by Anne Conley
Back at her apartment, Hope sat on her balcony, trying in vain to relax. She was always a giant knot of tension when she left her parents' house. Something about the constant visual reminders of Melissa without being able to actually discuss her made Hope a little crazy. She understood that it was her parents' way of coping with the grief, like the annual memorial service, but it didn't help Hope with her grief at all. Melissa was her sister, and the way her parents' canonized her did nothing for Hope's fragile self-esteem. While Melissa was remembered as the accomplished pre-law student wanting to work with the disadvantaged, Hope was the frumpy librarian with no ambition, unable to snare a mate.
Her butterfly danced around in her peripheral vision, and Hope idly wondered if maybe it was really a moth, since it was after dark. Did butterflies come out at night? This was the strangest butterfly she'd ever seen. As the thought crossed her mind, the butterfly landed on her arm again. It tickled.
"What are you? Are you a moth, or a butterfly?" She spoke softly, so as not to disturb it.
To her surprise, it began flashing. "Whoah…That's really cool. Are you like, a lightening bug butterfly, then?" The butterfly launched itself into the air and began flying in large swirling loop-de-loops around the balcony, flashing the entire time.
"Can I ask you something?" As if it understood her, it landed on her arm again, patiently waiting for her question.
"What is Gabe? Is he fey? An empath? A psychic? A witch?"
The butterfly's flashed faster, more erratic. Hope decided it was either angry or laughing at her. Probably laughing. She was acting completely crazy. Of course, Gabe was human. Even the butterfly could see that.
Gently, she shooed him away and went inside to love on her cats.
Chapter 6
Gabe didn’t sleep. Ever. Until now, he’d considered it a perk of being an angel. No physical needs of any sort. But tonight, he was restless for some reason, and spending time with the ill at the hospital didn’t appeal to him. To kill time until he met up with Hope again, he decided to visit the most influential religious leader on the planet, just to see how he had changed over the centuries. The Pope.
When he appeared with the man, Gabe found he wasn’t sleeping, so a dream-visit wasn’t possible. Cloaking himself, so His Holiness didn’t see him, Gabe decided to just tag along and watch the man, who seemed to be getting ready to leave the Vatican.
Dressed in regular clerical garb of black pants, black shirt, and the standard clerical collar, Gabe followed the man to a car, a used Renault being driving by another priest and positioned himself in the backseat. The casualness of the situation startled Gabe.
“Same area we went last week?” The driver turned to the Pope, sitting in the seat next to him, just like any regular man.
“Yes, please. I would like to check up on the Di’Angelos.” The Pope fingered the large silver cross hanging on a chain around his neck.
“Nice family. I hope they aren’t there, honestly. I pray they find a place to live soon. Those children shouldn’t be raised in the streets.”
“I pray for them as well. No child should be raised on the streets.” A heavy sigh filled the cramped quarters of the car and the men drove on in silence.
The priest drove them to a run-down area of town, where laundry hung out of balconies and refuse lined the streets. At the arrival of the car, dark shapes against walls of houses came to life, greeting the guests, who opened the hatchback of the car and started distributing small bundles.
Gabe watched as cheerful ciaos filled the air around the clergy. They were obviously familiar faces in these parts, and a warm feeling filled him at the kindness exhibited by these men. When the packages were gone, they sat with the people, offering words of encouragement and heartfelt prayers. Gabe planted himself next to the Pope, as he sat cross-legged with a family of seven as they ate. His humble prayers and blessings were not lost on the family, even the youngest gazed at him with wide eyes.
“I pray you find shelter and peace in your time of need.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness.” The man answered when he’d finished. That answered one of Gabe’s questions. These people were aware of who was visiting them. They knew the highest official of the Catholic Church was sitting on the ground with them, breaking bread.
“May your days and nights be blessed.” The Pope reached out his hand and with his thumb, drew an invisible cross on each person’s head, before standing and heading back to the old car. He was met there by the other priest.
When they got back inside the Vatican walls, His Holiness rested his hand on the other’s arm, and said, “Stop here a moment, please.” Turning his head slightly, he continued, “Do we have a stow-away?”
Gabriel was stunned. He wasn’t expecting his presence to be sensed. Unmasking himself, to the horror of the man driving, he shrugged at the Pope. “Forgive me Your Holiness, I was hoping to travel unnoticed.”
“I may be an old man, but I think I can see when angels visit.” The driver’s quick intake of air was the only other sound in the car. Gabriel could see the men both cross themselves and send silent prayers of gratitude heavenward. “To what do I owe the honor?” The Pope looked unabashedly grateful, his gleaming eyes wide and mouth turned up at the corners.
“Just a check-in, if you will. I was here on a completely un-related mission and decided to see how the Holy Pontiff was getting along.”
The driver had bowed his head and kissed the cross around his neck at the first sign of Gabe’s voice, and the Pope followed suit.
“And do I meet His expectations?”
This was why Gabe didn’t really like being seen. He didn’t read the Boss’s mind. Nobody could. “You follow His teachings, and you are spreading them to the masses. That’s all He could expect of you.”
The old man dressed in common priest’s garb raised his eyes to Gabe, eyes filled with hope, gratitude, and submissiveness. “Thank you.” The glazed eyes searched Gabriel’s face. “May I ask? Are you…?”
“Gabriel. And no, I have no specific message for you, but if I may be so forward as to make a suggestion?”
The Pope nodded vigorously.
Gabe gentled his voice. “You are doing wonderful works. You are bringing the Church out of a dark place where it has historically been a forbidding regime, into a place of light and hope for the masses. Be careful. People who instigate change in the norm invariably put themselves in danger. You may be Pope, but you are still human. A protection detail on your night time wanderings wouldn’t be remiss. That is from me, not The Boss.”
The Pope’s eyebrows went up, almost meeting his silver hairline at the word boss. But after some thought, they went back down to their normal position. “May I ask another question?”
Unfortunately, he knew what was coming. “I cannot read His mind, like I can yours. So, the answer is no. I do not know His views on what you wonder about.” Gabe’s voice softened in response to the man’s crestfallen expression. “I don’t think a fireside chat is in order tonight, Your Holiness.” If he could read His mind, he would know what The Boss’s intentions were regarding himself, and all the “falling” business. He would know what he’d done to offend Him.
Gabe could relate to the look of disappointment that crossed the man’s features, but they quickly morphed into a smile. “Very good. I am humbled by your visit, Gabriel.” He bowed low in the car seat, his hands clasped in front of him, and Gabe took that opportunity to leave.
He waited until after lunchtime to go and see Hope. It was strange to not see her in the morning, even though he'd only done it three times. But it seemed like something he needed to do, so when he put it off, he was a little out of sorts. It just seemed that being there when she got to work three days in a row made him seem too eager.
A little after two, he let himself into the children's room to see her sitting at her desk, stamping library cards. He waited and watched her.
She drooped today. Her normal effervescence was gone this
afternoon, and he wondered if something had happened to her. The invisible string that pulled his gut twitched, and he rubbed his stomach absently before walking up to her. He watched as she swallowed hard.
Without looking up from her stamping, she said, "I was wondering if you would come back." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as if she were choking back tears.
"Of course I came back. I’m taking you to dinner." What had given her the impression he wouldn't be back?
She looked up at him, and he could see that her eyes were indeed shiny. "Are you alright?"
"Sure." Her motions with the stamper got rougher. "Of course." Stamp. "Why do you ask?" Stamp.
"No reason. You just look…different today." He looked at her top half, the only parts visible from behind the desk. Her hair was shinier today, and she had more color on her face, even though it was painted on over features that were paler than normal. She was wearing a thin summer sweater that accentuated her bosom, and the string jerked again in his gut. He ignored it.
"I thought maybe I had overstepped boundaries when you left yesterday." She sniffed.
"No, of course not." He recollected the vision of the embrace and the kiss. He had to admit, the idea had merit. "It holds a certain…appeal." He rubbed his finger across his lip thoughtfully, as he looked at her lips and wondered idly what they felt like. He had always wondered about flavors. When he was human, would those lips have a taste? He watched as her tongue snaked out and licked her bottom lip, and wanted to ask her about it, when he noticed her flushing a deep crimson color. "What? Did I say something? I've never…done this before."
Her eyes dropped to her lap. "Done what, Gabe?"
"Wooed."
An unladylike snort erupted from her mouth. "Wooed? Who says that?"
"Um…nobody?" He was feeling uncomfortable, completely out of his element. But this was what he was supposed to do. Boss's orders. And he would follow them.
Hope stamped the last of the cards, then neatly stacked them in a small tray on the corner of her desk. She put the stamper in a drawer next to her, and stood to walk around the front of the desk, where she leaned on it casually. Gabe could see she was wearing a knee length straight skirt that showed off her legs tapering down to black heels. She really was an attractive woman.
"You don't talk to women much?" There was a smirk on her face.
"Not really. Not like this anyway."
"How is this?"
He cleared his throat. "I don't talk to women with the intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with them."
One eyebrow rose. "Romantic?"
He nodded, unsure of what to say.
"Well, for starters, you could ask me to dinner, instead of demanding that I go. How about that?"
"Okay." He softened his voice, and it deepened slightly. "Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this evening?"
Something had affected her. He watched as her eyes widened, and her tongue came out to lick her bottom lip again. Her knuckles whitened on the edge of the desk, where they gripped it tightly, and her breath quickened.
"Are you alright?"
She shook her head at him. "Yes. I'm fine." She relaxed with visible effort, and Gabe wondered what had just happened to her. "It would be my pleasure." She scooted herself up onto the edge of the desk. "Now. You have to do something else, Gabe."
"Alright, what else?"
"You need to smile at me, like you're happy to be going out with me." She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."
He smiled at her. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"
Her voice was shaky when she spoke, and Gabe wondered at the emotions that ran through humans, especially females. Would he be like this?
"You just seem to keep your cards close to your chest, Gabe. I'm never quite sure what you're thinking."
He sent her a mental image of the two of them together, entwined in a passionate embrace, similar to what she'd shown him yesterday. His experience in casting visions made it much more effective. He saw her eyes close, and watched as she experienced the vision. He saw her nipples peak through her sweater, and watched as she pressed her thighs together. He knew about lust, had never experienced it, of course. But he rather enjoyed the effect his vision was having on this woman in front of him.
When her eyes opened, the pupils of her light brown eyes had widened, darkening them, and her breaths were definitely more ragged. He smiled at her.
"Can I pick you up for dinner?"
"No. We can meet somewhere."
"Why?" He didn't understand her. She wanted him. That was obvious. That should make this easier.
"Because I don't know you from Adam, Gabe. You could be a psycho-killer. My parents taught me better than that. I'm not getting into a car with you until I at least know your last name, and maybe not even then."
"It's Love," he sputtered, without thinking at all.
"What?"
Unable to unspeak the word, he repeated himself. "It's Love. My last name is Love."
"Gabriel Love?" She didn't seem to believe him, so he filled his voice with conviction.
"Yes. Love. I don't have anything to do this afternoon, so I thought I might just wait until you get off. Is that alright?"
There was mirth in her eyes as she nodded, and he wondered what he’s said to give her joy. A cluster of children came through the door just then, followed by a harried mother. "And then we can meet at the restaurant afterwards?"
She nodded again before turning to help the children find books.
Gabriel sat in the chair he'd occupied the other day, surprised that he didn't seem to fit it right today. He hadn't noticed it being quite this uncomfortable when he'd sat in it before. He managed an hour of it before he had to walk around to stretch his limbs.
That was odd. He could feel his muscles stretching in his legs. It was a different sensation from his norm. Usually, he felt his muscles when he first entered his corporeal body from his spiritual one, but it was more of a mechanical feeling. This muscle connected to that one, stretching along-side this other one. But today, he felt them burning a little as he stretched, and that was…different.
Hope tried desperately to stay busy until it was time for her to go home. She re-shelved books, read to children, answered questions, and retained her calm façade, all while her heart pounded at the nearness of Gabe.
She had just about convinced herself he was a shifter, although she wasn't sure what kind of animal he was. Yesterday, at lunch, he was a cat of some sort. All nonchalance, with bouts of predatoriness. Today, though, he was less sure of himself, very formal, almost like an apprentice wizard or something.
He was certainly a dichotomy. His features gave him a feminine look, but coupled with his massive frame that exuded strength, he was definitely a force for her to watch. And he seemed unsure of himself sometimes, like he was in uncharted territory. At the same time, he seemed completely sure of himself that the world would turn backwards if he said it was so. And then there were the times when it seemed as if he was only fulfilling a duty, although why anyone’s duty would be to “woo” a woman in the twenty-first century, Hope had no idea.
She had been so disappointed when she'd gotten to work this morning and he hadn't been here. Hope didn't know why, but she'd thought that she'd done something to run him off. After last night, she really needed something to boost her confidence, and her outfit wasn't doing it for her.
Every time she remembered his declaration to try to "woo" her, she giggled to herself. And every time she looked at Gabe, he was watching her. Mr. Cat was back. All predatory and stuff. A tremor ran through her.
When it was finally time for her to leave, she found him at her elbow, anticipating her movements.
"Are you ready?" He enquired, grasping her elbow to lead her out of the library.
"Not quite. I'd like to go home and change first, if that's okay."
He looked her up and down. "Why? You look lovely."
Hope could feel the blush creep up
her cheeks. "Really?" She wished she hadn't said that. It made her sound like she was fishing for compliments. "I mean. I've been working all day in these clothes. I wouldn't mind putting something fresh on." Not that she really had that many clothes to choose from that fit her.
"Really, Hope. You look delightful."
"Okay, well then, where are we going?"
"Have you been to the French steakhouse a few blocks over?"
That was so far out of her budget, she didn't even look at it when she drove by. "Nope. Sounds good. See you there in ten minutes?"
He smiled at her again, "Sure." He really should give her warning when he was going to do that.
When she got into her car, she ran a brush through her hair, trying to tame the fly-aways. She'd actually straightened it this morning and was pleased with the result. She'd also applied make-up, which she touched up quickly before starting her engine and driving to the steakhouse. When she got there, she was reticent to leave her car. She needed a plan.
He seemed interested in her. He'd actually said he was pursuing a romantic relationship with her. But to what end? And what did she really know about him? She knew he was different from any other guy she'd gone out with. He probably didn't even know what D and D was. And he was beautiful. That right there put him on a plane far from any of her other boyfriends. And he was psychic. He could send her visions and sensations and words.
At the library, she'd been nearly undone by the vision he'd sent of them kissing. It was like a dream, in that she couldn't recall the exact sensations, but she could recall that she'd gotten flushed and squirmy all the way to her toes. If that's what one of his visions felt like, then what would the real thing be like?