Henry Angelini
Iloved Milano, Italy. It made visiting Uncle Michael almost pleasant. The centuries old mountaintop villa was one of the most stunning buildings I’d ever been inside. Its collection of art and furnishings rivaled any home or museum in the world. It was my memories, however, that kept it close to my heart.
Me and my cousins used to race around whenever the family got together. Those carefree days didn’t last long, but they’d allowed us to bond as a generation.
Unfortunately, those good times couldn’t improve my sour mood. Being summoned from Miami without any real explanation on the eve of the circuit party I’d helped plan would do that to a person. So much for my social standing.
The echo of my steps off the polished stone walls broke the otherwise silent darkness of the villa. I probably shouldn’t have had the metal guards installed to protect the heels, but at fifteen hundred dollars I wanted the shoes to last. Especially since they fit perfectly. Just what I expected from fine Italian leather shoes.
Whatever required my presence must have put my uncle on edge. Staff I’d known for more than a century barely acknowledged my greetings. After mumbling a halfheartedwelcome, they scurried off, pretending they needed to return to work.
I spent the bulk of the flight to Italy wondering what Uncle Michael had to say that needed to be discussed in person. I’d received assignments, sensitive assignments even, by halocalls, phone, text, email, even telegrams. This was more than just a mission.
Two guards stood a ceremonial watch in front of the closed, dark stained, oak doors. Michael didn’t need protection. I’d never seen him use his full powers, but those who had, spoke of its devastating effects.
Silently, the guards pulled open the French doors before I had to slow my stride. At the far end of the room, Uncle Michael stared out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. A strand of jet-black hair that somehow escaped the ponytail, fluttered in the breeze before being tucked behind his ear.
“Good evening, Uncle.”
He waited several heartbeats before turning around. While not hostile or angry, his face had a grim, determined look seen only during tense times. The big mahogany desk, that seemed so huge when I used it to hide as a kid, suddenly didn’t feel nearly as wide.
“Hello Nephew. Sorry I dragged you from your fun.”
Even his apology didn’t feel right. Was this a test? “Uncle, you’ve given me plenty of time to enjoy myself, probably more than I deserved. I understand my responsibilities, even if I don’t always show it.”
A slightly raised eyebrow told me I’d been out of line. Too bad. If I offended him, maybe he’d find someone else to do whatever needed to be done.
“I appreciate you gave up your party to come immediately.” He gestured for me to take one of the dark leather chairs nearby.“When you hear why I summoned you, perhaps you’ll feel less animosity.”
I wanted to protest, but I’d never convince my uncle I was sincere. Instead, I sat as instructed and waited to be spoken to.
“Your uncle Uriel has finally broken his silence.”
Thatwas noteworthy. Uncle Uriel stopped speaking to the family twenty-five years ago. “He called you?”
Michael shook his head. “Of course not. Uriel’s still mad at me. He sent a message through Ephrem Grant.”
I sat straighter. This was getting interesting. “Ephrem Grant?”
“Yes. He and Uriel are closer than I knew.” The anger in Michael’s voice told me what he thought of their friendship.
What I didn’t understand is how this escaped his notice. “What was the message?”
“They’ve located the fourth of your generation.”
Who needed a circuit party. This was much better. Ephrem was a very powerful angel. “It makes sense that the fourth is one of Grant’s descendants.”
“No. That would be too simple.” Michael picked up an envelope and slid it across the desk. “This young man is an enigma. Something no one’s talked about in centuries. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of what happens when the fourth heir is born.”
Then again, Miami probably would be more fun than my uncle’s cryptic way of telling me anything. “Which would be?”
“Come, Nephew, not even going to hazard a guess?” He leaned back and folded his arms across his torso. “You’ve already missed the party. Focus on our conversation.”
The reference irked me. Had he called me to Italyjustto miss the party? “I rarely pay attention to rumors or innuendos.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed and I braced for an angry broadside. “Clear your mind of the annoyance at missing one ofthose human events and return your thoughts to our race. You’re permitted to mingle among them, but your first responsibility is to our kind.”
Like it or not, the party was history. If I wanted to have a personal life again, I needed to redirect my thoughts to the scraps of information he fed me. “My apologies, Uncle.”
