MIKE RODE IN the passenger seat beside Olivia through a section of town filled with bars, adult bookstores, and strip clubs. She parked in front of a red brick house. A glow of light came from the basement window. Olivia sat in the car with the engine turned off and began to pray, waiting for Christina to arrive. Mike dove inside the building, still able to watch out the basement window to be sure his charge was safe. A teenage boy was crouched against the far wall, staring up at an older man. Mike recognized the boy as Olivia’s friend Greg. He assumed the man was Greg’s father.
Mike knew Greg’s father had always scared Olivia. She’d seen him at she and Greg’s middle school graduation ceremony. He was a large man with a shaved head and tattoos all over his massive biceps, which were about as large as Olivia’s head. Everyone knew that he had an anger problem, and Greg had come to school with a shiner on more than one occasion. He always made some excuse about how he’d run into something, but Olivia had her suspicions. Her heart hurt for Greg. He was the sweetest guy in spite of his circumstances.
“You little punk!” The older man rubbed his whiskered face, then raised his fist and brought it down on top of the boy’s head. “Don’t you smart mouth me like that.”
“Dad, please stop.”
Greg took another blow to his face. More blood spewed from his already fractured nose. He held up his arms to try to block the next blow, but he couldn’t fend it off. His dad’s fist hit him on his left jaw.
The father threw a lamp, shattering it into pieces, then stormed up the basement stairs.
Greg slumped over in a sitting position on the floor. His sobs sprayed blood all over his torn T-shirt and jeans.
Tears pooled in Mike’s eyes. His heart ached for the boy. No wonder he sought the escape of paranormal games and supernatural escapades.
An old-style telephone with a long tangled cord sat on a table in the middle of the room, the receiver dangling over the edge. Greg crawled to it and placed the earpiece to his ear. “Christina? Are you still there?” His legs wobbled as he forced himself to stand and hang up the phone.
Mike noticed a glow on the other side of Greg. Facial and body features came into focus until he could see Churiel was facing him. He’d seen this angel around Olivia’s group of friends before.
“Your blondie is out there praying.” He bowed in greeting to Mike.
“Yes, I’ve taught her well.” Mike thrust his chest out with pride.
“Well done, comrade. As you can guess, my effectiveness in this household has not been put into motion until Olivia’s prayer outside.”
With tears in his translucent eyes, Churiel knelt beside his charge. He wore no armor, only a long white robe gathered at the waist with a golden rope. His long, flaxen hair cascaded over his shoulders.
Greg bellowed and swung his fist into the dark paneling, creating a hole in the wall. When he’d gathered his emotions, he moved with long steps to the broom closet, where he grabbed a short stool and a length of clothesline rope.
“This will be the last time you punch me, Dad,” he mumbled. “You won’t ever have to worry about me again.”
Mike stared at Churiel, awaiting some action. Surely his friend would intervene.
Greg shuffled into the furnace room and shut the door. A pull on the string dangling from the single light bulb in the center of the room illuminated the dark chamber. With shaky hands he placed the stool beneath the rafter, stood on it, and looped the rope over the beam.
Mike waited in silence for a signal from Churiel . . . or a miracle.
Greg tried to tie a noose in the rope. While fiddling with it, he lost his balance. Churiel shoved his foot into the stool and tipped it, toppling Greg to the floor.
Churiel ginned with satisfaction as he withdrew his foot.
“Good move,” Mike said.
The phone rang. The loud jangling sound brought a string of curses from Greg as he walked into the other room to pick it up.
“Greg?” Mike’s sharp hearing picked up the concerned female voice coming through the receiver.
“Christina!”
“I’m on my way. Don’t move. I’m one minute from your house.”
Greg dropped the phone onto its cradle, wiped tears from his eyes, and returned to the furnace room, where he sat on the tiny stool, staring at the wall in front of him.
Headlights streamed through the basement window as a car screeched to a halt outside.
Christina’s face appeared on the other side of the window. Her eyes were red from crying and wide with fear. She tapped on the window.
“Greg, I’m here! Come to the front door.”
Mike caught a glimpse of Gideon just behind Christina.
Greg shook his head and yelled, “My father’s up there. I’m not going anywhere near him.”
Her face disappeared. A minute later, soft footsteps could be heard coming down the basement stairs.
Christina peered around the corner into the room. She gasped in shock when she saw Greg sitting on the tiny stool with the noose dangling above his head. She rushed to him.
“I left as soon as I heard you and your father arguing over the phone. Your back door was unlocked, so I let myself in without knocking. Hope your dad doesn’t get angry.”
She kneeled on the floor and took his hands away from his face so he would look her in the eye. “How long has this been going on?”
He shrugged.
“We’ve been friends since grade school, and you never told me about this?”
Christina brushed a wisp of hair away from his sweating forehead, revealing a fist-sized area of skin where a chunk of hair had been ripped out. His face was swollen from where he’d been punched.
She wept. “I’m so sorry. If I’d only known . . . ” She embraced him, and after a few seconds, his arms wrapped around her neck and he sobbed into her hair.
She rubbed his back. “It’s OK. We’ll work this out. You can come to my house. My parents will let you stay as long as you want. I know they will.”
“Really?”
“Really. You’re my best friend. I’m here for you.”
His sobs subsided, but he continued to embrace her. He twirled his fingers through her red curls. He drew back and searched her eyes for a moment. She kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. Greg kissed her lips. Then he buried his face in her neck. He let out a muffled groan.
Christina placed her lips near his ear. “I prayed for you on the way over here. It’s the first time I’ve ever prayed that hard. I’m not sure, but I think it worked.”
“I’m glad you did. You’re my angel.”
“Well, I’m no angel.” She laughed. “But maybe someone is.”
Mike smiled. He was proud of the example Olivia was displaying for her friends. He gave Churiel a high five.
Christina cradled Greg’s face in her hands. “Let’s not focus our friendship on the scary stuff we’ve been doing anymore.”
Greg nodded, then dried his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.
She grabbed his arm and helped him stand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
They rose, holding each other’s hands. After ascending the stairs, they quietly let themselves out the back door and walked to Christina’s car.
Olivia leapt out of her car and wrapped her arms around her friends. “Are you guys OK? I’ve been out here praying. Christina told me to stay in the car when she got here. She wanted to go into the house by herself and have me stay out here just in case she needed my help calling 911 or whatever.”
Greg’s chin was quivering. “Thanks.” Then his red eyes looked back at the ground.
Christina grabbed his hand, “Let’s get you out of here.”
As they drove away, Mike realized his job here was over. The boy was safe. His charge was safe, and she’d prayed like he had taught her. Churiel hadn’t done too badly either, even though all he had to do was kick over a stool.
Two dark ghouls swirled out the basement window, the same kind Mike had seen at Christina’s house. “We aren’t leaving,” they taunted. “We don’t have to.” Mike knew from experience that demons didn’t have to leave a territory if they had been invited there.
He slipped away into the night with his charge.
As I sat in the library at home watching The Notebook, notions of romance clouded my mind. I drifted off to sleep on the couch, fantasizing about “the one” that Mike had told me about.
“Olivia?”
The soft whisper sounded like Mike’s voice. I opened my eyes. Blue eyes met mine. They looked like Mike’s, but a dark tempest brewed there.
I felt his hand caress my arm, then brush against my chin, then move slowly up to my lips. Muscular arms encircled me. This touch was more intimate than I was used to with Mike. Was I dreaming?
I gazed into his exquisitely beautiful face, framed by short-cropped curls. I felt myself softening under his sensual grip. I felt guilty at how much I was enjoying this. But if it was just a dream, I could let this scene play itself out, right?
I closed my eyes and gave in to his advances, allowing his mouth to explore mine. His hands stroked my back from shoulder to lower hip. His breath on my neck sent my senses reeling. I ached for more.
Sudden pain shot through my body as his fingers became spikes, digging into the flesh on my arms. The embrace crushed the breath out of me. I opened my eyes, and instead of Mike I saw a creature with dark green veins under his light green skin. Jagged teeth protruded from his mouth.
I tried to scream but could make no noise. My mouth went dry. My muscles ached as I tried to fight this demon off of me.
Hot blood trickled from the wounds on my arms. The more I tried to scream, the angrier the monster became, and he dug his claws deeper into my back.
The creature let out a low growl, and I felt a force moving my legs apart. “Come with me,” its seductive voice hissed. “I’ll make you my queen for eternity.”
“No!”
I received another dose of pain. My rib cage felt like it was being crushed. My breath was forced out of my lungs. My eyes rolled back in my head.
“God!”
A bright light flashed into the room.
“Faleilmae el Laidu,” Mike’s voice boomed.
Mike ripped the demon off of me. The ceiling opened and swallowed the demon, then closed.
I had no idea what he’d said, but at least I could breathe again.
I jolted upright on the sofa, gasping for air. “What just happened?”
“You opened yourself up to a spirit of sensuality pretending to be me.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I said, trying to sound innocent.
“What were you doing before you fell asleep?” Mike raised one eyebrow at me.
“Watching a movie that had—well—let’s just say, some racy sexual scenes.”
“Remember what I told you about the women in Noah’s day opening themselves up to romance with angels?”
“Yes.” I looked away in embarrassment. From the start Mike had laid down the boundaries in our relationship and given the Old Testament example of the nephilim.
“That’s what just happened to you. You fantasized about the two of us. You can’t do that. Those filthy beings would like to see us both fall. And since they know they can’t take me down, they’re messing with your mind. If they can separate us, then God’s purpose in sending me to you will be over.”
“I had no idea that an evil angel could pretend to be you and tempt me that way.” I shivered as I recalled the horrific scene that had just transpired.
“You need to guard your heart, even in your sleep. Pray before you lie down, and ask God to take over your dreaming. I love protecting you, but don’t make my job harder. I had to fight off five other demons before I got to you just now. Try disciplining your mind and your thoughts.”
I sat up, elbows resting on my knees, my hands over my eyes. I felt ashamed of myself for letting my mind wander in a direction that was off limits in my friendship with Mike—and for opening myself up to be attacked by a dark angel.
Mike and I had a relationship like no other. Why would I want to ruin it? Mike wasn’t made for romantic relationships. He didn’t even think he was missing out on anything. He never seemed lonely. And why would he be?
Mike sat beside me on the couch. He pulled my hands away from my face, tilted my chin so I would look him in the eye, and kissed my forehead. His face softened, assuring me that I was forgiven for my moment of weakness.