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“He said something about my hair.” I shuddered, remembering the sound of his voice. “Can he see us?”

“No, but the hellhounds saw you this morning and he works closely with them. They’re his eyes and ears. He’s messing with your head.”

“I thought he was in Hell. How did he call—?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “He could have intercepted an incoming call.”

“Can he do that?” I asked. A terrified, crazed animal paced in my chest. I wanted to run as far and as fast as my legs would take me, but they’d turned to liquid beneath me.

Noticing my reaction, he backed me into a locker so I could lean against it. I pressed my fingers into the metal behind me until they hurt.

“You mustn’t be afraid,” he said. “He won’t get anywhere near you. I won’t let him.” The halls now empty, we were alone. In the background, I could hear Ms. Nelson starting the class, but Michael stood so close I didn’t care about being late. He let out his breath slowly. “I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

“You didn’t,” I said.

“Oh, but I did.” He slid his hands to the sides of my head, stroking my hair. It was meant to be comforting, but my spine melted from his touch. Leaning his forehead into mine, he whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Chapter Eighteen

The next few days were almost normal.

At school, I marveled at how Michael passed for perfectly human. Nobody else could see the intermittent flashing of his halo or the vague outline of his wings. The fact that I knew what he really looked like was an intimate secret between us, almost like seeing him naked would be. Okay, nowhere near as good as that. But I was beginning to enjoy it.

Elaine published an article on her blog saying I broke Damiel’s heart and rejected him for Michael and that’s what made him go away. The article upset me a lot more than it did Michael, who just ignored it, but he wasn’t the one being called the next whore of Babylon—something I had to look up the meaning of online. The girls who liked Damiel gave me dirty looks in the hallway. It made me almost wish Damiel would come back, as long as he left me alone.

At night, Michael watched out for me, but kept his distance like I was some kind of VIP and he was my angelic security service. Though they’d cleaned up the hellhound problem, something was worrying him. Something he didn’t want me to know.

Fiona came back to school on Wednesday, and Heather and I stayed close. We wanted things to be as normal as possible and she didn’t need people gossiping or staring at her. At least Elaine didn’t print anything in the school paper, which, for Elaine, was actually decent.

I was on my way to lunch with Michael when I noticed Fiona alone at her locker fumbling with her books. She dropped one, and as soon as she went to pick it up another one fell. She didn’t seem depressed this time, but a few people were chuckling at her while they gossiped amongst themselves. I could tell it made her uncomfortable.

“We should go talk to her,” I said to him. “Take her to lunch.”

“Wait a sec,” he said. When I gave him a questioning look, he added, “You’ll see.”

“Are you going to wave a magic wand or something and make it all better?”

He whispered in my ear, “I’m an angel, not a fairy godmother.” The heat of his breath traveled all the way down my neck, and I had to fight the urge to press myself against him.

Arielle appeared in the hallway. At first I thought she might say something to us, but other than giving Michael a nod, she walked right past. “Hey,” I said, lifting my hand to wave at her.

Michael caught my hand. “Shhh,” he said, his voice barely a whisper in the noisy hallway. “Don’t draw attention to her; she’s working. It’s going to help.”

“We’re the only ones who can see her right now?” I felt utterly foolish. Of course she was working. She doesn’t go to school.

If anybody else had seen me, they’d already moved on. Arielle approached Fiona and touched her arm. Fiona didn’t seem to notice, but this was how it worked. Arielle would whisper words of kindness, unseen, and Fiona would start feeling better. She’d already brightened. A smile crossed her lips.

Michael squeezed my hand and led me down the hall to the cafeteria. It was amazing how much it meant to me, this simple touch, showing that he cared.

We arrived at Heather and Jesse’s table and he let my hand go. If they saw us holding hands, they didn’t say anything. Michael and I acted like friends but they must have noticed the way I behaved around him, the way my breath would catch whenever our eyes met, or the way my skin would burn if he stood or sat too close.

“May I join you?” It was Farouk. He had a girl with him. Her dark brown eyes were so intense they seemed to look right through me.

“Is this Fatima?” I asked.

“Hello, Mia,” she said. Although Farouk hadn’t mentioned it, she was a junior, the same year as him—which meant they must be twins. Her accent was less pronounced than her brother’s, but she had the same curly black hair—only hers was long and wild, giving her an exotic beauty.

“Your hair is gorgeous,” I said.

“Thanks.” She tugged at one of her curls, examining it. “It needs a trim.”

“I’m glad to have a chance to finally thank you for the necklace,” I said.

“You’re most welcome.” She grinned at me, then leaned forward to ask, “Did it help?”

I recalled having Damiel at my door, the hellhounds around my house, and the way the necklace had vibrated each time, some kind of warning. It must have been letting me know when I was in danger. “Yes, it did.”

“You might not need it so much now.” She glanced knowingly at Michael, who was chatting with Jesse. “But you never know.”

Could she see Michael, too? The way I did? I didn’t know how to ask without giving away his secret, so I kept quiet, almost awkwardly so, and looked out the window at the rain that wasn’t letting up.

Fatima and Farouk finished lunch early because they had to study for a biology exam. They left as the topic changed to our weekend plans.

“Hey, this weekend Kevin Foster’s parents are out of town and he’s throwing a big party,” Jesse said.

“How big?” Heather asked.

“Everyone’s invited. He’s got a huge place,” he said, looking at all of us. “You guys should come.”

I was eating a chicken salad that seemed oilier than usual. It slid down my throat and sat in my stomach like a lump.

“Who’s Kevin Foster?” I asked, not sure I wanted to go to a stranger’s party.

“He’s in his junior year at Sealth,” Jesse answered, then turned to Michael. “You remember his brother Dave? His parties?”

“Yes,” Michael said, gazing out over the cafeteria, absently keeping watch.

“Dude, you should come. It’ll be awesome.”

“Don’t think so.”

“Chloe will be disappointed.” Jesse gave him a suggestive smile.

Michael shot Jesse a look that silenced him. Jesse’s gaze darted quickly in my direction and then fixed on the table in front of him.

Who was Chloe?

Michael shifted in his seat and squeezed a packet of ketchup onto his plate. He had hardly touched his burger. I was going to ask right then and there who Chloe was, since everyone at the table seemed to know something about her. But Fiona and Dean joined us, holding hands, and Heather took the opportunity to break the awkward silence by chatting with them. Michael excused himself quietly and left.

For the rest of lunch, I listened to Heather and Jesse chat about the upcoming party with Fiona and Dean. I felt more out of place than ever. While Heather managed to look mystified—she didn’t know anything about Chloe—Jesse ignored me. It was as though the space I occupied no longer existed. As soon as lunch was over, he took off.