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When Kheone awoke the next morning, the smell of bacon and fresh bread greeted her. She poked her head out of the door, the boisterous laughter of her gathering echoing down the hall. The noise originated from the kitchen. Kheone went to investigate.
An angel she had only met a few times stood in the middle of half the gathering, dishing out plates of eggs from a large pan on the stove. A tray full of bacon sat on the table, alongside the remains of at least two loaves of fresh-baked bread. For the life of her, her sleep-addled brain could not come up with her name.
“Hey, LT!” Maj said with a wide smile. “Michael dropped off our new healer late last night. Em tried to wake you, but you were dead to the world.”
“Hi, I’m Mriluda,” the new healer said.
Right, Mriluda. That was it. “Welcome. Glad to have you on board.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Serel. We served together many times. Care for some breakfast?”
“Yes, please.”
Kheone gave the angel a tepid grin. Her head still hurt. Hopefully, a hearty breakfast and a nice hot cup of tea would do her good.
“Did Michael stay?” she asked Mriluda, the rest of the gathering drifting off.
“No. He brought me and left. But he said he’d see us tonight.”
“You’ll join us?” Kheone asked their newest member. Even more reason to celebrate.
“I’d love to.”
“Excellent. Seven sharp.”
Mriluda nodded and poured herself a cup of coffee. She leaned against the wall and peered at Kheone.
“Sure you’re okay, LT?” she asked. “Michael was concerned when they couldn’t wake you last night. Frankly, so am I.”
Kheone shrugged. “Just fatigue, I think.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nosy, aren’t you?” She softened her words with a quick grin.
“I’m a healer. It’s part of the job description.” Mriluda chuckled.
“I’ve been getting some severe headaches when I make a lot of rifts in a day. Yesterday was one of those days. Could be why I slept so soundly.”
The healer nodded. “Could be. Come see me in the next couple of days, or if it happens again.”
“Will do. Need any help settling in?”
The other angel shook her head. “I’m good, thanks. Maj and Emric have offered to show me around today. I’ll see you tonight.”
Putting her cup in the dishwasher, Mriluda left. Emric’s voice floated down the hall, and the outside door crashed shut. Kheone started the dishwasher and returned to her room. She had some interesting reading to catch up on.
Seeing her name written in Serel’s neat hand on the envelope Shax had given her last night, a shiver of sorrow raced through her. At least his killer would never hurt anyone again. Michael’s sword sent his adversaries to oblivion. There would be no resurrection for Serel’s murderer.
Kheone opened her window, hoping Machka would visit sometime today. She had not seen him in a couple of days. A small part of her worried for him.
Her skill in Sumerian cuneiform still intact, she took turns looking at Serel’s originals and Shax’s translations. The demon had not done a terrible job. The translation was much more literal than necessary, but the meaning was clear.
The extraordinary spell had brought down the Gate to Hell, destroying Heaven’s Gate along with it. With the exception of angel blood, the unusual ingredients would take tremendous time and effort to procure. Soil from the Garden would be nearly impossible under the current circumstances.
Most of the magic Kheone used was innate and instinctual, like the rifting. Kheone had rarely performed spells, and those had been simple ones to communicate with the celestial realm.
If they were to have any chance of restoring balance, she had to figure out what had gone wrong and why. She could not do that without the help of someone far more versed in spell casting than she. Once she translated Serel’s work, she would need to tell Michael what she had discovered. No, to be fair, what Serel and Shax had discovered.
Idly, she wondered what happened to the book Michael had taken from her. As much as she trusted Serel, it was better to have the original source. She tucked the notes in the envelope, placing the drawing of the device in with them, and slid it into her sock drawer. Afraid working on a translation would bring back her headache, Kheone turned her attention to more mundane tasks.
Those tasks ate up her day, and before she knew it, the bell tower on campus struck six. Confusion swirled through her. So many nights, she had armed herself physically and shielded herself mentally in order to meet Shax at the museum. A small part of herself missed the preparation, missed the banter, missed—
No, she did not miss the demon. She merely associated the demon with her investigation. Since the investigation was no longer necessary, neither was their relationship. No matter how often she told herself that, something still tugged at her, pulling her towards Shax. Even the thought of his name sent coils of need circling low in her belly.
Kheone shoved the thoughts away and grabbed her jacket. She was walking to The Cheesecake Factory. Maybe the cold air and exercise would help her get her priorities straight. Her long strides ate up the distance, and she soon joined her gathering in the bar.
“Hey, I did not say all the beer you could drink,” she said with a chuckle. “Just cheesecake.”
“Beer and cheesecake are proof God exists, LT,” Emric said.
“But not together,” Maj added, elbowing her lover in the side.
“No, not together,” Emric agreed, their smile widening.
Kheone spent many minutes visiting with her gathering. She had a quick conversation with the bartender and told him she was only paying for the cheesecake. The angels sat around four tables. Some had cheesecake of many kinds. Some had drinks, also of many kinds.
A little before eight, a hush fell over the restaurant as a large, golden-haired man strode in like he owned the place.
The first time Kheone had seen Michael, his head crowned with golden curls, he had wielded a sword of light, the blade sharp enough to separate a soul from its body and leave both intact. His strength of conviction, his honor, and his leadership had made choosing sides easy, really, when Lucifer had rebelled. It didn’t hurt he was the most beautiful of the Archangels. How could anyone deny the Commander of the Heavenly Host?
Except a third of the angelic host had done so and paid for their hubris with eons of agony. She had helped Michael force the Fallen horde into Hell. The archangel had led a macabre parade, dragging Lucifer by his own golden locks. The fury on Michael’s face had been truly awesome.
Kheone became the best at every task she undertook, hoping to impress the archangel. He had sent her on the most difficult missions, turning the hearts of powerful men and women toward goodness and compassion, leading gatherings to defend the souls of warriors on the battlefield, and guiding the souls of the virtuous dead to their final rest in Heaven. She had been the first to step forward every time, hoping Michael would notice. And, one day, he realized he did not have to ask.
When the chaos of the Second Fall brought her plummeting to Earth, his powerful arms had pulled her up off the streets of Kansas City, half-frozen in the depths of winter, the pain of her vanished wings branded in her skin. He had healed her physically and given her purpose in her despair. Kheone had loved Michael since her first glimpse of him. And she still did, but it was the love warriors carried for their compatriots. A familial bond of sorts. She must make that clear to Michael tonight.
The gathering raised their glasses as the archangel joined them. He pushed through to the bar and ordered a beer. Once in hand, he raised his own glass.
“To missing friends,” he said.
“To missing friends.”
The bar stool Michael sat on looked like it would collapse under his muscular frame. The barest hint of a smile graced his usually stony face. His eyes locked onto her, and he beckoned her over. Kheone joined him at the bar, placing her jacket over the back of the chair and sitting next to him. He covered her hand with his cold one.
Whenever she touched Shax, pure lightning, immediate, blazing, deadly, shot through her. Nothing of the sort happened with Michael’s touch, confirming her suspicions. As much as she had once dreamed simple, human-like desire would bind them together, her true feelings were worlds away.
“I see you have met Mriluda,” Michael said.
“Yes. She’s already won them over with bacon and eggs. She’ll fit in fine.”
“Good. So, what is this cheesecake I am supposed to consume?”
Kheone laughed. “They only have a million choices. Here.”
She handed him a menu and turned it to the dessert section. As he looked over his options, her angels began leaving. First, Maj and Emric stopped by to bid farewell to the archangel. They escorted Mriluda home, the newest member still finding her footing in the new city. Then, in twos and threes, the rest came by, also taking their leave. Soon enough, only Michael and Kheone remained.
“Finally, we are alone,” he said, running a sword-calloused finger along her jaw.
“Not here,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Yes, you are right. This is not the place.” His grin was wide, with a hint of the wild in it. “I cannot choose based on these descriptions.”
“They have all the cheesecakes in a case by the entrance.”
“Then I will select one for us to share.”
He walked away. She stared after him. Two weeks ago, she would have admired the way his muscles moved under his tight t-shirt and jeans. Now, she thought of someone else, someone she could never have. How was she going to let an archangel down easy?
“Whew, honey, I don’t know what you’re still doing here with him to look forward to tonight. I could feel the heat from the other end of the bar.” The bartender had snuck up on her and gazed appreciatively at Michael’s butt. “He is beautiful.”
The man did not know how much of an understatement that was. Kheone had seen Michael in his full, angelic glory, glowing in the light of Heaven and God’s love. He had been magnificently, divinely, terrifyingly beautiful.
The bartender fanned himself. “You are a lucky woman.”
No, she was not. If she was lucky, she would have fallen for the angel who so obviously wanted her, the being she could build a future with. Not the demon whose very presence in her dreams should be an affront to all that was holy and yet set her aflame with desire. She was screwed.
Kheone didn’t notice Michael return. He brushed his fingers across her shoulders, lightly pressing the wings beneath. The gentle touch did nothing for her. It should have set her skin on fire.
Michael frowned slightly, as though noticing her lack of reaction. A smile quickly replaced it.
“As it is my first visit to this restaurant, let us order an original.”
His voice rumbled as he ordered from the bartender. She paid little attention. Why did she not have a reaction to Michael’s touch? That was...weird was the best word she could think of. Before she could chase down likely answers, the dessert arrived, and Michael fed her forkfuls of decadence.
“We still need to have our conversation, Kheone.”
She nodded, her mouth full.
He ran a finger up her arm. Goosebumps trailed after it.
“Cold?”
Kheone shook her head. There was something else, something she couldn’t put a finger on.
“Come, we will find someplace more private to talk.”
She paid the bill, shrugged into her jacket, and followed Michael outside. Wintry air slapped Kheone in the face. She shivered again.
Michael pulled her into his arms. The shivers only got worse.
“What is wrong, Kheone?”
“I, I don’t know.”
Michael opened a rift behind her to his room. He swept her under a protective arm and escorted her through. No sooner had the rift closed behind him than he enveloped her with his massive physique. Michael bent his head and claimed her mouth as his own. He traced the outline of her wings, and the spiky, gnawing tension inside her tipped toward the breaking point. Great, wracking sobs escaped her.
“Stop, please,” she said.
“What is wrong, my beautiful Kheone? I thought you wanted this.”
He did not release her, trapping her in his arms.
“I did.”
“Good. Now that is settled...”
Michael lowered his head once more. Kheone pushed against him and leaned as far away as the too-tight embrace would allow.
“I did want this. I don’t anymore,” she said.
“But you are mine, Kheone, my perfect angel.”
He had no right to demand that from her. She owed him her loyalty and her obedience for fighting the forces of darkness. Not this.
“I...what?” Maybe she’d misheard.
“You belong to me, Kheone, from this night and for always.”
Bitter outrage replaced the confusion. She belonged to no one, not like this. She shoved against his chest, but the rock-hard muscles didn’t budge.
“Let me go.” Her voice was glacial.
He blinked at her, confusion roiling through his brown eyes, ones she had once thought beautiful but now were needlessly aloof.
“I want you, Kheone. And you want me. You belong with me.” Michael sounded like a lost little boy, unable to comprehend how what he wanted was not what he was getting.
“I don’t—” She shoved again. His grasp only tightened.
“Of course you do. Your modesty becomes you, Kheone. There have been other angels who have waited all eternity to be in your shoes.”
“You’re not listening, Michael. I don’t want you anymore.”
His expression turned, rage clouding it where once there was desire. “Who are you to deny me? You owe me everything.”
“I don’t owe you this.” She yanked her arm out of his grip and retreated a few steps. “Who I sleep with, who I’m attracted to, that’s entirely up to me. And I don’t want you.”
“Get out.” His voice was an arctic blizzard.
Kheone stood frozen at his bitter anger, wondering what she had done wrong. She had not meant to lead him on, but this had been their first real chance for a conversation. Michael’s assumptions about their conversation differed vastly from her own.
“If you will not leave, then I shall.”
A line of red light opened to his right. He turned on the balls of his feet and stepped through without another word.
Gathering her wits, Kheone ran out of the room, down the stairs, and into the night, pushing past several angels. She took great, gulping breaths of the cold air and ran until she reached the bell tower in the middle of campus. Icy tears flowed, and she leaned against the white walls of the tower. What the Hell had just happened?