Warlock

Shooting an Angel

"Are you sure you shot him?"

"I have security camera footage to prove it." This voice was a man's, but the husky voice before it could go either direction.

A soft finger prodded his forehead, then retreated. "Hm. Show it to me."

Metal cut into his wrists, the chain connecting the two cuffs almost clinking together. Loch barely managed to cast silence upon them before they could give away his waking. From what he could tell, there were no Others besides himself in the room. There was no sound of dripping IVs, just the sound of rustling dirt. He had not closed the escape tunnel. The escape. Hopefully Skye had brought the Others to safety when he did not come out. Loch resisted the urge to open his eyes. The Hancocks would speak more freely if they thought he was still unconscious.

A bang echoed through the room, coming from a weak speaker. They were replaying security footage. He must have been shot in the head. It was the only way to knock him out for a while. What a pity; he had gone at least three hundred years without dying.

"Amazing. You can see the hole healing as soon as he hits the ground. Could any of the other demons do this?" Demon. Somehow, he preferred that title to the smiles and amusement he received from the Others now.

"Nope. Most of them couldn't even heal cuts. One of those strange-looking ones, the ones with the random mutations rather than consistent anomalies, could heal minor cuts but nothing worse." So the warlocks were the strange-looking ones. "Is it just me, or does this one look human? Maybe albino, but that's all."

"What if... no, that can't be right."

"Go on, any suggestion is useful when we're dealing with these creatures."

"Well, what if he's an angel? If there are demons, angels could exist, too. He's pale, and he has golden tattoos on his arms and everywhere else. They even glow, but you can only tell when the lighting is low. That could be like a golden halo." That was where he drew the line. Loch desperately wanted to interrupt, but he had not heard anything useful yet. Angels were a creation of the human imagination, and they epitomized everything Loch tried not to be.

"Why would an angel help demons escape?"

"Maybe he was going to kill them, or purify them."

A new voice, a female one, joined the conversation; there were more than two humans staring at him. "Let's hope he isn't an angel, since you just shot him. That's generally not something that gets you into heaven."

"Either way, we need to tell Miss Estrada about him. And about the escaped demons." Silence followed the statement. This Estrada woman had to be their superior. Perhaps she was the Viola Scarlatti of their branch. Loch felt like he had heard the last name somewhere before, but it remained buried in the cobwebs of his mind. "Maybe tell her about the demons and then about the angel-demon. The good news will distract her. Hopefully." Miss Estrada, whoever she was, controlled them through fear.

"Alright. Keep an eye on him. Move him into one of the cases. No, that won't do. He made them all open when he broke the others out. Maybe... put him in the jail cell we use for the rowdier ones. Keep a close eye on him until Dixie gets here." So he would reunite with the vampire that had ruined his forgetting spell. Ever since his brief discussion with her and Darius, he had avoided her. There was technically nothing wrong with her; he simply did not enjoy the memories she brought back. The days before the humans had developed technology were over along with his best adventures.

Loch snapped out of reminiscing as soon as he realized the implication of being brought to a jail cell. He was not about to let them pick him up and carry him, not while he was conscious at least. If one of them was about to leave out of the three that were there, he probably would not find out much information by acting unconscious anyway. Loch opened his eyes.