Chapter 4

                                    

                                              
            
                          
Rowen walked away from the doorframe. We followed with hesitant steps, the plush carpet soft under my sock covered feet. It was strange because though I had never seen this room, I felt instantly familiar with it. As if it was some half-remembered place. 
                          
"This is called the Incoming Room. Any doorway or natural arch in the mortal world can access it."
                          
Mortal. The word sounded strange in my mind. According to Rowen, Victoria and I weren't mortal. Thanks to our father, we were half angel. If Rowen could be believed. At this point, I had little reason to doubt him. If only it could have been my mother who was the angel and not my errant, absentee father, then I would probably still have her. I doubted angels died of cancer.
                          
We walked through another doorway into an even bigger room. This one was crowded with wooden cubicles and desks, with a big open area on one end. People sat behind the three wide windows spanning one wall. The crush of black-cloaked people moving through it nearly overwhelmed me. More than I could count moved past the windows, some picking things up, others dropping off. A steady stream came through a door in the windowed wall, carrying items out to the various desks. 
                          
Along another long wall, a bank of about two dozen or so elevators dinged regularly, spilling more people into the room or taking them away. The last wall held several doors that looked like they led to offices. It all reminded me of an unusually large, overly busy bank. 
                          
Rowen indicated we should follow him. Victoria glanced at me, worry plain on her face. I shrugged. What else could we do? We were here now and it wasn't exactly safe at home. 
                          
I was the first to move, my steps quiet on the plush carpet as he led us past the offices to what looked like a small conference room at the far end. A man with short, blond hair and blue eyes, and a woman with a distinctly Middle Eastern look both stood as we walked in. Neither appeared any older than Rowen.  
                          
Rowen motioned toward the two, "This is Alaric, Head of the Reapers. And Aaminah, Head of the Guardians."
                          
"Have a seat, there is much to discuss," Alaric said as he took his own advice and settled into a chair at the table. 
                          
My head was still reeling from their titles. This was actually happening. I flopped into one of the chairs, too overwhelmed to try and be graceful, though I was careful to keep my face neutral, my façade firmly in place. Things always went smoother when other people thought I was fine. Victoria, always the proper one, sat carefully in her chair, trembling hands folded in her lap. 
                          
Rowen started to pull another chair out when Alaric cleared his throat. "I do not think you need to stay. Aaminah and I can handle this. This is our job, after all, not yours."
                          
"On the contrary," Rowen sat in the chair, "this particular job belongs to me as much as it does to you, given the circumstances of the situation."
                          
"What circumstances require your presence?" Aaminah asked with her hazel eyes narrowed.
                          
Alaric flicked a warning look at Rowen before saying, "He only means their...heritage."
                          
"I am not sure what that has to do with him." Aaminah gave Rowen a disapproving look.  "However, if you are willing to allow him to sit in on this, then I will not speak against it."
                          
I couldn't help noticing the tension in the room and got the feeling the two Heads didn't care for Rowen much for some reason. The undercurrent made me wonder, but I didn't get much time to dwell on it since Alaric interrupted my musings.
                          
"You two are quite the anomaly. Rowen has told you of your heritage?"
                          
We both nodded as Aaminah picked up the thread of the conversation, "A highly volatile situation. According to all of the laws and restrictions, you two should not exist. News of Elijah's transgression swept both the Heavens and the Hells. The Heavens sensed a child of angel blood born in the mortal world some years ago. Elijah was caught trying to sneak a newborn girl into Midtween, the fool." She frowned and shook her head as if unable to fathom such an act. "Once he realized he'd been caught, he disappeared taking the child with him. We were unable to locate either of them. A year later he showed back up alone, claiming the child died. No one in the Heavens could sense a half-angel child in the mortal world anymore. He was promptly banished for his crime. Now, we discover the child didn't die, she was in the mortal world the whole time and there are now two. What to do with you has left us struggling for an answer."