Fallen

Chapter Seven

Reaching the edge of the room, he spotted Michael. The Angel stood quietly, almost as though unobserved despite the attention his comrades still garnered, standing only steps from the main floor. His eyes were surveying the room, as though he was already making judgments of their worth. While his face was impassive, his posture relaxed in spite of the stiff natural stance of his kind, Xander still felt persecuted.

Stepping up beside him, Xander moved into the Angels view. Not quite as tall as Michael, Xander still posed and impressive figure. Broad and muscular, dark and daring, he knew of the stature he created.

Michaels eyes dropped to Xander, unsurprised and unmoved by his sudden presence. His face remained impassive, his only physical gesture of acknowledgement being a bow of his head.

"Hello," he offered, his hands remaining clasped at his back.

Even though Michael had done nothing but greet him, Xander felt his blood turn to fire. Everything about the Angel angered him. His stance, giving the impression that he was separate from everything around him, as though he were above it all. His expression, implying that nothing and no one was a threat to him in any way. And even his greeting, so perfectly mortal, that Xander felt it a mockery to the life of the Fallen.

"Why are you really here?" he blurted, unable to hold back his thoughts.

Despite his hostile tone, the Angel remained passive.

"I ask your pardon. I do not understand your question."

Xander's face hardened. "Why are you here?" he repeated. "We all know our fate was sealed centuries ago. That the continued meetings with the messengers were nothing more than a ruse to hide the fact we were condemned forever. But now, they go so far as to send you here, in a final show of good faith before they close the door on us." Xander took a step forward, leaving himself only a pace from the Angel. "What did you do to end up with this fate? Or did you want this mission, to mingle with the mortals." Xander almost snarled his final statement. "You were certainly intrigued by my cousin moments ago."

Michaels blue eyes burned, deepening in color in reaction to Xander's accusations. Otherwise, he remained the same, no shift in weight, no change in expression. His eyes, however, altered ever so slightly.

"I am here, as it was bid by Yerachmiel and Azbogah. They asked for my assistance, as I work along side Rahmiel, to ensure mercy in this matter." With a pause, Michael appraised Xander, looking him over much as he had done with Harper. "Xander Verland," he said, surprising Xander noticeably. "It would seem, that your reputation proceeds you. We had been warned of your short temper, and loose tongue. Also of your distaste for our presence, feeling it an interference rather than the gift it is meant to be. Do not assume to know us, or the fate of your kind, as you know neither."

Xander was left speechless, something that was quite difficult to render him. If anything, Michael's appraisal of him had been spot on, leaving Xander to fear what else the Angels knew of them.

"If I may offer advice?" Michael added, with a gentle, and surprisingly human tilt of his head. "Do not take this same approach with my Lead, Ariel. I am patient, as it is my nature. He is not, as it is his task to find you flawed. Do not give him the evidence he seeks, if you truly wish to be restored to Heavens gates."

Xanders teeth ground together, as he closed a final step between himself and Michael. Despite his advance, the Angel did not move, nor did he appear afraid.

"How dare you,"

"Xander," a deep, heavy voice called. Xander's movement ceased, while his posture remained stiff and hostile. He did not look away from the gaze of the Angel, as he felt another step to his side.

"What is going on here?" Jonathan asked, nervous tension in his tone.

Jonathan's eyes locked on Xander, feeling the hostility radiate off the young man in waves. He feared, as it was his nature, that the boy would not bow to his will, and step away. Xander was nothing if not confrontational, especially when passionate about a subject. He would stand his ground to the death, and while his dedication was honorable, Jonathan knew it was also dangerous.

Placing a hand to the boys shoulder, Jonathan gently nudged him back. He heard Xander exhale, his eyes still locked angrily on the Angel, who remained unmoved by the scene unfolding. With a final push, Jonathan was able to back Xander a pace behind, to a less antagonistic position.

Looking to the Angel, Jonathan was quick to offer regret on Xander's behavior.

"I apologize, Michael," he sighed, positioning himself slightly between the two. "My nephew is rather passionate, and at times, impulsive."

Michael offered a nod. "It is entirely forgiven. We understand the uncertainty many feel with our presence. It is a emotion that we would expect to evoke...passion...as you say."

Jonathan offered a thankful bow of his head, before turning to Xander. The moment his back was turned to Michael, his eyes blazed with anger. Pushing the boy back, he merged them into the crowd, and out of ear shot from the Angel, who remained standing off the main floor as though nothing had occurred.

Once far enough away, Jonathan took Xanders shirt in his fist.

"What the hell are you doing!?" he growled, shaking the younger man.

Xander immediately brought his hands to his uncle's grip, pushing it away harshly. "I didn't say anything we haven't all said," he defended. "We know they are not impartial. We know our fate was decided a long time ago, and this is just some stupid formality before they end it for good."

Jonathan could not hold back the groan of exasperation that left him. "You stupid, foolish child," he scolded. "Don't you understand this is our last chance? Regardless of what we say behind our own doors, it is not to be communicated to the council. We are to appear hopeful, and we are to work towards the redemption they have promised consideration. You throwing your child's tantrum did nothing more than prove yourself impulsive and without control. You could have damaged everything we are about to begin to repair!"

"Uncle,"

"Shut up," Jonathan snapped. "Hear me clear, Xander. You are to stay away from the Angels from this moment forward. Your presence on the Fallen council is suspended until further notice."

Xander's eyes widened. "You can't,"

"I am Lead," Jonathan stated. "And your uncle. I assure you, I can. And I have." Stepping up closer to the boy, Jonathan lowered his voice. "Do not cross me. I will not have you risk everything we are working towards with your foolishness. I do not care for your reasons, nor do I care for your excuses. You will honor and obey me, or suffer expulsion."

"You wouldn't,"

"Again, I assure you, I will. If you risk the redemption of the collective, I take no issue with condemning a rogue."

Xander's breath came out in shallow gasps, barely able to contain his ire. And yet, he knew his uncle. He was a man of his word, and he would let nothing risk this final chance at ending the Fallen's banishment. Even if it meant expelling his own nephew from the Fallen, forcing him to live as human for the rest of his life.

"Am I understood?" Jonathan asked, his eyes blazing.

Unable to form words, Xander nodded, for fear that anything he spoke would condemn him further. Without another word, Jonathan turned, returning to the head of the room with long strides.

The moment he was gone, Xander exhaled a long, held breath. He was shaking with fury, his fists balling at his sides.

Looking up, he caught the familiar green eyes of Harper beyond the crowd. She was watching him intently, as though she had heard everything that had transpired. Only a second later, she turned, her eyes finding Michael at the edge of the room, only meters away.

Locating the Angel, Xanders jaw tightened, when he found the Angel watching Harper just as intently.