His brown eyes twinkled as he spared me an enigmatic smile. “How indeed.”
I shook my head and offered him my hands, which he took to help lift me to my somewhat shaky feet. He opened the door and held me steady to walk back to my bed. He could have just picked me up, but I insisted I could get there myself. Stubborn? Who, me?
From my bed, I could see into the kitchen where Michael stood at the stove cooking something. He even wore an apron, which made me giggle. I’d have to make fun of him for it later.
Raphael handed me a glass of water before zipping up his leather bag. “That should be all for now.”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing in a slight frown. “Are you sure you don’t want me to heal your back?”
Discomfort curled through my stomach in a cold wave. I didn’t like that he’d seen them—my scars. It raised a lot of questions, and none of them I wanted to answer. “No. I’m alright.”
“Very well. I will be dropping by a few times a week to check on your progress. Make sure not to put too much stress on your body.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”
He smiled. This time, I could feel a different emotion than with Gabriel and Michael. An overwhelming sense of calm washed through me. I felt safe in his presence.
“Think nothing of it. Good night, Jordan.”
With that, he turned and left, nodding to Michael before leaving the apartment. It made me realize this would be the first time I was alone with the new (or would that be old?) Michael. Just how much of the Michael I knew was in there? That was the million-dollar question.
I searched the top of my nightstand for the remote control and turned on the TV. Midway through Transformers, Michael appeared with a bowl of chili and a spoon. I couldn’t stop staring.
“Do you realize how weird it is that you’re an angel who knows how to cook?” I pointed out, hoping my question would mask the sound of my stomach growling.
Michael shrugged, handing me the bowl, spoon, and napkin he’d brought with him. “Man’s gotta eat.”
“That reminds me—what kind of body is that? Is it like Gabriel described?” I continued, tasting the first spoonful. Oh, Lord. It was delicious. The urge to shovel in several mouthfuls was intense.
“It’s…a little hard to explain,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of my bed. The little blue apron was gone. I missed it.
“This is a hybrid body: half-human and half-angel. I look human to blend in with everyone else, but I can still use my abilities.”
“So where are your wings?”
“They’ll appear if I concentrate hard enough.”
I considered asking him to show them to me, but I figured that was a little personal. “What kind of abilities do you have?”
“Seeing spirits, something similar to super strength, influencing emotions and will power…those sorts of things.”
“Are the demons the same way?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed a bit. As with Gabriel, the angels really didn’t like it when I mentioned their evil counterparts. It was understandable: Belial had been the foulest creature I’d ever met, dead or alive.
“You could say that. They too have human bodies, but demon souls. Belial is Satan’s personal favorite of all his minions. He’s the most resourceful, since he’s spent the most time on Earth. It’s hard to keep track of him because he switches among his own line of human bodies every so often.”
A shudder crawled up my spine when I thought about his creepy smile and lifeless eyes. “Can he possess anyone?”
Michael shook his head. “Two souls can’t share the same body without one of them being expelled. That’s why possessed people are so violent. The two spirits fight for control. A demon only uses that tactic if his original body is in danger of being destroyed.”
I lowered the bowl. “Belial mentioned something about a lower class demon he sent as a lure for Mr. N. How is it that things like that can walk around in our world?”
“Trust me, it wasn’t supposed to. As Gabriel said, Father has not directly interacted with the human race since the Transfiguration of the Son. It’s the same with Satan. He isn’t allowed to make his presence known to mankind. Instead, he sends his minions out to corrupt. To counter his actions, Father implements everything through the archangels. Sometimes He will give specific orders, but in general we travel between Heaven and Earth keeping peace.”
“So what happens when I help souls cross over to the other side?”
“The archangel Uriel escorts the souls up to the gates of Heaven for judgment.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Damn, I guess Milton really was onto something when he wrote Paradise Lost.”
Michael flashed me a grin. “He had a little help.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be more vague.”
“I can try.”