by Anne Conley
The auburn-haired man threw his head back to the sky and let out the loudest laugh Faith had ever heard. At the same time, the other two moved forward, Gabriel removing Michael’s hand from her shoulder while the man Faith had guessed was Uriel wrapped his arm around her waist.
“We’re so glad to meet you, Faith.” His voice was low in her ear, and Faith giggled at the growl emanating from Michael. “I’m Uri. Come on, meet the other girls.” He led her away from Michael, and when she looked back over her shoulder, she saw his eyes were on hers fiercely, but he was following, Gabriel having thrown his arm over Michael’s shoulder. She smiled at him, trying to reassure him, but he didn’t look happy at being separated. She giggled at his discomfiture.
So many things made more sense to her after meeting everybody. The other women were named Grace, Hope, and Heather, who’d had a stage name of Heaven. She wondered, like Michael had, if their names were a driving force behind God’s choices, and then felt a pang of something at the idea that if she’d been named anything else, she might not have met Michael.
Everybody seemed to get enormous enjoyment from teasing Michael about his prickly demeanor, which only intensified the longer it went on. The siblings seemed to revel in pushing his buttons, and Faith took notes. Pushing his buttons was one of her favorite pastimes. His silver eyes squinted at his brothers, and his pouty lips pursed over the little patch of hair each time someone picked on him, and Faith found it sexy as hell.
She couldn’t remember when she’d giggled so much. And the laughter never stopped all afternoon. She’d been right in her guesses on which man had been which archangel, and that elicited a pleased giggle from her. Another one came when Rafael had started flipping burgers onto plates he held behind his back, only dropping two into the sand and then giving them to Michael. More giggles at the girls’ good-natured joking about feeding their men after watching them all inhale three hamburgers each, along with potato salad, chips, fruit salad, and then starting in on an enormous bowl of banana pudding.
The giggles turned to full-on, belly clutching guffaws when Michael had enough of the others’ good-natured jabs at his prickly demeanor. Darkness had fallen, and they’d pulled out a box of fireworks. Michael lit a Roman candle, chasing Rafael around the beach, aiming the colorful bursts of flaming sparks at his back, managing to ignite his shirt. When Rafe stripped out of his shirt, stomping on it, he yelled at Michael, “I’m mortal, dammit! Don’t do shit like that!” Faith lost it. Laughter bubbled out of her, stopping Michael in his tracks, and he abruptly stalked toward her, the spent Roman candle dropping from his hands. Neither of them noticed the others laughing in the background.
He dropped next to her on the sand and rolled over on top of her. His grin was mischievous. “Having fun?”
Breathlessly, she answered truthfully. “Absolutely. I’m having the time of my life. Your family is awesome.” She hadn’t had a family in so long she’d forgotten what it was all about. And when she had one, it certainly hadn’t been like this.
“I hope you get your fill, cuz this isn’t going to happen very often. Once a decade, tops.”
She knew he was having fun regardless of his words. His eyes were twinkling at her in the darkness, but he took her breath away with his next words.
“Next time we all get together, we’ll have to meet at one of those pizza joints with all the video games so the kids can play.”
Kids? She swallowed. “What kids?”
A slow smile crossed his face. “Well, Uri and Heather have one at a babysitter tonight. Gabe and Hope are trying. Not sure about Rafe and Grace, something about her not being able to do some internship preggo, but I’m not going to be left out of this one. I want a mini-me.”
“Or a mini-me?”
She felt the growl of pleasure emanate from his throat and rumble down his chest, pressed against hers.
“Even better.”
Epilogue:
Damien, as he preferred to be called lately, slumped on the edge of the bed, his mind spinning. Of all the Four Winds, Michael’s reaction had surprised him the most. He’d expected him to fight like the rest. No. Harder than the rest. He was the Warrior, after all.
But he’d surrendered instead, sacrificing himself. Damien was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around that. Seeing Michael in that submissive posture had almost given him a hard on.
Almost.
“Ahem.” His attention was diverted by The Boss, standing in front of him. Snapping his gaze up, Damien stifled the rising alarm in his gut. As much as he hated the sensation, displeasing his Father was distasteful to him.
Damien watched while The Boss, assured of his attention, began a slow pace of the small cabin bedroom.
“I’ve let you run wild, do your own thing, so to speak.” His index finger was at His lips, as if in deep thought, even though Damien knew He didn’t think. He just was. “You’ve taken advantage of My good nature, time and time again.”
“Yes, Sir.” Damien hated this sheepish side of him. He didn’t feel guilty, but knew it was expected of him, so he schooled his features into an appropriate hangdog look, casting his eyes down to the bare wood floor.
“I don’t like it.” The Boss stopped and turned toward him, putting His hands in the front pockets of His three-piece suit. “But when we made our original deal, I told you that you were on your own, so I let you be. Even though you went far and beyond My greatest expectations, I know that doing away with you completely will upset the balance on Earth. I can’t let that happen.”
“You forsook me.” He was annoyed at the peevishness of his own voice.
Anger flashed in His eyes, and Damien cowered in spite of himself. “You are not forsaken! I cast you down, gave you a domain of your own, and let you be. You made your own bed.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“That’s not the biggest problem with you, and I think you know it. You liked it. You probably still do.” Leaning against the far wall, He studied Damien. “Do you?”
Damien shrugged, honestly unsure. Did he enjoy wreaking havoc and destruction on the humans? Did he enjoy his damned pets? He certainly made a big show of everything but wasn’t sure how much was genuine anymore.
“Here’s what we’ll do. If you give Me time to find a suitable replacement for you, so the balance isn’t upset, I’ll find you a woman, and you can meet mortality.”
Hopelessness filled Damien. “There’s not a woman out there for me.”
His voice sounded so sure of Himself. “Of course there is. If there’s not, I can make you one. Look who you’re talking to.”
Damien did. The Boss looked entirely capable, and Damien knew that as the Creator, He was. It was hard to fold and give it all up though. He nodded, scheming on how he could do both.
“You know your deals with Me won’t work, don’t you?”
Damien nodded, unsure if He could read his mind or not. The Boss held out his hand, and Damien gripped it firmly, not immediately noticing the tingling in his limbs at the contact. When all went black though, Damien roared.
He’d been tricked. He was trapped somewhere devoid of light, sound, possibly even air. The Boss’ voice rang inside his head.
“I’ll hold my end of the bargain, Damien, but you must leave the boys’ women alone. You’ll just rest here until I’ve found the one for you. You’ll know when it’s time.”
Damien raged, and at the same time he exalted. It was finally his time. He would have a woman of his own. He just hoped she was good. He needed someone good to spend the rest of his days with.
Thank you so much for reading Falling for Faith. If you’ve gotten this far, I’d like to encourage you to leave a review on your platform of choice. Reviews make the world go ‘round! Thank you so much. I appreciate your thoughts.
About Anne:
Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She’s been writing for public
consumption for the last four years. Currently she is writing two romance series. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God’s four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.
She loves hearing from those who have read her stories, so feel free to contact her at [email protected]. Alternately, you can catch her on Facebook, where she spends entirely too much time, at www.facebook.com/anneconleyauthor. She’s also on Goodreads, and Pinterest (where she needs to spend more time).