by Debra Dunbar
The food tasted amazing. It was all he could do to keep from shoveling it down his throat in a completely gluttonous manner. “This omelet is quite acceptable, by the way. I commend your food preparation skills. I’m concerned that kale and beets will be equally delicious and I’ll find myself having to force myself to restrain from overindulging.”
She beamed. “Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my cooking. And trust me, you won’t find kale and beets delicious.” her smile turned a shade wicked. “And here is that coffee you’ve been resisting for the last year or so.”
Gabriel ate a few more bites and eyed the cups she’d sat in front of his plate. They held liquids of varying shades of brown, some with empty white packets next to them. “I struggle with this even more than the food. It’s not so much the sin of gluttony that I’m afraid of. I’ve made it a practice to refuse coffee every time it’s been offered, and believe me, the Iblis would love to hold me to the floor and pour it down my throat if she could. I’ve never given in. Never. And here I am, a human, about to drink coffee.”
Nyalla sat across from him. “Then don’t. It’s a common human beverage. I like it, and I thought you might enjoy it too. But if it’s important for you to hold fast on this one drink, so be it. That way you can tell Sam that you’ve never ever had coffee and never will. But if you want to try it, then you can trust me to keep it a secret. Maybe you’ll only drink coffee when you’re alone, or only with me and no one else present. It’s up to you.”
It was such a relief to hear her say that. He’d feel better about all his other sensory experiences if he could hold firm and continue to deny himself this one thing.
“I’ll not drink the coffee. Although I feel terrible that you went to all this effort and I’m not even going to try it.”
“It doesn’t require much effort to make.” She pointed to each of the mugs. “Just for your edification, humans enjoy coffee either with or without additives. This one is black with nothing added. This one black with sugar. These other ones have varying amounts of sugar and milk.”
He eyed them with interest. “The cow’s milk. How does my brother like his coffee?”
She laughed. “With so much sugar that he should have an insulin chaser. And it’s about half cream, too. Sam likes hers black with no sugar. Rafi likes to change it up each time he comes over, so I never know how he’s going to want his coffee. Once I saw him pour a bunch of Sam’s vodka in his. He made me promise not to tell her. Sam is very possessive about her vodka.”
He couldn’t help but shake his head. “Greed, gluttony, anger, sloth, envy, lust… The only sin that imp doesn’t wallow in is pride. A bit ironic given that pride is the sin that angels struggle against the most.”
She propped her chin in her hands. “Which sin do you struggle most against? You don’t seem to be particularly prideful, and even with how rapidly you devoured that omelet, I can’t see you as gluttonous.”
“Envy.” He didn’t even need to think about that one. “It’s the curse of the middle sibling to struggle with envy. Not that the order of our creation should ever excuse sin. How about you? Is there a sin you find particularly hard to resist?”
Her eyebrows knitted and she shook her head slowly, taking some time before answering. “I don’t really feel that any of the sins has an irresistible appeal, but I believe that enjoyment in moderation isn’t a sin. Of course, every human has a different idea of where to draw the line between moderation and excess.”
He nodded. “You don’t seem the type to fall under the sway of sin. In that way, you’re a better angel than I am.”
She laughed. “Oh hardly. I know many would say that lust will be my downfall given the number of men I’ve dated in the past few years. I don’t see lust as a sin, though — at least not good old-fashioned healthy enjoyment of sex. It’s not just for making babies. Sex relieves stress. It’s enjoyable, and it bonds people together. Even casual sex. There’s a closeness that happens between two people, a feeling of not being alone in the world. I guess if sex becomes obsessive or harmful, it could be considered a sin, but I don’t believe the act itself could be. Nothing so wonderful could be sinful.”
He looked down at the half-eaten omelet. “By that definition, the consumption of food, the acquisition of material goods…“
“I think the sin is in the excess. Surrounding yourself with beautiful things, crafting food that both meets our nutritional needs and is pleasurable — these things are part of the beauty of life as a human. In moderation, of course. Selfishly hoarding items, eating and drinking to the point that you damage your body or adversely affect your ability to function — that’s crossing into sin, in my opinion.”
He swirled his fork in the food on his plate. Eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables. It had a pleasing flavor and an enjoyable mixture of textures, but he didn’t feel the urge to gorge himself to excess. Could he have been wrong all these billions of years? Had he been on the wrong path all along? “You feel the key is to be centered. To not be an ascetic, nor live in hedonistic excess, but in the middle.”
She smiled, two adorable dimples in her cheeks. “I’ll admit that the occasional excess can be enjoyable too. But yes, traveling the middle path seems to work the best for me.”
He stood, taking her empty plate along with his to the sink. “Go get your shower and I will clean these dishes.
She walked up beside him, brushing her shoulder against his arm as she put the coffee cups into the sink. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”
Aaru forbid. “I’ve seen your attempts at cleaning. I’d just end up re-washing the dishes anyway. Go get your shower. You cook. I clean. It’s the perfect division of labor.
She stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “It is. And thank you.”
He finished the dishes, then sat and read one of her books while Nyalla completed her personal cleanliness routines. The book was quite interesting, about a human woman who had been captured when the ship she’d been traveling on was boarded by rapscallion pirates. Lucky for her, they didn’t seem inclined to kill her. Unluckily for her, the pirate captain appeared barely able to keep himself from raping the woman any time he was near. Gabe was quite concerned they’d not make it to port before the woman lost her virtue, especially when the deep breaths she constantly took apparently made her bosom rise and fall with a seductive lure that the captain struggled to resist. He’d just gotten to the part where the captain was about to kill a member of his crew for succumbing to the heaving bosoms and tearing the woman’s dress, when there was a knock on the door.
“I’ve got it,” Nyalla called as she headed toward the door. “Wait. Are you reading one of my books? Uhh, maybe we should buy you some different reading material.”
“Oh no, I’m quite enjoying this one,” he told her, carefully marking his place in the book. Don’t tell me the ending. I’m eager to discover for myself if the captain is able to restrain himself enough to gain Annette’s consent before he attempts penetrative intercourse with her.”
Nyalla made an odd choking noise, then clamped her lips together before turning to open the door. Terrelle bustled in, her arms full of bags. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Gabe, her eyes doing the same downward journey as Nyalla’s had before breakfast.
“Fuck me. Why did you make me buy clothes? He needs to just go everywhere naked. A body that perfect shouldn’t ever be covered up.”
Gabriel spread his arms and looked downward at this human form he was stuck in for the foreseeable future. “Honestly, I have no idea why humans feel the need to cover their bodies. I understand the necessity for additional warmth in some climates, but when in the more temperate zones, clothing seems superfluous. No other mammal, or any animal, does this. I would refuse to comply with such ridiculous customs, but it’s important to blend in. And I’m told public nudity makes humans very uncomfortable and that I could possibly face incarceration.”
“Oh I totally agree with you about the silliness of human nudity la
ws,” Nyalla said. “The elves don’t have such issues with various body parts being visible. Clothing in Hel is a decoration, not for some ridiculous modesty standard.”
“Well, maybe that will change now that the elves are here,” Terrelle said, still staring at Gabe. “If so, that’s the only positive to their migration from Hel. I’m all in favor of public nudity. Especially when people look like G-man here.”
“Sadly that hasn’t yet come to pass.” Gabe took the bags from her hand and began to pull out various articles of clothing. There were several pair of pants that were so short the hems would come to above his knee. One additional pair of jeans. Two t-shirts, and four very colorful short-sleeved, button downs. There was also something that the tag said was a pair of swim trunks plus a dozen plaid boxer shorts and a packet of socks. From another bag he pulled out two pairs of footwear, shaded-lens glasses, and some toiletry items similar to what Nyalla already had in the bathroom.
“Your own toothbrush.” Nyalla waved it in front of him. “That way you don’t have to use mine and run it through the dishwasher. And this is a razor.”
He eyed the device. “It has a sharp blade between two bits of plastic and a handle. Is it a weapon?”
“A weapon against the horrible hipster trend of lumberjack beards.” She giggled then reached out to run her fingers over his cheek. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this scruffy look on you. It’s edgy. It goes great with that sexy scowl of yours. I just don’t want it to slide into beard territory, and I get the feeling if you don’t shave every day, you’ll be looking like you should be wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a pair of Doc Martens by the end of the week.”
“You’ll show me how to use it?”
There was a spark of something in her eyes, and he once again felt that pesky appendage twitch and stiffen.
“I will absolutely show you how to use it. Tonight, I’ll give you a shave. It would be my pleasure.”
Terrelle snorted. “It’s getting a bit too hot in here for me. Whatever fucking you guys are going to do, hurry it up. We’re supposed to meet the Gormand downstairs at La Mer tonight and I get the feeling that once you two get started, I won’t be seeing you outside the bedroom for weeks.”
Nyalla laughed. “Don’t worry. We have a busy day on the water planned. I’m not about to forget about the reason we’re here, either. I won’t make you two handle this alone. And I especially need you as back-up. Facing that Gormand all alone is unnerving.”
“You won’t be all alone,” Gabe told her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, even if these worthless demons abandon their post.”
“Hey!” Terrelle folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Who are you calling worthless? We’ll be there. And if anything happens, we’ll protect Nyalla. You just worry about making sure that pretty face of yours doesn’t get bruised.”
Gabriel gathered up the bags and headed into the bedroom. “No offense, but you’re an information demon, and the other one is a Low. I might be a human, but I’m better equipped to protect her than you are. Worthless or not, It’s your job to make sure she’s safe. You’ve been tasked with this, and I suggest you take it seriously. Because if Nyalla so much as suffers a paper cut, I’ll take it out of your hide. Understood?”
There was an odd smile on Terrelle’s face. “Understood. Very, very much understood.”
Chapter 11
Gabriel had taken Nyalla’s words at breakfast to heart. Whatever the future might hold, he was a human right now and he needed to adjust his ideas of was a good and moral path to accommodate the needs of this physical form. And its limitations, as well. He’d consume healthy food and drink in moderation. He’d steer clear of vice, and strive to be ideal in more human terms. As a result, while Nyalla was down making arrangements for their day’s activities, he read every bit of material in the hotel room that he could find in hopes of becoming a better human.
The instruction manual for the microwave was particularly enlightening as was a book on Brazilian Cuisine. He mastered operation of the television and remote via a helpful card permanently affixed to the stand. There were also instructive notes posted in the room about emergency exits, what to do in case of a fire, and the various activities that were not allowed in the room, as well as how to place the bath linen if he wished to have clean replacements.
Nyalla had not returned even after he’d completed reading all the material the hotel room had to offer, so Gabe turned his attention back to her books. He finished the pirate book, quite happy that Annette had finally decided to consent to sexual intercourse with the captain, who proved to be a loyal and devoted partner. That left him to choose between a novel about an emotionally damaged hockey player and a plucky news reporter, or one about a dystopian-type world where angels lived among the humans and ruled in a very autocratic, hands-on fashion.
That cut a little too close to non-fiction for him. But as drawn as he was to the emotionally damaged hockey player and plucky reporter, Gabe couldn’t help but begin reading the other book, mostly because the main angel-character’s name was Raphael, and it seemed very amusing to be reading about his brother in a fictional tale.
And the book was quite enlightening, if somewhat disturbing. By the time Nyalla arrived back into the room, he had questions.
“Have you read this one yet?” he asked. “These angels are truly horrible beings. And I really do not appreciate how this Raphael character treats the human woman. I don’t care how devastatingly attractive he is, he is cruel and manipulative, and clearly abuses his power. Just because the human is a lesser being doesn’t give him the right to act in a threatening manner toward her. If my brother Rafi ever behaved this way, he would be doing penance for centuries.”
Her lips twitched as she closed the door behind her. “It’s a romance. Women find powerful men attractive. And while in real life we might not appreciate being manipulated and threatened, sometimes we like to fantasize about reforming a bad-boy.”
Gabe tossed the book aside in disgust. Then picked it back up, carefully marked the page, and lined it up on top of the others. “That is a horrible idea of love, even if it is fictional. Please tell me you don’t have those sorts of fantasies.”
She gave him an odd look. “I do. I have fantasies about a powerful being. But he respects me and admires my strengths and talents. He’s there to catch me if I fall, though, to protect me when I need it but not interfere if it’s obvious that I have a situation under control. He’s the one I tell all my secrets to, the one I confide in. He’s fun, and I enjoying spending time and sharing the activities I love with him. In fact, when he’s not with me, I think about him and long for the time when we’re together again. At night, I sleep better by his side, with his arms around me. And when we have sex, we bring all our love into our passion. It’s a holy act for us, a joining together. A way in which two become one.”
He caught his breath at the vision her words produced. Could she….was she talking about him? She couldn’t possibly mean that to be about him. He’d only known her for one day. She couldn’t possibly mean him.
“Have you met anyone who comes close to these fantasies?”
Her dark blue eyes were intense as they met his. “Yes, but when I first meet someone they often seem to fit the fantasy. In reality, especially after a few months with them, they turn out to be someone else entirely. But I hope…I think I might have met him.”
She’d met him? And here she had this book with a sexy character who had the same name as his brother. A white-hot emotion blazed through him. Jealousy? It wasn’t something he was used to feeling.
But he had to know. “Raphael? Is it Rafi?” The humans always adored his younger brother, thinking Rafi to be charming and attractive. The very personality flaws that made other Angels of Order treat him with disdain seemed to fascinate the humans.
Nyalla bit her lower lip, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “This isn’t the right time to have this conversation.” She waved a brochure in
the air. “Not when we have a sailing excursion to be at in thirty minutes.”
“A catamaran? Like the one we swam to last night?” Gabriel jumped to his feet, feeling giddy with excitement, the book and the thought that his brother may have won Nyalla’s heart temporarily pushed aside with the anticipatory thrill of their sailboat adventure.
“No, but it’s going to be so much fun. I chartered a little twenty-eight-foot sailboat. The captain is going to show us how to steer it, and trim the sails, and all these other nautical things that I don’t know about.”
Wait. Captain? Gabe looked down at the table and picked up the pirate book. “If this captain attempts to have sexual intercourse with you, I will need to throw him overboard.”
She giggled. “That’s just a story, Gabe. We’re paying this man to sail us around. He wouldn’t jeopardize his livelihood by hitting on me. Well, not with you on the boat. You wouldn’t really throw him overboard, would you?”
Gabe sat the book down on the table, nudging it so the spine was aligned perfectly with the others. “I’ve done it before. And I happily filled out the four-nine-five report for it, too. Two hundred pages of investigational details and an impact analysis was a small price to pay to rid the world of such a horrible creature. As much as I abhor violence, as much as I detest the lack of restraint and forethought, the abuse of power, I would most definitely kill a human who threatened to harm you.”
She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “And if I were willing? As I told you, some feel that my enjoyment of sex means I’m indulging in the sin of lust. I might find this captain very attractive, and decide to willingly have sex with him.”
Gabe felt as though the omelet he’d eaten an hour ago was about to come surging up through his digestive system and out his mouth. He took a deep breath, trying to settle the crazy emotions running through him. “I cannot, I would not stand in your way if you willingly wanted to have physical relations with anyone. I don’t have the right to restrict your behavior. I’ll never have the right to restrict your behavior.”
