Missjulia: Okay, so this is the second chapter of 1531. This story is my baby, I really love it and it's kind of eaten my brain. I really hope everyone enjoys!

Kayla: You know, you have been neglecting Fallout for this.

Missjulia: I know. Shut up. I don't own the Guild Hunter books. I'd also like to thank evecorbel (my grandmother and a professional editor) and WiseBrainPotterPal101 (a personal friend and a good writer, you should check her out) for betaing this chapter. THAT IS ALL. ENJOY.

1531

Chapter 1: Angel

"Are you coming in?" I said to the man standing behind me. I assumed so, but it never hurt to ask.

"Yeah," came the reply as I pulled out my keys and opened my door.

"I thought so," I said, stepping into my apartment, Illium close behind. It felt odd letting someone into this place, I had only lived there for a few months but already it was a haven, a sanctuary. I wasn't thrilled that I had to let someone into it that I didn't trust, but I let it pass.

"So." His voice rang out in the silent apartment, startling me. "How do you hide your wings? It's only now that I look more closely at you that I can tell that you're an angel."

I shook my head. "Sit down. I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?"

I flipped a light switch, illuminating my green-painted front room, a tiny space with hooks for coats, a small living area with a blue couch and other furniture and an open kitchen. A hallway led to my bedroom and my bathroom. It was small, but it was cozy and functional.

"Well," he started, "I'd like you to answer my questions but tea would be nice too."

I smiled at the mildly sarcastic statement and turned into my kitchen to put on a kettle. I then pulled out two tea bas and went to sit next to him on my couch and shifted so that I was facing him. He made a similar adjustment. We sat quietly for a moment, him looking around at my home before he remarked, "You don't own a television."

I laughed. "No. Lots of books though, and a radio in my room for the news. I don't need a TV, nor do I think it's worth it to give up the extra space in this room."

He nodded. "It is quite... commercial, isn't it, owning a TV."

"Yes."

He looked around again at the room, taking in the book shelves, the matching coffee table and end tables and the view of the setting sun out of my wide windows. "Not that this isn't nice, but why don't you live in an angel-run facility?"

"I love my home, even though I haven't been here long. And to move into one of those places I'd have to answer questions and go through other rigmarole that I'd rather avoid. Besides, I've not given allegiance to any archangel and at my age that's too risky. Who would house me?"

Illium frowned slightly, his eyebrows drawing together. His face is far more suited to smiles, I thought to myself.

"What? You haven't given a vow of allegiance? Then who do you serve?"

"Myself. I-" The shrill whistle of the kettle cut me off. I had all but forgotten about it, but rose from my seat anyways to make to tea. I could feel Illium's eyes on me as I poured water water into the two mugs I had pulled out earlier. I grabbed the mugs in one hand and a small pitcher of milk from the fridge in the other then moved back into the living room. I set down the items I was carrying on the coffee table by Illium's knees and sat back down on the couch. I was pouring milk into my tea when he spoke again.

"So." His voice was quiet as he reached for his mug and blew gently on it.

"So," I replied just as softly.

"Forget your allegiance for now, forget whether or not you're a threat. What I really want to know is how in the hell you hide your wings!"

I laughed. "It's an old skill, developed during the Dark Age by those who were spies or simply didn't wish to get involved. Every angel has the ability. It becomes unlocked after about 100 years but it does require training and some considerable pain and effort so most either don't know or don't bother."

"How does it work?" Illium asked, curious.

I smiled. "I'll just show you."

I reached for the buttons on my shirt and managed to get the first one half out of it's slot before his hands shot out and grabbed mine.

"Whoa," he said, "what are you doing?"

I gave him a look.

"I'm not that kind of girl. Relax. You need to see my back."

He nodded, still somewhat uncomfortable but it couldn't hide the look of interest in his eyes. I knew, objectively, that I was attractive. Not short but not tall, curvy with what could be called olive skin. And, of course, eyes like crushed sapphires and rich, wavy brown hair that cascaded down my back like a ribbon of milk chocolate. And I was an angel, even though I hid my wings. There was something about my race that made us all very attractive. Even other angels could not resist the charms of the most beautiful of us.

I shook myself from my thoughts and finished removing my shirt, taking note of the spark of arousal in Illium's eyes. It was to be expected, I supposed, and he was technically here on business for his "sire" so I doubted he would act on it. Ignoring it for the time being, I turned around, exposing the tattoos that covered my back and shoulders to him.

The tattoos were of angel wings. My wings, in fact, when they were folded. They were a bit smaller than my actual wings but still covered most of my back.

I sat, back exposed, for a few moments before I felt the tips of his fingers glide along what I knew to be the arch of my left wing. I shivered. It felt as though he was actually touching my wings, something I hadn't experienced in hundreds of years. I had forgotten about that side effect of the sealing.

His finger pressed a little harder as they slid down my wings and I couldn't help but let a quiet sound of contentment and pleasure escape my lips. I had forgotten how good it felt to have someone touch my wings, when it was welcome. Unfortunately Illium heard the sound and drew back.

"You can feel that?" he inquired.

I sighed, instantly missing the contact, and turned back to face him.

"Yes. It felt just like you had your hand on my actual wings."

A quite uncomfortable look crossed his face and he said, "Sorry. Um... can you... unseal... them? Your wings?"

I nodded slightly and concentrated on my wings. I felt the familiar stirring on my back, as though the tattoos were squirming around then slight pain as my wings materialized behind me.

Illium gasped and reached out to touch, but pulled his hand back as though he was a child who had been sneaking a cookie. I rolled my eyes.

"You can touch. I'm not so sensitive as most angels."

He gave me an odd look then reached out and stroked the feathers along the top of my right wing. An arc of sensation raced through me and I pressed into his hands. Yes, I thought, it's been far too long since I've had any pleasant contact from anyone, human, vampire, or angel. His hand stroked the wing several more times before pulling back and chuckling slightly at the few sparkles of grey angel dust I had accidentally left on it.

"Sorry," I murmured, embarrassed.

"No," he reassured me, "I don't mind. You didn't mean to and your wings are beautiful."

I smiled gently and shook my head. "Not really. Not like yours. Yours make me think of flight and freedom. Mine only remind me of dirt and ash. And blood."

My wings were mottled grey, brown and grey- blue, similar to a mourning dove, or a pigeon, with splashes of blood red at the tips and in a slight starburst coming out from my shoulder blades where they met my back. Like some bleeding bird had dipped it's wings in a puddle of it's own blood. I hated it.

Illium just shook his head. "No, they're unique, like Elena's. But unlike her's your hold the grace of a bird that really does know how to blend in and yet with it's own splash of fiery passion. And most vamps would say that having the colour of blood splashed on your wings is quite attractive indeed."

I sighed and shook my head. "If you say so. Do you have any more questions?"

"Yes, where the hell did you learn that, where did you come from, who are you and why does Raphael have me following you?"

I sat back on the couch, blinked several times then took another sip of tea. "This is going to take a while."

He nodded. "I'm prepared for that, I was given all night, it's only seven o'clock."

"All right then," I began. "I'll start with where I learned to hide my wings, I suppose. My mother taught me, before she... disappeared. She learned from someone, I don't know who, though she never really used it. She thought it might come in handy for me, which it did. I always wondered if she had some future sight..." I took another sip of tea then turned to meet Illium's eyes."Now this is a bit more complicated. The last three questions are somewhat tied together and I'd really rather not answer any of them. However, I will tell you my name- that should give you a clue. But not now. Now, just relax for a moment,"

Illium chuckled, sounding bemused. "You would relax around a known spy? I stalked you home."

I looked down at my tea, upset to find it empty then looked back to his striking golden eyes. "I let you in. Does it matter?"

"No." Then he began to laugh. I watched him for a few minutes, just watched the smile on his face and the light in his eyes and listened to the joyful sound of his laughter, unable to keep a smile off of my face. Once he had calmed some I asked, "What was that about?"

"Ah," he said, suddenly bashful. "Just our situation. I was sent by my boss to spy on you, a woman I know very little about, and you refuse to tell me anything, and here we are, sitting in your living room drinking tea like old friends."

I thought about it for a moment then laughed for a moment myself. "Ah, but you haven't drunk more than a sip of your tea."

We laughed again. "It is kind of odd, isn't it?" I said.

He nodded and we lapsed into comfortable silence. We drank our cold tea and watched each other or the surroundings for a good long while before he spoke up. "What time is it?"

I looked at the watch on my wrist and said, "It's almost eight, why?"

He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood. "I shouldn't linger any longer than I have to. I should really get back to Raphael."

I nodded. "To report? Okay. Will I see you again?" I asked, even knowing the answer was probably yes.

He rose and stepped toward the door, shuffling his wings slightly. He must be flying back to the Tower, I thought.

"Likely," he said as he stepped outside. "But first, please, tell me your name. I need something to take back and it's just not fair that you know mine but I don't know yours!"

I looked up, met his eyes for what I knew would be the last time that evening, and spoke.

"Gabriel. My name is Gabriel."

His eyes widened and he blinked like an owl. "You... Isn't that the name of..."

"Yes."

"So that's why-"

"Yes. He suspected me. And he believes that I know -have always known- where she is."

"And so you...?"

"... Yes."

"I-... I..."

"Just go. I'll probably see you in the morning." And with that final comment I closed the door.

Standing inside, I stood still for a moment, listening to Illium swear in several different languages then bolt down the hall toward the exit. I went to the window and watched as he ran out into the street and, ignoring any evening passersby, execute an impressive vertical takeoff and sharp turn toward of Archangel Tower. Illium was fast, I observed. He was a credit to his mother.

I sighed and turned away from the window, suddenly hyperaware of my state of undress. I'd never put my shirt back on.

My mind was buzzing as I walked distractedly into my bedroom and changed into a large shirt and a pair of loose sweat pants for sleeping in. Illium was the first angel I'd spoken to in years... other than her. But she hardly counted. The evening with Illium had been a pleasant experience, one I hoped would be repeated without too much red tape to walk through first. I wasn't unknown any longer.

As I slipped into bed I knew that the dominant colours in my dreams that night would be blue and gold. And, I thought to myself as I drifted off to an early night's sleep, I really don't mind.

Missjulia: YES. So, I hope you liked it, REVIEWS PLEASE. Flames will be used to kill errant vamps. (2, 723 words without A/Ns)