Superhuman (Harry Styles)

•Part Eight•

Due to certain people begging for chapter eight, I decided to post it early because it isn't fair to torture you all, so here you go! Chapter Eight! :)

Hello my lovelies! I cannot honestly tell you how thrilled I am with all the reads and votes and stuff. I honestly did not expect you beautiful creatures to love this story as much as I do, but I'm forever grateful for you guys. Special thanks to PermanentLaugh, for without her editing this chapter would not have been possible. Happy reading!!

-Hailey xx

-Harry's Point Of View.-

"There's more?" She asked nervously, twiddling her thumbs. It was hard enough for her to understand all the information I had already given to her in such a short amount of time, I wasn't exactly sure how much more information she take, I didn't want to tell her anything. I'd rather have kept everything a secret from her for as long as I could; maybe even forever if I could have gotten away with it, but with Michael lurking around, she needed to know.

I chuckled darkly, though there wasn't any humor.

"Oh, there's a lot more, Devon." I said grimly, like I had just announced a death in the family. I shifted uncomfortably beside her. I knew she could tell by the firm stance I had taken that I was not very happy with having to explain all this to her. She sat there and waited patiently for me to speak.

"I told you . . ."I stopped, taking a deep breath. "I told you that I fell in love with you, and that's why I got exiled."

"Yes, you did tell me that." She answered me quickly, needing for me to get to the information I hadn't acquired yet.

"Well, that's true. I managed to leave a piece of vital information out of that though," I cracked my knuckles nervously.

"Just spit it out, Harry, before you make your head explode." She stood up and began pacing. I watched her as she moved

"I got exiled . . . in 1729." I spoke the last part reluctantly. She stopped my pacing altogether and I knew what she was thinking, 'This had to be some joke, a cruel and horrid joke. It was impossible, unless he had lied about why he had gotten exiled, because he said he got kicked out for falling in love with me but that wasn't possible because my great-great-grandmother hadn't even been born yet in 1729, let alone me.' She had been thinking.

"So, what are you lying about?" The harshness in her own tone surprised me. I looked at her through my eyelashes, not at all surprised at her reaction; I had expected this out of her. I stood up with a sigh that no twenty year-old should ever have been able to make.

I walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders. Even when she suspected me of lying to her, she couldn't deny my touch.

-Devon's Point Of View.-

( A/N: Short, its super short but I need to get a point across and it wouldn't make since in Harry's Point of View.)

"Nothing," He forced my face up so he could see my eyes.

"You just need to let me explain, let me explain myself and how I fell in love with you." I nodded my head, signaling for him to continue.

"It's true, what I said; I did get exiled because I fell in love with you."

"Harry that can't be possible-" I started.

"Let me explain, Devon." Harry scolded me, so I let him continue.

"In 1727, I saw this girl when I got sent down to earth; on a mission, you could call it. She was a rich little girl, and her parent's had money, more money than me or anyone else at the time could ever dream of having." I smiled at me slightly, getting lost in the memory.

"She had an older brother, his name was Landon. He was extremely protective of her, which I could tell just by watching how they interacted. Lovely little Rebecca; she was just fourteen when I saw her, and I was seventeen so I never even dared imagine a sensual relationship with her, you couldn't even begin to understand what would happen to a guy if someone found out he was thinking thoughts like that around a little girl. Sure, she was only three years younger than me at the time, but even now that's frowned upon." His eyes held a faraway look, one I hoped to never see again. He looked like he was worlds away from a fallen angel talking to a human girl in his room with it quietly raining outside.

"She had blond hair and shocking blue eyes, eyes I never thought I'd ever see again." He stopped and looked at me, square in the eye. The look he was giving me was very intimate, but I couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was seeing Rebecca right now, not Devon. (A/N: See, now that wouldn't have made sense in Harry's Point Of View, now would it? Now, back to Harry's POV)

-Harry's Point Of View.-

"I couldn't ever be seen around her, so I watched her; learned everything about her, using my time on earth. She loved to read." I added as an afterthought, I couldn't help but say it, Devon loved to read as well.

"But then Michael told everyone about my love for an insolent little girl, and they ripped out my wings." I felt myself flinch by my own statement.

"I hope to never feel pain like that again," I added, suppressing another shiver from the memory.

"They exiled me and forbade me to ever see Rebecca again, though that wasn't a problem, she died two years later, from some mysterious 'ailment.'" I rolled my eyes, I didn't believe that for a second.

"I was heartbroken, it ruined me. She had died before she ever had the chance to meet me. Around 1751, I was in Paris, France just living there. I had to move around a lot, never aging and all. People notice eventually." I shrugged, feeling the need to explain everything. It was true, I was very heartbroken, but nobody ever knew.

"I thought Rebecca was dead, so you can imagine the surprise and wonder I felt when I saw her again, standing in the middle of a clothing store. I was so surprised, I ran up to her, tapped her on the shoulder. 'Rebecca?' I called to her; she turned around, a look of confusion on her face. 'No, sorry.' She said to me, 'My name's Katherine.'" I remembered the shock as if it had been yesterday.

"I remember muttering 'Sorry, wrong person;' and moving on. But It perplexed me. I couldn't understand why Rebecca's ghost had come back to haunt me. I watched Katherine, just as I had with Rebecca. When she was just seventeen, she married a horrible old cow," I stopped, listening to Devon giggle at my comment, and then I continued.

"At eighteen, she had a child. It was a son, and it just so happened that she named the child Harry." I felt myself smile, unable to control myself.

"The little boy grew up healthy and strong and had kids of his own, and they had kids of their own, and so on. Though before any of this happened, his mum got pregnant again. This time she was twenty. She gave birth to a little baby girl, but died soon after. Something had gone wrong, a little complication, though her daughter survived, and she was named Isobel." I stopped, giving Devon a little bit of time to let the information sink in.

"Isobel grew up, just as her brother did, she lived a long happy life. I expected for Isobel's daughter, Jessamine to look like you, but she didn't. You never appeared in the Lawson family again.

"A decade later, I stumbled into a girl; she surprised me to the point of having a near heartattack. She wasn't a Lawson, though she looked just like you. So my theory of you running through the same family continuously was tarnished.

"Sofia lived the longest out of all of them, she lived to be eighty-nine, she died in 1901, sixty-seven years after she had her last daughter, Anna." I stopped, hearing Devon gasp just as I knew she would.

"That's my Mom's name!" She squeaked.

"I know. Anna had a daughter. . . named Devon." Devon gasped beside me, and she grabbed my hand.

"Isobel and Devon had something in common. They both looked exactly as Rebecca and Katherine had looked. Then soon, I realized the answer, why Rebecca's ghost had been haunting me all along, following me where I went. She was an old soul."

Devon stared at me, her face white from surprise and fear and I didn't know what else.

"I'm . . . an old soul?" She asked quietly.

"Yes," I smiled lightly at her, "You might even be older than me, I don't know how long you've been around." She slapped my shoulder.

"Hey! What was that for?" I laughed at her putting face.

"Never, ever comment on a women's age." She giggled, but then she was all seriousness again.

"That still doesn't explain why Michael hasn't turned us in." She explained, her hands motioning in the air as she spoke fast.

"It does, you just don't have every piece of the story." I answered her, praying she wouldn't want to know anymore.

"Tell me the rest," She said automatically, her eyes shining with interest.

"You sure?" I asked her, I didn't want to shock her too much today.

"Go for it," She smiled encouragingly.

"Okay, you're old soul comes back every couple years after you die, and you always look the same, always act the same, exact same voice; everything the same, you never change. But you aren't just any old soul, you're special, because you, my friend, are the oldest of all souls. And what that means," I explained to her as she listened quietly. "Is that if . . . here, no that won't make sense, I have to explain something else too. The Higher Ups, they aren't what everyone thinks they are; they aren't sweet or nice or angelic. I would go as far to say as they are evil little bastards. They steal, lie and cheat. So, that being said, most angels want to find a way out, a way to cut all ties with their kind, but peacefully. They may be lying little bastards, but they like their peace." I stopped talking for a few seconds, making sure she was understanding everything.

"You, you're there answer. You're Michael's answer." I spoke quietly, hating the truth I had to tell her. I saw the look of confusion cross over her face, and she scowled, angry that she couldn't understand.

"Harry," She said finally, "I don't understand." I sighed. I knew she didn't.

"If an angel were to . . . kill an old soul, they'd become human, all ties with the angels gone. You don't realize how valuable you are, you don't have a clue." I finished, staring at her.

She stared at me for a few seconds then hastily got off the bed, startling me.

"Is that what you want?" She said, frightened. I was confused.

"Is what what I want?"

"Do you want to kill me to become human?" She stated, and I nearly choked on air. That couldn't be farther from the truth, I loved her, I was trying to save her.

"Oh God, no, Devon!" I jumped up, cradling her in my arms, expecting her to pull away from me, but she didn't. I held her for a while, and then she asked me a question.

"Is Michael going to try and hurt me?" She sounded so close to tears and I bit my lip. I wanted to lie to her, tell her everything was just peachy and that I scared Michael off, and that he would never come back for her ever. But I couldn't lie to her like that, I couldn't give her any false protections.

"Yes," I answered her and I began to feel her body shake.

"But I won't let him hurt you. I'll kill him first." I whispered to her, and she visably calmed then.

"I don't understand," She muttered. "Was Rebecca related to me? She died before she had any children, right?" She asked.

"I don't understand that part myself. I suppose you jumped souls somehow, landed in a new family. I don't know, but I've come to the conclusion that you stay in the same family for a few generations and then you jump to another one. The reason why I hadn't met you before you were Rebecca must have been because I hadn't seen you yet, I assume you had been a member in that family previously, but you died before I ever discovered you. If I had to wager, I'd say once you die in this life time, you'll jump to a new family, maybe. You've been in the Night family tree for a long time." I smiled at the next statement that came out of my mouth.

"If we were to have a daughter," she smiled, "You probably wouldn't come back as her daughter, or her daughter's daughter, you'd move along to a new family again. But in all honesty, where ever you go, you'll find your way back to me. You always do." She looked up at me and smiled that beautiful smile, I had thought she looked the same as all the others, but I realized something different. Devon's face held happiness where her other personals had not, because Devon was with who she was supposed to be with, while her past lives never got the chance to be with who they were supposed to be with, because I followed stupid fucking rules.

But hey, rules are meant to be broken.

-Niall's Point Of View.-

(A/N I really like Niall's POV's for some reason, I dunno why but expect a lot of them. :D )

"Rules are meant to be broken, Liam." I was beginning to get frustrated as he stood in front of me, trying to get me to see his reasoning, but I wasn't seeing it. Someone's wings were getting ripped out today, and they weren't going to be mine.

"But Niall, they will end you-" Liam started, mystified by my sudden need to leave the Archangels.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic Liam, Zayn did it and it obviously wasn't so horrible, right mate?" I swerved my head in the direction of Zayn, who was sitting on the ground; his back facing a large rock as he watched us banter with a slightly amused expression on his face.

'I'm breathing aren't I?" He laughed slightly.

"See, Liam! I'll be fine, now come here!" I was getting seriously frustrated. If he didn't cooperate with me I was going to have to make him, and I didn't want to do that, but I would if I had to. Liam looked up at me with a scared expression on his face. He took a step forward, a tiny step, and then he took another. This process continued until he was right in front of me; he stopped suddenly.

"Okay." He said.

"Yes, thank you-" I started.

"Under one condition." He interrupted me.

"Oh come on, Liam! Are you serious?" I groaned, and I heard Zayn chuckle in the background.

"It's just one, and it isn't even that hard of a condition." He smiled ruefully.

"Oh fine, what is it that you ask?" I spoke through grinded teeth.

"Tell us why you want to leave so bad." Liam stated.

Oh, well. That wasn't too hard. I'd just tell them what was on a need to know basis only and then we'd get on with the wing ripping thing that we had scheduled to be done, oh an hour or so ago.

"Oh, alright, I'll tell you." I sat down in the middle of the grassy clearing we had picked. I didn't know how to tell them because this wasn't the usual conversation. 'Yeah, uh I want to rip out your wings because the angles lied to me and told me my sister was dead and yeah, so how was your day?'

Yeah, I didn't really think that was the best approach.

"You guys know Devon." I stated simply. Zayn and Liam nodded, 'go on' expression plastered on both of their faces.

"Well . . . she's my sister. The dead one." I stopped, it seemed as if everything had gone quiet, there were no birds chirping, no animals playing around, no wind, it was just dead quiet, as if the world was listening; wanting to know my secrets too. Liam and Zayn both started talking at once

"But that's not possible! The angels said she was dead-" Liam started.

"She was seven years older than her brother!" Zayn interrupted.

"Guys, shut up and let him explain." A voice called from behind the rock Zayn was resting on and it turned out to be coming from Louis.

"I died," I started, "And Michael made me an angel, said I was too young to die. So everyone started calling me Niall, and it stuck. Angel name I suppose." I stopped, this part was rough. "Two years ago, when I was seventeen from living up in heaven, they sent me back down to earth. Devon was only fifteen, it had only been a year since I died on earth, but in heaven it had been a decade and then some." I choked, finding myself fighting tears I didn't know I could create.

"They all lied to me. Told me she was dead when they sent me down so I wouldn't look for her. And It worked. I never went looking for her, but she found me. They lied to me, told me my little sister was dead. I've been looking for an excuse to get out of the Anarchy for a while now, and this is it. If I don't leave now, while the anger is fresh, I might not ever." I spoke, and it was true. I needed to do this now; rip Liam's wings out now, or I never would be able too.

Liam looked very sullen as he stood up. He pulled me off the ground with a look of fear in his eyes that he tried to smother it but it was still there; I could see it. I nodded and turned to Zayn, wordlessly he stood up and walked over to us.

"Alright," He said running his fingers through his hair, which was very uncharacteristic of him. "Liam, take your shirt off." Liam did as he asked, shrugging his shirt off. It landed with a soft thud on the ground.

"Niall, this is where it starts." Zayn took his index finger and lightly touched Liam's skin, where the wings were, but I couldn't see them.

"No one can see them," Zayn answered my inner thoughts and I shrugged.

"Louis, come hold him down." Zayn instructed and Louis came skipping along.

"Finally! We shall all be misfits in the eyes of God, glad you two finally decided to join the club!"

"Lou." Liam scolded him, and Louis' smile fell off his face.

"My bad," he muttered as he grabbed Liam.

Zayn took my hand and guided it to Liam's shoulder blade. I could then feel the plasma like substance, unlike anything I had ever felt before. Instantly, I tried to pull away but Zayn grabbed my hand and forced it back to Liam's back.

"Do you want out or not?" He asked sternly.

"Yes, I do." I replied back instantly.

"Then grow a pair and just pull. It will only hurt him for a second, and then you're both free from them forever." He was right, just pull.

"I'm sorry for this pain, Liam." I muttered as I got a good grip on him.

"Just do it Niall, I want to be free."

Before Liam could change his mind, I pulled with all my strength.

-Devon's Point Of View.-

There was so much about me I hadn't even known about myself. An old soul? I was an old soul? I hadn't even known what an old soul was three hours ago, but then suddenly it was what I was. Who I was.

The idea didn't really freak me out; I found it kind of fascinating. I had been around for hundreds of years, coming and going as I pleased, having different families, different lives.

But me being what I was, meant just about every angel in the history of the universe that wanted to be human, wanted to kill me. Not just Michael, but everyone.

Harry had sworn up and down he would protect me from it all, and I believed him. Of course I did, but it wasn't this need to protect me I was worried about; it was his ability. I knew he was pretty badass and that most angels feared him, that much I gathered from that conversation we had in the car that seemed like it had happened so long ago, but there was strength in numbers, and what if they found that out? What if they came at me in a group of ten?

But then I immediately dismissed that thought, because they wouldn't gang up. Only one person could have my death, only one person would get their humanity by killing me.

They would come alone.

As I sat on the couch patiently waiting for Harry to make my coffee, I found myself wondering about his sister. Gemma, her name was. I wondered where she was, what kind of angel she was. Was she fallen? But I didn't ask Harry any of those questions when he walked in with my coffee and chocolate, because those wounds were still fresh, even if they were cut nearly four hundred years ago.

I started reciting the alphabet in Russian, something I had learned in school in my head so Harry wouldn't pick up on anything I didn't want him picking up on. I saw him crinkle his nose in frustration and I nearly laughed aloud.

"Are you . . . couting in your head?" He asked and tapped the center of my forehead.

"No, it's the alphabet." I smiled at his confused expression.

He pointed at me then at him then back at me as he said, "Alright, your alphabet must be different from mine because last I checked it started with A B C not bach blech gersh." With that statement, I began to laugh uncontrollably, until it hurt to breathe and Harry laughed with me.

"No, no it's the alphabet in Russian, Harold." He grimaced when I called him Harold but he then chuckled.

"Oh. Well that makes sense." His shrug made me laugh more.

"Was it hard just now, for you to tell me all those things?" I asked him. He looked at me with a look on his face I couldn't place.

"Yes, it was very hard to tell you about how I fell in love with you fifty different times. It was extremely hard to tell you about how you're a golden beacon for any angel wanting to be human in about a million mile radius." His grip tightened around me, as if he was afraid that if he loosened his grip on me, he'd lose me forever.

"Harry?" I murmured so quietly I barely heard myself, but he heard me.

"Yeah?" I felt his chest vibrate as he spoke, his steady breathing making his chest rise and fall under me.

"I'm just-" I stopped. The words I wanted to say just wouldn't come out right. I wanted to say I was sorry for all the pain and heartache and loss I had caused him. Sorry for turning him against his brother, sorry for taking his sister away from him, sorry for ever existing; because it seemed like the longer I was around, the more I hurt Harry.

"Just what?" He inquired as he silently twirled a strand of my blond hair with his fingers.

"Nothing," I answered him quickly. I turned my head up to face him and he had a deep frown etched on his face. It seemed like he was always frowning now; I missed his smile.

A loud knock from the door startled us both. I looked at him in fear and opened my mouth to ask him who it was put he put his fingers to my lips and shushed me.

Niall? I thought to Harry. He turned his head to look at me and shook his head no.

He would have come in instead of knocking, Harry replied back, staring at the door. He stood up, walked across the livingroom and up to the door. I could barely make out a shadow behind the door, but I couldn't see enough to determine anything useful of the person.

Upstairs. Harry thought to me, as he reached out and grabbed the doorknob. There was no way in hell I was going upstairs and leaving Harry by himself. I shook my head roughly. Harry nodded. He started at the door for a few minutes, as if he were caught in time. Then, as if slapped into action by some invisible force, Harry reached out and grabbed the doorknob.

I heard his sharp intake of breath as he opened the door.

"Harry?" A girl voice spoke from outside the door.

"Gemma."

-Niall's Point Of View.-

I had never heard a scream filled with such pure agony. Liam stumbled away from my grasp, his body shaking with throaty sobs. A little drop of blood was running down his back, where an upside down 'V' scar had now formed. It was pink and fresh looking, and it was already starting to puff up. Liam stumbled over to Zayn, who had begun to rub this salve like substance of Liam's back.

So, Liam was now free. I had broken the law, ripped out a fellow angel's wings.

So why were the Higher Ups not summoning me for trial? Or better yet, why weren't they down here ripping my wings out?

"Uh, guys what am I missing?" I spoke aloud, and everyone's heads turned to look at me.

"Nothing," A dark, familiar voice rumbled from behind me, and I turned around to meet the dark green eyes, the ones who lied to me, the ones who told me my sister was dead.

"Michael." I heard the tremble in my voice and it took every ounce of power I had within me to keep from jumping on his frail little body and disconnecting his head from his body.

"In the flesh," He grinned evilly at us all.

"What are you here for?" Louis sounded angry as he spoke up.

"Oh nothing," Michael kicked a rock in my direction; it bounced off my knee and hit the ground.

"Just running some errands. You know, dropping off the boss' dry cleaning, going grocery shopping for his wife, picking up his son from soccer practice, ripping out a fellow angel's wings, you know. The usual." He laughed at his own sarcasm, though no one else made a sound.

"Funny? No? Oh, lighten up guys! I'm just trying to be polite here, lighten up the awkwardness. Just trying to get people to like me." He grinned at me, and imagined beating the grin off his face.

"See, Michael to get people to like you, you have to, oh, I don't know, not kill their sisters, maybe? That one simple action could do wonders for your popularity rating." I heard myself say to him, though I wasn't really in the clearing with Michael. In my head, I was beating the ever-living shit out of him.

"Well, I haven't actually killed her yet per say, I've just made an attempt." Michael sneered, like it actually made a real difference to me.

"That's just as bad." I said through gritted teeth. I felt someone come up behind me and rest a hand on my shoulder, probably to keep me from going crazy, but I didn't know how well that was going to work.

"And you lied to me; you told me she was dead! How dare you tell me she was dead! I could have found her ages ago-"

"That was the point, Niall. We didn't want you to go looking for her; we didn't want you to get distracted. So we did what we had to do." Michael interrupted me.

"That's utter bullshit. I wondered the earth for two fucking years! Two years and I hadn't thought to look for her once because you and your fellow 'good guys' upstairs decided it was best for me not to know that she was alive. I don't even want to see your face anymore. Do what you came here to do then get the fuck out." I grumbled to Michael. He looked as if he wanted to laugh at my outburst but held it back.

"I'm here for your wings." He stated simply.

"Then take them," I was scared to death, I didn't want Michael to touch me let alone rip out my wings, but I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of seeing my fear of him; I'd rather stick hot pokers in my eyes and ears before I even comtemplate showing him fear.

"You do realize this is probably going to be the worst feeling you'll ever feel in your life, right?" Michael spoke as he moved towards me. I didn't care how much it hurt, I was over and done and I wanted Michael to leave.

"Just do it."

-Devon's point of view.-

My heart was in my chest as I watched Gemma latch herself onto Harry, hugging him and telling him how much she had missed him. I stood in the background, dreading when Gemma finally noticed my presence. I knew she would more than likely probably hate me; who wouldn't? I would hate me too if I were in her position, I took her brother away from her.

She looked exactly like Harry, but maybe a few years more mature, around maybe twenty three or twenty four years old, but I knew that meant nothing. Harry looked twenty and he had been around for hundreds of years. She had milk chocolate brown curly hair that rested at the small of her back, and it was all curls, curlier than Harry's. I imagined that hair was hard to keep. Though she was obviously older than Harry, he was massive next to her, taller than her by about five inches; he made her look like a dwarf, and I realized that's probably what he made me look like, too.

When Gemma pulled away from Harry, she finally noticed me. She turned towards me and I nearly flinched, anticipating a look of hatred; malice on her face. But that's not what her face contained. Her face contained a look of pure curiosity; amazement even, but no hate.

"Is this her?" Gemma stage whispered to her brother, as she stared at me like I was an insect. Harry looked at me and shrugged apologetically before answering.

"Yes, Gemma this is Devon, now stop whispering she can hear you." Gemma gasped, as if she actually thought I couldn't hear her. She walked over to me and pulled on my blond hair in which I could only guess was an affectionate gesture.

"She's a keeper." She turned on her heel and walked past Harry, heading towards the kitchen.

"Harry do you have any food in here?" I heard her yell as we followed her back.

"Yes Gem, but you actually have to look for it."

"Shut up, curly." She retorted back to him, and he chuckled quietly.

"You do realize you have curly hair as well, right?" He yelled back to her.

"Yes, Harry, I do."

We had reached the kitchen then, and I nearly fell over in a fit of giggles at the sight. Gemma stood there with a chocolate bar in one hand, a bowl of fruity pebbles in the other, with what looked to be her phone cradled in the crook of her neck.

"I see something's never change." Harry smiled slightly at her, and she smiled back. Harry had smiled more in the fast five minutes then he had the whole time I'd known him.

"So, Uh Gemma. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely happy you're here, I've missed you incredibly but err . . . why are you here?" Gemma looked at Harry like that was absolutely the last question she wanted Harry to ask her. She sighed in defeat and sat up on the counter, and looked Harry in the eyes.

"I'm here because Zophiel has a message for you." Simple words enough and I wouldn't have thought a thing of it if Harry hadn't suddenly stiffened beside me, immediately grabbing my hand and holding on for dear life.

"What's wrong, Harry? I don't understand." I tugged on his hand when he didn't answer me, but he still didn't even budge.

Gemma turned and looked at me. "Zophiel literally translates into 'God's spy.'" She began.

"What does he want?" Harry interrupted her explanation. Gemma looked as if she were about to tell a mother that her child had just died.

"He wants proof that you haven't gone back on your promise, the one that you made when you were exiled." She answered at last, and I felt Harry grow even stiffer beside me, it was like I was holding a rock instead of a hand.

"What does that mean?" I asked, sounding like a little girl who doesn't understand anything, and who has to ask a million questions to grown adults because I'm curious about what they're talking about when it isn't really none of my business.

Harry finally turned and looked at me, grasping my face and pulling me to him, kissing me like it was our last moments together. I felt kind of awkward kissing him like that when his sister was standing right there, but that was soon forgotten, because I was getting caught up in the feeling of Harry's lips against mine. He pulled away, and looked at Gemma. She had a sad look on her face as she watched us, almost as if this was the last time she would ever see us.

"What does this mean?" I asked again, because no one had answered me the first time.

"It means," Gemma said as she hopped off the counter and walked over to us, "That Michael isn't the only problem you have now."

Helllllooo lovelies! SO what did you think of that chapter! Devon finally learns what she is! And there's more trouble! Who is this Zophiel we've just heard about! I wish I knew . . . wait, I do know! But you don't! Don't fret guys, you'll learn soon enough. And no, Michael is not going anywhere or getting any less dangerous, as a matter of fact he's about to get a whole lot scarier. Anywho, This was probably the hardest chapter for me to write so far, I don't know why really. But I hope you guys liked it as much as I do! I'm gonna go for fourteen comments, (Odd number I know but I didn't want to be predictable,) and thirty votes for chapter nine to be posted on Thursday! Vote, comment you guys know what to do! In the words of my editor, VOTE AND COMMENT OR YOI AREN'T GETTING AN UPDATE! I really love you all but I need votes and comments so I know you guys still like the story. A simple "great story." Comment would suffice. Come on people, show me the love!