The officer frowned. “I’m sorry, we have no records of any people with those names living at that address.”

“What are you talking about? What about a Quinn Lee?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah. Quinn Lee is registered in our database, but not.. I think our database has an error. We don’t have an address for that name. But we have no records at all for these other names. I’m sorry. Whoever you’re looking for must have moved or changed their name.”

What was going on? What had those people—no, Demons—done to mom and dad? Where were my own records? “Thanks, officer,” I said before hurrying out. Thanks for nothing. I felt sick to my stomach. How could my parents just... disappear like that? No trace of anything that had been. I had to get to the bottom of this.

I set up in the library and spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the internet for clues. Surely someone had seen this? Or experienced a similar phenomenon? But as much as I looked, I couldn’t find anything. Not on any social media, or blogs, or message boards. Nothing. “Okay Vespa,” I whispered. “Tell me everything you know about Demons.”

“What more do you need to know?”

“What are they? What did they do to my parents? What happened to my home?”

“They are Demons, Quinn. Beings from hell. I have already explained their purpose: diametrically opposed to ours in every way, what they seek is the end of all life on Earth.”

“What does any of that have to do with mom and dad? And my home? How did they get in? How come all records of my parents have been completely erased? I looked in yearbooks and newspapers from they were teenagers. There’s nothing of them. It’s like they never existed.”

“Demons create temporal anomalies. You have already encountered some. The Echoes are one such manifestation of these abilities. This is simply another.”

“So they can time travel?”

“No. However, through paradox generation they are able to make minor adjustments to the existences of living organisms. Do not worry, though. As an Angel, you are immune to any such ripple effects. It is one of the consequences of—”

“Okay stop. Stop! So my parents are just... gone?”

“No, they still exist somewhere. Their past existence has simply been decoupled from our own. They themselves continue to exist, although unmoored now from who they once were.”

I sighed. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you everything I knew about Demons?”

“Cut it out. Vespa, why did they do this, though? How does this help them with their goals, or whatever?”

“It hurts you. That is enough.”

“That... that pigeon. It gave the Demon my student card. How did it get that? When... on the roof? Days ago?”

“There are many ways they could have obtained this information. That is one possibility.”

Okay. Deep breaths. Panicking would get me nowhere. “So they just want to hurt me. Why?”

“You are an Angel. You are their sworn enemy. Naturally, they will stop at nothing to break your spirit. The ordinary people are those that they can manipulate. But you are immutable. Their only choice is to destroy you, by any means necessary. Destroy your mind. Destroy your spirit. Destroy your body.”

“If I’m their enemy, tell me how can I fight them. They look like humans, but that’s like, a facade, right? They’re secretly these big scary monsters, aren’t they?”

“A facade, indeed. Just like the Echoes. They are not human. Do not treat them as such. Eventually, you will be able to destroy them. Until then, you must train, understand how they act, destroy the Echoes. Perhaps then, you will be able to find your parents.”

“I don’t care. How can I fight them now? What are their weaknesses?”

“They are capable of immense physical regeneration, resistant to all weather and environmental conditions ranging from far below freezing to superheated temperatures. However, several Imagos possess martial elements that are effective at disrupting the reconstitutive components of demons.”

“Say that in English, please.”

“Some weapons possess effectiveness against their bodies. Including yours. However, you lack the skill to properly use your stinger as of yet. You cannot simply confront them, even with the genetic memory of your Imago.”

“Genetic memory?”

“The natural feelings encoded in your Imago, that you are using. To manifest your stinger, say, or to use it properly. Although there is always the full Imago. It would be substantially stronger, although it is not quite adapted for you, yet.”

“Let me use it. It’s the full transformation, right?”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I will bring it out as soon as it is synchronized fully. But even with your full Imago, I have doubts that you will be able to immediately attack and kill a Demon. Several Demons.”

“Fine, then. But I need to get my parents back. I need to...”

“You do not need to worry about pleasing your parents anymore.”

“Yeah, because I don’t have parents anymore! And I need to get them back. As soon as possible.” I didn’t have a home, either, for that matter. I needed to look for a place to spend the night. But that could wait... for now. “Just tell me the fastest way to get my parents back.”

“If you wish to kill the Demon, you must continue to train. Perhaps look for an Angel to help accustom you to combat with Echoes and Demons. Thankfully, you will have more time to devote to this, now.”

“That’s technically true, I guess. But that’s a lot to ask from a highschooler.”

“You accepted this responsibility.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“You agreed to be one of Earth’s magical defenders. I even asked you to confirm.”

“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.” I sighed. “Does this happen to every Angel?”

“This happens to many Angels, yes.”

The librarian tapped me on the shoulder. “Sorry, miss. It’s closing time.” I looked around. The library was almost empty. I checked my phone. It was six already. I thanked her, pulling on my sweater and stepping outside.

The evening air was cool, the sun still hanging well over the horizon. I started down the street. “Where to now?” asked Vespa.

“First, I need to get something to eat. Then... I’m sure I’ll figure out something.” I said. The streets were still busy. It was a Friday night, after all. Surely I’d be able to find a place that was open all night.

***

I rang the doorbell. Alice’s house was always a nice place to visit. I hoped. She hadn’t replied to my messages, but she’d surely understand. We were best friends, after all, and best friends stuck together.

None of my relatives lived in Vancouver. The closest ones were in... Hong Kong. Good luck getting there on my own. I supposed I had a passport... at home. Along with all of my other important documents. And my laptop. And... I really needed to get in there, somehow. Maybe my transformation would help me... break into it? But that was assuming that any of my stuff was left inside. Still, it was worth a shot. I send my aunt a message online.

Enough of that. I rang the doorbell again. Were they out? No. I could see the lights on inside the house, filtering through the drawn curtains. After what felt like forever, I heard footsteps. The door swung open.

“Hello?” Alice was just as she’d been on Friday, dressed in her white tank top and khakis. “Who is it?”

“Alice, it’s me. Um... sorry for butting in, but something’s happened. I really need to crash at your place. I can show you my cool new powers and stuff a little early but I... please let me in. I can explain—”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You must have the wrong person.”

“What? Alice, it’s me. Your best friend. Quinn. Don’t you recognize me?”

She took a step back from the door, hands pulled tight against her chest, biting her lip. “Miss, you’re scaring me. I don’t know you. I’m... I’m sorry.” She rushed back and shut the door behind her.

Through the closed door, I could make out the voice of her parents. “Who was it, dear?”

“Um... nobody. Someone crazy, I think. Don’t worry about it.”

I turned to Vespa. “You said that I was immune to any Demon trickery, or whatever is going on.”

“You are immutable, yes. However, the history of many people who know you seems to have been subtly altered.”

“Subtly altered? She doesn’t even know who I am!”

“Indeed. You have been excised from her history.”

My options started to blink out. Classmates gone. Family too far away right now. And if Alice had been targeted... sure enough, my aunt had sent back a confused message, asking who I was. She wasn’t familiar with my name. “That’s.... that’s really bad. Um.. yeah, I didn’t really think much further than this. I don’t... I need my stuff. I need... there’s gotta be something I can do, right? Think, Quinn, think.” I hurried down the steps and out of Alice’s yard. Where could I go? Was I going to spend the night on the streets?

It was getting really dark out. The downtown streets were lit up by streetlights, casting long shadows on the buildings as I passed. I was tired. But it’s not like I had anywhere to stop and rest. My feet were sore. My knee was killing me. The stores were closing, one by one, lights flickering off, and with them the few embers of hope still burning inside me. I probably should have thought about this earlier. “I’m sixteen. I don’t have a job, I don’t have a home, I don’t have any family. Nobody knows me.” I tried to steady my breaths, but my body refused. “I’m going to die, aren’t I? I don’t want to die.”

“You are not going to die. Stop being melodramatic.”

“Easy for you to say!” I said. “Why did you have to come and offer me this? Why’d you have to ruin my life?”

“You could have refused.” Her buzzy voice annoyed me so. Of course Vespa was calm and snippy. She didn’t have to deal with anything.

“I didn’t think it would be like this! Why didn’t you tell me? That my whole life was going to just— aagh!” I punched a wall. “Ow! That hurts.” I punched it again, anyways. Just to feel the pain. “I give up.”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t want to be an Angel anymore. Get rid of it. Just.. make things like they used to be. Give me back my parents. My friends. My life.”

“I cannot do that. The Demons took those things away from you. All you have are the other Angels. Now, are you going to stop crying and start listening to me? Perhaps there is a place with other angels that you can stay. We ought to look for one.”

“Fine. Just do something, Vespa. Anything. Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“I believe I saw one go this way, then.” I followed Vespa’s directions down the streets of downtown Vancouver until we arrived. I looked up at a faintly glowing neon sign. Sanctuary 73. A smaller sign flashed underneath. Open. I looked in through the window. Nobody seemed to be inside. An empty bar. I tried the door. Unlocked.

A rush of warm air greeted me as I stepped inside. I felt calm. Soft jazz music was playing from speakers in the corner. The booths along the wall were empty, and I collapsed into them, pulling up my pant leg to rub my scraped knee. Deep breaths. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. I looked miserable. My breaths were still ragged from crying. My eyes were all red. I didn’t care anymore.

“This is the place.”

“It’s... it’s nice. Thanks. Can I sleep here? I won’t be bothered or woken up?”

“You can sleep. People have a habit of overlooking this location. And I will watch over you in case any danger arises.”

That was all I needed to hear. My eyelids were heavy and, even against the cold upholstery, I found it easy to drift off to sleep.