Chapter 1- Defying Orders

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I let that sink in.

But no matter how hard I tried to wrap my head around it, I couldn't believe it. All demons were gone. I played a role in making sure no demon would ever have the grace of walking the earth again. This was never part of the plan.

"No." I simply said.

"No?" He questioned, arching an eyebrow. "I didn't realize I left room for objections. Let me correct myself. Come with me or I'll kill you."

I glanced over him. Watching his face for any signs of deception. The only expression I could read on his carefully guarded face was that of arrogance, and a flicker of something that was gone before I even had a chance to identify it. Interesting.

"No." I repeated, pushing my limits. If it came down to it, I could fight my own. I've accomplished much more for much less. I watched as his expressionless face morphed into that of anger at my refusal. I knew the game I was playing was a dangerous one. He slowly reached towards his back, pulling out a blade similar to that of my angel blade, only it had a dark aura to it. Like it had been tainted 

Every muscle I had was tensing up, as I slowly readied my angel blade, preparing myself in case he decided to keep good on his word. I was startled out of my reserve when I heard him release a slow, throaty laugh. I was confused. He had me. All he had to do was step forward and drive the blade into my heart, instantly killing me, the way it had been designed for. But he didn't, why? Suddenly that was the most important question in the world, because some instinct deep inside of me was screaming at me to wait – to wait and just look.

He was afraid – not of me, not even of dying. He was afraid that this – darkness – was all he would ever be. That this life was all there was. He wanted more – dammit, I could see it. I can see a light in him. A light trapped in a sea of darkness. The same darkness that followed me around after having my wings removed. That thought brought up unpleasant thoughts that I wish I could keep neatly locked up in my emotion box.

Angels were made to protect. They, themselves, we're made up of everything pure. So when one makes a decision and decides to act upon it, knowing it to be less than adequate, go through a process known as The Removal. A word that strikes fear into any angel. Shaking those thoughts off, I turn to Colton.

"You don't want to kill me. You need me."

He didn't answer, just stared at me – waiting. Waiting for me to make a move. Instead I found himself speaking again.

"There are more of you, aren't there? And you need my help. You figure the only angel to survive The Removal and be marked as un pure will be a great asset."

"I don't need your help." His black gaze was full of anger and hate in that moment. Whether it was meant for me or the idea of willingly admitting help, I wasn't sure.

"Looks to me like you don't have a choice," I find myself speaking before my brain has time to catch up with what I have to say.

"I'm here to kill you, and you're willing to kill me. Just do it. Why would you do that?"

"Because I think you're more valuable to the world alive."

I hadn't been positive that I believed that until I said it out loud. A mixture of things passed through his eyes at that  declaration. Confusion and relief- filled emotion I couldn't identify. I knew what it was like to think the world might be a better place without you, having killed so many in the name of good, but to be too much of a survivor to just go quietly. I also knew how it felt to have someone tell you it wasn't so and to wonder how they could believe that when you didn't.

God, my superiors are going to kill me. 

My neck tingled, instantly alerting me of an approaching presence. My eyes flicked to the opposite end of the alley where there stood two vengeful looking angles. With their wings flared out. Looking back to colton, we made a silent agreement.

Now or never.

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