Thunder roared overhead, shaking the bedroom walls like an earthquake. Rain smacked the windowpanes and the glass trembled. They weren’t the only things shaking in this room. Darkness pervaded every inch of my vision, but I could feel—and what I felt now was unlike anything else. Heat, firm skin, thin cotton sheets, and strong muscles.
Soft lips devoured my throat, climbing higher to the spot where my jaw met my ear. Strong arms wrapped around my back, holding me upright and pressing me against a man’s smooth chest. His hands stroked the length of my spine. Shivers rolled down my skin. I buried my fingers in his hair. I couldn’t see him, but something about his touch felt familiar. I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I felt safer in his arms than I ever had in my entire life.
He grabbed my waist and rolled us over, crawling above me. His lips found mine in the dark and the kiss sent shuddering waves of pleasure down my body. My hands slid up to his shoulders and wrapped around the back of his neck. My thighs parted. Then, complete and utter bliss. Even without sight, we somehow moved together as one. Seconds before I reached the edge, lightning split the skies, giving me a brief glimpse of the man above me. Brown hair. Full lips. Green eyes.
Warmth brushed my cheek. I stirred, tilting my face away from it. It was probably just sunlight. Which meant it was morning. Boo.
I lay motionless on my left side, unwilling to move a muscle since my bed was so warm. Surely I could grab another hour or so of sleep. I curled my legs in a bit to get more comfortable, but frowned when I felt them touch something foreign. Not a book, which happened sometimes. This ‘something’ was warm and alive.
I cracked one eyelid open and found myself staring Michael in the face. He was lying next to me, eyes closed, with the book resting below his chin. That wasn’t the most pressing thing, however. Sometime during the night I’d scooted closer, and his hand rested on the curve of my hip, almost possessively. Each time he exhaled, it spilled hot air across one side of my face. I stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out how to react. Then the dream rushed up to the surface of my mind like a tsunami. I felt my entire body tense as I realized who the man in it had been. Son of a bitch.
Michael made a small sound in the back of his throat and opened his eyes, looking right at me. Neither one of us moved. I ventured to fill the awkward silence first.
“Um. Hi?”
The archangel smiled in a sleepy fashion. “You always know the appropriate thing to say in social situations.”
“I am human, after all.”
“I keep forgetting,” Michael said, sliding his hand away from my waist as if it were nothing unusual. He rolled over onto his back and yawned, stretching his tall frame. I ignored the admittedly nice view and instead forced myself to sit up, wondering where Jacob had gone. The thought didn’t last long, because all I could think about was the fact that I just had an incredibly dirty dream about an archangel and then woke up accidentally cuddling with him.
“Jordan?”
“Huh-what?”
He gave me a confused look. “I asked if you were hungry.”
Apparently not for food, a little voice cackled in the back of my head. I promptly told it to shut up and just nodded. He stood and left the room in search of breakfast. I watched him go and concluded that I was definitely going to Hell.
The clock read half-past noon, confirming that we’d stayed up for most of the night reading Homer. I couldn’t remember which one of us had fallen asleep first. That was when it hit me.
I didn’t have nightmares last night.
For a moment, I just sat there with my mouth slightly agape. For the first time in two whole years, I’d slept through the night without waking up bathed in sweat or crying. For the first time in two years, I hadn’t needed the strong whiskey in my nightstand to help calm me down enough to rest. Why now? Was it because of Michael?
“Jordan?”
I glanced upward to see Jacob standing in the doorway. On reflex, I smiled at him so he wouldn’t worry about how I had looked a second ago.
“Hey, kid.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No, everything’s fine. I think today we’ll take you around the city to see if you recognize anything.”
He nodded, and then wandered back towards the kitchen. I slid to the edge of the bed and stood, stretching. By now, my right hand no longer hurt and the stiffness in my neck had decreased significantly. I could feel the bandages beneath my shirt shifting as I moved. Michael would have to change them soon. That would be especially interesting after that vivid dream.
After choosing an outfit from my closet, I started to shove the hangers back towards the rear, but then my hand touched something covered in plastic. Strange. I hadn’t gone to the dry cleaners in a while.
I pulled it out. It was Mr. N’s duster. I thought I had lost in the alley when Belial attacked me. Pleased, I stripped off the plastic and ran my hands over the clean fabric, fingertips brushing over the places where the sleeves had been sewn back together. Something warm unfurled in my chest. Somehow, this was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.
Still, seeing it made me feel too vulnerable so I placed it back into the closet and gathered my undergarments to go take a bath.
Twenty minutes later, just when I finished putting my underwear on, I heard Michael knock on the door and open it before I could grab my robe.
“Hey, I—” He stopped in mid-sentence.
I picked up my robe from the floor and slid it on, facing him.
“Yes?”
“Jordan…your back. Why didn’t you tell me?” He shut the door behind him and motioned for me to turn around.
I sighed, allowing the soft wool to slide down enough to expose my lower back. Along the base of my spine were faded brown scars—some long and thin like string, while others were thick and twisted like snakes. Michael hadn’t seen them when he wrapped my chest because I’d made a point not to lower the robe enough for him to notice. I knew he’d ask about them.
“Belial didn’t do this, did he?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then who?”
My voice came out soft. “Aunt Carmen.”
He took in a sharp breath. I shivered as his fingertips traced the nastier looking ones closer to my backbone. “She couldn’t hit me where people might see. Didn’t want someone to call the cops on her.”
“Jordan…”
I shook my head and pulled the robe up, tying it. “No. I’m tired of talking about me. I want to hear something about you for once.”
My eyes found the silver chain around his neck with the tiny padlock still intact. “When did you get that back?”
Michael seemed like he wanted to argue, but he merely sighed. “Raphael fixed it. He’s always been good with his hands.”
“Is he the one who sewed up my duster?”
“No, that was me. I figured you’d want it back, since he meant so much to you.”
Again, a warm spot filled my stomach. How could he stand to be so sweet to me all the time? “Thank you. Seriously.”
“You’re welcome.”
I gestured to the necklace. “Where did you get it?”
His green eyes flickered with an unknown emotion as he wrapped a large hand around the padlock, almost as if it were a reflex. “I bought it from someone not long after I lost my memory.”
I sat down on the edge of the tub and motioned for him to continue. Michael grabbed the First Aid kit from the sink and pulled up the folding chair that had been pushed into the corner, rewrapping my chest as he told me the story.
Michael hated clothes shopping, but felt it was a necessary evil after the incident. The police had recovered his wallet and Visa card, meaning they’d also found where he lived. Turns out the same person who robbed him and knocked him out also emptied out his apartment. After a long call with the bank he got the identity theft straightened out, but that still left him needing to buy all new furnishings and clothes. He hadn’t been
able to find out where his substantial savings had come from since he didn’t have a job yet. He assumed he was an orphan who had been left an inheritance and left it at that.
After getting turned around a couple times, he located the men’s sections and started shifting through the endless sea of blacks, blues, and browns. The entire situation seemed humorously absurd. He had no clue who he was so what sort of clothing defined him? Jeans? Slacks? Shorts? Pin-striped suits?
“Can I help you, sir?”
He heard a female voice from behind him. A woman selling men’s clothes. Well, of course. He prepared to tell her to leave him alone, but ended up rooted in the spot like a moron. This girl was flat-out gorgeous. He didn’t even notice what she was wearing, because her smile blew the rational part of his brain right out the back of his skull. Dark brown hair, grey eyes, long lashes, smooth ivory skin—he wondered if it was even legal to let girls like her out in public.
After a moment he realized he hadn’t answered her question, so he cleared his throat and offered her a smile. “You can start by not calling me sir.”
She chuckled. “Sorry. I’m supposed to say that to everyone. What are you looking for?”
Michael threw up his arms. “To be honest, I have no clue. I’m supposed to be getting a new wardrobe, but I have no idea where to start.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll definitely help you get there. My name is Diana.”
She offered a slender, manicured hand. He shook it. “Michael.”
No matter how many times he said it out loud, it felt weird to him. He supposed it was because he didn’t have any physical recollection of someone saying his name: no mother, no father, no teasing children at school, no over-zealous big brother hanging the syllables over his head in an obnoxious way. It was just a name. Like he was just a man.
“Michael. I like that name. Were you named after anyone in particular?” She asked as she pushed aside a few suit jackets.
He brushed his fingertips against the sizeable bump on the back of his head.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Well, there’s your problem right there. How can you know where you’re going when you don’t know where you’ve been?”
Her question stopped him in his tracks. “What do you mean?”
“I’d have trouble trying to pick out a wardrobe too if I didn’t know who I was already. I mean, think about it. The stuff that happens to our parents and to us when we’re young are what make us what we are. Now, most people don’t think there’s much to a name, but I think it sets a sort of precedent.” She tossed a couple of jackets over his arm. He watched her, enraptured as she continued to explain.
“There are some names that have a destiny like…Butch. With a name like that, you have to grow up to be a bodyguard or an athlete. Guys like Calvin and Theodore have to be those well-groomed guys in those sweater vests you see all the time. The Georges and Marks of the world have to be engineers and scientists or bankers and lawyers.” Four dress shirts: two light blue, one black, one light green. She pressed three white into his hands before smiling that nuclear smile again.
“But you got lucky. Michael is one of those names that can mold to meet any need.”
“How so?”
She shrugged, beckoning him to follow her to the pants section. “Think about all the Michaels in the world. You’ve got Michael Jordan, famous basketball player. Michael Jackson, King of Pop music. Michael Buble, fantastic crooner. Michael Phelps, Olympic bad ass. And if you want to forget about all the pop culture, there’s what the name itself means.”
“What’s that?”
Diana handed him a pair of shoes, dropping her voice as if she were telling him a secret.
“God-like.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch for me, don’t you think?”
She shrugged, grabbing two felt boxes with cufflinks in them and a silver necklace with a tiny padlock around it. “I don’t know. If you’re anything like God, then I certainly don’t mind going to Heaven.”
He laughed. “I think you’re giving me way too much credit.”
“Maybe so,” she chirped. “Take these jeans and shirts and try it all on. See how everything fits and let me know when you’re ready for check out.” She gave him an encouraging push towards the changing room. A peculiar girl, to say the least.
Thirty minutes later, he had a respectable pile of clothes that fit and started counting out all the bills to pay for the stuff. Diana rang up the items with smooth, practiced movements, humming under her breath as she went. He didn’t know the tune, but he knew it would probably stick with him for the rest of the day.
“Your total is $440.50.”
He glanced back down at the money his hands. “I’m a little shy of that. Do you think you can take a couple things off?”
“Sure. What do you want to put back?”
“Maybe one of the cufflinks. The necklace too.”
She pouted. “Oh, keep the necklace. I think it would look good on you. Besides, I think you need it.”
“What makes you say that?”
She leaned in, running a fingernail across the shimmering silver. “Well, my mom told me people who don’t know themselves can have their hearts stolen easily. This necklace has a padlock on it so it’ll protect you. You’ll always have a little reminder to keep your heart safe.”
He smiled. “That’s very corny, you know.”
“I know.”
“Alright, keep the necklace and ditch the cufflinks.”
Pleased, she removed the items from the list and he handed her the money. She bagged everything for him and left the necklace out, surprising him by taking it out of its little velvet case and slipping it around his neck. She looked at the finished product with a satisfied grin.
“There. You’re all set.”
“Before I go, tell me something.”
“Sure.”
“What does your name mean?”
Her grey eyes widened, seeming luminous in the bright lights overhead. “I…don’t actually know. I’ve never looked it up before.”
“Oh? Alright, how about I come by tomorrow and I’ll tell you what your name means? No cheating and checking online tonight.”
She studied him for a good long while until he felt worried she would blow him off but she finally nodded. “Okay. My shift is over at six. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t be. Thank you, Diana.”
She winked at him before turning back around. “Have a nice day, sir.”
I watched as Michael pulled away from me and closed the small, transparent box holding my First Aid supplies. “And? What happened when you came back the next day?”
Michael stood up and placed the kit back underneath my sink. “She wasn’t there.”
I frowned. “Why? You two seemed to have hit it off pretty well.”
“She was killed in a hit-and-run the night before.” His voice was so quiet I barely heard it over the sound of the water rushing from the faucet as he washed his hands.
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Michael shook his head, leaning forward to put the finishing touches on my bandages. “It’s alright. I’m glad to have met someone like her at all, even if our time was short. Before then, I had no clue where I was going or what I was going to do. She helped me take the first step. That’s why I don’t judge humans as harshly as I once did.”
“Although…” His eyes wandered down towards my back. “Sometimes it’s hard to resist the urge.”
“I can’t imagine anything tempting you, Michael.”
When he met my eyes this time, it felt different. I couldn’t have explained it if someone asked me to but it just…was. For a couple of seconds, my view of Michael trickled from angel to human being all from one slight crinkle above his brow, a faint tilting of his lips downward, the quick bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat, and an emotion in his sea-green eyes that had no business being there. Worse still, my fuzzy mind worri
ed my own eyes reflected the same thing.
“You’d be surprised,” he murmured, before straightening up so fast that I swayed a little in my seat. The trance shattered around us, and the tension crumbled with it. For now, anyway.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What does Diana mean?”
He paused in the doorway, his shoulders tensing. I thought about apologizing for prying, but as my lips parted so did his.
“Divine. It means divine.”
He didn’t give me a chance to reply, just cleared his throat and raised his voice to a more normal tone. “You need to eat. I can take Jacob around town today.”
“I’m going with you.”
He sighed, flashing me a weary look. “I thought we agreed you were going to take it a little easier since the hospital fight.”
“Look, I appreciate the concern, but I’m healed to the point where I can walk around without pain or stiffness. Besides, you’re going to need my insight on this one.”
“I can handle this one. You’ve already done enough. I’m supposed to protect you and you almost got your head smashed in by a demon. You need to stay home and get better.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Michael. I’m a big girl. I can’t just hide here all day. I have a life. I have sins to atone for, even if your boss says my soul is freed. I have to hold myself accountable for what I’ve done.”
Michael narrowed his eyes at me. “And what if Belial is standing on the other side of that door?”
At the mention of the demon’s name, a cold shock went up my spine. The skin on the back of my neck tightened as if he were behind me, laughing that dry laugh in my ear. I steadied my breath and stood, stepping closer to Michael and giving him a challenging smile. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing that you’ll be there to protect me.”
Michael studied me for a long moment, seeming to realize the aggravating truth of my words. He reached up and unclipped the necklace from his neck, thoroughly confusing me. “I was right, you know. You are stubborn.”
I merely shrugged. This time, it didn’t hurt. Hurray. “It’s one of my best—what the hell are you doing?”
He gripped my left arm and wrapped the necklace around it until the chain stretched tight across the skin of my wrist, leaving the padlock to hang down near my palm. He then lifted it up and kissed it. The combination of his warm lips and the cold metal made goosebumps pop up across my skin before I could yank my hand away.
“What was that for?”
“I put a special mark on the necklace. I can locate it no matter where I am. As long as you’re wearing it, I know where you are.”
I stared at him. “…did you just Lo-Jack me?”
“Maybe. Now come on. We’ve got work to do, remember?”