels do pair up here, but it is for comfort. Rarely do we stay together as partners.”

“You’re kidding?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “We are warriors; we don’t have emotions like humans seem to have, at least, not until recently.” He sounds irritated by the admission. “There are other types of angels that are not warriors. They have other missions and are softer, but I have not been attracted to them either.”

“What about human women? Not one of them has ever attracted you?” I ask incredulously. What are the odds of that?

Reed’s expression turns askance. “Human women are much too fragile, too breakable; one would have to use extreme restraint to…” he trails off and begins again, “I am extremely strong, and I could…but I have never been tempted to try… there has been no one who…”

“Sings to you?” I ask, taking pity on him and saving him from having to stammer on with his explanation.

“Yes,” he breathes in relief that I’d saved him from having to say more.

“What about me? I’m half human. Am I too fragile?” I hedge my question, being unable to broach the topic fully.

“You are fragile right now. I could shatter you easily, without any effort at all. But soon, that will change, and you will be strong, like an angel,” he replies confidently.

“You act like I’m going to spin a cocoon and undergo a metamorphosis or something,” I say, hoping against hope that I am wrong.

“No, nothing that drastic…well, maybe metamorphosis is a good enough description,” he says thoughtfully.

“How do you know that I will change?” I ask suspiciously.

“We all start out weak and then evolve around your age,” he explains knowingly.

“When?” I ask, my voice hush.

“Soon,” he says softly.

“How soon?” I utter.

He shrugs and says, “When you’re ready.”

I roll my eyes in frustration. “Will I look different?” I wonder.

“Not to the unobservant, but there will be subtle differences.”

I could kick him for not elaborating. It’s like pulling teeth with him sometimes. I would say typical male not to give any details, but there is nothing typical about Reed.

“Painful?” I ask worriedly.

“That’s all relative,” he replies.

“Pain is not subjective,” I say stiltedly.

“Really? How does this feel?” Reed asks as he pinches my upper arm.

“Ouch! That hurt!” I exclaim, pulling my arm away from him and rubbing the abused appendage vigorously.

“You may be in trouble,” he says, and he has the audacity to sound amused.

“You know, I could turn out to be stronger than you. What are you going to do then?” I pout.

He just chuckles at me like I’m joking, or maybe because he’s kind of happy. That seems to be it; he’s happy about my inevitable transformation into a stronger being, a being that would be able to keep up with him…and he’d be the only other being I would know that would be capable of keeping up with me.

“Reed?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he replies.

“If I’m not fully human, and I’m not pure angel, then how am I supposed to know what rules I have to follow? I don’t know any angel laws. I only know some of the human ones, and I’m not even sure about those half the time,” I say.

His brow furls, “I don’t know, Evie. Some of our laws don’t always coincide with the human laws,” he says with a perplexed expression.

“Example?” I ask.

“Humans aren’t supposed to kill each other. I’m sent specifically to kill,” he replies plainly.

Even though his admission should’ve disturbed me, I feel more curious than anxious as I say, “Avenging angel—got it.”

“Right,” he says with a small smirk. “Humans are supposed to honor their parents. I was created by God, no mother, no father.”

“Ah, yes,” I say, trying to hide my shock about that revelation.

“Humans aren’t supposed to seek comfort from the spouse of another person, but angels don’t have spouses; we don’t marry.” Reed explains casually. “But many humans seem to have a really hard time with that rule.”

“I’m getting the picture, thanks,” I reply before seizing this new piece of information. Casually, I ask, “So, you don’t marry—how very interesting, but you can…” I couldn’t go on and ask him what I want to.

This time, Reed saves me. “You want to know if I’m like a man, can I make love to a female if I want to?” he asks with amusement in his tone.

“Yes,” I reply, feeling my face getting red.

“Yes, but it would be for pleasure only. I’m incapable of producing a child,” he enlightens me.

“Then, how am I even possible?” I gasp.

“Evie, that’s precisely why you’re an enigma; by all logic you should never exist, but you do, and the fact that you do means that something has changed. Nothing about you is how it should be because you shouldn’t be,” he says slowly, trying to make the weight of his words sink in.

“How are angels created?” I ask him.

“We are born of fire,” he states. When my eyes widen, he continues, “Well, ‘born’ may not be the proper term. I was never an infant. I have always appeared as I do now, but I was weak—like you—in the beginning of my life. I evolved wings as I matured and I expect that you will too, but I am not privy to how your evolution will occur. I am only making assumptions based on what I have seen of you thus far. The way you heal— that is angelic.”

I chew my lower lip. “If I become an angel, or more like one anyway, what will happen when my friends notice, or my uncle notices that I’m not aging?” Reed is silent. He doesn’t know how to tell me what I already know, so I save him the trouble of explaining by saying, “I can’t tell them, can I?”

“No,” he replies softly.

“It’s one of those rules?” I ask him exasperatedly.

“Yes,” he says.

“I don’t think I like your rules. Maybe it means that neither set of rules applies to me, have you thought of that?” I counter argumentatively. “I didn’t ask for this distinction: to be the only angel ever created with a soul. Who would want this?”

“Evie,” he sighs.

“Reed,” I say in frustration.

“I wish I had all of the answers for you, but I’m not omnipotent or all-knowing. In fact, I know very little when it comes to you. But I’m not unhappy that you exist.” Reed says in a sexy tone, while leaning closer.