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Kheone fiddled with the straw in her water, feeling like a spotlight pointed at her, saying she didn’t belong. When would the others be here? It was already past six-thirty. If they stood her up on this rare foray into socializing, it didn’t bode well for future endeavors. And she really wanted to change her relationship to the gathering. Reading in her room and going to the museum alone were getting old fast.
At first, keeping her professional distance had seemed necessary. Honored Michael had chosen her to lead the Kansas City gathering, Kheone needed to live up to his high expectations. A year into this new normal, though, the angels were well-trained, and the demon hordes were much diminished. Peace fell upon most of the gatherings, with occasional exceptions like last night.
“There she is. Pay up, losers!”
Serel’s voice rang out behind her, good humor lending golden tones to his words. Kheone turned, brows drawn down in disapproval. Emric and Maj followed behind. Her arm was wrapped around their waist, their arm around her shoulders like...lovers.
She was negligent for not seeing it earlier. Every angel had their own manner of dealing with the Second Fall. Some drank, some cried, some pulled so far in on themselves she was afraid for their souls. Some took lovers. Kheone went to museums.
Catching her gaze, Emric dropped their arm and took a step away. Maj looked like she was going to say something but thought better of it and merely glowered at her lover.
“You bet on whether I would be here?” Kheone asked coolly, choosing to ignore their behavior.
Serel took a seat on the bar stool next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Stiffening beneath the limb, she attempted to shrug it off, but his strength prevented her from doing so without drawing any more attention. She was tempted to do so anyway, but she had accepted the invitation and all it entailed.
“Of course we did, LT. How often have you been a no-show at a party?”
The smell of alcohol on his breath told a tale of their earlier activities. Kheone reminded herself they deserved a day off after surviving yesterday. She only wished they did not command so much attention from the rest of the crowd. Michael preferred they all went unnoticed.
“Too many,” muttered Emric, sending Kheone a sour look.
“Come on, Em,” said Serel. “Give the poor lieutenant a break. She has to answer to a higher authority.”
“I’m sure Em wouldn’t mind answering to that higher authority,” Maj said with a sly grin, nudging the other angel.
Emric punched Maj’s shoulder.
“Ow, no need to hit so hard.”
“There is if you won’t shut up.”
“Children, knock it off!”
Serel smiled widely, but there was an icy edge to it. One could push him, but only so far before the hammer fell. His easygoing personality and gentle humor made him better at managing the angels’ often contentious personalities than she. The angels respected Kheone, but they liked Serel and followed his subtle cues, the ones she always had to make explicit. It didn’t hurt that he had a soft touch when healing, endearing him further to his patients. And they had all been his patients at some point. She sometimes wondered why Michael had chosen her as leader over Serel. When next it came up for discussion, she’d recommend him should something happen to her.
Emric and Maj settled onto bar stools on the other side of Serel and got the attention of the bartender. Maj ordered a round of beer and turned from Kheone and Serel. She and Emric engaged in soft conversation, oblivious to all else.
“What have you been up to today, Kheone?” Serel asked. “Please tell me you didn’t stay at the dorm and read all day.”
Tempted to stick her tongue out at him, the dignity of her position caused Kheone to refrain from tactics better suited to a five-year-old child. Though, to be honest, she probably would have stayed at the dorm all day to read had she not chosen to go to the museum and join the others here.
“I can have interests outside the mission, you know.”
“Sure, you can. You just haven’t showed us you do.”
“Well, I went to Nelson-Atkins.”
“The place with the shuttle-cocks?”
Serel snickered. Kheone sighed. Sometimes, the rest of the gathering was no more mature than twelve-year-olds, but she refused to roll her eyes.
“That’s the one. It’s a wonderful collection, and I see something new every visit.”
Kheone grieved for all the angels had lost. But when she stood in front of a wondrous work of human ingenuity, hope filled her. Even if the angels never found a way home, this place had beauty despite the pain, maybe even because of it. There was a chance the angels could learn something from these divinely limited beings.
“Wait, you’ve been there more than once?”
“As I said, I can have interests outside of the mission.” She smiled at him sweetly, as though she did not want to take his arm and bash him over the head with it.
“You surprise me, Kheone.”
“Then you’re too easy to surprise.”
He burst out laughing, finally earning the attention of the other two angels. She liked Serel, always had. Out of all the angels in the gathering, he invariably had a kind word or a joke to lighten the mood. He was a better healer than a fighter, but yesterday had proven he was more than capable of having her back.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, sipping at the beer the bartender had placed in front of him. “But wouldn’t that be better than the opposite?”
“What is Kheone right about?” Maj asked.
Serel merely shook his head. Kheone lifted her glass in salute. He was right. It was remarkable, given the many years they had been alive, to know you have not seen everything, to still be surprised by the world.
Emric glanced between Serel and Kheone. Whispering something to Maj, they took a small sip of their beer before excusing themself. There wouldn’t be a better time to figure out what had Emric’s hackles up. Kheone turned to Maj.
“Spill the beans, Maj. Emric’s hostility isn’t going to get them any points from me, and the Archangel doesn’t put up with this kind of crap. What did I do?”
Her battle buddy sighed. “I don’t want to speak out of turn...”
“I’m asking as your friend, not your leader. What you say at The Cheesecake Factory stays at The Cheesecake Factory, okay?”
Maj smiled a little then. Kheone had wanted this excursion to open up new avenues of communication, build new bonds. What she said next put that in jeopardy. Hopefully, The Cheesecake Factory clause would soften the blow.
“I like Emric,” Kheone said. “I really do, and I know it’s been a hard adjustment for them, spending so much time on Earth surrounded by humans who don’t understand our ways. But I can’t tolerate insubordination. If they don’t shape up, I’ll have to bring the matter to the archangel, and you know what will happen then.”
Maj’s face grayed. The punishment for insubordination was a brutal beating followed by exile. The only worse ritual had been the Rite of Revelation, but none had invoked that since Lucifer’s insurrection.
“Fine.” Maj set her expression into resigned determination. “Em’s upset because they feel we have to hide our relationship. Everyone knows the archangel frowns on fraternization, and yet here you are schtupping the boss.”
The beer shot out of her nose, and she choked on what remained. Kheone hadn’t known the human body could even accomplish these things simultaneously, for crying out loud. Serel patted her on the back and handed her some napkins to clean up. Maj pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, but her eyes twinkled merrily at Kheone’s reaction.
“Schtupping?” Kheone choked out when her coughing fit subsided.
“Yeah. Or boinking, screwing, banging, knocking boots—”
Kheone held up a hand, and Maj stopped spouting euphemisms for sex. How did this rumor get started? She was rarely alone with Michael, and, until the past twenty-four hours, their relationship had only been coolly professional.
“Where on earth did Emric get the idea I was ‘schtupping’ the archangel? And who calls it schtupping?”
Serel wisely kept his mouth shut, but he patted her shoulder, offering condescending comfort.
“And they called me old-fashioned,” he muttered.
“Well, aren’t you? Why else would the archangel come swooping in to save you and then tear us new ones when you got hurt?” Maj asked.
“He did?” Kheone looked to Serel for confirmation. Her friend nodded. Oh.
If Michael had acted like an overprotective jerk, then she understood Emric’s attitude. In fact, Emric had been a close confidant of the archangel in Heaven. Since being trapped on Earth, Michael seemed to rely more and more on Kheone’s counsel. Sidelined from their established role and worried about being busted for fraternization because of their relationship with Maj, and the picture became clear.
Kheone turned to Maj but clamped her mouth shut when Emric reappeared from the bathrooms and returned to the bar, still glowering. One look at Maj and Emric paled.
“You told them, didn’t you?”
“I had to, Em,” Maj whispered.
“I’m only going to say this once, so both of you, pay attention. I have never had sex with our commander,” Kheone said.
“Yeah, right,” Emric grumbled.
She grabbed their face in her steel-strong fingers and forced their gaze to meet hers.
“I don’t lie. And I don’t care you and Maj are together.”
Color flooded back into their face as Emric tried to sputter out a denial.
“Don’t bother. I saw you when you entered, and I’m fine with it. We’re stuck on Earth for now. If you bring each other some joy, I’m happy for you. I won’t tell the archangel, but you should and soon. I’ll go to bat for you when you’re ready.”
Emric slumped. She had taken away the anger fueling them. Maj slipped under Emric’s arm and pressed a quick peck on their cheek.
“See, Em, I told you we’d be fine.”
“Can we not talk about it anymore?”
“Of course, love.”
“Thank you, Kheone,” Emric said. “And I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool.”
“Yes, you have. And I accept your apology.” Kheone held out her hand, and Emric took it.
“Take me home, Maj. I’ve had enough fun,” they said.
“Your wish is my command.”
“What about dinner?” Serel asked.
“We’ll grab something,” Maj said.
They walked out together, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Kheone tamped down the flare of longing. She’d never had that kind of bond with anyone. Sure, she had found occasional one-night stands and short flings, but never someone worth risking everything for.
“You won’t tell Michael, will you?” Serel said in a low voice.
“I said I wouldn’t.” She signaled the bartender for another beer. If everyone doubted her today, then she needed it.
“Thank you. They’re good together. Maj softens Emric’s edges, and they give her a bit more confidence. How about you? Anyone special out there for you?”
She shook her head again and chuckled. “No. Managing you miscreants doesn’t exactly give me time to develop a relationship. Last time I schtupped someone, the leaves were still green on the trees.”
“I believe the term is sublimating.”
Kheone nudged him with her shoulder but couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. She really needed to go out with her friend more often.
“Thanks, Doctor Freud.”
“Vat are friends for?” Serel said in an outlandish, pseudo-German accent. He ordered another round and checked his watch.
“Someplace to be?” Kheone asked.
“Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh? What about?”
He looked over his shoulder, the smile vanishing as he surveilled the room for eavesdroppers.
“I think I found something useful to our little predicament.”
Her brow crinkled in concern, but she remained silent.
“There’s this book in the library. I’ve skimmed it, and I think it has part of the answer to what happened in...” He glanced around again and lowered his voice. “The Second Fall.”
“Really?” Kheone’s heart picked up its pace, and her limbs went cold.
“Yeah. You’re the next best linguist in our gathering. Can you meet me tomorrow before training?”
“Sure. Where?”
“Far side of the library. Then you can rift us in.”
“You didn’t take the book?”
“I thought it would be safer there. Don’t worry. I hid it.”
“Safer than a building full of angels?”
Serel shrugged. “You’ll see.”
“All right.” Kheone couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice, but she trusted Serel. She’d have all the answers in the morning.
“I hate to eat and run, but I try not to make a habit of breaking promises to a beautiful woman.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Go.” She waved him away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Serel stood and saluted her before leaning down and planting a wet kiss on her cheek. “Goodnight, Kheone. May tomorrow bring more surprises.”
Kheone watched him leave, a jaunty spring in his step.
“No luck, hon?”
The bartender returned and cleared the beer glasses. Kheone hadn’t paid the woman much attention before. Now that she was alone, Kheone took a closer look. The bartender was pretty, round, and soft, with shining, dark brown eyes and hair as black as Kheone’s was blue.
“Just meeting friends for a drink. Besides, he’s not my type.”
All angels were beautiful, blessed with God’s grace, but Serel stood out. His chiseled features would have looked cruel if not for the faint laugh lines around his mouth giving away his good humor. His luscious auburn hair was thick and wavy, and his brown eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence.
And yet, Kheone had never thought of Serel as a potential bedfellow. No angel from her gathering was. She was their leader. Besides, Kheone had a very specific type, one with a name she rarely even dreamed about, let alone allowed to flit through her conscious mind. If only she could banish the tall, golden archangel from her dreams.
“His loss, but I hate to see someone as lovely as you go home alone.”
Realization dawned on her. The bartender was flirting. It had been a while. Michael kept her busy the past year. Her sexual adventures were few and far between since the archangel had figured out they would be stuck on Earth for the indeterminate future. Most of them she’d picked up in bars and clubs. And every time, it had come as a pleasant shock anyone would want her. Kheone was used to thinking of her body as a tool to accomplish a mission, not as something to bring her pleasure. She often missed the early signals of the courting dance. Tonight, however, she’d found someone more forthcoming than most.
Kheone smiled at the compliment, and the bartender laughed, a warm, rich melody that rolled through her.
“My name’s Faye. I get off in thirty minutes. If you meet me out front, you’ll be getting off within the hour.”
The laugh, the curves, Faye’s beautiful, shining eyes should all be fuel for the fires of desire. Instead, the warmth of human connection and appreciation for a lovely woman filled her thoughts. Besides, Michael’s recent behavior had her full attention. Kheone shoved aside any temptation.
“Best offer I’ve had in a long time,” she said, placing her hand on the bartender’s, “but not tonight.”
The woman shrugged and gave her another smile.
“Should I bring the check?” she asked.
Kheone nodded and nursed her last beer. She settled the tab with a generous tip and headed out.
The stars twinkled in the night, joining the airplanes high above. An owl burst from a nearby tree and soared noiselessly into the sky as she crossed the courtyard. The hum of car engines filled the air from the streets surrounding the restaurant. Icy needles of wind punched through her jacket, and she shivered. When she’d been a full-fledged angel, the heat, the cold, the wind, the rain, none of it had bothered her. Now Kheone had to worry about sunstroke and hypothermia. Everyone did, except Michael. Being an archangel had more perks than she had realized.
A small shadow separated from the darkness under the bushes and approached, amber orbs reflecting the meager light from the lamp in the courtyard. Kheone tensed, reaching for her boot and the blade tucked within.
“Meow,” said the shadow. Its form became more distinct as it came closer.
A cat, small and black, wound itself around the legs of the unoccupied tables and chairs.
“Here, kitty, kitty.” She clicked her tongue, hoping the cat would respond. “Here, machka.”
Cat in a language she had not used in centuries. The feline came running up to her. Kheone crouched on the pavement and stroked its sleek fur, making soothing noises.
“Hello there, cat.” She scratched behind its ears. “Where did you come from?”
“Prrr.”
It was all the answer she was going to get. Another shiver passed through her. She needed to head home, the warmth of the blankets on her bed calling for her.
“Good kitty,” she said and took a few steps away.
Kheone opened a rift and walked through. The little cat chased after her, barely making it through before the opening snapped shut, singeing off the hairs on its tail. Yelping, it darted off before she could ensure the creature had suffered no further damage.