“Sure,” he concedes.
Together, we lie on the bed and find a comfortable position where skin touches skin.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too,” he says.
“Promise me you’ll tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If I trigger you?”
“Of course. Can you promise me that, too?”
“I promise,” I say.
It’s a Wednesday in mid-October and the sun is peeking over pine-infested knolls. Main Street is alive with early goers beginning their days and the scent of freshly baked bread wafts, then lingers in my nose. I walk in the middle of the road, devoid of any car or vehicle, taking in the sites and the historic brick buildings. The Angelics have a nice setup. Perhaps I was rather harsh and overprotective these past days, but one can never be too careful, considering what we’d gone through to get here.
I pass the pavilion, finding a red brick-and-mortar building with rows of windows and white framing. Matt and Ambrosia wait out front with a man I’ve yet to meet. He’s all broad, toothy smiles as I approach, suddenly putting me back on the defensive. Regardless, I switch the apprehension to a mask resembling something cheerful as if I’m grateful for the chance to be offered a position that shouldn’t have been withheld from me on the basis of prejudice in the first place.
Has anyone without special abilities fought for the chance to be a part of the Angelic Guard? I can’t be the only one.
“Conin, meet Brett Rosenbaum. He’s head councilman of Proctus,” says Ambrosia in place of a greeting.
“Conin Bresshet, so nice to meet you,” Brett says, all white teeth as he extends a hand for me to shake.
I reach out, hoping he doesn’t see my timidness. If he does, Brett says nothing at all.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Do you mind if I tag along while Ambrosia and Matt here give you a tour?” he asks.
Why?
I thought we were going to talk.
“Sure,” I say. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Wonderful. Shall we?”
The four of us enter what was once Dunsmuir’s police station, now converted into headquarters for the Angelic Guard. We’re greeted by a receptionist behind plexiglass and a hallway with checkered linoleum flooring. Ahead is a four-way intersection with a hallway cutting through that leads to rows of other rooms and temporary holding cells, but we proceed forward, where a staircase leads to the basement.
They store their armor, weapons, and whatever else is needed to protect the walls in the basement. Proctus’s walls are indeed impressive. They span the entirety of the safe haven’s borders, consisting of metal and steel structuring.
The walls aren’t a dead giveaway, as opposed to my earlier belief. A protective magical barrier encompasses Proctus like a half-globe. It was conjured by Benji, one of the Angelic’s own, years ago. It masks Proctus under its spell, projecting fields of barren wasteland and crumpled buildings behind a barbed wire fence that tells any curious onlookers not to trespass. I’ve heard of close encounters in the past, but the Angelics have generally been able to handle the problems.
There are locker rooms where they house their armor and personalized weaponry. We proceed to the armory, with industrial shelves stacked with guns, ammunition, and other medieval weapons. I’m not sure why they have them, nor do I ask, but no one explains, as if the sight of them is normal.
Some presumably more dangerous, high-tech weapons are locked up behind cages. Several safes are off to the side, onestacked over the other. Ambrosia tells me that only Angelics with special clearance can access these weapons. I nod because this is normal. This is what I signed up for. There’s no reason to give them an excuse to strip me of this position before I’ve even had the chance to start.
“Alright, well that concludes your tour!” Matt says enthusiastically. “We’ll give you the rest of the day off but come here again tomorrow so we can go over your shifts and begin your training.”
“You’ll be training with me,” Ambrosia says.
“Okay.” She’s reclusive and closed off. It’ll be interesting training with her.
“Conin,” Brett whispers, “can you and I chat for a second?”
He pulls me aside to a vacant room down the way. He shuts the door behind him and folds his arms, a smile still spread wide across his face.
“Was that too overwhelming?”
