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Angels & Devils

Summary:
Seattle has been invaded by covens of Rogue Vampires - vampires who hunt and prey upon other vampires. Bella and the Cullen siblings are in Seattle for a rare night out on the town. They are attacked by Rogues, and Alice Cullen is lost in the ambush. The family fears the worse, believing that Alice is dead. Alice awakens with no memory of who she is, where she is or how she came to be there. She also has no clue that's she's fallen into the hands of an old enemy to her kind. A half-vampire who once waged a 50-year long war of vengeance against all vampires. A enemy so vicious that the Volturi had dubbed him with the name, "Lucifer", and who was long since believed to be dead himself.


Notes:
This is my first Twilight Fanfic. It is currently posted in part to the FanFiction.Net site under the same pen name, and has 52 chapters up. There is still a few hundred more pages that are written and waiting to go. I decided to post this to a few fanfic sites to see what feedback I can get from the experts. This story has some violence, language, and minor adult situations (not too descriptive or vulgar - I tried to keep in mind how SM handled such things in writing.) so I guess this would need a "R" rating. Thanks.


7. Chapter 7 - Girl's Just Wanna Have Fun

Rating 3/5   Word Count 5890   Review this Chapter

Chapter Seven: Girls just wanna have fun.

I made it back home several hours later than I had originally planned on. It turned out with the modern advances in security technology and techiques, it was a little more difficult to break into hosptial blood banks than I had anticipated.

It had been a few decades since I had to play burgler, so I was somewhat out of the loop. Add to that, that I felt bad enough with what I was doing that I didn’t want to steal all of what I needed from only one hospital, so I had to hit several in the city and surrounding areas to spread the load around. I couldn’t bear the thought that someone innocent might die for lack of a blood supply if I cleaned out only one bank.

Not my finest hour as far as criminal capers go, nor the most admirable thing I’ve even done, but I ended up with about twelve pints of human blood in different types for the effort.

I had hoped that Angel would still be ‘asleep’, but that hope turned out to be in vain. Lucky, I remembered to leave a note for the vampire girl just in case, with the further hope that she still recalled how to read. The note contained mostly that I had gone out to obtain items we needed, and a additional warning not to leave the house unless it was on fire.

That all slipped my mind, as I opened the door and hear music playing from the livingroom. That wasn’t the bad part. Playing lightly under the music, I heard the distinctive tones of my very expensive and almost rare bass!

I dropped the styrofoam cooler containing my pilfered blood on the kitchen table, and slung my leather outback coat over a chair before hurring into the room to find Angel sitting on the floor in front of my cheap Aiwa stereo.

My Evanscenece CD was playing, and Angel sat crossleged with my Zon on her lap, the bass plugged into my small practice amp as she played along to the music.

Her fingers flew up and down the neck, adding octives and harmony to the bassline that I could never hope to match on the best of days.

I was suddenly depressed for a moment, wondering if everybody in the world was a better bass player than I was, even a vamp girl with amneisia. The grand mortal insult added to ego’s already painful injury was that it was my bass and I couldn’t play it like that.

My next thought turned to panic, as I considered what those super strong little hands could do to the comparatively fragile graphite neck if she wasn’t too careful.

I must have audibly squeeked at that thought, and she heard it over the music and her playing.

She turned and smiled at me.

“You’re back! I got your note,” she told me. She turned the stereo down a bit and then tilted the body of the bass in my direction. “I was bored, I hope you don’t mind? I didn’t know I could play.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to appear too concerned for the safety of my pride and joy instrument.

“You play… very well,” was all I could stiffly get out. Trying to say anything more probably would have lead to me giving way to panic for the safety of my beloved Zon.

“Its very relaxing,” she replied, and then ran her fingers down the board playing a riff that would leave me with cramps in my fingers for a week. I wondered how she could get her small thin fingers to run the fingerboard like that so easily, the Zon Legency wasn’t known for having a thin neck, quite the opposite actually, which is why I preferred it over even the standard Fender P-bass.

Angel handled it like a pro with decades of experience – which for all I knew, she just might have had after all.

I was pretty much beganing to think about killing myself about then from the depression of witnessing her latent talent.

“I think I must like music,” she said, looking back up at me. “I’ve spent the last few hours listening to some of your collection. I hope you don’t mind that either?”

“Not at all,” I said, then I couldn’t help myself any longer. “But please… be very careful with the bass. You’re strong enough to break it very easily and I probably couldn’t find another one.”

“Oh, I’m being very careful,” she promised me. “It would be a shame to harm something so… beautiful. I like the way it sounds. No wonder you’re worried about it.”

“Yeah, I pretty much like it better than anything else I’ve ever owned or played,” I responded with some pride, as I moved toward the front door. Behind me, Angel played something that would have been written for a full string orchestra and making it sound good on a lone bass, and I was again debating just slamming my head in the heavy front door when I got there.

I postponed my self-execution for the moment, deciding to man-up and bite the bullet on my mediocre bass talent, and instead retrieved the two jugs of cattle blood that I found sitting on the porch by the door where I expected them to be.

Jerome had been as good as his word.

Lucky for him.

I brought the jugs in with me, back through the living room, and Angel looked up at me with a hint of curiosity in her golden eyes. They must have been sealed well, because it seemed she couldn’t smell the blood through the plastic of the containers, which was probably a good thing.

Her eyes asked the question, “What’s that?” pretty plainly.

“Cattle blood for you,” I told her as I made my way back to the kitchen.

I heard the amp click off, followed by the stereo a second later. I didn’t hear or feel her footsteps through the floorboards like I would have with a human, but I was sure she was right behind me as I entered the kitchen without having to look… mostly because as I had discovered earlier, she had a very pleasant scent that slightly proceeded her.

I put the jugs on the table by the cooler and then dug under the counter for an old garage sale blender I remembered buying one summer and storing there. I found the device and dragged it out, pausing only to quickly rinse out the pitcher portion of the appliance.

Angel watched me with profound interest, as I plugged it in.

“I have to mix these together,” I told her. “I’m going to have to unscrew the cap from one of the jugs and then open one of the pints of human blood I picked up.”

“Where did you get pints of human blood from?” she asked curiously.

“Don’t asked,” I lightly warned, and then inquired, “Can you control yourself while I take care of this?” I asked

She thought a moment in thought, and then nodded.

“I think I can. If it gets too bad I’ll leave the room and wait for you to bring it to me in the living room instead,” she said.

I nodded, having to trust her to know her limits, and carefully uncapped one of the jugs. Angel’s nose wrinkled and she sniffed the air a few times.

“It smells sort of… nice,” she said, with mild interest. Strangely, I’ve never noticed blood smelling so ‘interesting’ before either. But it was something I only vaguely remarked for the moment, thinking I only noticed it because I was apprehensive about the possibility of having a vampire who might go blood mad at any second in the kitchen with me.

I used the measuring marks on the pitcher and poured in nine parts of the cattle’s blood. Next after recapping the jug, I opened the cooler and pulled out the first pint of human blood. I used a kitchen knife to nip the small flap off the top.

Immediately, Angel’s eyes turned completely dark, and she licked her lips. But she didn’t make a move from her spot.

“That smells much better,” she said in a voice that only shook just the barest bit.

“You probably don’t want to get use to the human factor,” I said. “You weren’t a human preying vampire… and you need this only to help heal yourself. Keep that in mind.”

“I will,” she said solemnly, but she absently licked her lips. I again hoped she could handle the treatment.

I had to admit; it smelled pretty nice to me for some reason too, and much better than the cattle blood in my opinion also. However, this time it also made my mouth slightly water and my teeth ache. Which was very odd, as I’ve never really been attracted to blood at all in the past – animal or human.

I again put it down to having Angel in the room with me, thinking it was possible that vampires might give off a pheromone of some sort when their blood lust was aroused, and that maybe a small part of my own heritage was tuning in on it.

I quickly poured in the last part of the mixture and slammed the lid on the pitcher, not wishing to overly torment Angel if I could help it.

I used a garbage bag twist tie to close up the partly used pint of human blood and tossed it back into the airtight cooler for the moment. I would have to clear out space in the refrigerator for this supply as soon as I could.

Angel’s eyes followed the pint bag, but she still made no move toward the leftover container, even though it was plain that part of her wanted to.

I hit one of the mix buttons, and the blender growled to life for a few seconds. The noise broke Angel’s trance and she turned her attention back to the device and the red swirling concoction inside it.

When it stopped, Angel asked, “Now what?”

I thought a second then offered, “I suppose it would taste better heated up?”

Angel shrugged, but indicated that she herself had no clue as how to proceed, and that I should do what I thought best.

I was surprised at her self-control and patience, but not too willing to test it anymore than I absolutely had to… keeping in mind this little girl could still tear me limb-from-limb if she became disappointed with dinner’s timely arrival.

I quickly found an old coffee travel mug I had gotten somewhere for free and never used. I’ve never liked coffee for a single day in either of my lives, both alive and half-alive.

I dumped as much of the blood mixture into the mug as it would hold and then shoved it into my microwave at low power for about forty-five seconds.

It seemed like an eternity before it finished heating and as soon as the bell rang, I opened the door, finding the mug to be at a happy medium temperature, I pulled it out and handed it to Angel.

She took it, and I thought she might bolt it down right away, but instead she sniffed at it attentively for a moment. Her face was blank for the most part.

“Well… here it goes,” she said, and then took the first sip.

I waited, actually holding my breath, hoping that it would work as the manuscript claimed.

She worked the blood around her mouth for a bit and then swallowed. She paused for a few seconds more, and then gave a little shutter… that I thought might be a bad sign.

“Not bad,” she finally said, and immediately took a second drink.

I let the breath I was holding go free. I considered that the little shutter must have been a reaction to her body’s dire need, and not a sign of rejection then.

“Not too bad at all,” she repeated with a pleased look.

She then smiled mischievously at me, and suddenly held out her mug toward me, it’s contains sloshing from side-to-side slightly.

“Want some?” she asked impishly, most likely in revenge for me questioning her gender earlier in the day.

I knew it was just an impulsive attempt at humor on her part. But the scent of the human and animal blood drifted over me with the subtlety of a tidal wave as she tilted the cup my way. I’m not sure if I was more astounded or horrified to find myself responding to the scent. Immediately, my teeth ached and I felt the tips of my fangs protrude better than half their length. The more concerning part was the way my mouth started to water again almost uncontrollably.

I jerked my head away and threw a hand up to cover my mouth. Angel giggled lightly at my response, probably assuming my reaction was one of being repulsed. At the sound of her melodic voice, my fangs slid all the way down behind my hand, and I found myself suddenly with the urge to bury them in her lovely throat.

She smelled so much enticing to me now, even more than the blood did at the moment.

I clenched my mouth shut tight, and kept my face adverted from her. Taking the moment to try and will my fangs to retract again, before my hand might slip and she saw them.

What the hell was wrong with me, I silently asked myself? I never in my life reacted to blood in this fashion; I in fact handled what she was now drinking just a moment ago with no real serious effects!

And I’ve certainly never wanted to take blood from somebody else’s throat before. I’ve never had the compulsion or need to live on blood.

“I’m sorry,” Angel was saying with genuine contriteness a moment later. “I shouldn’t have done that. It probably grossed you out, and I’m sure you didn’t find it as amusing as I thought it would be for some reason.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, or to chance opening my mouth and revealing my secret.

A few seconds later I felt the ache in my upper jaw recede, and I quickly ran my tongue along my teeth to make sure that my canine were normal size once more, and they were, so I was able to turn around and face my guest again.

“Yeah,” I said dryly in reply. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your meals to yourself.”

“I am sorry,” she said again, making a show of keeping her mug and it’s contains close to her and as much out of my view as possible. I could still scent the blood, but it had thankfully lost its strange allure of just a moment ago. I was however more grateful that the strange sudden urge to go for her throat had passed as well.

It had to be something she’s broadcasting while she feeds that combines with the blood to connect with my vampire half, I concluded more positively now. I was going to have to be more on-guard of that in the future if she was to remain here in my home.

I’ve never lived for any length of time in close proximity to a vampire before, so I have to guess that there might be some unexpected complications such as this.

“You’re forgiven,” I told her. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” she promised while making an ‘X’ over her silent heart.

As much as it disturbed me, I let the matter go at that. I’d rather have her thinking I was aghast instead of discovering the actual truth about me at this early point.

Maybe it shouldn’t really have mattered to me at all, but I wasn’t ready for her to know what I was. I found that I didn’t want to have to explain my life to her when she already had enough of her own problems to deal with.

And I especially didn’t want her to learn that I was at one time the most wanted killer of her kind.

In the beginning I told myself it was because I didn’t want to have to constantly watch my back around her. With my past history, I was more likely than not, bound to have killed a friend, family relation, or coven member that was close to her. Vampires are not known to be very forgiving, and revenge has been known to become a favorite pastime and obsessive hobby for them.

Now I also had to admit… I didn’t think I could bear the look in my unexpected houseguest’s eyes if I told her who and what I was, and that detail was one of the rare facts she did actually recall clearly.

The mug incident behind us, we retired back to the living room. Angel brought her refilled tumbler of blood, while I settled for the rare glass of Pepsi-cola. I normally prefer green tea iced, but I figured that after the hectic day I’ve had of playing gangster basher and bugler, that a good dose of sugar and caffeine was just what the doctor ordered to help stave off any sudden bouts of blood lust that may rear its ugly head.

Angel flopped into one of the oversized easy chairs, curling her legs up beneath her as she settled in. I saw that she had commandeered an old pair of my sweat pants I had laying around for herself that were much too long for her petite build, and made a mental note to ask if she wanted me to pick up some more suitable clothing for herself. Seeing she did have a rather sizable amount of money sitting on the dresser of the guestroom still.

I glanced in the corner to see she had placed my bass safely back into its case, for which I was grateful.

I did my best not to think about the easy grace in which she had been playing it just a short time ago.

My ego had taken enough bruises for one day.

She indicated my CD collection and asked why some of the ones that I had burned had such a wide variety of musical genres on them. I saw which CDs she meant, and explained that they were practice CDs of the music I performed with my cover band.

She seemed pleased with that, saying she like the mix of different types of music, and then asked if I’d mind if she put one of her favorites on for background noise.

I gestured that she should help herself, and she bounced over to the player, and after searching through several discs, placed one inside. Hitting the play button, she listened for a few seconds to make sure she had the disc she wanted. She smiled when it was the right one, and then danced her way back to her former seat.

That reminded me. We had a gig coming up that coming weekend at one of our bigger venues. I doubted very much that I could leave Angel here alone for that long, so I was going to have to call the guys and ask them to see if the back-up bass player could take the show for me.

With that in mind I called Donny, the lead guitarist. I got his voicemail so I left a message explaining that something had come up and I’d like the next weekend off if possible.

“Is that because of me?” Angel asked when I hung up.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone for that long,” I told her. “Its shouldn’t be a problem really. We all have back-up musicians in case someone needs or wants a day off.”

Angel assured me that she would be fine by herself if I needed or wanted to go. I said it was only one show and no big deal. She shrugged and we went on to chat about other things, mostly the music in my collection that Angel found she liked… and some that she disliked.

Eventually, she noticed what I was drinking and she sniffed the air to get a scent of it.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at my glass.

I had momentarily forgotten that she couldn’t remember a great many things that the rest of us take for granted every day.

“It’s a soft-drink. Cola,” I told her.

“Its smells very sweet,” she said. “Can I try some?”

I thought about it for a moment. “That might not be a very good idea. You might not be ready to attempt human foods.”

“Please? Just a taste,” she pleaded.

How could I refuse when she looked at me like that? With those big wide golden eyes.

“Okay,” I relented. “But only the smallest of sips… just to get an idea of the taste. That’s all!”

“I’ll be a good girl,” she assured me and held her hand out for my glass. With some misgivings, I handed it over to her.

She smiled a little bit, which kind of reminded me of someone smiling in triumph for getting his or her way.

Angel took the tiniest of sips from my glass, and the smacked her lips as she let the soda roll around her taste buds. All the senses of a vampire far outreached those of a human, so anything that humans find pleasing, a vampire would find it tenfold more so.

“That’s very good!” she said with a small hint of pleasant surprise. “It’s very bubbly on my tongue.”

“Its the carbonation,” I told her offhandedly.

“Oh,” Angel replied, as she thought it over for a moment.

I saw the new roguish smile just a split second too late.

With a huge grin, Angel knocked back my glass and took a huge swallow of the cola.

“No!” I cried, moving to stop her just at the same instant the deed was done.

The girl grinned at me as I rescued the remaining soda from her hand. I waited with bated breath, hoping the almost definite reaction wasn’t actually going to happen.

She continued to smile smugly at me for several more seconds, and then she suddenly blinked hard and all but lost her confident look.

By the time her expression turned distressful, I had grabbed up a nearby wastepaper basket, making it under her just in the nick of time.

Angel vomited like a freshman sorority girl at her first frat party.

“Oh, that was lady-like,” I said flippantly as she retched.

I’ve done a lot of bloody things in my time, and some of those acts would in no doubt have turned the strongest stomach of human or vampire, but vomit was the one thing that almost always made me queasy.

Hey, everyone has something that they can’t stand. I was just glad I made it through Angel’s bout without joining her.

Luckily, we spent the rest of the night without further incident.

Angel listened solemnly while I lectured her on some of the facts of her temporary condition. The most important one for the moment, being that in her weakened state, she wasn’t going to be able to tolerate human foods until she fully recovered. She seemed less than pleased with the additional information that even if she were healthy, anything she ate or drank to fit in with humans, would have to be voided later… more or less in the manner she just abruptly experienced.

She was defiant enough however, to point out the mishap was partly my fault for not warning her of the dire consequences beforehand. I countered that I wasn’t a medical specialist in any field, and that I had no reason to believe that she would ignore my instructions and behave so childishly.

That resulted in about a half hour of good-natured bickering between us, and ended with me giving her Eleazar’s manuscript to read for herself.

Angel consumed several more mugs of the blood mixture while we chatted on safer topics, and we got to know what we could of each other. She was well into the second jug of cattle’s blood by the end of the night.

Happily, I had no more flashes of that odd blood lust, though I felt a little guilty about not being exactly truthful about certain things concerning my past and myself that she asked about.

But the more I talked with her, the less willing I became to share my secrets with Angel. It was nice to finally have somebody I could talk to, almost like a normal person… even if it was a vamp.

Oddly also, I made a note that Angel was able to stay ‘awake’ for much longer this time, unlike the prior two times when she fed from me. I could only conclude that it was a good sign that she was on the mend.

The next few hours passed rather quickly, and I was surprised to notice how late it had become when she finally excused herself to retire for the evening.

The next morning brought an entirely new set of problems for me.

I had risen early and showered, Angel had appeared not long after and joined me in the kitchen. She and I were seated at the breakfast table; her with a fresh mug of the mixed cattle’s blood, that had just been delivered that morning, and me settling into a large breakfast of ham, bacon, and eggs.

Which in itself was a touch odd, as I didn’t much care for eggs at all, but I had woken up with an urge for them. I put it down to having to replenish the blood I lost feeding Angel the first two times.

We were halfway through our meal when the telephone rang. It was Donny, our guitar player and original founding member of the band.

He had gotten my message the night before about wanting the coming weekend off, and was calling to inform me that Ricky, our back-up bassist, wasn’t going to be available Saturday night until late.

I cursed, as Donny stressed to me that I needed to be there for the gig, at least until Ricky showed up to take over. He wasn’t pulling any punches, telling me that the group was counting on me to be a team player and all that other bull crap.

Had I been anybody else, I might have bought most of it. But I knew that Donny really didn’t get along too well with Ricky, as both had their own ideas of how the band should be run, and the pair clashed constantly. The next gig was one of our bigger ones and the venue booked us at least once a month, and for the bigger party nights of the year like New Years Eve and such. This place in fact had us booked for the next two coming years on certain dates.

If Ricky came on in the middle of the night, Donny wouldn’t have to get into a battle of wills before the show with the bass player about how the stage should be set-up and how the song lists should be run.

Donny had just about implied that if I weren’t there, he would show up at my house and drag me there. I didn’t bother to remind him that he had no idea where I lived.

He was sort of half serious and half joking, but I was annoyed enough to almost suggest he go ahead and do exactly that… and then if he did somehow manage to find me and show up, feed him to Angel.

I looked at Angel’s sweet face for a moment as Donny chewed my ear off over the telephone line, and decided I couldn’t do that to her.

The poor girl would probably end up with indigestion from munching on a dipstick guitar player.

I finally promised Donny I would be there for part of the night, and he hung up happy to get his way.

I wasn’t so cheerful as I set my house phone back in its cradle.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

I told her; even though I very well knew with her hearing she heard both sides of the conversation quite clearly. She was allowing me the illusion of privacy in this case, which was very thoughtful of her.

“So it looks like I will have to leave you alone here for awhile Saturday night after all,” I finished.

To say I wasn’t happy with the prospect would have been an understatement.

“I could go with you,” Angel suddenly offered.

I glanced at her as I considered the idea for just a mere moment, and then shook my head.

“That might not be such a good idea,” I told her.

“Why not? It’ll be fun,” she countered.

I made a point of looking at her mug, and raised my own eyebrow to silently add that her being ill in a nightclub full of tasty humans might not be the smartest thing at this juncture.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, immediately picking up on my concern. “I can control myself for a few hours. I haven’t attacked you at all, have I? And I can bulk up on as much of this as I can hold before we go.” She held her mug up slightly to indicate it. “I’ll be too full to want more.”

“I don’t know…” I started. She did have me on the not trying to drink me dry part. However, I wasn’t about to point out that I was slightly more safer around her than a normal human would be. Not much safer, but still safer to a slight degree.

“Please!” Angel then pleaded. “I want to see you play… and I want to get out for awhile and do something. Who knows, it might do me some good to get out and help me remember things! This place you’ll be at isn’t anywhere near where you found me, is it?” The last she said, with a hint of apprehension, but she didn’t appear concerned enough to alter her forming plans.

“No, it’s not,” I admitted. “It’s a club in the suburbs, not in the city.”

“Well, it should be safe then!” she added, perking up again.

I grimaced and started to shake my head again. “Angel, I…” was all I got out.

“You can protect me better if I’m with you,” the girl added slyly.

I paused in my debate to look at her. She smiled innocently at me, and my heart did that flip-flop thing again. She still didn’t know what I was, and a true human could do little in the way of protecting her against another vamp. So, I knew she thought she was snowing me to get her way.

Still, she made a good point. If she could go with me, I could keep an eye on her for the most part… and it would only be until Ricky showed up to take over.

And that would be much better than leaving her alone for a few hours with me so far away if something did happen.

“Whew, you’re good,” I told her, in way of surrender.

She smiled in victory once more, and then leaned over to hug me briefly, probably as consolation for my defeat at her deft and sneaky hands.

Damn, but she smelled so good!

I did have one condition for this proposed night on the town, however.

I wasn’t totally convinced that she would be able to handle being around so many humans, especially if said humans had been drinking.

I didn’t relish explaining to anyone, particularly the cops, why Angel had taken a nip out of somebody who might had aroused her, one way or another.

Seeing Angel need more appropriate clothing anyway, we decided a short trip into town to shop would be a fitting test for Saturday night. Angel was delighted with the prospect, and scurried away back to the guest room to root though what clothing I had stored there for something more suitable to wear to town.

While she hunted through my leftovers and discards, I checked the local weather and luckily found that it called for heavily overcastted skies for the entire day.

That made it much more easier, as Angel would attract much less attention then if she wasn’t shimmering like a diamond disco-ball when the sun came out.

I gave it a little more thought, and had an idea on another precaution that might be prudent.

I quickly left by the back kitchen door, and headed over to my neighbor’s house, old Mrs. Winston. I had meet the elderly widow shortly after I had moved in when she knocked on my door one morning thinking I was the prior tenant, to ask if I’d mind removing a bat that had somehow found its way into her living room.

She was a little confused to find me there, but I gladly helped her evict the rodent anyway, and we’ve been cheery neighbors ever since then.

Even if I had turned down several offers for her to introduce me to a few of her single granddaughters over the last seven or eight months.

She seemed to be of the mind that I needed a “good woman to look after me.”

I returned about ten minutes later with a floppy women’s sun hat and an equally old fashion pair of women’s sunglasses. Mrs. Winston apparently thought my request to borrow the items was peculiar, even after I offered the excuse that I need them for a visiting friend with a sensitive skin condition, but I get the feeling that she thinks I’m odd anyway for turning down each of her granddaughters. All of which, judging by the photos Mrs. Winston insisted I look at, were in fact very cute and/or nice looking human women.

But in the end, she did lend me the items I asked for.

Angel reappeared about ten minutes after I returned, wearing another pair of my old sweat pants and the belt from her original clothing to better hold them up. Over this she wore a un-tucked black Jack Daniels T-shirt that was given to me one night at some club we played as a promotion, and she top off the ensemble with one of my lightweight jackets that had the band’s logo silk-screened on the back.

I chuckled when I saw her wearing it, because it was so large on her that it immediately reminded me of a child trying on her father’s cloths.

She smiled at me, and then did a pirouette like a fashion model would on the runway, showing off her makeshift garb. It was then that I noticed she had salvage her shoes from that night, and had probably spent most of the time she was away cleaning them up to make them passable.

Her smiled turned into a happy grin at the prospect of leaving the house.

And I figured this was going to be an interesting learning experience to say the very least.

I just hoped nobody died.