IV

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She wasn't the same woman in the picture that my dad had given me. Her hair was brown, and her skin wasn't as pale, but she had the same green eyes and glow to her.

  She gasped when she saw me. She slowly made her way towards me, and rested her hands on my face.

  "Is it really you?" she asked. She smelled of rosemary, just like my dad had said.

  "I should be asking you,"I said. I didn't pull away from her, but I still wasn't sure about her. I pulled out the picture from my pocket. "You look different. Unless you got a tan and dyed your hair, you're not my mother."

  "That's not me," she said, taking the picture from me. That's my sister."

  "The one who helped you and dad escape?" I asked. If so, why had my dad lied to me about that? He had lied to me about my birth, and decided to cover it up with even more lies.

  "What? I was never in captivity. Your father was. My charges were dropped because I was pregnant and a member of the Council. My sister didn't help anyone escape. Your father was sentenced to die the day after you were born. But he managed to escape and take you. That's why we were looking for you. They started in Canada. We spent years there, trying to find you. Then we searched the rest of North America. We started in Huntington Beach, where your father and I met. After a while we began to doubt that you were even alive, but after 17 years of searching, I finally found you." She pulled me in for a hug, but this time I didn't hesitate. I still wasn't sure who to trust, but after my dad had repeatedly lied to me, I trusted her more than him.

  "I never thought it would have turned out like this," I said, fighting back tears. "He told me you had died giving birth to me. The only things he would ever tell me about you were that and that you were into music." She pulled away from me and walked over to a desk that sat in the back of the room. On top of it was the gig bag I had in the truck with me. She handed it to me.

  "I haven't played it in years." she said. "Keep it, from what I heard, you've been playing it for years." She cleared her throat. "But we have business to get to. You can't return to where you were before. We weren't the only ones looking for you. It was mere luck that we got to you before they did." She must have read the expression on my face, because she proceeded to explain tho "they" were. "Well, clearly, if there are angels and gods, there must be demons and devils. When word got out that there was a rogue Nephilim baby, everyone wanted to get their hands on you. Now that you're here, you can't go back, so you might as well take advantage of this opportunity."

  I raised a brow. "What exactly do you mean by 'take advantage'?"

  "Well, I'm sure your father told you about my importance. As my son, you're of importance too. At this point you have two options; you can stay holed up in a house until we defeat those who are after you - if we ever do - or, you can help us. You may have grown up in the mundane world, but you still have my blood. You have angelic potential. If you train hard enough, you might be able to join me in my field of work."

  I didn't respond. I hadn't even planned on being here, and just a few moments ago, I thought I was going to die. To tap into my "angelic potential" and work alongside my mother sounded great, but I was hesitant. And she was well aware of it.

  "I know it's hard, to make this transition," she held my shoulders, as if I would fall apart at any moment if she didn't. "I know you loved your dad, but you have to know that he didn't do anything for you. He did it for him. He did something . . . he did something that I can never forgive him for. I got him seized, and he held a grudge. He used you as a means for getting back at me. For all I knew, he was going to give you up to the other side. You may have loved him, but you have to know that what he wanted for you was vengeance. Help us, if you do, you at least might be able to see him again." That got me interested. My dad was a liar, and supposedly a horrible person, but he raised me alone. If I could see him just one more time, it would mean the world to me.

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