Prologue

Her hands were in tiny fists, as if she would face off against an enemy at any given moment. She was always alert, even in her sleeping state. Short strands of orange hair fell across her face in an array of what looked like flames licking her pale skin. She was bony, but not small, and in her curled position, laying on the wide top step leading to the abandoned St. Gabriel’s Church on the outskirts of New York, she looked to be about five-seven in height. 

Lucas and Gabriel, both Greater Angels, kneeled over her body, both in varying shades of curiosity and confusion. They’d never seen this girl before, and it was not every morning that they found someone sleeping outside what served as their home. Lucas reached out to touch her, but Gabriel grabbed his hand. 

"Don’t touch her. You could wake her and the she may be hostile." He said seriously, taking his cellphone out of his pocket, "We should consult with Michael before-"

"Gabe," Lucas said, "We can handle ourselves, and we don’t need to bother Michael. It’s earlier over in San Francisco and I’m sure he’s still sleeping." He reached his hand out to shake her.

She jolted awake, leaning upwards a little, exposing eyes of almost a honey color. She looked at the two men’s faces, and found both of them to be very handsome and very muscular, so self defense was moot. She felt strange, however. But somehow, waking up on concrete steps, up a hill and away from the city on a secluded property, felt like it was the least of her problems. 

The shorter one, with thick-rimmed black glasses and tousled black hair, spoke first, “Do you know where you’re at?”

Tegan did not know how to respond at first, and rather gaped at him. The other man, with more prominent facial structure and looked like he should have a cigarette in his mouth at all times, leaned forward. 

"We’ve got ways of making you talk." He hissed through his teeth. "How’d you get through the gate?"

Tegan looked over her shoulder, and about 500 meters away was a tall fence, that no human would ever get over without getting injured. Ivy swirled around the wrought iron bars, as it looked nearly as old as time. She looked back to the man. “I don’t remember.” She admitted feebly. 

The other man stood up and began talking into a phone. “Michael, I’m sorry to wake you… I understand… Michael, if you would just-” He ran his hand over his face in frustration. “Michael. An angel just showed up at my church. And she… she’s defective, to put it simply.”