Posted in Writing

Sneak Peak into a Novel-In-Progress

She had overestimated him. A different approach was needed. One with childlike simplicity.

“Fine then,” Flipping her long braid over a shoulder, she turned her back and walked away, “I didn’t want to share the cookies anyways. And now I don’t have to.”

She made it to the end of the block before she heard the crowd scream and felt the earth shake.

Smiling in satisfaction at a job well done, she kept walking. As if she hadn’t heard or felt anything.

She knew he was behind her, but to acknowledge him now would mean he’d won. And if he thought he’d won he’d try something else later.

The same tricks only worked so many times with him before he caught on. Which was why she kept the childish tricks for special circumstances.

And really, you couldn’t get more special circumstance than destroying a government officials’ car by slamming it into the ground Hulk-style until it was nothing but unrecognizable twisted metal.

As if that hadn’t been enough, he had then decided to take to the rooftops when the Police arrived and had made his way to City Hall. There he had made himself comfortable on the top of the building and had proceeded to throw spheres of undiluted power at anyone who came close.

No one had been able to leave or enter the building for five hours before she had arrived and spent three more hours trying to get him down.

Of course, by then half the city had decided to show up to watch the show live even though she had told the authorities that having that many people around was a very bad idea.

A large shadow fell over her and a pair of strong arms wrapped around her torso followed closely by beautiful downy wings.

It felt like being hugged by a cloud. One that had arms and smelled of a hot-dog-with-everything-on-it currently, but a cloud nonetheless.

“What? You think that just because you came down now you get cookies?”

He harrumphed against her neck then whined in his throat, pulling her closer.

“No way mister. You aren’t getting out of this that easily.” She crossed her arms over her chest as best as she could with him glommed onto her. “This time you have to actually apologize to me.”

There was a growl at her words, but when she didn’t relax her stance or posture at all he relaxed his and twisted so that he could look her in the eye without letting go altogether.

He had fathomless lavender eyes. The kind that were so unreal that you couldn’t reproduce the color no matter how hard you tried. And people had been trying for generations ever since the Angel of Death had appeared on earth with no memory of who he was.

A woman could get lost in those eyes.

Unless your name happened to be Chissa and you had been dealing with that same puppy-dog eyed look since you were little.

“Not happening boyo. A real apology this time or cookies ain’t happening.”

She waited him out. It was the only thing she could do considering that he had to learn that when she was in class was NOT the time to be doing stuff like this.

Grumbling, he finally gave in and signed an apology to her.

She sniffed, “That’s what I thought.” Patting him on an arm she said, “Alright then, class is over already so we may as well go home. Maybe I’ll make spaghetti…” her words trailed off as she considered what to make for supper that night.

He sighed heavily and banged his head against her shoulder gently. Having gotten her attention again he pointed to the right insistently. When she merely cocked an eyebrow at him he let his lower lip tremble ever so slightly before slumping his shoulders in defeat and walking past her towards home. His wings dragging just the barest bit on the ground behind him.

She would never see the triumphant grin that slid across his face when she groaned before jogging to his side and pulling him along behind her to the library.

Thankfully, the librarians knew them and had some food handy so he could eat and not get testy with other patrons.

They spent a couple of hours inside browsing and picking books to read for the next month. When he was finally satisfied, they left, arms overflowing, and made their way home.

The Angel of Death and a college girl. Now that would make a great story!

©2016, Illeana Nexry.

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