Angel Hunter

Chapter 5: Panic

MICHAEL

The panic in her eyes had Michael on guard in an instant. She looked around quickly, taking in her surroundings. Her hands scrabbled at the bed, looking for something, anything, he knew, to fight with. He knew it was best not to startle her. Any warrior reacted badly when startled, but an injured one, it was much, much worse. For a moment she seemed fine and then her pain registered. Her grip slackened and her eyes filled with pain. Her face twisted into a mask of agony. Her lips parted and a whimper escaped her. Michael had spent hundreds of millenia hearing those in pain, those dying, but this was different. Her strangled whimper had him agitated, desperate to help, but knowing they could do nothing else. He didn't seem to be able to control himself. His fingers had unconsciously sought out hers, tangling their fingers together. Her pained expression eased somewhat as he pressed his palm to hers. She opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment.

"It hurts." she whispered, barely audible. He felt her pain, almost an echo of the many wounds he'd had. He smoothed her hair back from her face with his other hand.

"I know sweetheart, I know. Just try and relax, you're tensing, pulling on the muscles and skin." She blinked and tried to relax. He kept stroking her hand with his thumb, and running his fingers through her hair. She relaxed finally into the bed, eyes focused on him. Her eyes were tired he could tell. She was struggling to stay awake. The panic was returning, but this time it was worse. Terror, absolute fear surfaced. He refused to let it win. "You're safe here, I promise, no one's going to hurt you." He saw her eyes, relinquishing control to him, relying on him, trusting his word, trusting that he'd keep her safe. He kept up his ministrations for several more moments before he withdrew his hand. The nurse stepped forward, the pain medicine in a needle. She carefully injected the girl. After several moments, her face relaxed, pain dissipating at last. Michael was exhausted. He left the girl in the nurse's care for a few hours, having one of the three Nephilim guard her. He didn't know what species she was, but he knew what she wasn't. She wasn't vampire, werewolf or faerie. She clearly wasn't a witch or demon. She wasn't a shadow walker or siren. She could have been a descendant of a warrior clan, spartans, valkerie, amazon, gypsy, ect. Michael pulled his shirt over his head, and laid back down. He was too tired to properly understand anything about her right now. He sighed and closed his eyes, quickly dropping off to sleep.

Thunder boomed overhead, lightning lighting up the house where rain was pouring in. The front door had been torn from its' hinges, the windows shattered and what looked like an explosion had caused part of the wall and roof to buckle, letting the elements in. The house, which had probably been quite nice had been torn apart. The couches had been shredded, pillows torn open, dishes shattered, pictures ripped to shreds and their frames shattered. Plants had been smashed against the ground and he could hear the damage being done elsewhere. A scream echoed through the house, so terrified it made him cover his ears. A woman was dragged into the hallway, bloodied and scared. The man dragging her was smirking in triumph. He threw the woman down before a tall hooded man.

"The angel's companion." He said, sneering. A child's cry came next. A boy of about ten was dragged into the room.

"Nephilim." The man said derisively. Michael could nearly see the hooded man's vicious grin. Both of their faces drained of color when an infant's cry began to echo. Michael could see the woman's hopelessness on her face. A cheer echoed from within the house. A woman Hunter strode into view, carrying the fussing infant. The hooded man chuckled darkly and took the child.

"An Angeling, you must be so proud. Your little girl would have been highest among naturals." The woman refused to answer, instead, she screamed and attacked, yelling for her son to go, to run. He hesitated, but did. The woman was killed instantly. The man still cradled the infant Angeling, his thoughts turning to how useful she might be. Another man in black appeared in the doorway, mouth open in horror.

"You killed my sister." The hooded man turned to him.

"Brad, your sister was the mother of two abominations. She protected them, she had to die." The man, Brad, swallowed.

"Did you kill them?"

"Kill them?"

"Her children."

"The boy will be hunted down and killed. The other will be your responsibility to care for, you are her uncle." The hooded man said, handing him the infant.

"A girl, an Angeling?" He said looking down in shock.

"Our secret weapon." The man corrected. Michael stared at the scene in horror, realizing what he was seeing. The Hunters had an Angeling, had kidnapped an Angeling and murdered her family.

Someone was shaking Michael awake. He saw Kal's worried face.

"We need your help. That girl, she's got a fever and she's panicking." Michael didn't bother with a shirt or shoes. He ran past other naturals gathered in the hallways to the infirmary. He could hear the shouting from the end of the hall. Displeasure was apparent in his eyes. He pushed the doors opened dramatically, causing the group of people to turn and look. He could see the small figure backed into a corner and his displeasure became anger. The girl's face suddenly seemed familiar to him and he realized in that moment who she was. His anger increased to absolute fury.

"What, may I ask, is going on?" His fury was apparent in his tone. Some of then spluttered, not understanding. Matt and Jared didn't look particularly happy as they stood closest to the girl, more defensive than offensive. That cooled his anger only slightly, they were still protecting her. He slid betweeen them to where the girl was. She looked up at him, a knife in her hand, absolutely terrified. She didn't lash out at him even as he approached, until he was a foot away from her. She held the knife out shakily, a warning. He overlapped her hand with his on the knife as he squatted down. He spoke lowly enough that no one else would be able to hear.

"Are you alright? No one hurt you?" She shook her head slowly, but refused to look at him.

"How's your side?" He saw the red spreading on her tank top. He remained calm as he carefully pried the knife from her fingers and set it behind him. She looked up, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks.

"I can't see." She whispered, panicked. He realized they had it all wrong. She was scared of them, not threatening them. He took her hand, lacing their fingers and she realized who it was.

"You."

"Come here sweetheart." She let him pull her into his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face. Michael turned back to the others.

"All of you, get out." Michael hissed between clenched teeth, his fury greater than ever.