Are you -sure-?

"Of course I'm sure," Sylvana muttered under her breath, pausing in the shadow between streetlamps. The road was empty, silent except for her own breathing and footsteps. Demon Town, despite its name, was depressingly normal, especially at night.

The angel persisted. You say you've seen this person, yet you cannot tell me who she is. It doesn't sound quite right. You know we can't afford to be careless...

Didn't she know it. But what could she do? This was driving her insane - she had to know, somehow, even if it meant confronting the person and looking like an ass while she pried into things that were none of her business. After all, if this was someone from the mage colonies, they wouldn't appreciate being picked out of a crowd.

When the alley - because that's what it really was, hardly wide enough to be much of a road at all - showed no sign of hidden watchers, Sylvana ventured away from her dark corner and continued down the center, just out of the reach of the dim, orange lamps and their lurid circles of light. They didn't do much to brighten the atmosphere, but all the better. She made enough noise squelching through puddles and sodden garbage without drawing attention to herself by waltzing into the light.

Please turn back, Sylvana.

She shook her head and sighed sharply. Look, even if it is a pursuer, don't you think we should just get this out in the open and off them? The enemy you can see is better than the one you can't.

Her companion gave his approximation of a snort. Your logic is impeccable.

We got rid of the others, didn't we? There was a turn ahead in the shadows, and she slowed, pressing herself to the wall again to peek around the corner. Nothing - not even a light to give her that false sense of security. I can't see an angel hiding in the shadows like this. They're so... so... She struggled with the word, probing the shadows with her eyes and feeling now, more than ever, her human inadequacy. They weren't limited by the time of day.

Self-righteous? Yes, we are. But we were made that way, you know.

Biting her lip, Sylvana crept around the corner and stepped carefully, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness so she wouldn't step on something disgusting and give herself away. That's not an excu--

Paper rustled behind, and she spun around, hands snapping up and ready to throw something - anything, as long as it kept intruders away. There was nothing there.

Pillar of confidence, are you?

"Shut up," she muttered, letting her hands fall. So he was right - did he have to say it? Maybe it was wrong to wander the alleys so late, and she was starting to get that funny feeling between her shoulderblades, but it was too late to turn back now. She backed up against the wall and glanced both ways. Suddenly, the thought of turning her back to anything, even empty darkness, was very unappealing. "What do you think?" The sound of her own voice was a comfort.

We cannot remain here. She turned her head both ways again, giving him an opportunity to look. Whatever you decide, staying in one place would be unwise.

That they could agree on, at least. Sylvana pushed away from the wall, resolutely turning her back on the mysterious darkness of the alley she had been following, and took a step back in the direction they had come. It was time to admit she was wrong, and get the hell out of there.

"A wise decision," came a voice from the shadows in front of her. Sylvana froze. "But I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave yet."

There was stunned silence where her angel should have been. Swallowing was difficult, her throat suddenly dry and very uncooperative, but she wasn't about to let her adversary see that. "Oh really." She tried to make her tone as insulting as possible and hooked her thumbs on the belt loops of her jeans. "I don't think you have any say in that, sir." At least, she thought it sounded male. And that was all she needed to know what was facing her. It was always hell to identify the voice of an angel with any gender.

"You think not?" Its response was mild, the intonation slightly amused, and against the dim, misty glow of the unhelpful security lamps farther down the alley, a shadow detached itself from the wall - a tall, thin, graceful shadow that would have tipped her off as to its nature if the voice hadn't. It gestured, but whatever it did was swallowed by the darkness. "That is a dead end behind you, Sylvana, and you have not mastered the art of levitation. If that doesn't convince you of my authority on the matter, I'm sure there are other ways to show you how serious this situation is."

A threat? An angel actually lowered itself to threatening? Wonders would never cease. Hello in there? Any suggestions?

I am sorry... The rare note of hesitation made her swallow again. She didn't need him jumping at shadows now. I have nothing to offer without a form of identification.

-That- I can do. Maybe. She raised her voice again, eyes resting warily on their opponent. It hadn't moved as far as she was aware, but the shadows were deep. "Hiding in the shadows like that is contemptible, you know. I'm not going to be convinced by-"

"By your own kind?" The angel laughed, and the shadow spread its arms. "You're right, child. There is no reason to linger in the darkness."

Sylvana stepped back, but whatever the angel did was beyond her fledgeling sense of magic. It was light, but not the conventional illumination of the lamps beyond, or even the pulsing brightness of magic. She watched it glimmer at the tips of his fingers, shedding just enough light to hint at his features, and then it expanded, creeping slowly along his arms, spreading across his torso and down to his legs, and finally it welled up into his eyes, illuminating his face. It was a beautiful face, but seeing it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Weren't they all beautiful?

Well? She didn't recognize him. That meant he was a new factor in their little game with the angels, and 'new' usually meant bad things for them. Hey, is this enough? She knew he'd gotten a good look - it was hard not to stare. But only silence met her query.

"Now," their adversary continued, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I apologize for the abruptness of this meeting, but your charade has gone on long enough." His eyes narrowed, and his gaze seemed to stab right into her heart. "We are going to end this. You may have been able to manuever around the others, but you will not be so lucky with me. If you come peacefully, I will be lenient. If not..." He left it hanging, and Sylvana felt her companion quiver.

What? Another step back, and it still didn't feel like enough. What what -what-? You aren't supposed to be afraid of him! What should I do?

There... there is nothing...

-What-? Her hands twitched up and words of defense stumbled over themselves as she scrambled for something to throw at the other angel, but she paused. Anyone would be wary of throwing a spell at that set of eyes. So she told herself. What are you -talking- about? Who is this? What's the -problem-? Still, their opponent hadn't moved.

The voice trembled for the first time in her memory. It's him. The Prince. There -is- nothing we can do.

Prince? What prince? He'd named dozens of princes. The books mentioned over a hundred of them. What did that matter?

-The- Prince. Don't you see? Even fear couldn't mask his exasperation. Metatron.


-----------------------

[The word: misdirection]

Despite how much I love Metatron, I really hate using him in stories. He was the right fit for this one, or at least the general idea of the story, but... meh. He was also reduced to one-dimensional-villain status here, sort of, which I regret. But what can you expect from unedited nonsense, really? Especially when it comes from me.

Someday I'll post the beginning of this story so everyone'll know what the hell I'm talking about. I scrapped it a while ago, so there's no reason to keep it under wraps.