Angelfall (Penryn & the End of Days #1)(57)
People stared and skirted around these kids the way humans behave around this albino. Whenever a particularly bad incident happened to any member of her flock, Paige gathered them together for a theme party. A pirate party, a zombie party, a come-as-you-are party where one kid showed up in pajamas with a toothbrush in his mouth.
They’d joke and giggle and know in their bones that they were strong together. Paige was their cheerleader, counselor, and best friend all rolled into one.
It’s clear that the albino needs someone like Paige in his life. He shows the familiar subtle signs of someone who is supremely conscious of being stared at and judged by his appearance. His arms and shoulders stay close to his body, his head is angled slightly down, his eyes rarely look up. He stands to the side of the group in a spot where the light is dimmer, where it’s more likely the curious stares might mistake his eyes for dark brown rather than blood red.
I’m guessing that if there’s one thing that might pique an angel’s prejudice, it’s someone who looks like he should be surrounded by hellfire.
Despite his posture and subtle vulnerability, he is unmistakably a warrior. Everything about him is imposing, from his broad shoulders to his exceptional height to his bulging muscles and enormous wings. Just like the angels in the booth. Just like Raffe.
Every member of this group looks like he was made for fighting and conquering. They enhance this impression with every confident motion, every commanding sentence, every inch of space they take. I never would have noticed the albino being just a tad uncomfortable if I wasn’t already in tune with that kind of discomfort.
As soon as I step into the human-free zone around the albino, he looks my way. I look at him straight in the eyes like I would anyone else. Once I get past the shock of looking into a pair of alien eyes, I see assessment and subdued curiosity. I weave a little as I smile brightly up at him.
“What lovely lashes you have,” I say, slurring my words a little. I try not to overdo it.
He blinks his surprise with those ivory lashes. I walk over, tripping just enough to slop some of my drink on his pristine white suit.
“Ohmygod! I am so, so sorry! I can’t believe I just did that!” I grab a napkin off the table and smear the stain around a little. “Here, let me help you clean.”
I’m glad to see my hands are not trembling. I’m not oblivious to the dangerous vibe. These angels have killed more humans than any war in history. And here I am, splashing one of them with a drink. Not the most original ploy, but it’s the best I can do on the spur of the moment.
“I’m sure it’ll come right out.” I’m babbling like the tipsy girl I’m supposed to be. The area around the booth has gone quiet and everyone watches us.
I hadn’t planned on that. If he was uncomfortable being watched surreptitiously, he probably hates being the center of attention in a stupid scenario like this.
He grabs my wrist and pulls it away from his suit. His grip is firm but not enough to cause pain. There’s no doubt that he could snap my wrist at the slightest whim.
“I’ll just go and deal with this.” Irritation edges his voice. Irritation is okay. That, I can handle. I decide he must be an okay guy, if you can ignore that he’s part of the team that brought fire and brimstone to earth.
He walks smoothly toward the bathroom, ignoring the stares from angel and human alike. I follow him quietly. I consider keeping up the drunken chick act but think better of it unless someone distracts him from going to the bathroom.
No one stops him, not even to say hello. I do a quick check for Raffe but don’t see him anywhere. I hope he isn’t counting on me keeping the albino in there until he feels like making an appearance.
As soon as the albino pushes his way into the bathroom, Raffe appears out of the shadows with a red cone and a fold-out maintenance sign that says “Temporarily out of order.” He drops the cone and sign in front of the bathroom door and slips in after the albino.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Should I stay out here and be a lookout? If I completely trusted Raffe, that’s exactly what I’d do.
I push my way into the men’s bathroom. I pass three guys who are rushing out. One of them is hastily zipping his pants. They’re human and probably won’t be questioning why an angel is kicking them out of the bathroom.
Raffe stands by the door, staring at the albino who stares back through the mirror above the sink. The albino looks cautious and wary.
“Hello, Josiah,” says Raffe.
Josiah’s bloody eyes narrow, staring hard at Raffe.
Then, the eyes widen in shock and recognition.
He spins to face Raffe. Disbelief wars with confusion, joy and alarm. I had no idea a person could feel all those things simultaneously, much less show them on his face.
He marshals his expression back to cool and in control. It looks like it takes some effort.
“Do I know you?” asks Josiah.
“It’s me, Josiah,” says Raffe, taking a step closer to him.
Josiah backs away along the marble counter. “No.” He shakes his head, his red eyes large and full of recognition. “I don’t think I know you.”
Raffe looks puzzled. “What’s going on, Josiah? I know it’s been a long time—.”
“A long time?” Josiah breathes an uncomfortable laugh, still inching back as though Raffe had the plague. “Yeah, you could say that.” He stretches his lips in a strained smile, white on white. “A long time, that’s funny. Yeah.”