****
On the other side of the country a man stood fighting off a group of Hunters. He wasn’t an ordinary man either; he was an Angel and George’s father. Hunters were people who were of two opinions. One, Angels were abnormalities, demons that should not exist. Two, Angels were to be experimented on to find a way to further human society. Hunters of the first opinion were generally strictly religious societies while Hunters of the second opinion were generally government agents. The Hunters that Michael was currently fighting off were of the religious nut variety.
“EVIL DEMON!”
“FOUL CREATURE, YOU MUST BE CLEANSED OF THIS EARTH!”
“YOU’RE AN ABOMINATION, JUST DIE!”
“GOD’S WILL IS FOR YOU TO DIE, DEMON!”
“WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF!?” Some of the men shouted at him causing him to roll his eyes, he muttered “I have wings, moron. Honestly how thick are you?”
Suddenly someone flung holy water at him and he frowned as the one with the cross opened his bible and started chanting. Sighing, he quickly changed into his true form, gathering icy water to him to make his wings visible to their pathetically weak, miserable human eyes. He took flight as his outfit morphed into a pair of loose white trousers and a loose short-sleeved white shirt. A pale gold glow surrounded him as his sword appeared in his hands; he quickly sheathed it at his side aware that the Hunters were staring at him.
“I am not a demon, nor am I an abomination of any kind. I am an Angel although perhaps I am not the type of Angel that you once perceived.” Michael called down to them.
“True angels have wings of feathers and are the eternal, immortal servants of God who do His good will and bidding.” The one holding the bible said.
“This God you speak of does not exist. You have no proof that He does so you cannot prove me wrong.” Michael called down to them not unkindly.
“We will not believe your blasphemy, Demon!” Another jeered. Michael sighed before talking to them one more time.
“Then you are all blind fools. I’ll take my leave, I have better things to do than to wait around and endure your silliness.”
Michael flew up into the clouds, out of the Hunters sight as he searched for his son. After waiting for a short while he felt a tug on his consciousness alerting him to his son’s Angel awakening. He slowed, tilting his head to the side to listen to the wind.
“Syden. Your blood is in Syden, sleeping next to his young mate and they are both in great danger. Hurry.” The wind whispered to him urgently.
Michael felt a lift in his heart at discovering his son’s location and anger that something would dare to threaten his child. George had managed to elude him for most of his life and Michael had only caught a glimpse of his son with a young girl that closely resembled the boy at the funeral of his ex-lover. The now dead woman must have had another child with another man after he left and although it caused a pang in his chest that only one child was a Halfer he was glad his ex-lover had been able to move on. He knew she’d been upset when he’d told her that he had to leave, though it was necessary since Hunters had been on the verge of finding him.
Hunters. He was really getting sick of them, they’d managed to make sure he could never settle down with a family of his own, but he intended to fix that. Syden was a fairly secluded town near the Rockies, the nearest large town being about an hour’s drive. Since he was an Angel and could fly, he didn’t see the point in driving. Although that was probably the main reason he kept getting caught by the Hunters.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Mother Called Today
Michael J. Elliott
Ghostly Writes Anthology 2016 Page 24