Chapter 1: The Assignment
The room reeked of death. It was a smell Amir would never get used to, but one he had encountered several times before , and was sure to encounter again. As he approached the bed where the little girl lay sleeping, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through the right side of his head. For a human being this pain would be crippling. To him, it was a tool, a part of him that was completely in tune with the people he came in contact with. He approached the right side of the bed and looked down at the precious child sleeping deeply, probably swimming in morphine. Human doctors had done what they could for the girl and declared her situation hopeless. But Amir worked for a higher power.
Her name was Christina Bates and she was only six years old. A brain tumor on the right temporal lobe was slowly killing her, and everyone but her mother had given up hope. It was because of the prayers of the mother that he was here.
He closed his eyes and held one hand inches away from her head. He concentrated on the intense pain he felt in his own head, trying to locate the source of it. In his mind’s eye he could see past her skin and bone, through layers of brain tissue and , buried deep inside, the cancerous growth. It was ugly, a stain on the otherwise perfect brain. With his eyes still closed, he focused on the tumor until he felt the entire mass break away. Like wisps of black smoke, the cancer left her and floated upward toward his palm before evaporating into thin air.
He pulled his hand away and opened his eyes. He turned to where Christina’s mother was sitting, just inches away on the other side of the bed. She had been dozing off in the chair beside her daughter’s bed, but was now wide awake and staring at him. Amir stood and stared back, waiting for her to react.
If she had not seen what he’d just done, he would probably look just like any other ordinary person to her. In his human form he was taller than most , but not unusually so. Wavy black hair caressed the back of his neck, and warm velvety brown eyes were a part of his disguise, as well as a passably attractive face. He was dressed normally, in khaki pants and a leather jacket over a button-down shirt. From the outside, nothing about him appeared to be out of the ordinary, but as he locked eyes with Mrs. Bates he knew that she knew better.
“ What’s your name?” she asked calmly, calmer than most. He hadn’t meant for her to witness her daughter’s healing, but some things just couldn’t be avoided. He’d been caught several times and most people tended to become hysterical when they realized what he was. He was grateful that he was not going to have to use his ability to erase the memory of his presence from a person’s mind.
“ Amir,” he answered simply.
“ You’re an angel aren’t you?” she asked, rising to her feet, never taking her eyes off of him.
He nodded. “Your prayers have been heard. Your daughter will live.”
Tears poured down Mrs. Bates’ cheeks and she burst into loud sobs, burying her face in her hands. Amir felt her joy, and it caused a wide smile to break out across his face. His heart nearly burst with the fullness of it.
“ Thank you,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “They said she wouldn’t live. They said I was foolish to believe. But I wasn’t, was I?”
Amir shook his head. “Never stop believing.”
He turned to leave, his task completed. As he exited the hospital, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Walking at a brisk pace, he set off toward the diner at the end of the street.
“ Father has a new assignment for you. He wishes to speak with you immediately.”
Amir sat across from Sarah in a corner booth at the diner. Sarah, a messenger angel, had been sent for him. He was to report to Father immediately for his next assignment. Stirring his coffee absently with his spoon, he stared into the murky depths of the cup.
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