He named himself Levi Jonas, after the two lives he could remember the best. They had both died tragically, Adam Levi the victim of a hit-and-run and Frank Jonas stabbed by a spooked thief. From Adam, he got his soft heart, his gentle smile. From Frank, he gained unflinching bravery and a fierce sense of justice. He carried scars from both.

Subconsciously he scrubbed a hand over the knife wound between his ribs. It was gone, now, a raised lash of tissue the only reminder of an agony so sudden and terrible that he still woke up some nights soaked with sweat. Other nights he saw headlights blazing toward him out of the dark, felt his bones snapping like twigs.

Sleep was always difficult.

Crouching on the corner of a snow-capped fire escape Levi squinted down into the alley. While it was fairly early in the evening, there was always someone in danger, somebody somewhere who needed help. Everything was quiet, the twilight closing in slow and tight around him. He tilted his head to listen closer. A stray cat meowed, a dog barked, a car horn blatted. Not unusual sounds, not in a city. Even the distant wail of sirens was normal. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean all was well. It often meant the opposite.

Levi sucked in a breath, feeling the cold burn his lungs, and kicked off. The second his feet left solid ground, his wings burst from his coat, spreading and flaring so white it hurt the eyes. He swooped and began his climb, swiftly escaping the narrow avenue between the apartments, sailing at a comfortable altitude where he could still make out details on the streets below. He was focused on the people, looking for subtle signs of distress. If one of those walkers happened to look up, they would have seen a grey winter sky. He was hidden well.

Angels could cloak themselves at will, which allowed them to move undetected through heavily populated areas. The cloak did not work on other angels or non-humans. Levi had never seen another angel, not since his birth, and had long ago made peace with being the last.

He rode a warm air current higher as he banked toward the financial district; the lights of the buildings were too bright to look at directly and made surveillance problematic. He was eventually forced to lose height, landing lightly on the roof of a taxi cab. He fondly remembered being a cabbie, although he knew those memories were Frank’s and not his. Even so, Levi held a special place in his heart for the yellow ones.

Still cloaked, he dropped to the hood and then into the street, careful to avoid any oncoming traffic. His—Adam’s—memories of being run over were still very fresh. While he was invisible, he could still get hit. At the thought his stomach cramped, but he shook it off and bounded to the sidewalk.

Still nothing. No sense of panic, no quickened pulse. His empathic powers were incredibly attuned, but they weren’t detecting anything in the area. The knot of tension between his shoulders eased and he relaxed. Levi ducked behind a newsstand and dropped his camouflage, stepping out from behind it into the flow of people.

Today had been a rather productive day for one, Reyna Lacross a productive day she was pleasantly surprised went so well. She was afriad the snow from late last night would hinder her art group's progress on a wall mural they had been working on. Luckily, the wall hadn't iced over, and the snow was shallow enough that it wouldn't interfere with any part of the piece. They were actually able to finish the mural, and for that, Reyna was thrilled.

With a pleased smile gracing her lips, she walked casually with the crowd of people moving in single file down the street, marvelling at the beauty of the city's night life as it emerged with the setting sun. Being the art student that she was, Reyna had an acute taste for most everything visual and found that the things around her had their own unique style and allure. It was something she had learned on her own growing up in a part of town that wasn't the best place for anyone to live. With the help of her older brother, she was able to hone that skill and was now doing the things she had only dreamed about as a child.

She really needed to call her brother. His birthday was coming up soon, and he had said something last time about coming down for a week.

Reyna continued walking toward a slightly more rural area of town, the crowd thinning until only a small handful of others remained. She recognized a couple she had seen around the housing complex she lived in and struck up a conversation with them until it was time to turn separate ways. Apparently, every Friday was their date night, and tonight they had tried that new sushi bar out on Glendale Street. Despite their mixed reviews, Reyna promised to give it a try before heading toward her more isolated home.

The trees that separated her house from the others in the roomy suburb usually provided a private alcove of sorts from her neighbors, at least in the summer months. It was convenient for when the twin college students on the right decided to have a party or when she decided to have her art group over for a session in her yard. For now, they were just jagged branches that tended to create otherworldly shadows in the right light.

Reyna reached in her shoulder bag for her keys, pausing suddenly when she heard the snap of a branch. She looked around, but was unable to see anything. It was probably a stray cat; she knew of at least one that roamed the complex and jumped around in and out of the trees. She turned once again to her shoulder bag, pulling it up closer to gaze inside. When she pulled out the lanyard that held her keys, one of her cans of spray paint came with it and fell to the concrete slab just before the door, its cap popping off and rolling away.

"Oh! Now how did I manage that?" she questioned herself as she leaned over and picked up the can of paint. The cap would have to be found in the morning; it was too dark and far too cold to stage a search for it now.

As she righted herself, Reyna had the unsettling sense that something was amiss, the hairs on her coat-covered arms raising in alert.

She turned to face her door and reach for the separate lock piece with her keys, instead having a large hand come out and grab her arm roughly. The scream that followed was quickly cut off by an arm covering her mouth, almost effectively pinning her to the man's -she assumed it was a man by the cologne he wore- chest. He was using his strength to keep her locked up, his arm wrapped around her head effectively keeping her from reaching his own to dislodge him.

Instinct took over Reyna then, and with her can of spray paint still in-hand, she maneuvered her arm just so to aim behind her and pushed down on the nozzle hard. The sound of the pressurized product was familiar, though the agonized yelp was more of a comfort at the moment. She twisted hard enough to escape, though it came with the consequence of throwing herself too far to the side. She landed hard on the ground, scrabbling to get up.

She had to get away!

Levi wove through the throng of humans, aware of their emotions in passing. Here, a mother’s love for a child, there, anxiousness for a job. His ears were attuned to the subtlety of feeling and caught each wayward thought as he brushed past the owner. Then, a whiff of something, something that turned his stomach to a ball of ice. He almost stopped mid-stride. His fingers twitched as an electric current of panic rushed through him, and, disregarding the people around him, he exploded in a cloud of white feathers.

For a long moment a stunned ring of people stood where he had been, then they applauded nervously. They figured he was a street magician.

Almost three hundred feet above their puzzled heads, Levi was already jetting off towards the trouble, his heartbeat thudding alongside the woman’s. He knew instinctively it was a woman, and that she was young, and that she was in danger, but more than that he couldn’t say. He murmured a hurried message to her—nothing she would be able to understand, but something to quell the worst of her panic. It’s alright. Don’t be scared. You’re not alone. I’m coming.

An apartment complex loomed in the distance, a great brick affair gummed over with twenty years of grime and poverty. Levi swooped down toward it. Even in the dark, the woman’s fear called to him, showed him exactly where she was. It also showed him her attacker.

The man wrestling with her was wearing a black jogging suit and some kind of knit cap. He was obviously strong and probably weighed at least two hundred pounds, all of it muscle. Levi was about one-seventy, himself, but he had rage on his side. Just as the woman sprayed something in the attacker’s face, Levi crashed into him from above like a thunderbolt. As she shoved away, the man fell back, howling in pain as Levi drilled his fist repeatedly into his paint-stung face. The man was screaming now, yelling obscenities as he tried, blindly, to defend himself. Levi silently thanked the woman and commended her for her quick thinking— she had saved him some injuries.

With a final, brutal punch that snapped the attacker’s head backwards, Levi let out the breath he had been holding. At the same moment, he realized two key things: the woman hadn’t fled, as he thought she had, and his camouflage had faded. She could see him. Thankfully, his wings were tucked safely away, and he looked somewhat normal. With any luck, she was too shaken to wonder where he had come from.

Levi also noticed how pretty she was, her blonde hair glowing like a halo in the murky shadows. Her eyes were blue, late evening sky blue. Undoubtedly a pretty woman. He smiled at her almost before he told himself to. “You okay?”

The plan was simple: tell a bogus story about seeing the attack and trying to help, get the woman inside, call the cops, and take off. His heart stuttered inside him. She was still frightened, which wasn’t good for him. He got off the guy he’d just beaten up and walked to her, careful to move slowly so he didn’t alarm her. Once he was close enough, he crouched beside her. “You got a cell phone? You should call the cops.”

For all the grace she normally had, Reyna was unable to channel that to her bumbling form and instead focused on twisting to face her attacker. It wasn't as good as running off in hopes of finding some help, but it was better than being defenceless with her back to the man. This way, she could attempt to throw a punch or at least beat the guy's head in with her can of spray paint.

What she found upon turning was startling enough to have her freeze to her spot, can of paint held out before her in case things turned for the worst.

The man who had attacked her had been yelling and screaming out profanities, though a small part of her brain had thought it was because of the paint burning his eyes. What she hadn't expected was the sudden quiet of the night to return, nor did she expect to see another man hovering over her now unconscious attacker. He looked to her as if he was surprised over something, though all she could do was stare back with a tremble in her limbs that wasn't from the cold of the frosty night air.

He had such striking eyes....

Reyna jumped when the new man moved closer to her, her paint can, shaking slightly with the shock she was still in, held up higher in case he were to try something. His movements were slow and deliberate, but she wasn't taking any chances of a repeat offense. When he knelt just in front of her, she gave a weak shuffle back to put just a tad more distance between them.

"You got a cell phone? You should call the cops."

He posed a very good idea, calling the cops, but she was reluctant to move from her position. He had saved her, yes, but what if he had beat up the other guy just so he could have a chance at kidnapping her or stealing her bag or even killing her? She watched those crime scene television shows, she knew what situations like this usually entailed.

But if that were the case, wouldn't he have already tried to pull something?

Reyna gave a small, hesitant nod before reaching into her back pocket, other hand still holding the can of spray paint aimed at the stranger, and pulled out her cell phone. She eyed the blinking red light as well as the seven percent battery life that remained and inwardly cursed her forgetfulness; from now on, her phone would go on the charger every night before bed, no exceptions.

There was just enough battery life to call the police and give them general information - her name, her address, and what had happened in a span of five minutes. Luckily, the dispatcher was able to relay an officer who was just three blocks away before her phone gave a warning buzz and shut itself down. For another five minutes, she was stuck with the stranger who had saved her.

"Are...are you new around here?" Reyna asked as she dropped her hold on the paint can and instead kept it to her side, just in case. Since she wasn't in any immediate danger and was relieved with the fact that the cops were just around the corner, she felt a bit calmer, if not still shaken up from all the hubbub. Now that she was able to think more clearly, though, she began to wonder more about the man who had come out of nowhere to her rescue.

"I haven't seen you around before. Are you friends with the Deril twins?"

The young woman was staring at him, her eyes deer-in-headlights wide. It was perfectly normal, considering the situation, and Levi was careful to avoid alarming her further. Each move he made as he approached was deliberate and slow, so she could see what he was doing and wouldn’t feel as threatened by him. She still had the can of spray paint and the last thing he needed was a faceful of it. He’d escaped any real injuries thus far and he intended to keep it that way. Angel or not, he could still feel pain. As if to remind him of this, his old knife wound twinged in the chill night air and he unthinkingly touched it, only to immediately drop his hand before she noticed.

As he closed in on her, she scuttled back, trying to maintain a safe distance. Levi paused about three feet away, respectful of her space and her spray can. With trembling fingers, the woman reached for her phone and he breathed out a sigh of relief as she punched in the emergency number. If he focused, he could hear the dispatcher on the line, a remote, soothing voice that informed the woman that a squad car was nearby and on its way. This knowledge seemed to calm her somewhat, and she lowered the aerosol can. Levi hadn’t been offended by her pointing it at him, just ready to spring out of the way if her finger twitched. People in stressful situations weren’t particularly known for their restraint. Blowing out a breath, Levi mustered a warm smile for her.

He ran a few things to say through his head, finally settling on asking if she wanted him to stay with her until the police arrived. “Hey, you look pretty shook up. Understandably… Would you feel better if I sat with you until the cops get here?” He kept his voice soft and gentle and made constant eye contact with her to show his intentions were good. Then she caught him by surprise. “The Deril twins…? No, sorry… Just an average guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Lying was unfortunately necessary, so Levi was fairly good at it. He knew a good lie was vague but believable and didn’t call attention to itself. The fewer details the better. Unless explicitly asked, he wouldn’t offer more information.

Crouching across from the woman, he looped his arms around his knees. After a beat of silence, he looked over at her again, the same kind smile on his face. “If you’re cold, you can borrow my jacket.” The weather wasn’t cooperating, and while the snow was holding off, the wind was bitterly cold. Levi didn’t worry much about frost bite, not like a human would, so it wouldn’t bother him if she did want his coat. To encourage her, he took it off and offered it, holding it toward her.

Around the corner, there were sounds of a car approaching. More than likely, it was the police the woman had called for and Levi’s job was done. As soon as the cops got close enough, he would disappear, and the young woman would be safe and sound. No muss, no fuss. To that end, he waited until the woman turned her head to look at the police cruiser.

In the space of a breath, Levi was invisible again, his wings unfurling as he got to his feet. Just as he was about to fly away, he paused, and laid his jacket across the woman’s shoulders. Then he kicked up into the black sky in a storm of pure white feathers.

Reyna was only somewhat surprised at the man's answer. The Deril twins were quite popular, so it was one of the first assumptions that came to mind when there was a new face around that Reyna herself didn't know about, especially this late at night. The right place at the right time, he had said...

Well, she was grateful he had shown up when he did, regardless of who he knew or where he had come from. She wasn't completely sure how long she could stay ahead of her attacker if he had continued his pursuit after her.

As they sat there together, Reyna now more comfortable with the company, the blonde gave a slight shiver. All the adrenaline from the attack had worn off, and despite her usually comfortable coat, she could feel the night's cold starting to steep through. The light dusting of snow beneath her bottom and legs wasn't helping anything, either. The man before her was kind enough to offer his own coat, and she was sorely tempted to take him up on the offer.

"I'll be fine, really. Besides, you'll catch your death without your jacket."

Despite her words, the man was persistent, even going so far as to remove his coat and enticingly holding it between them for her to take. She hesitated only a moment before reaching for it. She might as well take his kind offer instead of ignoring it; it would have been rude to do so.

Before she had a chance to touch the material of the offered clothing, Reyna's ears caught the sound of a vehicle approaching. She turned to look down the street, just making out the blinking red and blue lights rounding the corner. There was a siren in the distance, though it wasn't from the police car moving closer to her destination.

Reyna made to turn back around when a light pressure came down upon her shoulders. She glanced to each side and reached up, feeling the soft, warm material of the coat she had just been offered. Curiously, she looked around her, expecting to see the stranger who had come to her rescue standing off to the side. Instead, she was met with the sight of her home to the left and a great pecan tree to the right, the man nowhere to be seen.

"Hello? Hey, where did you...hello?"

A soft groan escaped her attacker as he shifted slightly. Reyna practically jumped out of her skin at the movement and scrabbled to pick up her can of paint and aimed it in his direction. He remained down and thankfully didn't move again, not even when the police finally arrived and tried getting a response out of him. The sirens from before grew closer and closer, and Reyna soon found out that it was an ambulance for the injured, unconscious man who had been beat down by a strange man who had disappeared from sight.

It had already been a long night, but after the necessary questioning and a promise to come into the station tomorrow morning for an official statement, the blonde young woman wanted nothing more than to pass out for the next ten hours. She clutched the borrowed jacket closer to her body as she finally made her way into her home, making sure to lock both locks on the door. She took off both coats, debated what to do with the extra one, and settled on hanging them both where they could dry. Maybe her "Knight in Shining Armor" would be back for his coat. Maybe then she would be able to thank him properly.

The guys in R.A. were not gonna believe this.

~* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Wait, hold up! You tellin' me you sprayed that guy in the eyes? Tha's pretty cool."

Reyna eyed one of the members of her art group, otherwise known as the R.A., with what could have been described as astonishment.

"Really? That whole story, and you focus on the paint, of all things?"

"Tha's what we're here for, yeah?"

"Ignore her," piped in James, one of Reyna's closest friends. He was both equal parts amazed and horrified at the scene she had created with her words, seeing both the good and the bad that had come out of the situation. "We're all just glad you're okay. You should really be at home resting instead of being out here."

"And miss this opportunity to paint a mural for the city's park? Like I would have been able to rest knowing you guys were having all the fun."

There were a few snickers here and there before all was quiet again. Everyone had on excited faces, all eyes focused on Reyna, awaiting for the next plan of action.

For the next three days, her art group would be creating a mural depicting images that would entice ages of young and old to the city's downtown park area. Just last week, several volunteer groups had helped clean up the area and refurbished the playground play areas as well as planted flowers. There was a brick wall off toward the east side of the park that had once been part of some building way back when, surprisingly sturdy despite its years of standing and quite the eye sore. Instead of tearing it down, however, the Renegade Artisans, or R.A. as they were often known as, decided they wanted to contribute to the project by doing what they did best.

"Alright, you guys," Reyna began with a clap of her hands and a bright smile, "let's clean up any loose brick and plan out a basic outline for today. We'll do heavier painting tomorrow; it's supposed to be mostly clear then, so hopefully we won't have any runs in the paint."

As soon as a plan of action was dished out, the members of the R.A. immediately set to work on clearing out any loose bricks or debris that would disturb their work in progress. They had come a long way since first joining, and Reyna was so proud of them for their dedication to each and every project.

Levi rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchenette and began blindly jabbing buttons on the coffeemaker. After a few seconds of punching various combinations, the machine beeped cheerfully and burbled, spitting out a stream of brown liquid that pooled on the counter. Levi stared stupidly at it until he realized he’d forgotten his mug. Fumbling through the cabinets, he knocked four (plastic) glasses to the floor and almost broke the only nice cup he owned: his mug. He jammed it under the weakening stream of coffee just in time for the coffeemaker to turn itself off.

After wrangling a full cup of coffee, he shuffled to the fridge, retrieved a squeeze-tube of yogurt, and ate it at the open window overlooking the fire-escape. His downstairs neighbor was smoking out her window, so the scent of ash quickly wafted inside. Levi squinted unhappily at the onslaught of unpleasant odor and shut the window. He’d forgotten to close it the night before, when he’d returned home from his impromptu rescue of the human woman.

While Levi could feel cold and heat in a similar way to humans, he was much hardier and able to withstand more extreme temperatures without suffering adverse effects. This also allowed him to leave his heating and air conditioning off without being (very) miserable. It didn’t make him any happier about freezing his ass off, though. His toes felt like ice cubes.

He squeezed the rest of his yogurt out of the tube and dug around in the fruit drawer for something else; he probably needed to go grocery shopping, but without a job money was always tight. He had some savings, money made doing odd jobs in the city, and occasionally a bit from one of the people who were a part of him.

The knowledge that he was made up entirely of other souls was disconcerting, in a way: Levi felt he wasn’t a real person. People, real people, were born, they grew up. Levi had spontaneously come into being when hundreds of soul shards combined into a single consciousness; he looked the same now as he had then. He wasn’t the child of loving parents. He didn’t have a family. He hadn’t gone to school. Everything he’d ever known was left over from a human life that was wrapped up inside him. Levi knew how to sing a German folk song because Irma Steinmetz sang it to her grandchildren before she died. He knew how to play Monkey King because Will Edlynd had played it constantly as a child. He knew the streets because Frank Jonas had driven them thousands of times in a checkered yellow cab.

Each soul had ended before its time, crying for help when there was none, searching for safety but finding peril instead. Pieces of the souls, parts that couldn’t pass on without closure, lingered in the physical world, hidden from human eyes. They replayed their pain, over and over and over, unable to escape the harshness of their fates, until something happened.

Something drew the shards together, pulled their frayed and flurried humanity into itself, took their heartache and refashioned it. And in a moment, an angel stepped into the world to live the life the souls had been denied, to be the champion they had needed. Levi had known immediately what he was, who was part of him, and what he was intended for. Before he was even four hours old, he had carried a woman out of the path of a subway train and rescued a toddler from falling out of a broken window. That was his purpose.

He would protect, always protect. Everything he was was for the defense of others.

***

Ronnie Ya raised an eyebrow at Reyna’s story the next day. She hadn’t thought the blonde had it in her, but apparently she’d done it. "Wait, hold up! You tellin' me you sprayed that guy in the eyes? That's pretty cool." She grinned, and shrugged thoughtlessly when Reyna gave her an incredulous look.

"Really? That whole story, and you focus on the paint, of all things?"

"That's what we're here for, yeah?” Ronnie opened her mouth to say more, but got cut off by James, a friend of Reyna’s. He admonished her for coming in after that kind of brush with death and dismissed Ronnie, who yelped an indignant “Hey! I can’t help it paint’s my thing! I went to school for this!” Narrowing her dark eyes at James, Ronnie made a rude gesture he didn’t see and shook up her can of spray paint. Urban art was her specialty, and when she’d been in high school she’d had her own crew of taggers. A couple of the bigger pieces on the sides of bridges had been her work.

Nostalgic, Ronnie began applying a layer of white to outline a design. She was older than Reyna and James and most of the other R.A. members; she’d gotten a degree in art at the local university and when she wasn’t painting buildings she was publicizing her urban art exhibits at whichever museums would take her. With short, spiky black hair tipped in blue, purple-black lipstick, and piercings, Ronnie looked every bit a subversive alternative artist. She had never told anyone, but the piercings were fake and she took them off before she went to bed. She was actually terrified of needles.