The Black Parade

“Geez,” I mumbled, shivering. “Is he gonna be there for all eternity?”

 

 

“No. When Judgment Day arrives, he and all the other souls trapped there will be judged just like the rest of humanity.”

 

“Maybe by then he won’t be so angry.”

 

He didn’t reply. Instead, Michael moved closer, encircling me with his arms.

 

I stiffened, confused. “Michael, what…?”

 

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Everything.”

 

For some reason, the quietness of his voice and the simplicity of that one word made all the horrible events in my life come rushing back to me at once. I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt every ounce of fear, sadness, and anger that I’d brushed off in order to be strong enough to escape Belial.

 

For the first time in two years, I cried. I cried for my mother, I cried for the man I’d killed, I cried for Michael, and I cried for the life I’d never have. My legs wouldn’t support my weight any more so we sunk to the floor. Michael said nothing, simply holding me. I couldn’t remember how long we sat there, but he never let go as long as we did. Thank God for him.

 

Then, gradually, the tears stopped. Maybe it had happened because I hadn’t truly dealt with any of what had been done to me recently, but I was glad to be done with it. Relief poured in around me like warm water—relief that I was alive and had saved the man I could arguably consider to be my best friend. I took a deep shuddering breath and lifted my head, wiping my face clean and smiling at the angel in front of me.

 

“If you ever tell anyone I cried in front of you, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

 

Michael smiled back. “Your secret’s safe with me. Seems like you saved my life again.”

 

I shrugged, clearing my hoarse throat so I wouldn’t sound like Carol Channing any more. “At least I didn’t get stabbed in the chest this time.”

 

He brushed his fingertips over the fresh bruise where Belial had kicked me. “At least.”

 

“So does this mean you owe me?”

 

“I suppose so. What did you have in mind?”

 

“Can I…see your wings?”

 

Michael nodded, his voice gaining a little humor. “I think you may be worthy of it now.”

 

He closed his eyes in concentration, and then the air around us stirred. His wings sprouted from his back and stretched nearly from one wall to the other. I could only stare in awe. They were beautiful. Gabriel’s wings had a golden sheen over the white. Michael’s shone as if someone had mixed silver and pearl together to create a new color.

 

“Michael, they’re…amazing,” I murmured. I resisted the urge to touch one just to make sure it was real, but I felt that might have been a little too intimate a gesture.

 

“Thank you,” he said. When I looked back at him, I noticed our faces were far too close together and that my hands were still resting on his shoulders. That strange tension from before returned in full force, making me far more aware of his body and how we were sitting than I should have been.

 

“Jordan?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m going to have to owe you another favor.”

 

“For what?”

 

“This.” He tugged me forward enough to kiss me. I should have been shocked and appalled. I wasn’t. Everything that had been wrong with Belial’s kiss seemed to have been righted by Michael’s. His lips were soft and full and warm. He kept it chaste, no tongue, but made up for it by gently drawing my bottom lip between his and sucking. It couldn’t have lasted more than a handful of seconds yet I felt time slipping into oblivion. My fuzzy brain tried to come up with a comparison of what he tasted like. I could think of no other word than euphoria.

 

Michael drew back first and rested his forehead against mine. I caught my breath and licked my lips, trying to summon enough strength to talk.

 

“You’re going to get in big trouble for that, huh?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

“Worth it?”

 

“So worth it.”

 

With that, he grinned and stood up, offering me his hand.

 

“Let’s go home.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 

 

“You two just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” Raphael sighed as he inspected the nasty bruise on my forehead.

 

I shrugged. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

 

“Obviously. You’ve gotten in more trouble in one week than I’ve been in for a hundred years,” Gabriel mused as he dabbed a cotton ball doused with rubbing alcohol on Michael’s cuts. He didn’t seem to find it painful, but maybe he was just being manly about it. Figures.

 

“Just lucky, I guess.”

 

“Better lucky than smart,” Gabriel said. I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled.

 

“I suppose we should thank you for at least getting rid of Mulciber for a while. There’s no sign of Belial, either.”

 

I froze. “Does that mean Michael has to leave?”

 

Silence fell. Michael’s face was blank, but I noticed that his shoulders tensed just a bit.

 

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