The tip of the blade’s sword dragged across the ground with a low scraping noise, metal to concentrate. Sara looked at the arena in a boredom tone, her eyes gazing up at the long rectangle windows, heroes and angels staring down at her.

The night before made her anxious. She was childish in front of Lucifer, not representing her father well and she had shouted Michael as her father, which Michael ordered her not to, but she made herself a fool in front of the villains which concerned her the most. Not a good impression at all. No doubt, the night was successful to some extent, no one was killed, but her father was hurt...by Sal.

Sara hadn’t practiced in two weeks of training. She flexed her muscles, not to show off, but to ease herself into her fighting mood. Her heart beat a little faster than she wanted to. The pressure was on. Her father was expecting her not to make many mistakes—the heroes were expecting no mistakes.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting back to three. She twirled the sword around as if it was a pencil, calculating what her moves would be. One of the reasons why she was Michael’s best assassin—was not only because Michael trained her personality, but her moves were always unpredictable. Even her father had a hard time with what she would do next.

The training will help her get the tension out of her and practicing never hurt. She stopped in the middle of the arena, feeling the familiar weight on the other end of her hand. Two weeks of no training made her jittery. She kept moving from one foot to the other, her blood running with excitement. She was going to please everyone in this room, including herself.

She nodded, not even looking at her father, who probably had his finger on the button to start the session.

She couldn’t have Sal be a distraction right now. Michael had scorned her when they came home from Lucifer’s castle. She had to please her father. She hated when her father was upset, especially at her.

She did a slow glance at her father’s blank face.

He used it as a distraction. Illusions were appearing out of nowhere with no warning. Sara gritted down her teeth. Damn it. Apparently, her father was still upset by her show from yesterday night. Usually, he g

gave a warning, a head nod at her, or the sound of a gun that meant training was in session. But this time, it was a silent warning from Michael.

She would hate to know what Michael's reaction would be if she started to make mistakes this early in the game.

The illusions jumped on her. It wasn’t just the normal robotic demons that mocked their powers, but all sorts of monsters. Her blood would’ve started to drum through her, but she was scared. Her father was angry and she was scared to mess up.

Sara wanted to drop her sword and start to cry. No apparent reason. She couldn’t help to quickly glance at her audience and saw Daniel, nod and encourage her. He could read her like a book.

Sara nodded back and yanked another sword from her sleuth, swirling both her swords in her hands and dove into the mass of monsters. She whirled in the air around into the frantic clawing, not missing a beat, her arms raised as she angrily slashed one of her blades across necks as blood gushed out, and the other blade chopped out heads. Her feet landed back on the flooring with a soft thump. She was already quickening her pace, clashing her sword against a bullet flying to her head, but blocked it with ease, the bullet clanging to the ground.

Another bullet rocketed towards her, but she jerked her head completely backward; keeping her balance perfectly still, seeing the bullet fly right above her eyes. The bullet slammed against the illusion behind her. Sara felt a blade shifting to her neck level and she collapsed to the ground, grabbing the bullet that had fallen to the ground seconds ago and flickered it hard to the illusion of who had the dagger, and it shot up into its head. She rolled quickly to the side as a sword was about to pierce her skull came down and yanked herself up, chopping the robotic person’s head with determined eyes.

She whirled around and saw a glance of bullets flying toward her with amazing speed and certainty. She saw bullets coming her way, impressed by how the illusions were, but as she looked up: Kate was grinning back at her, her gun cocked to her best friend.

Sara frowned inside her mind. Her father gave her a challenge. Or did Kate do this to surprise her?

She wasn’t expecting this. Kate caught her off guard and two bullets pierced her and grimaced back, feeling pain spreading through her. Shit.

Kate wasn’t letting on easy with her. She motioned her head to Sara in respect and started to shoot. She knew her friend caught her off and this was her opportunity to show herself off to the best assassin in the house. To show off to Michael.

Sara knew this was a test. From her best friend and her father. She felt tons of bricks fall on her shoulders, but she wasn’t sure if that was from the bullets hitting one of her shoulders.

The bullets zoomed towards her in slow motion, as if she was about to die.

She couldn’t help but felt anger and frustration prickle at her nerves. Red flashed in her eyes and she felt herself get a headache. She stumped back in surprise, but she could lose herself now. It was bad timing. Her breathing was harsh and then cuffs started to crackle alive on her waists. She stared up at Kate with glowing eyes at her...it was a threat.

Katerina saw her best friend, Sara fight with passion. It was clear that she was showing off—but not to her fullest extent, Kate noted. She knew that this was mainly for Michael, and she saw the Archangel nod with approval, although the cool moves didn’t do much for him.

It did a lot for Kate. Jealously crept inside of her. She saw Sara move with amazing speed, thinking up moves on the way without much thought. The bullet shooting towards Sara's face and as she yanked her head back as if she did it countless before, was a new move Kate saw from Sara. And Kate, when she always watched her friend fight, watched for a pattern in Sara’s graceful but calculated moves.

She couldn’t find one.

Kate frowned and saw how Sara's full attention was to impress Michael and finish the illusions off. Without much thought, Kate started to dash to her feet, heroes and angels moving out of her way. She thrust out her gun and felt the heavy load of it.

She looked at Michael hurriedly. He knew what she was doing. He would accept it, a harder challenge for Sara. He nodded. Kate turned off her safety and let the bullets fly out of her gun as she aimed at her best friend with a grin.

When she saw Sara’s slightly shocked face, she knew that she had come as an element of surprise. Maybe for once, she could defeat Sara. How many years had it been now? Only three years, but it felt like ages ago. When Sara turned twelve, she became more serious with her fighting and it was clear that was talented...sometimes it was suspiciously talented that worried her.

The newcomer of bullets for Sara was not as surprised when Sara glared at her with glowing red eyes. Kate took a step back. This wasn’t nervousness stepping back, it was horror. Her blood went cold and her face drained from its usual happy state.

She pissed off her friend...and not just pissed off, angered her. Sara usually didn’t get angry like this. Kate had caught off her guard before, many times. This wasn’t Kate’s first redo from doing a surprise element on this stage with Sara fighting.

The eyes flashed back to normal. The stumble from Sara worried Kate with trouble.

Everything went back to normal too fast. Sara’s cuffs appeared and she slammed them together. Kate and the bullets flew across the room. She smacked against the wall and felt her back stiff with shock. Two bullets slammed against her, one on her leg, the other shot in her rips. She collapsed to the ground, her mind whirling with what just happened. She didn’t have time to just pause and reflect on what happened.

Sara was unpredictable.

Kate shoot her eyes up and let her body lurch up...She still had her hand grasped on her steel-cut gun and shoot off rounds, barely feeling the pain coursing through her. She wobbled on her feet as she stared at the bullet going across the room. She had been trained to ignore pain during the fighting.

Sara connected Kate’s eyes. Hurt flattered through her eyes and she clumsily, slowly went sideways. The bullet hit her right shoulder. Sara’s shoulder flinched back. She dropped her knees, her eyes begging at Kate’s. As if she was apologizing.

Kate looked back at her. Her friend was playing with her. She didn’t accidentally let that bullet get to her, she purposely sided her body in slow-motion to let that bullet jam into her.

Sara doesn’t make mistakes like that.

Kate gritted her teeth. The look from Sara was begging and full of terror. But the grin slowly spreading across her face said the opposite. Kate wasn’t going to let her friend win this fight. She would dominate over her. It was her time to shine. She raised her gun and pressed the trigger many times, her accurate shot on point.

Bullets zoomed in the air, ready to conclude against soft flesh.

Sara lazily glanced at them as if they were annoying bugs. Then she right herself up in a stand in a moment’s beat. Her eyes sparkling gold this time and her body shifty zoomed between the bullets that were headed at her. Kate cocked her gun higher, and shoot out another bullet towards Sara’s chest plate that would barely mess the heart, but Sara quickly did a twirl sideways, dodging the bullet and slammed Kate against the wall, yanking the gun to the floor. Not gentle at all.

But Kate knew fighting against enemies was no better.

Kate gave a fist and tried connecting her fist to her friend’s neck, but a dagger pointed at Kate’s neck.

Both of the friends glared at each other, breathing hard from their exercise. Sara’s golden eyes slowly went coal black. She scoffed as if this was easy, “That was fun.”

Kate couldn’t help but smile weakly. It was fun, but it was too damn scary at the same time. Sara hadn’t been this aggressive in a long time. Kate asked, feeling their cold and hot bodies touch. Sara’s legs against Kate’s body to stop movement and the other free hand pinning the two arms. “Why didn’t you go easy on me?” her breathing getting somewhat lighter.

Sara cocked her head to her best friend, “I did go easy on you.”

Kate’s jaw locked. Her friend wasn’t lying. Sara preyed herself away from her. It was obvious who won that fight. Kate didn’t even have to respond, “I yield.” That was the code for all the heroes that the other side had won.

Kate winced as she started to walk. She inhaled and let her fingers slide through her body and slowly get the bullet from her ribs. She felt her face flush as heroes and angels watched her.

Michael appeared in front of her and hushed, “Here, stay still.” He insert his fingers carefully and took out the bullet in her shoulder, letting them drop to the floor. Kate stared at him thankfully. Michael touched Kate’s shoulder tenderly, “You did well.”

Kate smiled with Michael’s gentle smile. Her body started to heal from Michael’s powers, his eyes glowing slightly. He leaned in, “You get there eventually.” He winked at her and turned to his daughter, “Alright Sara, let’s go into my office. I’ll fix you up.”

Sara looked at him, sadly. “Did I do okay?”

Kate stared at her friend and boss. She saw Michael tuck the strands of Sara’s wavy black hair behind her ear, “You did fantastically. There is some stuff to work on...like not being so dramatic. No need to be doing that when you are fighting.”

Sara lowered her eyes, glancing at Kate, who looked back at her. She was just having fun. Nothing personal. But Kate knew she had made it personal. She not just wanted to impress herself and the audience, but more importantly...Michael himself.

She grunted in frustration quietly and walked away.

***

“Sit,” Michael ordered his daughter, patting his hand on his desk.

Sara slid up on the desk, blood coating her.

Michael said, “I’m going to get a new t-shirt and some medical supplies. Wait.” He was guided out of his office and closed the door softly.

Sara stayed sat on the desk, swinging her legs. She could her feelings mixing in her stomach and her mind geared for the worst. Michael did tell her she did well, but why did she feel bad? That stunt she pulled off her friend wasn’t nice and she knew it. She gripped the desk. She wasn’t being a good friend, but she couldn’t let Kate win.

I should let her win sometimes. But would that make her madder at me?

She glanced up to see Sal grinning back at her, “I love when I see you fighting like that. It is something to behold.”

Sara glanced down at the flooring, “Leave me alone.” She didn’t see him at all when she was fighting, but she could sense him there and she had been shaking the feeling, ignoring it.

Sal walked closer to her, examining her body, “Hmm, your father will clean you up nicely, like he always does.” He smiled, “You should let me help you next time.”

Sara spat, “I said, leave me alone!”

Sal shook his head, pacing around the office now, “Why should I? When it’s so fun to tease you like this. Look at you, a bloody mess, and someone how, you still look hot as shit.”

Sara blushed. His voice didn’t matter. She saw his casual sneakers appear in her view and before she could look at him, she felt a fingertip at her chin, pulling it up. Sal’s black eyes stared at her. “Maybe you should try fighting me next time.”

The teenager glared at him and bit down on her lips, “I said leave me alone.”

Sal trickled his finger down her face, “But you’re so lovely.”

Sara gripped her head. He was fake. He wasn’t real. Even though she could feel him, he wasn’t real. She squeezed her eyes shut, “Leave me alone!” She felt a bad headache coming.

The door opened and Michael stared at her, “Sara, you’re okay?” He was holding her shirt and a pair of tweezers inside a glass bowl.

Sara frowned, but nodded slowly, “Yeah.” Sal had vanished from where he was. Nowhere in sight. Sara sighed a relief in her head.

Michael closed the door behind him. Sara yanked off her shirt, sitting there in her bra and leggings. She put her arms on the table, steadying herself for bullets to be picked out of her. Michael put her shirt down and started to do the job.

Silence overtook them for a few long minutes, Sara not even flinching once.

On the last pull of the bullet, Michael asked, as casually as he could, “Sara, the glowing of the eyes. Why were you mad?”

Sara cast her eyes away, “I wanted to impress you.”

Michael put the last bullet in the bowl with a clang and cast the tweezers aside. He kissed her forehead, healing her body. That wasn’t the answer he wanted.

Sara stated, “I knew you were still mad at me,” she crossed her arms tightly across her chest, “And I wanted to make you happy,” She was still looking at the glossy glass wall, awaiting his response.

Michael leaned back on his desk, looking at her, “You don’t ever need to impress me.”

Sara’s eyes stung, “I failed when you asked me to not say you were my father and I was a fool at your brother’s house.”

Michael agreed, “You were.”

She turned at him, surprised that he answered with a straightforward truth, “I’m sorry.”

The Archangel handed her the shirt, “Lesson learned, you won’t do it again.”

“You sound cold to me,” muttered Sara, slipping the shirt on her, looking down at the icon, which said: I’m His Favorite. Sara frowned, did this mean that she was his favorite, or was he talking about God?

Sara’s father jumped up and sat down on the desk next to her, “I’m not cold of what happened recently...well, you could say it has happened recently, but not what you are thinking.” He sighed and grabbed her head and made her turn to him, “Sara, are you hallucinating him again?”

Sara gripped harder on the desk, her nails dug onto the surface, “Dad,” she started and she saw him narrow his eyes waiting for her question, waiting for the excuse she was about to outright say. The excuse she always gave him. “I don’t want to worry you. It’s nothing.”

Michael sighed out his frustration and then stood up. He stared at her and started to walk around the room. Sara groaned and tilted her up in such a dramatic tone, “Not another speech. I know you are going to say… ‘Sara, you’re my daughter. You’re my responsibility, I love you. I’m supposed to worry over you, blah blah blah.” She rolled her eyes, “Please, spare both of us.”

Michael stood in front of her, his arms folded across his chest, his golden eyes dull from his worried eyes, “Then give me a different speech that will make you listen to my concerns.” He tapped his foot on the wooden white planks, waiting for her answer.

Sara pressed her lips and jumped down from the desk. “Don’t worry about me. I am the one who doesn’t need the saving, the world does.” She stopped in her tracks, gazing up at her father’s worried, concerned eyes.

Michael knew this would happen. They always go on this loop over and over again. It was getting tiring. And they both knew she was lying, dodging the questions he asked over and over again. He didn’t want to go this route, but she gave him no choice.

Sara started to head to the door but Michael stepped in front of her, relaxing his arms to his side, not trying to appear mad at her, “Sara, look at me.”

Sara stared at her father’s eyes.

“Did he hit me last night?”

Sara gave a confused look and then understood. Did Sal hit him? Sara went flushed, “Dad.”

“So, that’s a yes,” said Michael, studying her broken face.

Sara’s voice cracked, “He told me to hurt Lucifer. And I didn’t do what he wanted and he got mad at me! He wanted to punish me.” Wet tears came down her pale face and Michael cupped her delicate features. He pulled her cold body to him, feeling her head bury into his chest, sobbing, “I’m sorry.”

“Sara, I’m here for you,” hushed Michael, “It wasn’t your fault.” He brushed his hand down her silk hair. He knew something was wrong but didn’t know how to prevent what was happening. He and his angels, plus licensed warlocks had examined every aspect of her brain and body and found nothing wrong. Some warlocks went into her mind and tried to see what she did, but not once, not the angels, warlocks, and

Michael himself could find anything wrong.

But Michael knew in his heart, that Sara wouldn’t deceive him like this. She wouldn’t do this for attention. However, it made him question her insanity. Like countless years and times, he ran through his head to find if somehow anything traumatic happened to her. He had asked her, but she shook her head.

He had gone through so many possibilities: Traumatic events, a curse cast on her, depression...but he knew how the brain worked. It was mysterious. He understand most of what the brain could do, but again God was omnipotent.

Sara’s voice rang in his head, God can do whatever the fuck He wants.

You’re right, darling. He can do whatever He pleases. Michael answered back. But why, are you struggling so much? Why are you seeing this man that I can’t even find? Why does it have to be you, daughter?

He could feel her heart pound against him. Sara whispered back to him, “Then why do I feel like it’s my fault?” Her voice was tight, straining from trying not to cry once again.

Michael closed his eyes, feeling his warmth against her fragile, but agile body, “Don’t listen to those negative voices.”

“But it’s not voiced, it’s just a voice,” debated Sara.

Michael looked down at her with a smirk, here she was yet playing this game, trying to correct him like a typical teenager, “Everyone, even me, has a voice that says negative shit. I meant that. And you mean of him.” The Archangel wished so much he could see what Sara saw. He hugged her tighter, protectively. He hated that a man was beating his daughter up. Anyone who does that was an immediate enemy to him. He hated, even more, the fact that this enemy was invisible to him...and there was nothing he could do about it.

He wanted to push more on why she hadn’t been telling him this, but he knew she was on the verge of tears again. So, he stood there, comforting her.