by T. R. Hamby
He shrugged, and then smirked. “Okay--Angela.”
“Oh, god,” she moaned as they left the cafe. “You’re one of those guys who has to give everyone a nickname, aren’t you?”
“What’s wrong with Angela?” he chuckled as they walked. “It’s ironic.”
“Because it’s the feminine name for ‘angel?’ It’s dumb,” she muttered under her breath, but Mel just smiled. He was secretly pleased she was escorting him--he liked talking to her, despite her prickliness. It was worth it, if he could make her smile, which she was doing a lot of now.
“So, jewelry maker by day--vigilante Angel by night,” she giggled. “No wonder you’re single. No time.”
“I make time for some things,” he replied wryly, and she grinned.
“I bet you do,” she said. “Underground sex clubs? Or maybe fight clubs? You’ve seen that movie, right? Angels can watch movies?”
“Angels can watch movies.”
“Are there any celebrities who are Angels? Because speaking of Brad Pitt...”
They bantered like this for the next few minutes, until they arrived at the galleria. Nora looked amazed, staring up at the large sign above the awning.
“You own Stockton’s?” she breathed.
Mel smirked at her reaction. “Yes.”
“I thought you said you run a small company,” she whispered as he held the door open for her.
“It is small. Only a few locations.”
“Yeah, on like three different continents,” she replied.
She fell silent as they stepped into the shop, looking around at the display cases and clerks. Mel couldn’t help but smirk again; there was something endearing about her amazement.
“There you are,” Lucia said, appearing from the back room, her heels clicking. “She’s calling again.”
“Leave it be; I’ll call her as soon as I’m finished,” Mel said, speaking Italian. He gestured to Nora. “My friend Nora Rossi. Nora, this is Lucia Feli, one of my associates.”
“Ciao,” Nora said, a little shy.
Lucia smiled at her, equally as shy, and Mel touched Nora’s arm. “Let me show you the back. You’ll like it.”
He led her to the back room, which was rather subdued. Bianchi and Holmes were quietly working, not bothering to see who had come in. Mel watched as Nora stared at the jewels on the work table, slowly being set in silver and gold, and soon to be arranged on a chain. She cocked her head, watching with awed curiosity as Holmes peered at a diamond through magnifying lenses.
Mel smirked, and touched her arm again, nodding his head in the direction of a velvet case nearby. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and he retrieved it, setting it on a table.
Nora stood beside him, just a few inches away, and Mel opened it. It was a large piece, with glimmering yellow topaz stones, the largest being an inch long, settled in shining silver chains. It worked like a choker, with the smallest topaz gems at the top of the chains.
Nora let out a breath, shaking her head. “Wow.”
“Beautiful?”
She nodded, glancing at him. “Very beautiful.”
“Holmes has been on a topaz kick lately. I flew to Russia to get these,” he said quietly. He was talking aimlessly, curious to know what she was thinking. She was still admiring the necklace, the light of the jewels reflecting in her eyes.
He suddenly had an idea. “Why don’t you try it on?”
She looked around abruptly. “What? No--I can’t--”
“Why not?” he chuckled. “It’s mine until I sell it. Don’t you want to see how it looks on you?”
He knew she did. If there was one thing he knew, it was jewels, and how people longed to wear them.
She eyed him cautiously, before finally giving a small nod. “Okay, I guess.”
He smirked, and carefully lifted the necklace from its box.
Nora was hushed, brushing her hair away as he looped it around her neck. “Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves or something?” she asked curiously.
He chuckled. “If I were human I would,” he whispered so Holmes and Bianchi wouldn’t hear. The necklace settled on her throat, and she shivered at its cold touch.
“Right--and Angels don’t leave prints?” she guessed.
“Coretto, Angela. Here, there’s a mirror this way…”
She walked carefully, clearly very aware of the necklace. Mel was smiling--it was dazzling on her, and she wore it well.
They stopped in front of the mirror, and Nora stared at her reflection.
“Wow,” she murmured, turning her head this way and that. She smiled. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Bellissima,” Mel said. She glanced at him, and he could tell she was wondering what he meant by that. He tried to look innocent, but on the inside he knew what was happening--he liked her, and he was trying to impress her.
“How much is this going for?” she asked, studying herself in the mirror again.
Mel chuckled. “Five hundred thousand.”
She started a little. “And you let me wear it? Are you crazy?” she exclaimed.
“According to you, I am,” he replied, drawing close so he could remove the necklace.
“Well, now it’s confirmed,” she said, holding very still. There was humor in her voice. “Congratulations, you are absolutely certified.”
“What you’re wearing is just pretty rocks and metal,” he said smoothly. “They won’t break if you drop them.”
“Still not worth it. I don’t have 500k to spare.”
He set the necklace back in its box and looked at her. She was smiling, warmly, clearly enjoying herself.
But she gave a little shrug. “I should get going...Bezi will be worried.”
Mel smiled. “Of course. Thank you for the coffee.”
He walked her out, where she hailed a cab. He stood by the windows and watched until the car was pulling away from the curb. She caught his eye and waved, and he smiled. He knew she liked him now...and it wasn’t just an amused fondness.
He had to see her again.
Mel
200,000 Years Ago
The day was warm, and little creatures were buzzing in the air, touching down on Mel’s head and tickling his skin.
But he didn’t mind. He stared at them in wonder, chuckling as they zoomed near his face, the tiniest things. Everything about this place fascinated him--the green growths, big and small, shooting up into the sky. The little furry creatures that ventured out at night. The splash of the scaly creatures jumping in the stream. It was all so different from Home.
This Tree was especially intriguing. It was the Good Tree, and Father had chosen him and Michael to guard it. The Man and Woman couldn’t be allowed to eat its fruit. They couldn’t be allowed to know that they could disobey Father.
There were suddenly footsteps, and Mel got to his feet, tensing against the Tree.
It was the Woman. She was a small thing, with tan skin and long black hair. Her eyes were dark as well, and she was naked. She couldn’t see him, as he hadn’t shown himself to her like Michael had. Mel was invisible.
He watched her slowly approach, and his heart raced. It hadn’t escaped his notice just how beautiful she was. He had avoided the cave where she lived with the Man because of how he felt for her. He had listened to their conversations, heard how bright she was--how curious. He had seen her fashion baskets and spears out of nothing but sticks and leaves. And he knew she snuck away at night, to swim in the stream.
All these things made him feel something he had never felt before. But it was very strong, and it hurt, too--because she had no idea he existed, while he thought about her so much.
Her dark eyes were focused on the piece of fruit hanging closest to her. She took a deep breath, glanced around, and stretched out her hand--
“Don’t do that,” Mel said softly.
She jumped, snatching her hand away. Her eyes met his, and he knew she could see him now.
“Who are you?” she breathed, backing aw
ay.
He stepped forward slowly, holding up his hands. “I’m Melkira. I’m a Messenger, like Michael. I’m here to guard this Tree.”
She let out a breath, frowning. “There are more of you?”
“Yes,” he said, and he smiled. “Many more. Thousands.”
She didn’t seem to comprehend that number. She shook her head, and guilt washed over her face, making her shrink.
“I just wanted to touch it,” she whispered, glancing at the fruit. “I just...I have to know.” She looked at him fearfully. “Will you tell Father?”
“No,” Mel said quickly, surprising himself. “No--no, it’s all right. But...you have to stay away. It will only tempt you if you come near.”
She sighed. “I...I just have so many questions. But no one will answer me.”
Mel studied her. It was exactly how he felt, and this drew him to her more.
“Ask me a question,” he said.
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. Then she seemed to think, tugging at her hair.
She finally looked at him, and her eyes were bright. “Tell me about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to know.”
She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed. She grinned at his laughter, and then cocked her head, her eyes focusing on his necklace.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.
Mel looked down at it. “It’s a sapphire.”
“A sapphire.”
“Yes. A long time ago, I journeyed to the northern mountains. They were filled with stones like this, and I spent many years mining them.” She looked entranced, so he continued, “I got so many that I lined the walls of my house with them. When it’s daytime, the light makes them glow.”
She looked amazed. “That sounds beautiful.”
“It is beautiful,” he murmured, loving the look in her eye.
She cocked her head again. “Where do you live?”
Mel pointed upwards. “Up There. There’s a valley, with a large river, and all of the Messengers live there. We have houses made of clay--”
“Made of clay?” she exclaimed, and he could tell she was itching to learn how to build a house for herself.
“Yes. And there are many of us.”
She was quiet for a moment, absorbing this new information. Suddenly the Man’s voice called, a good distance away, and she jumped.
“I have to go,” she said, and she started to race from the clearing. But at the treeline she paused and looked back at him.
“Will I see you again, Melkira?”
He stirred at his name on her lips, and he smiled. “Yes. And you can call me Mel.”
She smiled, too. “And you can call me Lilith.” He frowned, and she explained, “I made it up.”
Then she turned and disappeared into the trees.
Nora
It took a week for Leo’s death to finally be ruled as a stroke. There was a memorial service, which Nora attended reluctantly.
It was strange knowing the truth. Leo was being professed as a great man, while in reality he had assaulted multiple women, including his own colleague. And now everyone thought he had died a tragic death, when in reality…
What was reality? Mel King had told his story--that he was an Angel, sent by God to send bad people to Hell via his special powers. It was a load of horseshit. It had to be. But no matter how much she researched, Nora couldn’t find another explanation.
Maybe it was all a coincidence, she started to think. Yes. Mel was in the middle of threatening Leo when he died; Mel had just made a good guess about it being a stroke. He had even said it could have been a blood clot, too, to cover all his bases. It was the only thing that made sense, and Nora stuck to it.
And with that out of the way, she could think of Mel...differently.
So what--he was a liar. Or maybe he was just joking, trying to make her blood pressure rise. Either way, she didn’t think she cared. She liked him. She liked his smile--and his smirk--and she liked talking to him. She liked how he looked, too--he was lean, but she could see how fit he was in that T-shirt. And he wore a T-shirt well.
She had shivered when he had put the necklace on her, his fingers brushing against her skin. She had been suspicious the entire time--he had clearly had ulterior motives. And when she had caught his eye in the mirror--when he had called her bellissima--she knew he liked her.
She felt a little dizzy, and steadied herself on the counter. She was in the bathroom of a nightclub--La Riga--having come with Bezi and some other girls from the show. They had been dancing for hours, and she had gotten too hot, and went to the bathroom to splash some water on her neck.
She hadn’t felt like coming out in the first place, but she knew Bezi would pout if she didn’t come. But she was tired. It had been an exhausting week, with everything that had happened. Squeezing into her dress and going clubbing wasn’t quite what she felt like doing tonight.
She felt a little better, but decided to sit at the bar for a bit. Bezi checked on her, and upon confirming that Nora was still alive, flitted back into the crowd. Nora propped her head on her hand and played on her phone, sipping some water.
After a few minutes, a familiar voice was at her side. “Ciao, Angela.”
Nora looked up to find Mel, dressed in a white button-down and gray slacks, cocking his head at her.
She frowned at him. “What are you doing here? Stalking me?”
“Always the warm greeting,” he chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I was meeting a client for drinks. We’ve been here a while; I saw you come in.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling sheepish. “Right--sorry. Do you want to sit down?”
He took the chair beside her and ordered a drink from the bartender. Nora snuck a look at him, her eyes roving over him. He looked lovely, and she felt herself flush.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” he asked, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“I just got a little too hot,” she said, shrugging casually. “I’ve been dancing for hours.”
He studied her, his blue eyes shining in the neon lighting. “You didn’t want to come out, did you?”
Nora rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. “Oh, so you’re a mind reader too?”
He chuckled. “Just a lucky guess.”
She nodded firmly. “Right. Like Leo’s death. You guessed that right.”
He raised an eyebrow, and sat back in his chair. “Oh?”
“Yes. That’s what I think actually happened,” she said, lifting her chin. “Leo just happened to have a stroke while you were threatening him. And you made a good guess.”
“That’s a big coincidence.”
She shrugged, sipping her water. “Happens every day.”
“I doubt that,” he murmured. There was a brooding look on his face, and he swirled his drink in his hand. “It doesn’t explain how you felt, though.”
Nora stared at him, and he continued, “The fear you felt. The horror. You were on the floor by the time I got to you. You think that was caused by coincidence?”
She looked away, shaking him off like a fly. “I was probably having a panic attack, seeing you roughing him up.”
“You’re tougher than that,” he said knowingly. “You would have tried to get in between us if you hadn’t been overwhelmed by my anger. I bet you’ve been in a couple fights in your time.”
Nora let out a sigh. He had stumped her again.
She finally shrugged again, leaning back in her seat. “How do I look?”
She asked because she knew it would throw him off, and it did. He frowned, and his eyes took in her little black dress. She enjoyed his gaze, though she blushed.
“Gorgeous,” he finally said, and she raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t expecting such a word.
He smirked at her. “You don’t believe me?”
“I just thought you’d go for beautiful or enchanting,” she replied. “Gorgeous is just so...enthu
siastic.”
“I’m always enthused when sitting next to a beautiful woman,” he said, smirking.
She flushed again and rolled her eyes. “Flirt.”
“You started it, Angela.”
“Are you seriously going to keep calling me that?”
He chuckled. “Only so long as it annoys you.”
“Forever, then,” she said, feigning irritation, though she was smiling. He was smiling too, and they looked at each other for a moment.
Nora wanted to kiss him. But a wild shriek from the dance floor made them jump, and the moment was ruined. She swore under her breath, then slipped out of her chair.
“Let’s dance,” she said, taking his hand. It was warm, and her arm immediately tingled.
But he suddenly looked mortified. “I can’t dance,” he said quickly.
Nora gave him a wild look. “You can’t dance? Mr. Suave? Are you serious?”
“This isn’t suave dancing,” he pointed out, gesturing at the crowd. “I don’t even know what it is. But I can’t do it. I’ll look like an idiot.”
“No one will be paying attention,” she said pleadingly, tugging on his hand.
He raised an eyebrow. “You will.”
“And I promise I’ll only laugh a tiny bit,” she giggled, still pulling on him.
He chuckled despite himself, and after a moment finally stood up. “Fine,” he sighed, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.
Nora giggled again, and led him onto the dance floor.
Mel was right; his dancing was awkward, and she could tell he was self-conscious. She found this cute, and took his hand and danced goofily with him, making him laugh. He took her hand and twirled her, out into the crowd and then back into his arms.
But suddenly she was dizzy, and she stopped, clinging to his shoulders.
“I need to sit down,” she called over the din, grimacing.
He took her arm and helped her out of the crowd. Nora headed for a chair, but he guided her away, to the corner of the large room, and through a door.
“I don’t think we’re allowed back here,” she said as they walked down a shadowy hallway, which was spinning.