Strange Relations

Chapter 45

Wyatt sighed. "It's been four days."

Dean shrugged. "I did warn you. She and Chuck are both rather self-centered."

"Now, Dean, that wasn't very nice."

He cursed and spun around. "Amara."

"Nice to see you too. Why is everyone suddenly finding it necessary to pray to me?"

Wyatt stood, giving her a bright smile. "We need some help with an archangel."

She folded her arms over her chest. "An archangel? You do know the archangels are the ones who helped my idiot brother lock me away?"

"Yes, we realize that, but she refuses to ask your brother for help. It seems she doesn't like him very much." Wyatt shrugged.

"Oooh, one of God's creations dislikes him? I think I need to meet this angel."

"Follow me!" Wyatt ran down the hallway.

Amara looked at Dean. "He's an eager little puppy, isn't he?"

"Behave, Amara. Just check on Mintha and let us know if you can fix what's wrong with her."

She waved a hand at him. "Fine, I'll take a look but only because she hates my brother. Then I have to get back, I have a massage scheduled for this afternoon."

Dean sighed and watched as she trailed after Wyatt.

***

Aramintha growled when there was a knock on the door. "Go away!"

The door opened and Amara strode into the room. "So, tell me how are you feeling?"

"I believe I said go away," Aramintha grumbled.

"You did, I ignored you." Amara bent over her, frowning. "Hmmm, you're not looking good at all." She poked Mintha in the chest. "Your grace is shot."

"Can you fix her?" Wyatt asked, poking his head into the room.

"Why doesn't anyone listen when I say go away?" Mintha snapped.

"Whoa ... is that you with President Reagan?" Wyatt asked as he stared at the wall covered with pictures.

"I repeat ... GO ... AWAY!" Mintha shouted.

Amara sat beside her on the bed, uncaring if she damaged the stacks of paper surrounding Mintha. "I'm not sure I can fix your grace. You either let me give it a try or you can have my brother and a guarantee that your grace will be fixed. I can't give you a guarantee because I'm not your creator." She shrugged.

"I'd tell you to go away, but it appears no one hears me when I speak," Mintha grumbled.

Amara grinned. "I like you."

"Yay for me."

"Oh wow is that Harry Truman!" Wyatt exclaimed.

"Wyatt, go away and stop fangirling over my pictures." Aramintha told him, rolling over to glare at him.

He ignored her, eyes roaming over the pictures lining the wall.

She propped her body up on her elbows. "If I let you try and fix me will you go away?"

Amara nodded. "Hold still." She placed a hand on Mintha's forehead. "Here we go."

The minutes ticked away. Mintha was silent, lying on the bed with her eyes closed. Meanwhile Wyatt oohed and ahhed over the pictures on the walls.

Armara pulled her hand away with a sigh.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Mintha asked.

"I was able to make some peripheral repairs, but the bulk of the damage is still there. All I've done is buy you some time. As badly as I don't want to say it, you need my idiot brother.."

"I'd rather die."

"I wasn't sure I believed them when they said you hate him."

"He's a self-centered prick." Mintha folded her arms over her chest.

"Agreed. I'm sorry I couldn't help. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a massage in twenty minutes and I don't want to miss it." She vanished.

"Holy ... is that Lucky Luciano?"

"Yes, Wyatt, it is. Now get out of my room."

"But all these pictures ... all these people you knew them."

"And I'm not going to talk about any of them, so get out. I want to take a nice long nap."

Wyatt made a sound like an upset puppy, stared at the wall of pictures one more time before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.