Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A/N: My brother is an aspiring rap artist and he wrote this song called “Angel Attraction,” which is where I got the title for this. I’m abusing my sisterly rights. The lyrics listed below are part of the song.

Warning: This story is the first of a two-part series. It will contain some biblical and religious references/undertones; however, not nearly as many as the sequel. It is not meant to offend, but if you are offended by references to Catholicism, Christianity, demons, or angels, then this is probably not the story for you.

xoxoxoxox

I’ll be your angel

I’ll be your devil

I’ll make you cry

xoxoxoxox

Angel Attraction

Chapter 1: Dark Nights

xoxoxoxox

“There are no such things as angels! If some divine being was supposedly guarding you from heaven, why aren’t your parents still alive, huh? Angels are just a figment of some overzealous author’s imagination, like Bigfoot or the boogeyman. They do not really exist!”

Ariel flinched at her best friend’s sharp tone. She met Kristy’s exasperated green eyes for a brief second before dropping her gaze to the hands that were twisting nervously in her lap. She couldn’t remember the number of times this exact conversation had taken place between them. Her lifelong friend had never understood her fascination with heaven or, more importantly, with the beings that were rumored to reside in heaven and were assigned to be guardians of those who lived on Earth. Kristy was one of the people Ariel liked to refer to as a “non-believer.” During their years growing up together, the subject had never been an issue, but now that they were both in college, Kristy kept pressuring her to give up her childish fancies and start behaving like an adult. She knew that her best friend was merely trying to help, but Kristy’s harsh words stung deeply nonetheless.

“You have to get over this obsession, Ariel,” Kristy continued, pulling a brush through her thick white-blond hair. “It’s taken over your life. You bring that book with you no matter where we go. It’s starting to seriously creep me out.”

Ariel offered no response, stilling the anxious motion her hands and turning her eyes to stare out the window beside her desk.

The night was dark and wind-swept. Viscous clouds were forming in the sky, threatening rain, and the walkways of the sprawling campus on which she and Kristy resided were eerily empty. It was Friday night, universally known as party night on college campuses throughout the country, and usually that meant that the walkways and streets would be teeming with drunken students and visitors alike, either returning from, or heading to, a bar or frat party. Even as they spoke, Kristy was preparing for a night of heavy clubbing with the German student she’d recently struck up an acquaintance with. But despite the fact that neither wind nor rain could stop a truly devoted partygoer, the streets were deserted. It all had the sinister feel of a Stephen King novel. Perhaps all of the other students had vanished, or been abducted by some supernatural enemy, and only she and Kristy remained. Perhaps they would have to battle for their lives until sunrise and—

“Are you even listening to me, Ariel?!”

Kristy’s annoyed voice snapped her out of her reverie and she met her friend’s gaze with a sheepish grin.

“Listen, Ari,” Kristy went on in a slightly gentler tone, setting the brush down and walking over to put a comforting arm around Ariel’s shoulders. “You know I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything. I just worry, that’s all. It feels like you’re putting your life on hold for a dream that will never come true. You never want to go out, you hardly eat, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s gotten worse lately. It always gets worse around Christmas time…”

Pulling away from Kristy’s grasp, Ariel stood and moved over to her bed, flopping down on top of a pile of mussed quilts and staring dimly at the ceiling. She heard her best friend sigh softly and felt the weight of Kristy’s gaze upon her face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“I’m sure,” Ariel replied quietly. She was in no mood to accompany Kristy and Jens to some loud, smoke-filled club. The last time she had gone with she had been forced to endure music at eardrum shattering levels and the drunken groping of one of the foreign guys in Jens’ group. She’d left the club angry, with a migraine pounding in her temples and her clothes smelling like an ashtray. The entire experience had not been her idea of fun. She’d much rather stay in their dorm room and read a book.

With a slow nod and another sigh, Kristy gathered her jacket and purse and left, the heels of her boots thudding dully on the wooden floor of the hallway.

Ariel allowed her eyes to drift shut, feeling the pinprick of tears behind her closed eyelids. ‘A dream that will never come true…’

Blindly, she reached a hand down to the floor and felt around until her fingers closed around the leather spine of her favorite book. She lifted it carefully, tracing the engraved letters with a tenderness most people would reserve for something more precious than an ancient book with fading ink and yellowed pages.

Opening the book, she flipped to the page number she had memorized long ago. Page thirty-three.

She touched the picture inside gently, keeping her eyes tightly shut. She no longer had any need to look at it. Every vivid detail had long ago been committed to her memory.

It was a painting of an angel with wild red hair that ranged from the dark crimson of blood to the bright scarlet of holly berries and every color in between, from the red-brown color of rust to the rich orangey-gold color of the sky at sunset. The angel looked so very sad, as if there were a world of suffering, ages of agony, behind the beautiful façade. The eyes, crystal blue and lovely, stood out in stark contrast to the pale whiteness of the angel’s skin. Gorgeous ivory wings flared out behind him, the occasional stray feather drifting lazily to the pile that had already formed around the angel’s feet. He was dressed in pure white robes and was extending a hand forward in silent invitation, as if beckoning Ariel forward.

She had found the book in her grandmother’s attic when she was seven years old. It was titled Angels: A History of Heavenly Creatures, but, strangely enough, it had no author listed. It contained over three-hundred pages of small, old English text and illustrations. Ariel had painstakingly read through it over twenty times since taking it into her possession, but the chapter that drew her the most was the third, the first page of which contained the painting she adored above all the others. She could not explain her fascination with the angel. Perhaps it was his melancholy expression or his almost haunting beauty. There was simply something about him that attracted Ariel, something she could not name or place.

Those icy sapphire eyes plagued her dreams, along with a whispered voice she could not recognize. The angel seemed uncannily familiar, although Ariel was certain she had never met anyone who even remotely resembled him in her lifetime. A face like that she would never forget, no matter how much time had passed. Besides, most of her family members had seen the painting at various points before their deaths and one of them would have surely mentioned the angel’s resemblance to someone they knew, had that unlikely event been the case.

Kristy knew the reason for the sadness that often overtook Ariel’s cheerful personality as the holiday season approached. Her entire family had died in a brutal fire only days before Christmas when Ariel was fifteen. Ariel had been spared only because of a last minute decision to celebrate her birthday with Kristy’s family before they left to visit their relatives in Canada for the New Year.

News of the fire had reached them in the middle of the night. The flames had been intense and spread with a speed that allowed no room for escape. To this day, the cause of the blaze remained a mystery. All Ariel knew was that her entire family—her parents, grandmother, and baby sister—had been taken from her in one fateful night.

Grief had taken on a whole new meaning after that. Ariel had been devastated. Thankfully, Kristy’s family had cancelled their trip and assisted with the funeral arrangements. Ariel would never have been able to do it on her own. Raw, aching despair had consumed her, nearly driving her mad. It had taken her months before she could even smile again.

Fortunately, Kristy’s parents had also taken Ariel in, legally adopting her and accepting her into their family as one of their own. They had raised her with love and support until she’d been old enough to step out into the world on her own, and she was immensely grateful to them both. Even now that she and Kristy were in their second year at the university, they were still involved in her life, offering affection and advice. She was lucky to have them. If it hadn’t been for Jimmy and Sue, she would have become a ward of the state and been forced to live with strangers. The very idea of it had been horrifying.

The book and the changes of clothing she’d taken with to Kristy’s house were all that remained of her personal possessions after the fire ravaged her home. She’d had to build a new life from scratch. The book had always provided some level of comfort, though, soothing her inner sadness, quieting the tremulous emotions that raged beneath the light-hearted exterior she presented to the world. She had thought on more than one occasion that it had been the only thing to keep her sane.

After all of the years, living as both friends and sisters, she and Kristy remained close. But while there were many things that drew them together in friendship, there were also many differences in their personalities. Kristy was bold and daring. She always spoke her mind and she flirted outrageously with any good-looking man she came across. She was elegant and poised and beautiful…and possessed all of the other qualities that Ariel lacked. Kristy was like a vivid, elaborate oil painting while Ariel was like a simple watercolor. To say that she thought she faded in comparison to her friend would have been an understatement.

Kristy’s hair was a chic, natural, platinum blond that fell to her waist like a thick, sleek curtain. Ariel’s hair was brown and wavy and tended to get frizzy at the slightest hint of humidity. Kristy had eyes the deep green color of oak leaves, while Ariel’s were the same plain brown shade as her hair. Kristy was tall and curvaceous with model legs that went for miles, while Ariel was short, barely hitting five-two, and had no curves to speak of. They were like night and day, both physically and mentally, and yet somehow they’d formed an ironclad bond in the second grade that could never be severed. Sometimes it puzzled Ariel to no end.

Ariel was a self-confessed bookworm and movie geek. She loved to read, to get lost in the pages of a book and feel like she was caught up in, or part of, the story. Her favorite activity other than reading was running, which she did diligently for five miles at six o’clock every morning. Kristy read only enough of her textbooks to pass her exams, and claimed that the only physical activity she enjoyed was the full bodily contact, one-on-one experience that occurred between the sheets.

In that respect, Ariel was woefully inexperienced…but she didn’t mind. She was secretly waiting for her true love anyway, a fact that she hid from Kristy. She just didn’t see the point or appeal of immersing herself in a bunch of meaningless relationships and sexual encounters beforehand. Though, her main reason for concealing this from Kristy had more to do with the fact that the mental image of her true love was auburn-haired, blue-eyed, and heartbreakingly beautiful than the fact that she thought Kristy would fail to understand her sentiments.

As the floor practically trembled from the pulsing bass of a stereo that had just been turned on in the room directly below her, Ariel’s eyes fluttered open and she sat up in bed, almost grateful for the interruption. Setting the book aside, she reached for the sweatshirt that had been draped over the back of her desk chair and shrugged into it. The atmosphere outside was cold and dismal, but she was suddenly itching for a run. Thoughts of her family had left her feeling sad and restless and she knew from experience that the brisk air would help clear her head.

Grabbing her keys, she switched off the light and left the room. She opted for the stairs instead of the elevator and descended them quickly, stepping out into the cool, pitch-black night. The wind blew fiercely, scattering dried leaves across the sidewalks, but somehow the area felt unnaturally still and quiet.

Ariel shivered slightly, feeling chilled. She cast an anxious glance around the trees as she stretched briefly. The walkways were deserted, and she hadn’t encountered any other students on her way downstairs, and yet she had the distinct feeling of being watched.

Pushing the uneasy feeling away, she began to jog slowly, gaze darting to the left, then to the right, as she started down the middle walkway. She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder as the clicking of heels sounded on the pavement behind her and a giggle wafted toward her on the cold breeze. Her mind was just playing tricks on her, that was all. There was no reason to be scared. She had probably walked this path in the dark more than a hundred times.

The sounds grew steadily louder, approaching rapidly, and Ariel felt her body stiffen and her steps slow despite herself.

Suddenly, two laughing, scantily clad girls rushed passed her and she jumped slightly, cheeks flaming. They ran on, completely oblivious, and Ariel shook her head, lips curved in a self-deprecating grin. She felt like an idiot. Like a paranoid, jumpy idiot.

Sighing, she started to jog again. She liked to warm up this way, to get her heart rate elevated before she broke into a full-out run. Anytime she strayed from her routine, she got winded and tired much too early. She couldn’t remember how often she’d run down this same path at night, particularly when she was feeling stressed or depressed. By the time she had circled back to the dorm, she would be far too exhausted and sore to think about anything but a hot shower and a nap. But it would be a pleasant soreness, a sensation that made her feel as if she’d actually accomplished something.

Tonight was different, though. Ominous. As she jogged down the walkway, she couldn’t shake the feeling that a sort of false calm hung in the air, as if predicting some unforeseen doom. The proverbial calm before the storm.

As if in response to her thoughts, lightening flashed overhead and thunder rumbled, shaking the very earth beneath her feet. And, suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, the streetlights flickered once, then died, and Ariel found herself stumbling to a halt as the walkway was plunged into thick, all-encompassing black.

xoxoxoxoxox

For several long minutes, Ariel stood stock-still, eyes wide as she tried to make out the various shapes in the inky blackness ahead of her.

The wind had picked up and the sting of cold raindrops registered against the skin of her cheeks as she tried to force her breathing back into its normal rhythm.

Someone’s out there, she thought with a startling amount of certainty. Someone’s watching me. I can feel it.

Nervously, she took a slow step backward, then froze in place as a footstep sounded ahead of her.

“Who’s there?” she demanded shakily, giving into the instinct to take another step back.

Calm down, her brain told her fiercely. You can outrun the majority of the people on this campus. Besides, it’s probably just another student who’s just as scared as you are. There’s no need to—

A startled yelp escaped her lips and all coherent thought fled her mind as her back came into contact with a hard chest and strong hands settled tightly around her waist, stilling her movements.

“L-Let go of m-me!” she stammered, wrenching away from the firm grip, somewhat surprised that she managed to free herself so easily.

She spun around to face the tall, broad shape that loomed behind her, feeling her heart clench in her chest. The man—for she could tell that much in the darkness—made no attempt to move closer or grab her again. He simply stood there, silent and watchful. “Who…who are you?”

Lightening flashed once more and the streetlamps flared back to life unexpectedly as rain began to pelt down in ferocious, needle-sting drops.

The figure before her was immediately bathed in a warm, orange-yellow glow, and Ariel blinked stupidly, feeling her mouth drop open in shock. She knew she probably looked like a complete moron, standing there with her mouth agape as icy cold water dribbled down her chin, but she couldn’t move or tear her gaze away. Her feet felt rooted in place and her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. It was impossible. Maybe she’d finally gone crazy…or maybe this was just a dream and she was still lying on her messy bed in her dorm room.

But it felt real.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered when she finally found her voice. “It’s you…”