by Debra Dunbar
“Party bus. Party bus.” Snip chanted.
“Party bus it is,” Nyalla announced. Gabriel still had the deer-in-headlights expression, so she grabbed his hand and dragged him out to the front of the hotel to wait for the bus. It didn’t take long. This time of the evening they seemed to run by the hotel every ten minutes. In no time at all, a double-decker, open-roof bus drove up to the hotel entrance, scantily clad people screaming and cheering from the top deck.
“Upper seats!” Snip announced, climbing the back stairs. Nyalla dragged Gabriel upward, squeezing in beside him as they sat. The brightly colored plastic chairs were sticky, and the two women in front of them turned around and handed them a pint bottle of rum. Then their eyes slid to Gabriel and widened.
“Thank you.” The angel took the bottle and promptly passed it to Nyalla.
“Not a rum man?” One of the women asked, her voice husky. “What’s your poison, babe?”
Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked at the bottle before meeting their gaze once more. “In this form, arsenic, nightshade, a significant quantity of poppy derivative, or mercury. This body is particularly fragile and would find many types of substances to be lethal, even in miniscule dosages.”
The women giggled. “Oh, that’s so funny. Isn’t he funny? What’s your name, gorgeous?”
Gabriel looked to Nyalla. “Gabriel, arch– just call me G-man.” Then he reached over and draped an arm across Nyalla’s shoulder. “And this is my female woman-type committed relationship person, Nyalla. We aren’t having sexual relations, but we have the emotional connection that human couples have. A bond. An exclusive bond. So I am unavailable to copulate with any other human.”
Oh by the Goddess, he was hiding behind her skirts.
“G-man doesn’t drink,” Nyalla announced. Then she grabbed the angel’s cheek and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “And yes, I am his girlfriend.”
He blinked at her in surprise, but didn’t protest at the physical display of affection. The two women turned around after retrieving their bottle, but still continued to send admiring glances behind them at the angel.
“Humans are very friendly,” he whispered to Nyalla. “Normally I can keep them at a distance, but I can tell that now they want to touch me all the time. It’s very disconcerting.”
“Keep scowling and you won’t have that problem,” she said.
“I’m not scowling,” he scowled.
She giggled. “No. Of course not. Mighty archangels don’t scowl. How silly of me.”
Terrelle and Snip joined in the rum-bottle passing fun, and by the time the bus pulled up at the corner, the two demons were half smashed. The pair barely made it down the bus steps without falling on their faces.
“Your bodyguards are impaired.” Gabriel frowned.
“They’re demons. They can sober up in a blink of an eye. I’d rather they blend in with the other tourists then have the four of us walk off a party bus looking like we were heading into a gunfight at the OK Corral.”
Because that’s how Gabriel looked. Was he always this way? Nyalla remembered Sam saying how humorless he was. Could she get him to smile? Or laugh? That might be her new life’s mission.
“Is this where we’re dining?” Snip clapped his hands together. “I love it. You always pick the best places, Nyalla.”
She smiled and took a notepad from her bag, flipping it to a page with the heading ‘Places to go and things to do in Aruba” and crossing an item off the list.
“They serve food here?” Gabriel asked.
She’d be the first to admit that the MooMba didn’t look like a restaurant. It was two side-by-side giant palapas, with conical grass roofs and thick wooden posts and beams. A circular bar took up the majority of one of the open-sided huts, with high-top tables around the edges of one palapa and low tables under the other. The whole place was lit up with tiny lights, music barely masking the sound of the surf. A few hundred feet of sand separated the MooMba from the water, a pier with shops and a bar visible just to the left. On either side of the huts were tree- and shrub-lined paths leading to the nearby hotels and the street.
“They have live music after sunset,” Nyalla announced. “And I read that their food is pretty good. It’s the atmosphere I was going for, though. Isn’t this cool?”
She watched Gabriel carefully, knowing the two demons would approve, but desperately wanting him to enjoy the evening. He’d probably never done this sort of thing before, and it was oddly important to her that he experience how much fun it could be to live as a human.
“The evening air combined with the breeze coming off the ocean does make it cool,” he said. “Of course, I appreciate the beauty of al fresco dining, especially so close to the ocean. And the primitive palapas with their rustic furnishings and décor give the place a pleasing ambiance.”
Nyalla guessed that was a close as she was ever going to get to approval from the angel. “I’m glad you like it. Now let’s get a table and order.”
Once seated, Nyalla took charge of the food, ordering ceviche to start, Argentinian chorizo for an appetizer, then a mix of seafood entries — grouper, golden snapper, sea bass, and shrimp. Gabriel stared at the table full of food, clutching his stomach.
“You need to eat,” Nyalla told him. “You’ll start feeling weak if you don’t.”
He scowled. “Angels…I mean, I don’t eat. I’m fasting right now. Maybe tomorrow. I just need…time.”
“So just water?” Terrelle waved a piece of chorizo right under the angel’s nose. “What a shitty place to go on a fast. The food here is amazing. I don’t know how you can stand to sit there and smell all of this and not at least take one teensy-eensy little bite.”
Gabriel’s jaw set and he swallowed. “I have incredible willpower as well as the ability to resist temptation. And I don’t need food.”
This had to stop or the stupid angel was going to be dead of starvation before the week was out. Of course, now wasn’t the time to get into a quarrel with Gabriel. She’d wait until Terrelle and Snip were gone and they were alone before she put forth her very convincing argument on why he should give in to his human needs, and how ‘sin’ had very different definition now that he was no longer an angel. With demons, any contract had to be worded just so. She was used to finding verbal loopholes and this would be no different. In the meantime, she intended to enjoy every bite of this amazing grouper.
“So what’s our plan for tomorrow night?” Terrelle asked. The information demon was eyeing Gabriel oddly, as if she suspected the truth. Wonderful. Nyalla would need to bribe her to keep the secret if the demon found out. Not that bribery would be a problem, but Gabriel would no doubt have worries that the demon would let what had happened to him slip out at a very inopportune moment. Honestly, she had the same worries.
“We get to Charlie’s early and get settled in. You two hang out by the bar or something while I speak to the Gormand. That way you’re close enough if I need you.”
“He’ll still sense us,” Snip said. “He’ll know we’re in the bar, and he knows about me. He probably knows about Terrelle, too. Demons do their homework, especially when doing deals like this. We’d need to be halfway across the island for him not to know we’re with you.”
Nyalla bit her lip. “Well, that’s too far. He’s just going to have to deal with the situation. I’ll argue that you’re not at the negotiating table, and that you need to be nearby for my own safety. He’ll be flattered that he’s so much of a threat that I need bodyguards.”
Gabriel snorted. “He’s not much of a threat if your bodyguards are a Low and a Noodle. That’s more of an insult than any sort of flattery.”
Terrelle glared at him. “I’m going to ignore that. And remind you that I need to look at this artifact, whatever the heck it is, to verify that it’s real. If I can even do that.”
Gabriel blinked. “You don’t know what it is? Does no one know what it is? What if this Gormand decides to pass off an o
ld banana or a random piece of pottery as the artifact?”
“I’m not inept,” the information demon snarled. “I can tell a magical item from an old banana. I just am not sure if I can tell one magical item from another, especially since I don’t know what I’m looking for and haven’t had time to appropriately research it. I’d like to see you do better.”
“I probably could, given that I’ve seen–”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Nyalla put her hands between the two. “Enough. Terrelle is better than Wikipedia when it comes to this stuff. And you,” she pointed at Gabriel, “you are a human who probably can’t tell a banana from an avocado, so button it up.”
The angel clamped his mouth shut, staring sullenly down at the untouched glass of water in front of him. “Fine.”
Fine. It wasn’t fine. Gabriel was going to have half the island knowing what he had been and what had happened if he didn’t stop acting like an angel. Nyalla wouldn’t need to worry about keeping his secret, because it would be all over the hemisphere before they even returned home. And she didn’t want him mad at her, or pouting like this. Her goal this evening was to make him smile, and so far, she’d been failing miserably.
Time to break out the not-so-secret weapon. “Let’s call it a night. We’ll connect tomorrow, but plan to meet in the lobby around five to head to Charlie’s if we don’t. Until then, go have fun.”
Snip practically knocked his chair over in his haste to get up. “I’m going to that bar down at the end of the pier and see if there’s anyone drunk enough to have sex with me.”
Terrelle also got up, still glaring at Gabriel. “And I will go back to my room to research what potential artifact this item might be. Because that’s my area of expertise, and I’m damned good at it.”
Nyalla watched the two demons head off, handed cash and the bill to the waitress with a smile, then turned to Gabriel. “Dance with me.”
His head jerked toward her. “What? Dance? As in coordinate bodily movements in time with the beat of the music?”
“Yes. Humans dance. We love music. Don’t angels love music?”
He tilted his head, regarding her with curiosity. “Yes, we do, but this is different from the human music we appreciate. And angels don’t dance.”
She stood. “Maybe they should. If you like music, why shouldn’t you enjoy it with more than your ears. If a song is truly sublime, shouldn’t your entire body experience it?”
He stood and she could see he was undecided, teetering on the edge of giving in. “But to enjoy things of the flesh is to lower our vibration pattern. It may not be exactly sinful, but it certainly can’t be in keeping with our holy quest to touch the divine.”
“Actually I think it is. We humans also want to touch the divine, but we have to live with the limitations of our physical form and our lower vibration pattern. Isn’t our quest for enlightenment just as valid as yours, or are we forever condemned because of the nature of our birth?”
He hesitated, eyeing the other dancers. “I meant no disrespect. I haven’t known you for very long Nyalla, but you seem to have a purity of spirit that gives me hope for the human race. Perhaps there are many paths to the divine. Yours may be a valid path, but it’s a human path and I’m an angel.”
“You’re not an angel at the moment. Should your quest for the divine be put on hold because of your temporary circumstances, or should you continue to seek and improve yourself only as a human?”
“Perhaps,” he mused. “But some of those dancers…that is a very physical enjoyment of music. It’s too sensory. I feel I may cross into an unacceptable area if I indulge in such a thing.”
“Ears are physical. You use them, use the sense of hearing to enjoy human music. You use your eyes to enjoy the beauty of the world that surrounds us — a world gifted to us by the creator. Why not use your other senses to see and experience the splendor of life?”
He took a deep breath. “I will try this dancing experience, but if I feel it is sinful, then we will stop.”
She hid a smile. “Absolutely. I would never ask you to sin.”
She wouldn’t, but she got the feeling that her definition of sin was very different than Gabriel’s. Oh well. It was high time this stuffy angel broadened his horizons, and saw the beauty, the purity that was inherent in something he’d always avoided.
Nyalla took his hand and led him to the dance floor in front of the palapas. The moon shone down on them, illuminating the night. Tiny white lights that looked like flying fairies hung around the wooden beams. Putting one hand on his waist and the other around his neck, she pulled him close and swayed to the music.
He stood awkwardly with his hands by his sides for a moment, then mirrored her position, easily following her steps and the movements of her body. Everything seemed to come together like pieces of a puzzle — the moon and stars, the sound of the band and the soft noise of the surf, the fairy lights, Gabriel’s strong arms around her, his body just inches away, his breath stirring the hair on the top of her head. It was glorious and Nyalla rested her cheek against the angel’s chest, leaning into him. He put his cheek on the top of her head, tightening his arms so that she snuggled tight against his body.
“I like this.” His voice was soft and husky. “I understand the appeal and how this adds to the enjoyment of the song, but I don’t think it’s the movement of my body that enhances the experience, it’s your closeness to me. I think humans need physical contact. It amplifies everything. The shared connection, the mutual enjoyment of something is what brings humans closer to the divine.”
“Hush.” She smiled against his chest, rubbing her hand along the hard muscles of his back. “Stop analyzing everything. Just be quiet and for once in your crazy long life enjoy the moment.”
He did as she said, and Nyalla felt him relax against her, all the tension draining from his body. When the song was over and they pulled apart, she saw a peace in his blue-gray eyes that hadn’t been there since she’d met him.
“So, what did you think?” she asked, holding her breath in anticipation of his answer.
“I think that there is more to being human that I ever realized.” Then he smiled and her heart skipped a beat at his beauty. “I think that perhaps many things I’ve always considered sinful, might just be a different side to the same coin.”
She let out the breath. “I’m glad, because I hated the thought that you believed me and the other humans to be lesser beings, to be sinful and incapable of seeking and achieving grace.”
His gaze warmed. “Nyalla, in spite of my insensitive and ill-judged words, I don’t consider you to be a lesser being. Nor do I consider you incapable of achieving grace.” He smiled, this time his eyes sparking with silver lights. “But I still am reluctant to consume food, no matter how tempting that grouper smelled.”
One step at a time. Nyalla linked her arm in his. “Forget the party bus. Let’s walk back to the hotel along the beach and dip our feet in the surf. Would that physical, sensory experience be acceptable to you?”
The smile deepened. “A walk along the beach with my feet in the water is more than acceptable. Far more than acceptable.”
Chapter 8
Gabriel was thankful for the silence as they walked back to the hotel. The dancing had cast a sort of spell over him and he felt content, at peace. Was that what Nyalla had meant when she’d said sensory experiences were often a human’s path to grace?
This whole nightmare of being human…perhaps it was serving a much-needed purpose. He now saw them in a different light. The music, the dancing, the cool night breeze, the moonlight glistening off the water, the feel of his feet sinking into the sand, of the warm water surging in to cover his toes, then sliding back out again — it was downright meditative. He hadn’t felt this way since before the rebellion began in Aaru. It was wonderful. And so was Nyalla’s arm brushing against his. He reached out and took her hand, feeling the need to touch her, to have a connection with another human who was experiencing the
same balanced, centered, one-with-the-creator feeling.
In front of the hotel she tugged him over to a chickie surrounding a short coconut tree and let go of his hand to plop down in one of the chairs. He sat beside her and they both stared out at the ebb and flow of the ocean.
It reminded him of Aaru. It reminded him of his uncertain future, of the uncertain future all the angels faced. They were locked out of Aaru, possibly forever. He’d never see his homeland again. And there was a chance that he’d be trapped as a human, without wings or grace, forever. Actually, not forever. If the spell didn’t wear off, he’d live out a normal human life. He’d age, get sick, have to deal with an increasingly feeble body, and in forty or fifty years, he’d die. A mighty archangel, banished from his homeland, dead in a blink of an eye after spending the last decades of his life in this fragile form. The peace he’d been feeling vanished, and Gabriel found himself on the edge of panic.
“Are you okay? Gabriel?”
He felt her touch, grounding him and pulling him from the edge. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breathing, concentrating on Nyalla’s hand on his arm. “You don’t need to call me Gabriel. Just call me Gabe.”
The suffix seemed silly at this point. ‘El’ was a title given to the most powerful angels. He may have earned the title long ago, but it just didn’t apply when he was a human. Even so, Nyalla should be granted permission to address him informally just as his siblings did. She’d seen him at his worst, was helping him navigate this human world, was keeping his secret. In his eyes, she was just as much a part of his family as his brothers and sister.
More. Because as much as he loved his siblings, had loved them for the four billion years of his life, what he felt for Nyalla was strangely different — more intense, more sensory, more human. More.
She didn’t respond to his request, so he opened his eyes and looked over at her. Her mouth had twisted, like she was clenching it to keep it still. Her eyes were shiny with wetness and sorrow. She knew. She knew every emotion he was battling, every bit of fear and grief that was racing through his very human body. Then suddenly her chin lifted, a smile trembling on her lips.
