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The creature stared at him with creepy single-minded intent, barely glancing away as Bobby slumped to the floor.
“Don’t be frightened,” it said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Yeah?” Gabriel felt behind him and got ahold of the knife. “What’d you do to Bobby, then?” Worry and fear barely hid behind his words.
“He’s fine,” it said dismissively, looking away from him for half a second. Gabriel took the opportunity and lunged forward, stabbing it with the knife.
The creature looked back at him, making an incredulous irritated expression. It reached up and pulled out the knife, offering it back to him.
Gabriel took it. “What are you?” he asked, unintentionally quiet.
“I’m an angel,” the creature said gently. “You can call me Sam.”
Gabriel thought of his father, drunk and shaking and frail, holding him a little too tightly one night and reading the name of angel after angel, telling him that their mother had believed in them, and they should learn them, see if their mother’s angels would ever help them, as if they actually existed…Gabriel had been very quiet that night. “Really,” he said, brushing back the memories. “An angel named Sam.”
“My name is actually Samuel,” it said calmly, not seeming to notice him sarcasm. “I thought I might seem more approachable if I had a human name for you to use.” It—he?—took a step towards Gabriel. “We have work for you, Gabriel.”
He laughed then, years of bitterness over the idea of angels welling up in him. “Yeah, right,” he snorted. “The angels want me to help them. Try again. Also, Samuel is still a human name, idiot.”
The creature frowned at him, ignoring the remark about his naming abilities. “You don’t think you’re worthy of our attention? Believe me, Gabriel, you are deserving of far better than what you’ve had.” The lights flickered. Wings spread from the creature’s back, towering and greyish brown—or maybe they were only shadows against the walls, but it didn’t really matter, did it, not when they were huge and glorious and intimidating. Then Gabriel blinked and the wings vanished.
He had to work for a moment to find his voice. “Compensating for something?”