Guardian Angel by David Trebus Page A

by mortal soul, but in truth before that he had always wished he had joined the rebellion in heaven. One day soon he would rebel again; it was in his very nature. Why would anyone settle for prince, when they could be King?
    The mortal, Michael, presented a golden opportunity to realise that ambition. With his abilities, the souls of weak mortals would be his for the taking, along with their angelic guardians. The army he could build would be enough to besiege the gates of Hell itself before moving on to destroy the heavens.
    Garamond was lost in thought staring at his reflection and imagining all the possibilities that lay in front of him. All he had to do was gain sway over one small mortal. The thought amused him, for all the power they had, one single mortal could still make all the difference.
    He stretched out large dark wings and stood to his full height. He continued to revel in the possibilities of future glories and his ascension to the infernal throne. He could picture himself sitting on that throne of dark iron surrounded by lava, succubi at his feet performing base acts for his pleasure.
    “ Soon!” Garamond hissed.
     
     
    ***
     
     
      Michael and Claire finally found somewhere to sit; they had ended up drinking their coffee and eating their snacks on route to avoid them growing cold. They sat on a graffiti covered bench by the old British Warship HMS Belfast, a London tourist attraction. The sight of the ship brought back memories of his trips into London as a child with his father. Michael couldn’t help but smile looking at it.
    Michael remembered being so excited about setting foot on the ship, seeing the big guns, being on the water. He also remembered getting very scared when his father took him into the lower decks of the ship. He had cried and wanted to go back up, scared to be so deep in such a confined space. He had felt soothed after seeing a young girl. He wondered if it had been Jasmine? The souvenir shop and an ice cream back on top had cured him of any remaining fear.
      Claire looked the old ship up and down, seeming to Michael like she wanted to say something, but was hesitating. Jazen and Jasmine stood by the grass verge a few metres away paying little interest to the ship, it being just another monument to humanities desire to cause harm. They continued to talk softly just out of Michael's earshot.
    “It’s a nice view isn’t it? My father brought me here as a kid” Michael followed Claire's gaze.
    “ I suppose. I can't say I ever visited it. Big guns and grey metal never really did it for me, I was more of a Barbie girl as a kid.” Claire spoke coolly, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face.
    “ I loved all that stuff, which I suppose is kind of normal, being a bloke and all. I always wanted to join the RAF, become a hero. Never thought I would turn out working in some publishing firm and seeing…” Michael stopped himself short and swore at himself in his mind for almost letting slip. He was so used to discussing the issue with Jasmine, now he saw it as normal conversation.
    “ Seeing what?” Claire asked her eyes narrowing into accusing slits.
    “ Uh... Seeing sights like this instead of working on them,” Michael managed awkwardly.
    “ Uhhmm…ok then” Claire shrugged, looking at the grass.
    The awkwardness broken a little Claire leaned forward. She shifted in her seat, biting her lip and feeling the nerves creep up on her. She pushed them down with sheer willpower, refusing to allow any anxiety to take hold. In reality, the fear that she'd lose control was what made Claire seem so cold to others.
    “About my dream Michael... I know people think I’m a little weird, it’s just the way I am…” Claire hesitated.
    “But I honestly had a dream about your accident, Michael; it’s not just coincidence or me being odd. I saw you getting hit by that car and some…force, something else behind it guiding the car that hit you. But I also saw a woman with wings