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Birds of Pray	By : Kittenmommy Category: M through R > Prophecy, The Views: 2167 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Prophecy movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
“Birds
of Pray”

Chapter
1
Simon Says

STANDARD
DISCLAIMER: The Prophecy belongs to Gregory Widen, and
I’m not making any money from this.

AUTHOR’S
NOTE: This fic contains a few naughty words. Later chapters may
have references to hermaphroditism, as the first Prophecy
movie established that angels are hermaphrodites (i.e. in possession
of both male and female sex organs and presumably genitalia).
Sorry to disappoint, but there will be no graphic sex in this fic –
I just don’t write that kind of stuff.

*****

The
faculty meeting was over. When Katherine Henley returned to her
empty third grade classroom, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t
completely empty after all.

A
man was perched on the back of the chair behind her desk, his knees
drawn up against his chest and his long grey coat hanging down behind
him, adding to the birdlike effect. He was reading the
teacher’s edition of Our World, the third grade social
studies textbook. Despite the long softly curling red hair that
curtained his face, Katherine recognized him right away.

“Simon,”
she said quietly, disbelieving. “I thought you were
dead.”

He
looked up from his book and smiled at her. Silhouetted against
the late afternoon sunlight slanting in through the big windows, his
hair shown like a halo of golden red fire.

“Hello,
Katherine.”

She
ran a hand through her hair. “I – “

He
dropped the textbook on her desk and stood, effortlessly balancing on
the back of her chair for a moment before jumping lightly to the
ground.

She
backed away as he approached her. “Don’t be afraid,
Katherine. I bring you glad tidings.”

“I
can’t do this,” she protested, holding her hands up as
though to push him away. “I can’t deal with you
people anymore!”

“The
War is over,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken.
“Heaven has been opened to your kind, and my brothers are my
brothers once again.”

“Good
for you,” she said shortly, backing out the door.

He
stopped her with a hand on her arm. “My brother Gabriel
has regained his grace and once again sits at our Father’s left
hand.”

“Great,”
she said, yanking her arm out of Simon’s grasp. “That’s
terrific. Tell him I said ‘hi’.”

“Katherine
– “

She
pushed past him into her classroom and began gathering up books and
papers from her desk, stuffing them into a straw tote bag. He
followed her inside, his hands spread wide in supplication. “If
you would only listen to me for a minute – “

“Go
away, Simon,” she said harshly, not looking up from her task.
“Just leave me alone.”

“But
you need to know – “

She
slammed a book down on the desk and looked up at him, glaring.
“No, I don’t need to know. And whatever it
is, I don’t want to know.” She grabbed the
handle of her tote bag. “Don’t you get it? I
am through with you people!” And with that she was
out the door.

Simon
watched her hurry up the hall. “I’m so sorry,
Katherine,” he said quietly, stroking his goatee in thought.
“But it seems that we may not be through with you.”

He
pressed two fingers to his lips and kissed them, then extended them
in blessing in the departing woman’s direction.

A
moment later, the hallway was completely empty.

*****

By
the time Katherine had stopped at the dry cleaners to pick up her
clothing, Blockbuster to return a DVD, the bank to withdraw some
cash, and the grocery store, it was nearly dark.

She
opened her front door and stepped into the dim foyer. She
tossed her keys on a little table near the door and flipped on the
light. She was about to go back outside to retrieve her dry
cleaning and groceries, but something made her stop.

With
a frown, she walked into the living room.

The
gloaming had turned the furniture to indistinct shapes, but she
sensed that something just wasn’t right. She fumbled at
the wall for the light switch. The lights came on, and she
gasped in surprise and fright.

There
he was, perched on the edge of her coffee table like a great big
raven: the Archangel Gabriel, the Angel of Death.

His
hands were folded, resting on his knees. His head was bent at
what looked like a very uncomfortable angle, his right cheek resting
against his shoulder.

She
stood still for a moment, eyeing him warily. He hadn’t moved
when the lights came on, and she could hear the even rhythm of his
breathing in the empty, quiet living room. Do angels sleep?
she wondered.

She
took a deep breath and bit her lip. “OK,” she said,
backing away slowly and quietly. “OK,” she
repeated, as if to reassure herself. She tiptoed gingerly back
through the foyer and out the front door.

*****

“What
city, please?” the operator asked.

“Los
Angeles.”

“One
moment.”

Katherine
sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the
headrest of the driver’s seat. She heard several clicks
in her ear, and the sound of a distant phone ringing.

“What
city, please?” a new operator asked.

“Los
Angeles. The Los Angeles Police Department, Homicide Division.”

“One
moment.”

There
were more clicks. Katherine looked up through the windshield at
her living room window, still lit from within. “Come on, come
on,” she urged the cell phone, willing the connection to be
made.

“LAPD,
Homicide,” a male voice said in her ear. Katherine sighed
with relief.

“Detective
Thomas Daggett, please,” she said.

“I’m
sorry, Ma’am, but Detective Daggett is no longer with the
force.”

Katherine
sat up straighter in her seat. “Really? Well, do
you know how I can reach him? It’s really, really
important. I’m an old friend… Katherine Henley
from Chimney Rock, Arizona.”

“Hold
on,” the man said. She glanced up at her living room
window again, licking her lips nervously.

After
several uncomfortable minutes waiting on hold, a new voice came on
the line. “Ms. Henley, this is Captain John Billingsley.
I hear you’re inquiring about Detective Daggett?”

“Yes,”
she said, swallowing hard. She suddenly had a very bad feeling.

“I’m
sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but Detective Daggett
passed away several years ago.”

Katherine
closed her eyes, fighting tears. “I see,” she
finally said. “How did it happen?”

”I’m
afraid I can’t release that information,” he told her
apologetically.

“Right.”

“Listen,
I’m really sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Well,
the Angel of Death is roosting on my coffee table… think you
could come to Phoenix and arrest him for trespassing?

She
sighed. “I’m afraid not, Captain. But thank
you for your time.”

She
ended the call and stuffed her cell phone back into her purse.
“What am I going to do?” she wondered aloud. She
suddenly wished that she hadn’t been so eager to get away from
Simon that she hadn’t stopped to listen to what he’d had
to say.

“Serves
me right,” she said with a sigh. “They’re not
called God’s Messengers for nothing.” She leaned
forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She
felt like banging her head against it instead. “Idiot!”

Katherine
stayed in that position for a while, trying to relax enough to be
able to think rationally about what to do next. I could go
to a hotel… just start the car, drive off and leave him there
in my living room, doing whatever the hell it is he’s doing.

The
idea had definite appeal until she realized that an angel could
probably find her fairly easily no matter where she was, just like
Simon had done earlier that very day.

Simon!
Of course! Why didn’t I think of that before?

She
sat up again, leaning back in her seat. “Simon,”
she said, shutting her eyes tight and concentrating. “I’m
sorry I blew you off like that. What I wouldn’t give to
see you here right now, sitting in the seat next to me. I
promise I’d listen to whatever you want to tell me.” She
waited a moment and opened her eyes, glancing over hopefully.

The
passenger seat was empty.

“Rats!”
Well, it was a bit much to hope for, she supposed… especially
after the way she’d treated him. She tried to remember
what little he had said – or rather, what little she’d
allowed him to get out before running off like a scared little girl.
She thought back to their conversation earlier that day:

Don’t
be afraid, Katherine. Ha. Fat chance, after all she’d
been through with angels!

I
bring you glad tidings. That line sounded familiar, but at
the moment she couldn’t think where she’d heard it
before.

The
War is over; Heaven has been opened to your kind, and my brothers are
my brothers again. My brother Gabriel has regained his grace and once
again sits at our Father’s left hand.

Katherine
rubbed her eyes. If that’s true, then Gabriel is a
good angel again, she thought. Then she laughed out loud at
the absurdity: a “good” angel. Was there supposed
to be any other kind?

Well,
there was Lucifer, she reminded herself with a shudder. And
speaking of Lucifer, I thought he took Gabriel to Hell with him.
So what’s he doing in my living room?

Suddenly,
she heard a voice – Simon’s voice – in her ear, as
clearly as if he’d been sitting right there next to her.
“Why don’t you go inside and ask him, Katherine?”

Her
hand was on the car door before another thought brought her up short:
Can I trust Simon?

Thomas
Daggett had trusted Simon, she reminded herself. And who had
been the first person she had tried to contact tonight?

“All
right, Simon,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “You
win. I’ll go inside and ask him.”

*****

Working
as quietly as she could, Katherine brought in her groceries and put her
dry cleaning away, occasionally poking her head into the living room
to see if the activity had woken the apparently slumbering angel.
She still wasn’t sure if he was sleeping, unconscious, or in
some weird state of hibernation unique to his species. And why
he’d chosen her coffee table to do it on was totally beyond
her. Well, maybe he’d wake up and tell her.

As
she was putting groceries away, she noticed that the red light on the
answering machine sitting on the counter was blinking. She
pressed the message retrieval button.

Hi
Katie, a male voice said. It’s me. I’m
not going to be able to make it for dinner tonight… have to
work late on the Altman case. Hope you understand. Can I
have a rain check for tomorrow night? Call me!

Katherine
groaned. With all of the stressful new developments of the day,
she had completely forgotten that she was supposed to make dinner for
Greg. Good thing he was stuck at the office. She finished
putting the groceries away and decided to go check on her uninvited,
unwelcome guest.

She
took off her shoes and padded into the living room as quietly as she
could. She stood for a moment, just watching him. When it
became apparent that he wasn’t going to awaken, she gathered
her courage and stole closer.

He
was dressed exactly as he’d been the last time Katherine had
seen him, in a white shirt, a long black coat with many buttons down
the front, and black leather pants. His black boots would
probably leave marks on her coffee table, she reflected. She
noticed that he was perched with his toes pointing inward, making her
think of a pigeon.

Emboldened
by her success so far, she crept closer yet and stood directly over
him. Still he showed no sign of waking.

His
black hair was combed back from his forehead. It feathered
lightly around his ears and neck, and its texture didn’t look
much like human hair at close range. Instead, she was reminded
of soft downy feathers. She only just managed to resist the
temptation to reach out to touch it, to see if it felt like feathers.

His
skin was as pale and smooth as ever, like an alabaster statue.
She could see something like a tattoo or possibly a brand on the
left side of his neck, partially hidden by the white collar of his
shirt. His neck was still bent in that very
uncomfortable-looking way, but now she realized that there was
something familiar about his posture. Finally, it came to her:
Birds sleep with their heads tucked under one wing. Using her
imagination, she added large white wings to his sleeping form, and
knew that she had gotten it right.

His
fingernails were the color of charcoal, which she assumed must be
natural; somehow she couldn’t imagine him polishing them.
He smelled like a rainy night, or a foggy morning; she hadn’t
noticed that the last time she’d seen him, probably because she
had been preoccupied with more important matters.

As
she was standing there studying him, he opened his eyes, the same
impossibly blue eyes that she still sometimes saw in her nightmares.

“Hello,
Katherine,” he said, and she jumped back with a little cry,
almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to put space between
them. “I hope I’m not imposing on your
hospitality,” he continued, either ignoring her reaction or
oblivious to it.

Katherine
watched him stretch his neck and flex his shoulders in a way that
made her think that he was stretching appendages that she couldn’t
see. Well, maybe he was. Finally, she found her voice.

“What
are you doing here? What do you want?”

“A
cup of coffee would be nice.” He stood and jumped down
from his perch. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

She
nodded wordlessly, and he followed her into the kitchen.

*****
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Birds of Pray