As my wings unfurled, I gaped and looked at Lincoln. He was smirking.
"I told you I was telling the truth." He said, letting his own wings unfurl. His wings were white, with tips of red at the edges. Mine were white with lines of gold and silver everywhere at the top.
"What's up with the other colors besides the white?" I asked him. He shrugged.
"When you take on your first task as an angel, then God will call you up to heaven to congratulate you, and make sure you want to become angel. If you choose to become one, he will tell you what the colors on your wings mean." He said. I couldn't believe this. Me, Ember Jennings an angel. My boyfriend Lincoln Welch an angel.
"What does the red on your wings mean?" I asked him.
"Battles. Blood is red. When angels get in battles with demons, there is always blood everywhere. "
"So...what does that mean?" I asked him.
"That I will be in many battles." He said. I cracked a smile.
"You sound a bit like a palm reader," I told him. I closed my eyes and pressed my pointer and index fingers on each hand and pressed them to my temples on my forehead. "You will be in many battles." I repeated in an ominous tone. He laughed.
I remembered the moment when Lincoln and I had that conversation clearly; angels have perfect recall. Doing the normal things I did back then seemed absurd after all that I've been through. But I still would give anything to be where I am now. Having all of this happen, has taught me one thing. You don't have to swim, but you need to tread water so you don't drown. All you can do is survive. Endure. Not give up. Keep going. And that is exactly what I'm doing. I could quit on it all and go back to how it was, I've been given many chances to. But I can't. Not after how many people I've seen that need me. Me. Not after I've seen how much I can help. So, if I die now, it will be to help hundreds of people. Before I let my red mist flow out of me and incapacitate those around me, I prayed to God that at least Lincoln would live through this.