Time stood still. The motor cycle was inches away from the girl. Patch's heart leaped out of his chest, and in a blind panic of superhuman strength he pulled Nora back towards him and into his chest. His Angel.

The world resumed at normal speed, and Patch reverted from his dazed, confused state. Nora looked up at him, her tears had started to flow, and her eyes were a worrying shade of red. He tightened his hold on her, and she buried her face into his chest.

"Nora," He whispered. "who are you?" He had started stroking her hair subconsciously. Nora sniffed, and broke away from his embrace.

She starred at him, contemplating, and wiped away her tears. She was embarrassed.

"Not here." She said, and led him towards his home.

"Do I even bother asking how you know where I live?" He asked when they closed the door behind them. He was very private about his home; he wasn't even sure that there was anyone still alive who knew it's whereabouts.

Nora laughed, still recovering from her tearful state. She sat down on his sofa.

"The Black Hand," She began. "rules an army of Nephilim." He repressed a shudder. It didn't sit well with him that an innocent girl new so much of his world. "Their aim," She continued. "is to eradicate your kind."

Patch stiffened. "Are they capable?"

"Not yet." She averted her eyes. "But they're getting there."

"This is about Cheshvan, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question. For centuries, fallen angels had been possessing the bodies of Nephilim. For centuries, they had captured, threatened and tortured an entire race. "I guess it's a reckoning of sorts."

Nora bit her lip. "There's one more thing." She said in a hushed tone. Patch narrowed his eyes.

"Hank Miller," She faltered, staring at the ground.


"He's my farther."

For what seemed like a long time, Patch was silent. "Is that why I tried to kill you?"

Nora smiled. "No, neither of us knew back then. Hell, I didn't even know about you at that point."

Then they were both quiet. Patch walked to the side of the room slowly, and drew his whiskey bottle from the cabernet. "Drink?"

"No, thanks." She replied. Patch, facing away from her, unscrewed the lid and drank from the bottle. He swallowed, and placed it down on the counter.

"I have one more question." He turned around. "Why did your farther remove my memories?"

Nora stood, pulling her grey cardigan tightly around her. She was still a little damp from the slight rain. "You volunteered them." She spoke unsurely. "Along with your wings."

Patches eyes widened. "I had my wings?" How did he get his wings? Was that even possible?

"Yes, the Arch Angels gave them back to you."

Patch was in shock. "Wait, what possible reason could I have for volunteering not just my memories but my wings?"

Nora's face flooded with shame. "You did it for me, I'm afraid." She noted his confusion and continued. "Hank had kidnapped me. He wanted to hurt you, but obviously you can't feel so…"

Patch's eyes narrowed. He moved forward, cornering her. "Did he hurt you?" He spoke softly, and a flurry of emotions crossed her face in a second. She nodded discretely. A deep, unquestioning anger rose in Patch. Why did he care for this girl? In the short time he'd known her she had only caused him problems.

Nora's eyes were still an unhealthy shade of red. "I'm only going to ask this once more." His words were steady and serious. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them. "What were we to each other?"

Nora inhaled sharply and swallowed. Very slowly, she tilted her face towards his and rose on her tip toes. Gently, she placed a hand on the side of his face, and this time he didn't flinch. Her touch was so delicate and light it would have tickled if he was capable of physical sensation. Before he knew what he was doing he crushed his lips to hers in a frenzy of passion. She returned his embrace with what seemed liked a wave of relief. His hands were on her now, pulling her body to his hungrily.

Eventually she pulled away, breathing heavily. "Has that answer your question?" She whispered.

Patch didn't answer, but instead swooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. "It has, Angel," He said. "It has."