CHAPTER 22

If Monica did not exactly sleep peacefully after they returned to the house, Andrew was at least happy that she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a sort of restless slumber. She hadn’t allowed him to move even as far away as the chair, and so he lay on the bed propped against the pillows, her small form curled next to him, arm stretched across his chest and head tucked against his shoulder.

He kept his eyes alternating between the window, where the rising sun was just becoming visible over the treetops, and the door, where he expected Paul to be knocking at any time. The house had only settled down a few hours earlier, but he had a feeling that even without the angelic ability to go without sleep, Paul would soon be waking and anxious to check on Monica.

As another ray of sun pushed its way into the room, Andrew tried to gently pull away from the angel lying beside him, but she seemed to sense his movement, and clutched his shirt tighter. He had tried to leave several times in the past few minutes, and each time he had met with the same resistance. He was loathe to wake her. Even if it was a troubled sleep, it was still sleep, and he knew that in her human form she needed all of the rest she could get. However, he knew he couldn’t stay much longer without the real threat of being discovered. Glancing again at the door, he wondered how much longer they would be able to keep their secret from Paul.

He turned back to the little angel and tenderly brushed a bit of hair away from her face, noting her overly pale skin and the dark shadows beneath her eyes. He had never seen her so exhausted and it both frightened and enraged him. Lying awake next to her, he had been given ample opportunity to dwell on everything that had happened over the course of the assignment, and with each bad memory his anger at McArthur had grown.

“Please, Father,” he prayed in a whisper, “if it be your will, let him be caught before he comes here again… don’t let me be the one to catch him.”

Even that very quiet sound had been enough to bring Monica from her light sleep, but she kept her eyes closed when she heard the tone in her best friend’s voice. She had gone through times when she had been completely aggravated and frustrated with the humans she tried so hard to help, and at first that was what she thought she was sensing from Andrew. Then she heard his last words and she knew that those feelings didn’t begin to touch the dark anger she could feel coming from his heart. She squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter; hating the fact that he was feeling that way, and unable to ignore the fact that in her mind she was at least partially responsible.

She moved slightly, just enough to let him know that she was waking, and felt his hand stroke the side of her face. “Good morning,” she said as she opened her eyes, though she wasn’t sure what could possibly be good about it other than the fact that at least it was no longer dark.

“You should keep sleeping,” he whispered. “It’s still early.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Paul will be waking up and you need to leave,” she told him.

“But you can still sleep, Monica,” he insisted.

Her sad eyes left his face and he knew what she was about to say. “Not without you here… I know I shouldn’t be so afraid after what you showed me…”

“Shhh… God didn’t show you that expecting you to suddenly feel better about everything. It was something to make you remember and believe that things will work out according to His plan. He doesn’t need you to hide your fear or anything else.”

She sighed and looked into his caring eyes. “I know… but I still wish that I could be stronger right now.”

“Don’t worry so much about the way you think you should be… the way you are is perfect.”

One corner of her mouth curled up for a moment and she reached up to smooth back an errant lock of his blond hair. “Thank you, Andrew.” She looked at the door, sure that she could hear footsteps nearby. “You’d better go now. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Truthfully, Andrew hated leaving her even for a moment when she still seemed so vulnerable, but she was right. Those footsteps had to be Paul’s, and he was bound to check in on her. He stood up and walked to the kittens’ basket, where Sam and his brothers and sisters lay sleeping. He gently picked up the largest kitten and carried him back over to Monica.

“He can keep you company for a few minutes,” he said with a kind smile, and then he was gone, and she was left clutching the small animal and kissing his tiny nose.

She drew in a deep breath, hating the feeling of panic that immediately began to consume her upon Andrew’s absence. She had no desire to be alone and keeping the kitten in her arms, she got up from the bed, running a shaky hand through her tousled hair. She had slept the little that she had in yesterday’s clothes, so she saw no need to spend another second alone.

Opening the door, she immediately came face to face with Paul and looking at him, she knew he hadn’t gotten any sleep either and there was still anger set in his usually kind face, much like the anger she had seen reflected in Andrew’s eyes only moments ago. It further troubled her to see it in the agent as well.

Paul’s eyes searched hers, clearly seeing her fatigue and hating it. Though he had known that sleep would probably be restless, he had at least been hoping she might catch a few hours, but he immediately knew that had not happened for her. Her eyes alone held a glassy glaze and the only other vivid emotion contained in the was raw fear and it broke his heart.

“Monica, you look like you could stand to turn right back around and get some sleep,” He stated gently, hoping he could convince her.

“I’m okay,” She replied wearily, managing a small smile, “I just need a shower and a change of clothes and I’ll be fine,” She rubbed her eyes with her fingers, trying to make herself feel more alert, but she was failing miserably.

“Let me get your things out of the other room, honey,” Paul offered, not wanting to run the risk of her setting foot back in that room until the investigation was finished and fresh paint had been applied to the walls.

Monica watched as he opened the door to what had once been her room, knowing it would take him forever to find where she had placed things. Summoning all her courage, she took a step towards the door, only to be stopped by a gentle hand from behind.

“I’ll help him, angel,” Andrew stated gently, yet firmly, seeing the relief that flooded her eyes, “Just tell me where you put things.”

“The dresser in the far corner and the closet,” She relayed softly, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes, “I’ll need the kittens’ things as well.”

“Consider it done,” Andrew smiled at her, trying to console her with that when all he wanted to do was to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go again.

She nodded her head, wiping at her eyes and knowing her exhaustion was making her emotions go haywire, “I’ll go and make coffee. I have a feeling we could all use a cup.”

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, he went to join Paul, making certain to close the door firmly behind him.

Deactivating the security code first, the angel headed downstairs, her footsteps slow and heavy as once again she felt the prickling feeling on the back of her neck at being on her own once more and she found herself glancing behind her every few seconds.

She gasped as she walked into the kitchen, surprised to find a man she didn’t recognize standing there as the color drained from her already pale face and she stood rooted to where she stood.

He looked up, seeing her obvious fear and wanting to be quick about alleviating it, “It’s all right, Monica. I’m one of the agents now assigned here,” His voice was soothing and he felt terrible for frightening her, especially after what he knew had happened last night, “I’m Nathan and I’m sorry to have scared you. I was expecting Paul or Andrew.”

The little angel struggled to control the wild beating of her heart as she managed to nod her head as her eyes came to rest on the vase of flowers that Nathan was holding, “Do all agents come bearing flowers?” She joked shakily as she moved nearer to the coffee pot, still feeling completely unsettled. When the agent didn’t answer her, she turned back around and saw the deer in the headlights look that had come over him.

Seeing the questioning look in her eyes, he knew he had to respond, “You weren’t supposed to see these. They were just delivered…for you.”

Monica felt her heart pounding in her ears as her eyes remained focused on the vase of wildflowers Nathan was holding and she didn’t even realize that Andrew and Paul had just walked into the kitchen. She felt as if all she could hear was the sound of her heart and her own breathing as she took a step nearer to Nathan and her hand trembled as she reached for the card that was embedded within the flowers.

“Monica, don’t-.” Andrew pleaded, but his plea fell upon deaf ears as he and Paul watched tensely as she opened the card.

Her hands shook as she tore open the envelope, already knowing who they were from before she read the simple, yet chilling message, “Thanks for last night. We’ll do it again soon.”

Andrew was poised, ready to rush in as soon as she fell apart, but what he saw was a look of complete and utter anger crossed her tired face and this new emotion was a concern for him in itself.

“What does he want from me?” She cried out, hot, angry tears flooding her eyes as she held the card in her hand still. Her vision blurred as she looked at Paul, then Andrew, “If he wants to come in here and kill me, then fine! But I don’t understand this game! If he wants me to be afraid, then fine, I am!” A sob escaped her as she moved to the back door and flung it open, “I’m afraid, all right? You win!” Angrily, she slammed her palms against the screen, “Do you hear me? You win!”

Andrew and Paul were both shocked by Monica’s outburst. In all the time that she had been under their protection, she had never once uttered a word in anger. Grief, perhaps… fear and frustration, certainly, but never anger. The blond angel quickly moved towards her, and he placed a hand on Monica’s shoulder and pulled her away from the door gently.

“Monica,” he started, but was quickly cut off.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” she said, shrugging off his hand.

She quickly relented, the angry lines in her face softening as shock filled her eyes at the way she had just spoken to her dearest friend. She tried to meet his eyes and convey an apology, but then Paul was there, turning her to face him. He stared into her eyes, his own face taking on some of her anger.

“I’m not going to tell you to calm down,” he assured her. “I’m glad you’re letting it out. I want you to give this bastard a piece of your mind… You should be angry. Hell, I’m furious and it isn’t my life he’s messing with. I’d let you shout it from the roof if I thought it would help.”

Hearing Paul agree with her outburst served to allow some of her anger to seep back into her heart, but it couldn’t erase the hint of guilt she felt when she glanced at Andrew. The angel’s expression was a mixture of anger and frustration, but in his eyes she could see the concern he held for her, and she knew that it stemmed from a fear that she was letting McArthur change who she was. She quickly looked away from him, remembering his tone of voice from just that morning. He was on the edge of fury himself… how could he possibly expect her to feel any differently?

“Monica,” Andrew tried again, but the look in her eyes made him pause, and instead of guiding her to the table he stepped back, giving her space.

“I… I think I need to be alone for a minute,” she said, voice very controlled, without a hint of tears although her sorrow was evident.

Neither Paul nor Andrew stopped her as she made her way out of the room and in a moment they heard her light footsteps on the stairs. They looked at each other, knowing that she was probably going to look in on her kittens, and both of them hoped that the little creatures would serve to bring her back to center.

While Andrew seemed to be more worried about her outburst, Paul was very concerned as well. He hadn’t been able to finish what he wanted to say to her. Yes, he was glad that she was letting her anger out, but he didn’t want it to overtake all of the other good and gentle parts of her personality.

Andrew couldn’t help looking towards the ceiling when he heard his bedroom door open and close. He longed to go to her, to let her air everything that she was feeling to him, but he knew that he couldn’t just rush up there. In the first place, Paul would certainly ask him where he was going, and in the second place he didn’t think she really wanted to talk to him at the moment. He just hoped that she was taking this time to talk to the Father.

Monica ran nervous fingers through her long hair and she let out a long sigh, feeling her heart finally return to a normal pace. She still couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened downstairs, her mind spinning over both the fact that the killer was continuing to torment her, and her reaction to it.

Paul’s attitude had served to give her strength while she was downstairs. His anger on her behalf was enough to keep hers going, but then she thought of Andrew’s stunned expression. Anger had never been a part of who she was, and no matter what had happened, it didn’t feel right; at least not that kind of unbridled fury. That was part of why she had been so saddened to hear Andrew’s brief prayer. It had told her that he was struggling with those same feelings.

The kittens, completely oblivious to everything that had happened, scampered happily around the angel’s feet. They were simply glad to have their surrogate mother back with them. Monica felt her heart grow a little bit lighter as she looked at them, and she moved further into the room and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Their lovingness and innocence reminded her of the way she had felt prior to that horrible night. She wanted more than anything to get those feelings back, but she knew that she had seen and felt too much, and she would never be entirely the same.

“Father,” she whispered softly, “I know that I can’t go back to the way things were, but please help me to at least try. Please help me to be strong without this terrible anger in my heart.”

This time there was no light or warmth, and no beautiful sunrise to let her know that she had been heard. Instead she looked down at her kittens, and she looked into their trusting eyes, and she knew that He was listening to her, as always.

“What florist did they come from?” Paul asked Nathan, his voice tight as he scribbled down notes on a pad. His rage was continuing to flow and it was all he could do to keep focused, especially now that he and Andrew had both read the card.

“Casey’s,” Nathan replied, sitting down at the table with the other two agents, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for her to see them, but she asked and-.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul interrupted, though he also wished Monica could have been spared this on a morning that had just followed a very long night, “I may go down there and question Casey myself and find out how he made the arrangements.”

“I’ll go,” Andrew heard himself say and he was almost surprised at his own offer. But the truth was that he needed a little space himself as his anger was running wild. He knew that Paul found Monica’s anger perfectly normal and acceptable under the circumstances, but his partner didn’t know the little angel the way that he did. Anger like that was not generally a part of her and it left him feeling unsettled and more than slightly concerned. Add to that, the fact that she didn’t really seem interested in seeing him right now and it just seemed like a good time to give her the space she had requested.

Paul nodded his head in agreement as he looked at his partner, “I could send another agent, but at this point, I’d just feel better if it were you or I that went.”

The angel nodded his head almost feeling a guilty tug at his heart for offering to go. Under normal circumstances he would have prefered it been Paul so he could steal some uninhibited time with his best friend, but things seemed to be turning on a dime the last twenty-four hours. His thoughts were distrupted as he saw a coldness come over Paul’s expression and Andrew raised his eyebrows in question.

“The killer is picking up the momentum, Andrew, and we need to be more careful now than we have ever been. He has Monica completely in knots, which is right where he wants her and his goal now would be for you and I to be running in circles chasing our tails.”

“You think he may try something again tonight.” Andrew stated, feeling his stomach twist at the mere suggestion.

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I think he is going to keep building this thing; its all a part of the game he is playing and I’ve seen it before. He doesn’t want any of the three of us to have any time to regroup as that would make his job all the more difficult.”

“Then let me get going so I can get back,” He rose to his feet, suddenly completely anxious to do what he had volunteered to do and then get back here to Monica. Taking Paul’s proffered car keys, Andrew gave his head a brief nod in Nathan’s direction, before he headed out the door.