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My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at the boy huddled in the corner of the shed, his luminous and electric eyes slowly closing. He didn't know I stood there, open mouthed and witless, watching him. But there I was. And if on that day my mother hadn't asked me to double check the doors on the shed so raccoons wouldn't poop in it again, I would have never discovered him. He would have just disappeared like a ghost.

I knew what he was. And he wasn't human even though he looked it.

He was a fallen angel.

The vast, feathery, ebony wings that sprouted from his bloodied, hunched back proved it all. They were massive, and wilting as if he was sad. His head was drooping, his chin resting on his bare chest. His legs were splayed out in front of him, his arms limp at his sides. He looked like an avenging rag doll.

His blue eyes finally shut, a deep breath escaping his lips, before he fell to the side, slumping against a wooden shelf, his giant, unearthly wings closing in around his body as he fell into a state of unconsciousness.

I swallowed in nervousness. Well, I couldn't exactly just leave him here for my brother to find in the morning, now could I?

. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .

I had searched around the shed, leaving the boy - the angel - in the shed. I had discovered he had dragged himself inside from the woods, an unnatural trail of golden fluid - which I presumed as his 'heavenly' blood -leading me from the edge of the foreboding woods, to the shed.

"Rachel!" I heard my brother call from the porch. "Are you ever going to come inside?"

I gazed up, holding up my hand to signal I would be inside in five minutes. Of course I knew that was an exaggeration. I could barely see the top shelf of my locker, how was I supposed to heave a six foot-something 'angel-boy' to the side of the house and down into the cellar? I needed to go to church and ask what the father what to do in a case like this. Surely there had to be an answer, right?

My brother went back inside, leaving me out in the cold, night air again. I made my way around the shed, hoisting the doors wide open, and as I walked in, I removed any rubble or items that might get in the way when I was to drag the unconscious boy outside. I picked up a rock the size of tennis ball, at the base of the boys feet, and threw it to the side. I looked up at him. If it hadn't been for his wings (which had disappeared somewhere - I think into the two ragged-fleshy holes at the bottom of his shoulder blades which were spewing golden blood like a river) then I still would've thought he was an angel.

His face looked liked it was carved out of marble. He looked liked one of those statues from Rome or Greece with pain etched into his delicate, boyish features. His cheekbones were high, his chin set perfectly, his jaw and nose were just as sharp as his dull eyes had been. Black hair, the same colour as his wings, fell slightly into his eyes - which were now open and staring at me.

"Crap!" I yelled as I fell backward, onto my butt, hitting it hard on the ground.

I gazed up at him, my dark eyes, wide, my breath coming out fast and hard. I swallowed the line of swear words I was going to use, and rubbed my palms together, getting rid of the small rocks that embedded themselves into my skin.

His eyes were emotionless, as was his face. I couldn't tell if he was curious, angry, sad or happy. He just sat there, his lips pressed closed, his eyes intently staring at me. Then, he closed them again and kept them closed for a long time. I decided he want going to open them again anytime soon. I didn't want to go close to him again but I also didn't want to leave him here.

I stood up, brushing the rubble off my butt, and edged closer to him. I squatted right in front of him, watching his face.

"Um. . .hello?" I asked as I hesitantly poked his toe with a finger. He didn't twitch or move one bit. And I didn't get zapped to death by a magical, holy force. Maybe he fell back into unconsciousness. I decided I needed to move fast because it had been long past five minutes and my mom and brother were going to come outside if I didn't go inside.

I realized he was quite naked and quickly closed my eyes. I took the purple parka I wore, and with my eyes still closed, managed to wrap it around his waist - without touching anything too 'magical' - and then opened my eyes once again. I had done a poor job, but it covered everything. . .manly, so I was fine. I sighed and edged my way over his legs and propped myself behind his body. Hesitantly, I reached out and pushed his upper body away from the wall so I could fit myself in the small space. I reached under his arms and heaved his butt off the floor, gaining a faint moan from him. I started to pull him out, accidentally bumping his legs into shelves, toolboxes and even a can of nails. His arms hit the legs of chairs and tables, soon becoming a bright pink from all the harsh impact. He groaned and I let go of his body and walked around to wrap his arms around himself. I walked behind his body and lifted him once again. His arms fell loose and onto the hard floor again.

"Ugh. . ." I groaned but continued to drag him out of the shed. I took a step back and realized I was already out. Now, all I needed to do was drag him across the yard, to the side of the house, and into the door of the cellar and down into it. "Ugh!" I groaned again as I peered into the dark of night which was illuminated dimly by the full moon. I reached under his thick, veiny arms again and heaved him up.

The travel across the yard and to the door of the cellar was sweaty, hard and longer than I thought, but finally, I layed his body down, opening the wooden doors of the cool cellar below. "Finally. . ." I muttered and debated wether just to drag him down there as well, or to try and actually take care of him and make sure no harm came to him. I stared down at his angelic - literally - face for a long moment. "Meh." I shrugged and pulled him by his ankles to get him to the edge of the first step. From there, I returned to my original position with my hands in his armpits and turn him around so I could quickly get him inside.

After heaving, tripping and accidentally stepping on his finger (when his limp hand fell onto the next step), I finally rested him on the dirty - but softer than the concrete - rug which lay underneath a little window.

I gazed down at his face once again, never getting enough of his unearthly and almost inhuman beauty. "Okay. . ." I breathed out after staring - non-blinking - at his perfectly sculpted face.

I sort of hated him.

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First chapter of new book! Hope you guys liked it! ( I know I liked writing it)

Thank you for reading! And hopefully this book will get as popular as my other book - Incubus - did! :D