Alphas and Angels

Alphas and Angels - Chapter 2

After many twists, turns, and steps climbed, Zach knocks on one of the many doors in the hallway, and someone opens it. I keep my eyes on my feet still.

I wait for movement, but there is none.

"Um, can we come in?" Zach asks whoever must be blocking our way.

"Who are they?" Something inside of me starts to stir at the sound of that voice. A foreign feeling in fact. Whatever it was, I liked it. That voice, dare I say, is a voice worthy of an angel. Deep yet velvety, smooth yet rugged. It has my heart skipping a beat.

"We're not sure. We found them roaming around the woods," Zach answers.

"Let them in," someone commands from inside, his voice powerful and commanding.

Dad gives me a gentle nudge forward, and I snap out of my almost hypnotic trance and force my feet forward, instead of towards that amazing voice.

"Look up," the man behind the desk we stop in front of orders me firmly. Reluctantly, I do, and am more than happy when he doesn't look at me as if I have a second head. Just by his looks though, he doesn't seem to be a man of many emotions. His face is as solid as stone. He looks young, maybe in his mid-thirties or so. "State your names please."

"Errapel," Dad says first without wasting a moment. I suppose that means I should follow suit. The man looks to me next, and I clear my throat.

"Emmy Lou." No matter how much I loathe my full name, it must be necessary if Dad stated his. Errapel is a mouthful; I would call him Erin, if I didn't already call him Dad.

"Surnames."

Dad and I exchange looks. Neither of us has a last name. My mother never told me hers, as it didn't really matter, so I can't use that.

"Not available," I say, hesitantly.

"Excuse me?" the man questions, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

"We don't have last names," I explain. "It's sort of a...family tradition."

I see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. Just as quickly as a sign of emotion is there though, it's gone.

"Last names are a family tradition," he says.

"Oh, well, I don't know anything about family traditions."

"Very funny. Now, please state your last name." I resist the urge to groan aloud. Is it not clear enough that we don't have last names? Last names are useless in Heaven. Even if we did have last names, it's not going to get anything accomplished. If he plans on trying to pull a record up or something, he's going to be disappointed when he comes up short.

"Nevaeh. Surname is Nevaeh," Dad answers before I have the chance to divert. I give him a questioning look, to which he returns with a ghost of a smile. It takes a second, but then I realize it. Nevaeh is Heaven spelled backward.

Clever, I say telepathically, smiling at our newly formed inside joke.

"Errapel and Emmy Lou Nevaeh, please have a seat." We do as instructed, taking the comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk. I fold my hands in my lap, my posture perfect. If there is one thing I hate, it's slouching. Or at least, my mother hated it and I picked up on it. The man takes a moment to look us over, his eyes calculating.

I'm not too aware of that though, because I'm too focused on a pair of eyes I can feel on the back of my head. I can sense a strong emotion emanating from the person staring at me. It's undoubtedly lust. But there is also some other feelings as well. Longing, desire, affection. I find it all a bit overwhelming. Who could be having such intense feelings? And why?