"My dear child, it is not an 'injustice,'" he said, picking the word from my thoughts. "It is an honor and a privilege to be matched with souls as beautiful as a Guide holds, and to be given the important task of keeping them safe. No Angel in Heaven would feel otherwise," he said, now looking at the guys with intensity. Both Shawn and Robert nodded their heads instantly in agreement. Mark delayed, almost as if an invisible hand was forcing his actions.

I couldn't blame Mark that much. It seemed grossly unfair and made it all so much clearer why his dad had turned dark. What if Mark someday decided it wasn't worth it?

Mark squeezed my hand. I'm not my dad, he said, finally allowing a thought to slip outside the gate he had erected in his mind. I should have felt relieved from his reassurance, but I felt oddly dejected.

"So, what do we need to do?" Shawn asked, breaking the silence that had settled over our group.

"We start training. Usually it would be up to your parents to help you with the technicalities. That job is now mine," he said.

"What kind of training?" Sam asked intrigued.

"The Protectors must prepare in combat training, while the Guides will learn to filter the emotions of those who need your gifts the most."

"Filter?" I asked puzzled.

"Yes. Your 'emotional gauge' as you refer to it, is better described as an emotional filter. Over the years you have learned to shy away from the emotions of others as a defense mechanism. Your gift requires you to embrace the negative emotions of others and to filter them back, void of the negativity."

"Emotional filters?" Lynn mused next to me, not sounding completely excited about the idea.

I couldn't blame her. The idea of sucking the negative emotions inside of me instead of blocking them made my stomach turn uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?" I asked

"For example, when your Protector was feeling animosity toward me a few minutes ago, you tried to soothe him with your own emotions, thus draining your own energy supply. I will teach you how to filter the same negative emotions without depleting your strength. When you are fully trained, you will learn to use those same negative emotions as an energy source," he said. "We start in the morning."

Lynn groaned beside me, she so was not a morning person. I grinned for the first time since he had shown up.

"So, what do we call you?" I asked, not trying to sound rude, but the idea of calling him Archangel or he the whole time seemed ridiculous.

"I'm Haniel, Prince of the Angelic Order," he said with great importance.

"The grace of God," Sam said in awe after a moment.

"Yes," he answered, looking impressed with her knowledge.

I turned to Sam, surprised.

"I've been obsessed with the whole Angel thing since you guys were held hostage," she said shrugging. "I wanted to be prepared if that 'freak' was right even though I had my doubts."

I wasn't all that surprised that Sam and the others questioned our story. I had heard the tale firsthand and even I harbored my own doubts. But here stood our proof in all seven massive feet of muscle. One thing was certain, God wasn’t messing around when he created his Archangels, if Haniel was any indication of that.

"So, why can't we start training now?" Robert asked, standing and pulling Lynn up in one swooping motion. "Let's get this show on the road. I for, one don't want the girls entering into a situation they're not ready for. If that means we train until we drop from exhaustion so be it."

Mark and Shawn surged to their feet at his words, pulling Sam and me up at the same time. "I agree," Mark said, finally sounding like himself, as he laced his fingers through mine, briefly squeezing them gently, trying to reassure me.

"Very well, we will use God's playground for the training," Haniel said, gesturing toward the vast beach outside the plate glass windows. "I would think all of you might wish to change your garments."

I smiled, looking down at Sam's six inch platform sandals that did great things for her legs, but would be highly impractical for training. Of course, Lynn's scuffed converse sneakers weren't much better.

Sam, Lynn and I scurried off to one of the extra guestrooms in the beach house that Lynn and I were sharing. Mark had offered his dad's room, but none of us felt comfortable being in there. The room seemed to pulsate as if it held the evil essence of the man that had vacated it. Every time I passed the door, I felt the hairs on the back of my upper arms stand up and a chill would race down my spine. For the most part, we all avoided that section of the house and only risked walking by it on our way to the utility room to do laundry.

I tossed Sam an extra pair of cutoff sweats and a St. Briggets t-shirt that I got in the mail back in Montana after I registered. Sam grimaced looking at the shirt, making me giggle.

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny," she said, making a face at me before a brilliant smile crossed her face and a mischievous giggle slipped out. "That's okay, I'll wear this. It'll be nice to see it dirty and trashed."

Lynn sniggered as she headed down the hall with her own change of clothes.

Five minutes later, our group was assembled on the sun-warmed sand. The beach was deserted, which was one of the biggest perks of having your own private beach access. Gone were the sunbathers, screaming kids, and annoying litter. Most nights, all of us would head out to walk on the beach. We usually started off together, but within ten minutes, a half-a-mile would separate us. Sam and Shawn always wound up ahead of the group. Sam would taunt Shawn into chasing her and off they would go, leaving a trail of Sam's laughter behind in their wake. Mark and I were always the stragglers of the group. I was enthralled with the all the shells that washed up on the shore each day. My collection now held court in glass vases Mark had purchased for me.

Haniel joined us shortly after we had assembled. He wore an outfit like I had never seen before. I could only gawk when I looked at him. The clothing looked like it had been tailored just for him, accentuating every lean muscle of his body. Made from material that looked as gauzy as paper streamers you would hang up at a birthday party and giving the impression that the slightest touch would tear them to shreds.

"Wow," Lynn muttered beside Sam and me.

Sam giggled, raising her eyebrows at us both.

"Oh brother," Robert muttered, pulling Lynn closer to him to whisper in her ear.

We couldn't hear what he had whispered, but Lynn gave him a playful slap and placed a quick searing kiss to his lips. It was obvious he was looking for a little reassurance. It was a funny to see cool and collected Robert a little frazzled, he always seemed so put together. Of course he was being ridiculous, as handsome as Haniel was; there was nothing sexually appealing about him. It was like admiring the Sistine Chapel or the Grand Canyon, both spectacular and awe inspiring.

I shot a sideways glance at Mark and saw him studying me as he pulled the thoughts from my mind.

"Not even the slightest sex appeal?" he asked silently.

"Well…," I shot back teasingly as Mark growled and made a quick grab for my wrist. I darted around him using my extra ability to stay just out of his reach. Giggling, I hid behind Shawn, trusting that my brother would protect me. I realized my mistake instantly when Shawn snagged my slender wrist in one hand and swooped his other hand beneath my knees dangling me upside down, making me an easy target for Mark.

Giggling now uncontrollably, I tried to keep my shirt from sliding past my midriff. Mark advanced toward me with a wicked grin on his face as he snatched me easily into his arms. My giggles stuck in my throat as his hand slid around my smooth, flat stomach, securing me more firmly in his arms. He could touch me a million times and I would never get used to the waves of heat that shot through me from the electricity we shared. Glancing up, I saw his eyes begin to smolder as his thoughts followed mine. Bending down, he placed his full lips on mine. I sighed and parted my lips, giving him the access we both wanted. He tightened his arms around me drawing me even closer.

"Perhaps you can save that for a more appropriate time," Haniel said in a dry voice, breaking through my kiss-induced daze. Flushing, I wiggled out of Mark's arms, swaying slightly on my feet as the effects of the kiss flowed through me. Mark slung his arm around my waist, anchoring me to him as we both turned to face Haniel.

Haniel gave us a look that made it clear he thought we were acting more like a bunch of horny teenagers than Chosen Ones. It was obvious he plucked my thoughts from me when I saw the look of affirmation in his eyes. Drat! Note to self - try to block thoughts at all times, I muttered to myself.

"Shall we begin?" he said, suddenly all business. "It's obvious all of you have succeeded in reading the mind of your counterparts," he said, looking at us for confirmation.

"Yep, Shawn and I just figured it out last week with Krista's help," Sam said.

"Good. The ability to communicate through the mind portal is one of the most important gifts The Light has given you. This will be your greatest asset in battle. I'm sure in your recent attack against The Dark Angel, you realized how very crucial this gift is?" he said, directing the question at Mark and me. I nodded my head as he continued. "The next gift he gave is the ability to sooth and balance each other. This is a gift that needs no instruction, as I'm sure you have figured out. That is the extent of your shared gifts. As for individual gifts, the Guides are given the ability to control and receive the emotions of those around them. This is by far the very essence of why you were created. The Light gave you this extraordinary talent so that you can influence the souls of the unsure. With every Abbadon that has walked this earth, they have…"

"Abad… what?" Shawn asked, voicing my own question.

"Abbadon is the name we call all evil men that have walked the earth's surface. Abbadon means destruction, ruination. Those that receive this name are out to destroy and ruin others. They are able to gather forgotten souls to do their bidding. Guides are sent to rescue these souls before they are lost forever. I'm here to teach you how."

I looked around at the others trying to process the information he had just given us. Was he trying to tell us that men like Stalin and Hitler had been Abbadon's and Guides had intervened in those situations? Hitler was responsible for millions of deaths, so had the Guides failed?

"They did not fail. They were merely greatly outnumbered. Many Guides and Protectors were killed trying to save forgotten souls and bring them back to the right side," he replied, picking my thoughts out of my head again. "Most times, the Guides are successful, thus the reason these occurrences have been sporadic over the years. The Light instructs me to send you in to intervene at the most opportune time."

"What about my dad?" Mark asked quietly.

Haniel shook his head. "The Dark Angel will have his Judgment Day, but now is not the time for him. That situation is being monitored as we speak."

"Well, teach us how to go in and kick some ass," Sam said in her usual exuberant way. After a brief pause, she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oops, sorry about that. I guess it's some kind of biblical law against cussing around you right?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to look abashed.

"Perhaps, in the future you could find a better way to express your assessments," he said, making himself clear.

I flashed a smile at Sam. Obviously swearing was out. "Ooh, you're in trouble," I mouthed silently to her.

Sam clapped a hand over her lips, nodding her head solemnly, although her bright shining eyes gave away her merriment.

"Let's begin," Haniel said, ignoring my and Sam's silent antics. "I want my Guides to stand here," he said, indicating the space behind a line he had made in the sand with his foot. "Protectors, you can stand over there," he continued, indicating the sidelines.

Sam, Lynn, and I faced Haniel apprehensively, not sure what to expect.

"Now, close your eyes, and instead of casting my emotions away, you must filter them. Your emotions will work like a blanket, smothering what I cast your way and replacing it with your own," he said.

Obediently, we closed our eyes, nervously awaiting his next move.

I felt the familiar nausea from the foreign emotions Haniel sent our way. All of my instincts pushed me to shy away from them like I had done for years, but instead I faced them head on as Haniel instructed. I was unprepared for the heartbreaking pictures that flashed in my mind. The pictures consisted of starving children, passing before me at lightening fast speed, yet each one seemed to burn through my very soul. The despair was tangible, and my head spun as I tried to help tamper the emotion as it tried to consume me.

The emotional stress became more than I could bear, sending me to my knees, as I vomited the contents of my mall lunch. I put my hands on the sand trying to control the waves of nausea that continued to swirl around in me even after my stomach was empty. My head swam and my body continued to protest as I tried to recover from the foreign assault. I had suffered from the emotions of others for years, but I had never felt them try to smother mine like that before.

Mark was at my side in an instant. "Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded my head, not yet ready to open my eyes. This was different than my normal emotional sickness which I had learned to fight, this was an emotional assault.

I opened my eyes as the nausea slowly seeped away from my body. I was mildly surprised to see both Sam and Lynn in similar positions on the ground. They usually had much better control over their emotions than I did, and I was a little relieved that I wasn’t the only weak one.

"What was that?" Sam asked in a shaky voice.

"That was a touch of despair," Haniel said.

"Just a touch?" I asked incredulously. "And what the heck were those pictures?" I asked, still shaken from what I had seen.

"When you accept someone's emotions, you will get a look into why they are feeling that emotion. Each individual will be different. For example, some may have mental pictures of a difficult home situation, while others may harbor pictures of things they've done that they are ashamed of. I chose the images that you just witnessed to convey despair."

"They made me feel awful," Sam said quietly.

"The mental pictures are a great asset, they will give you crucial insight into the individuals you are sent in to save. Eventually, when you are well-trained, you will use these images to your advantage."

"Well, I guess let's go again," Lynn said with the same reluctance I felt. I wasn't overly anxious to repeat that exercise.