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THE GUARD IN FRONT of Archangel Tower is probably the tallest, most intimidating person I've ever encountered. My gangly arms look like twigs next to his, and his fingers are curled around an electrified trident. His eyes narrow with mistrust when I hand over the slip of paper that's supposed to get me into the tower.
“What's this?” he asks. “Is this some kind of forgery? Your name isn't on the list.”
“I would never forge anything in my life, sir,” I tell him—and it's the truth. I've never broken any law, even a minor one. I've never cheated on a test or lied to an authority. I try to be a good, honest person. I don't even like to take too many ketchup packets at fast food restaurants because I feel like I'm taking more than my fair share.
“This is the first I've heard about this. Master Jophiel is your instructor? What rubbish.” He opens Archangel Tower's gate, which is wrapped in red roses. “I'll need to check with someone about this. Wait here.”
“Okay.” I give him a smile, but the gesture isn't returned. In fact, he's glaring at me. According to Amber, having an Archangel as my instructor will be an advantage, but right now, it doesn't feel like an advantage. It kind of feels like a hassle.
While I'm waiting for the guard to return, I try to see the top of Archangel Tower's twisting spire. The tower is gold, wrapped in light, and it pierces through several layers of clouds. It's pretty impressive, not unlike the gaggle of fangirls that have assembled near the tower's gate. I think they're here for Archangel Michael.
Gaggle. I like that word. I think I'm going to use it more often.
After a few minutes, the guard returns with a favorable report. “Archangel Gabriel says you're allowed to enter.” Under his breath, he adds, “Dunno why, though...”
The guard orders me to stay close. Apparently, I'm allowed to enter, but I'm not allowed to wander on my own. Together, we march down crystal corridors and opalescent staircases. The hallways are pretty empty, but we do encounter one person, and it's the prettiest woman I've ever seen. Velvety brown waves frame her heart-shaped face, and her eyes are the most stunning shade of blue. She's gorgeous.
The woman halts in our path, forcing us to stop. “Who's this?” she asks.
I think I've been silenced by her beauty. I'm a shy guy, but I've never had a reaction like this. My tongue's turned into a useless lump in the bottom of my mouth.
I can't speak, so the guard says, “He's no one important.”
“Well, No One Important, I'm Archangel Haniel,” she introduces herself. “Enjoy your time in Archangel Tower.”
She's an angel. A literal angel. I'm not surprised. I don't feel worthy to look at her, let alone, speak to her. When we start walking again, my jaw is hanging open.
“We're almost there,” the guard informs me. “I'm taking you directly to Archangel Jophiel's office.”
“Alright.” I glance over my shoulder, trying to steal another glimpse of Haniel before she's gone. I catch a flash of her brown locks before she descends the stairs. “She's an angel... and angels have wings, right? Why don't they ever have them out?”
“Actually, she's an Archangel. Big difference,” the guard corrects me. “And if you want an answer to that question, you might as well ask me. I'm an angel.”
I almost choke on my tongue. There's nothing remotely angelic about this brusque, beastly man. “You are?”
“I am,” he insists. “And we don't have our wings out because they're damned annoying.”
“Oh...” His answer is oddly disappointing. “I think it'd be nice to have wings, though.”
After a long hike down a half-dozen hallways, we finally reach Jophiel's office. The guard taps on the door, sneers at me, and leaves without saying goodbye.
A few seconds later, an accented voice cries out, “Who is it?”
“It's, uh... Chris,” I reply. “Chris Pho. I think I'm supposed to be your new student?”
I hear a raspy, exasperated sigh on the other side of the door. I guess he isn't too happy to meet me.
“Come in, Chris Pho,” my instructor replies—and the door opens before my hand makes contact with the knob. Apparently, there are magical doors in Archangel Tower. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
I readjust my glasses before I enter the room. I probably don't need them anymore, but I feel naked without them, so I'll just keep wearing them. I'm not the only one who still wears glasses. Amber does too—sometimes.
There's only one guy in the room, so I assume he's Archangel Jophiel. His hair is blonde, really blonde, and his blue eyes narrow when he sees me. He's got the physique I always wish I had. Standing next to him, I'm sure I'll look like a shapeless twig.
“So... you're Chris Pho,” Jophiel states the obvious. “When I read the name Chris, I'd hoped you'd be a girl. I should have known they would pair me up with a male... or someone old. I assume this is part of my punishment.”
My mind sticks on the most interesting word in his sentence. “Uh... punishment?”
“Oh, yes. I'm being punished,” Jophiel says. “I don't want to be an instructor, I never wanted to be an instructor, and the fact that you're standing in my office, expecting me to teach you, makes me want to rage. Is that honest enough for you?”
“I guess so.” I take a few baby steps into the office. I feel like I'm waddling. “So... why are you being punished?”
“I don't know.” A moment later, he changes his mind. “Actually, I'm lying. I do know. But there's no point in telling you about it.”
There's a slight creak when Jophiel rises from his chair, and I almost chuckle when I hear it. Apparently, even an angel's furniture can be rickety.
“Well... let's get to it, then. There's no sense in wasting time.” Jophiel crosses the room and grabs one of my wrists.
“You don't want to know more about me?” I ask.
“No. I'm sure I'll learn all about you as we're forced to work together. Let's go.”
All of a sudden, we're soaring through the cosmos. We're wrapped in a ball of fire, hurtling through space. I think we must be traveling at the speed of light, because everything around me is a blur. I want to scream, but nothing comes out of my mouth, not even a whimper.
The experience is terrifying, but it doesn't last long. Before I know it, we're standing in some guy's living room. He looks like an ordinary guy, thirty-something, with dark brown hair. He's sprawled across his couch, looking at something on his phone.
“You look pale,” Jophiel notes. “I assume you're new to warping?”
“Is that what that was?” It takes me a moment to realize I lost my glasses while we were spiraling through space. Before I can comment on it, Jophiel manifests a new pair and tosses them to me.
“Yes. But it couldn't have been your first time. Whoever took you Home must have warped with you.” Jophiel turns on his LightTab and swipes a few screens. “First, let's determine what our mission is. Do you have your quartz crystal?”
“Uh... no. I don't think I ever got one.”
Jophiel shoves a shiny rock in my hand and points at the guy on the couch. “This is our charge. His name is Garrett Coyle. He's a thirty-one-year-old security guard living in St. Louis... not that his location matters much. As his spirit guides, it is our job to figure out what he wants, and no matter what his desire may be, we're supposed to make it happen. I'm an Archangel, so I'm a telepath, but you have no such skill. If you concentrate, the quartz crystal will let you hear his thoughts. You'll be able to find out what he wants.”
“It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he wants, though,” I say, pointing at Garrett's phone. “He's on Swipr.”
Jophiel's expression sours at my remark. “And what exactly is... Swipr?”
“It's an app for dating,” I explain. “It lets you scroll through a bunch of profiles and pick people you want to meet... and if they pick you too, you're a match. I've never used it, but I think that's the basic gist.”
“Very well. That means he's looking for love.”
“Or a hook up,” I add. “He might just be looking for a fling.”
“I would rather think he's looking for love,” Jophiel says. “Everyone thinks I'm an awful cad, but I'm a romantic at heart. Anyway... either way, you should try to read his thoughts. Hold the crystal in your palm, close your eyes, clear your mind, and concentrate. Imagine your mind flowing into his.”
I'm not sure what that last sentence means, but I give it a shot. I squeeze the crystal in my hand and try to hear Garrett's thoughts. Unfortunately, Jophiel isn't making it easy to concentrate. He keeps talking.
“Love is one of the most common wishes,” he says. “Love, money, jobs... they're the most asked-for things. It gets a bit tedious, if you ask me. For once, I'd like someone to ask for something truly scandalous.”
I can't hear Garrett's thoughts. I can't hear anything but Jophiel's squawking. I feel like he's sabotaging my attempt.
“What would be scandalous, in your opinion?” I ask.
“Once, I had to help a young lady break up the marriage of her best friend and brother,” Jophiel says. “That was fascinating. And, of course, you must help them. It's required. You're not supposed to choose one human over another. Even if they need help committing a crime, you're supposed to do it... although some spirits don't. Personally, I help everyone. It's the human's mistake to make, not mine. And they need to learn from it.”
I give up. He won't stop talking. With a roll of my eyes, I tell him, “I don't think the crystal is working.”
“Oh, it works. It's your inability to focus that's the problem.”
I grumble at his criticism. “Maybe I couldn't focus because my instructor wouldn't stop talking?”
“Perhaps. But if you were good at it, I would have no effect on your focus.”
Raising my voice, I reply, “This is the first time I've done this! How do you expect me to be good at it?”
I think my outburst shocked him into silence, because for a moment, he's quiet. When he finally speaks again, his voice is haughty.
“I'll save you the trouble of another attempt. You were right, Christopher. Garrett is, in fact, looking for a fling.”
“My name's not Christopher,” I mumble. “Just Chris.”
Jophiel ignores me and says, “However, flings are a bit... unfulfilling. No one knows that better than me. I think we should try to find him a girlfriend instead. Are you in?”