Falling for Faith

by Anne Conley

  It was the pain of hopelessness. She was in the Devil’s hands and couldn’t see a way out. Faith sobbed around the gag, wondering where Michael was, why wasn’t he here protecting her?

  “You made a deal with me, Faith. As much power as we wield, we cannot interfere with that. Agreements are binding. So are the charms I worked on this room before I let you regain consciousness.”

  With that, the whip rose in the air, and came slashing down across the tender flesh of her thigh, and Faith screamed at the fire that raced up her mangled skin. Down, it came again, across her belly, and Faith lost her breath. This pain was intense, overriding all other pain she felt, or thought she felt. It was even more so from the look of utter satisfaction on Damien’s face. The eagerness lit up his entire face as his arm rose again for another.

  “Stop!” A roar interrupted the man’s movements, whip held in the air.

  Michael!

  Faith blinked, unable to believe he was really here. After all that had happened since he went to the store for cinnamon, such an innocuous chore, she was beginning to doubt what was real and who actually spoke the truth.

  Michael strode into the room, his silver eyes shining with fury, as his sheer size commanded the room. As he moved, Faith saw him fondle the spot on the arm where his tattoo was, removing a cuff-type bracelet from his bicep. As he advanced across the room, Faith breathlessly watched as the bracelet lengthened and writhed on its own, turning into a huge black snake, hissing and snapping. Michael mumbled some words to it she couldn’t understand, and it morphed into a huge chain, links as large as her fists, whipping around the floor at Michael’s feet. With a flick of his powerful arm, he snapped it, and the chain wrapped around Damien’s neck, his eyes suddenly bulging and his face turning purple.

  “I should kill you now.” Michael’s voice was frighteningly low, laced with venom. “But I know you’ll just come back, because you’re right.” The hitch in his voice gave away his fear, and it scared Faith. What could Michael possibly be scared of? She watch his virile body shrink in on itself and he whispered, “She made the deal. Even with the trickery, a deal’s a deal.” The chain loosened from around the man’s neck, and Michael took a step back from him. “Take me instead.”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat, while Damien’s stature seemed to elongate at the words. It took a minute for Faith to realize he was trading his soul for hers.

  “Wait. No, Michael!” His eyes dropped to the ground in a gesture of submissiveness, but he never looked at her. His fist clenched, then relaxed, and he seemed to shrink further. Faith’s heart broke into pieces at the look of utter desolation on his face, his eyes squeezed shut, as if preparing himself for the worst.

  Damien looked at Michael, his mouth open wide in disbelief. “What?”

  “You fucking heard me, you asshole. You’ve been jonesing for this for centuries. Take me.” He held out his wrists, as if for Satan to cuff him or something.

  A wry smile crossed Damien’s lips. “I can’t take you. You have no soul. There’s nothing to take.”

  Michael dropped the chain he’d been holding. As soon as it clattered to the ground, the chain morphed back into a snake, slithering around Michael’s ankles, almost lovingly.

  Michael looked at her then. His silver eyes shone at her, watery with tears. The love shining out of them reached inside her and grabbed hold of her insides, wrenching them every which way, until she could barely breathe. The tears in his eyes overflowed, spilling down his cheeks.

  “I do now.” His voice was rough, the words scraping across Faith’s skin.

  A gleam of excitement shone in Damien’s eyes, chilling Faith. “Really? Well, I suppose that does make a difference.” Without a second look at Faith, he stomped on the snake’s head, crushing it beneath his bare foot. It writhed and twitched for a minute, then lay still. Michael twitched at the action but never took his eyes off Faith, as if it was the last time he would see her.

  “Wait.” Faith struggled against her bindings, ignoring the pain in nearly every part of her body. The words she wanted to speak weren’t coming. All she could do was protest. She wanted to tell Michael he couldn’t do this. She couldn’t let him succumb to the Devil. She had been the stupid one, and he’d been right all along. But all that came out of her mouth was the choked whisper, “Don’t do this, Michael.”

  Damien stepped off the dead snake and grabbed Michael’s wrists warily, as if it were a trap. When he encountered no resistance, he gripped them tighter, pulling Michael toward him.

  The room darkened perceptibly, taking on a red glow.

  “You will be my prized possession. An excellent addition to my collection.” His snarl froze Faith, and Michael looked back down at the ground again. He muttered something Faith couldn’t hear. Damien laughed, an evil cackle, and looked at Faith. “Oh…please say it louder. I don’t think she heard you.”

  Michael took a deep breath, and for a moment, his shoulders straightened, but they slumped again when he uttered the words, “I love you, Faith.”

  Faith watched in horror as Michael’s skin seemed to draw and tighten. His tanned skin became pale and shiny, scars mapping across it, like a burn victim’s. He showed no reaction, only stood there, while his enormous muscles withered and shrank.

  She was granted a vision of hell, not knowing if it was from Michael or Damien, but she knew it as soon as she saw it flash across her mind. Blood-red caverns led into darkness. Shadows filled with small creatures, the damned, who looked a lot like Michael did now. Dread filled her veins, prompting her to react.

  She found her voice. “I’ll go!”

  Damien barked a laugh, turning to her without releasing Michael. “You’re no longer a prize. As much as I want you, I want him more. Always have…” Thoughtfully, he continued, “Think of what he represents.”

  And she couldn’t help but imagine it. The eternity of wars these two must have fought. One the epitome of evil, of death and destruction, disease. The other, the original Christian Soldier people had been singing about moving onward for centuries. To take Michael would be to claim a prize.

  Defeated, she watched as they began to shimmer, an apparition fading away into nothingness.

  “STOP!”

  Faith blinked at the man in the Armani suit that walked into her bedroom. What the fuck? He strode in with authority, and she was unable to contain herself, her head spinning.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He smirked at her but quickly focused his attention on the two fallen angels in the room.

  “I know I never actually wrote down a set of rules for you boys, but you are obviously breaking them.” He made a vague gesture between the two of them, and Damien released Michael’s wrists and took a step back, bowing his head.

  “Father… I –“ His voice was thick with emotion, and Faith gaped. Father? Faith looked at the man/entity who had just moments before been her worst nightmare but now was a chastened little boy.

  “No need. I know you were only doing…what you do.” He turned to Michael, a kind smile on His lips. “Take her and leave. You guys have some things to discuss, I believe. Rome is nice this time of year, don’t you think?” Turning to Damien, the smile disappeared, “We need to talk.”

  The Man waved his hands in the air, and Michael’s skin glowed iridescently before he was suddenly normal. If Faith had blinked, she would have missed it. But there before her stood her Michael, strong and handsome like he had before, looking around wide-eyed, as if he himself couldn’t believe it. He looked at the Man gratefully, but the Man wasn’t looking at him, He was looking at Faith.

  He smiled at Faith, and she felt filled with a sense of peace that was ridiculous in the situation. “It was nice to finally meet you, Faith.” As if it were a family reunion. “Oh, wait a minute.” He waved his hand majestically over Faith and all her wounds disappeared. Blood, broken bones, cuts, even the ropes, all of it. Gone. Along with the pain that had become a constant dull ache, too much to foc
us on.

  She was flexing stuff she didn’t think she’d be able to move for a while, still in a daze from the whirlwind of events, when Michael scooped her in his arms. He stopped at her chest of drawers to reach in and pull out clothes before rushing out of her room and depositing her on her couch.

  “Get dressed.” He thrust the clothes at her, but didn’t let her go as if touching her was the only way to keep her safe. His eyes never left the door to her bedroom.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m getting you away from him first, then I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

  She dressed quickly, so many questions racing through her mind, and the adrenaline from events keeping everything a jumbled mess inside her head. When she was dressed in the sweat suit Michael had grabbed, he clasped her hand in his and led her outside.

  He looked deep into her eyes, the silver shining like crystal deep into her insides, warming them. She didn’t realize how cold she’d been near that man. She shivered at the memory.

  Michael seemed to understand, as he enveloped her in a warming embrace. Faith closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, warm and spicy-sweet. It was comforting on a level she couldn’t comprehend. She could feel his muscles shifting under her hands and the next thing she knew, her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faith opened her eyes to see they were flying, at first low over the trees, then higher through the clouds. She looked up at Michael, who was so bright she almost had to look away. Squinting, she studied him. Faith was reminded of a trash fire her dad had built when she was a kid, a random memory that washed over her. He’d been cleaning out the garage, completely uncaring about EPA regulations, burning all sorts of things he couldn’t throw in the trash. When the fire was big enough, he threw an old Volkswagon crank case on top, and the magnesium in it burned with a brilliant incandescence that was blinding. That’s sort of what Michael reminded her of. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she found her Michael, his anger gone, and a peace washed through her as she felt her limbs relax.

  She could make out his features, all handsome strength, under the brightness, but what struck her the most about the vision of him right now were his wings. They were enormous. Of course, they were feathered, but the feathers glowed from within. No, not glow. They sparkled, as if they were alive. No, that wasn’t it either. It reminded her of water, the light seemed under the surface, and it rippled out of the incandescent, white appendages, like something living, but not quite. She couldn’t take her eyes off them as they moved gracefully, sweeping the two of them through the air.

  She broke the trance the wings had put her under and managed, “Can I turn around?” He flashed an easy smile at her that made her stomach flip. It was a smile that reached his eyes, and his entire face told her he would do anything she asked as long as she would let him. She wasn’t sure what exactly told her that just from his look, but she trembled with a sudden longing. A longing to be with this man forever.

  Keeping her firmly in his grasp, he helped her to turn in his arms so she could see the landscape below her.

  Her breath left her body in a rush as she realized the full implications of everything. Michael was indeed an angel. She had believed him before, as she had no reason not to, but this cemented everything. She’d seen him disappear, heal himself, turn his tattoo into a weapon, and now they were flying.

  She closed her eyes and felt the cool wind caress her body as Michael’s strong hands held her in place against him. When she opened them again, they were crossing an ocean, water as far as the eye could see. They dove down until they skimmed the top of the water, and Faith reached a hand out to touch it.

  “I’ve never seen the ocean before… Which one is this?” She could smell the salt in the air and looked down to see variations in the blueish colors, which she supposed to be levels of the depths.

  “Atlantic.” His voice rumbled through her like liquid, filling her with a serenity that was foreign. She embraced it. “It’s like your eyes.” Faith tried to stiffen the muscles that had instantly turned to goo at the indulgent tone of his voice, but it was hopeless.

  They flew for what seemed like hours, though Faith had no concept of time here. They rose back to the clouds, flying above them for a time, then swooping down, back up, and to her delight, even did a few loop-de-loops. Faith whooped accompanied by Michael’s rumbling chuckles.

  When they finally landed on top of a green hill, Faith had been breathless for some time and just soaked in her surroundings while trying to catch her breath.

  The mountain was idyllic, looking over a small village. On a small mountain across the village from them was the ruins of what looked like a castle, except it didn’t have the fortifications for one. There were no turrets, no moat, and not really anyplace for archers to take aim from, although a dilapidated tower rose up on one end. Newer elements had been added, probably for tourist usage, as the brick wasn’t the same color. But it was majestic in its splendor, nonetheless.

  Her eyes were drawn to the ruined tower and the structure next to it. For some reason it evoked a visceral response in her, something deep down came welling up. She could see the beauty of its former glory. Maybe it was the length of the day, it seemed late morning here, so the sun shined brightly, belying her own exhaustion. She’d been awake for so long, and so many unreal things had happened in such a short time. But maybe it was the emotions coursing through her already. Her passions had run the gamut today. But something about the structure made her indefinably sad to see such former glory crumble with the ravages of time.

  “Where are we?” She asked when she’d finally managed to catch her breath and speak.

  “Sacra di San Michele, or Saint Michael’s Abbey.” He said it quietly, and when Faith looked at him, Michael had a strange look on his face. It was as if he was seeking her approval or something. “I didn’t start out wanting a shrine, just a place I could come and get away from everything.” He had transformed back to his human self, and Faith leaned against him as he spoke. “I asked Giovanni Vincenzo to make me a place to visit, and as humans tend to do, he made a bigger deal out of it than I really wanted.” He leaned back, cradling Faith in his arms as he did, so they were lying on the mountainside, looking below them. “Of course, it’s ruins now, but somebody is rebuilding.”

  “What is happening, Michael?”

  He sighed, playing with a lock of her hair near her ear.

  “I brought you here, like this, because I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do it again.” His voice was soft, regretful. She turned in his arms and looked at his face smiling down at her, although it was a wistful smile. “I’m in love with you.” He leaned his head back on his arm, looking at the sky. “I knew it would happen, He told me. But I didn’t realize how it would feel. I’ve never felt anything before except anger. And when He told me this would happen, I was so angry.”

  “You didn’t want me? Was Damien telling the truth about that?” She wanted to be angry, but so much had happened since Michael left to go get cinnamon from the store, and she was just too tired. Bone-deep exhaustion filled her. She couldn’t fight. If he didn’t want her, she would just figure out what to do next on her own. Like she always did. It didn’t really matter what her feelings for him were, if he didn’t want her she doesn’t want him. No matter how bad it hurts.

  Oh, who was she kidding?

  He rolled over and pulled Faith in his embrace, dipping his face into her shoulders. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, Faith. I knew the Deceiver would try to get to you.” He kissed her shoulder, breathing hot air through the fabric of her sweat shirt. “My brothers told me, they tried to warn me about what would happen, but I didn’t listen. Didn’t want to hear.”

  “Your brothers?”

  “Yeah. You’ll probably get to meet them soon. They’ve been dying to know who would tame the beast, so to speak. There’s not really anyway to keep you away, so I might as wel
l just get all the teasing over with.”

  “You have brothers? Like, the other archangels? How many of you are there?” She felt like she should know this but was so exhausted, she wasn’t sure she knew her name any more.

  “I was the first. Gabriel, Rafael, and Uriel are the others that are closest to The Boss. The Deceiver used to be one of us, but Father cast him down a long time ago. That’s why he’s been escalating with each of the women. He’s like the spoiled little brother, always wanting what the others have. He’s been progressively getting more desperate. I was the last. That’s why I had to protect you.” His voice turned gravelly with emotion, and he clutched Faith tighter. Her thoughts were racing in her head. What other women? How had he been escalating? What was Michael talking about? The threads of what he was saying swayed in her mind, and she was unable to connect them.

  “I’m so sorry I left you. I—I thought I needed to think, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t have…” Her shoulder was wet with warm tears, and she clutched at Michael, energy pulsing back into her with every word he spoke. “I was so overwhelmed by everything I felt for you, knowing you hate what I represent to you, I had to leave, get away. I’ve always been a bit selfish, and this whole…process has exacerbated everything.” She still hadn’t seen his face and wanted him to look at her. She tried to nudge his head up so she could see his eyes.

  “Don’t.” He sniffled, and it warmed Faith’s heart. This big, strong warrior was crying on her shoulder. Something inside her snapped, not caring if his words didn’t make sense. “I love you, Michael.” She said the words softly, knowing them to be true. He stilled. “I still don’t understand it, and I’m trying to come to terms with it, but I also know that in order to give myself to you completely, I need to come to terms with Eli as well.”

  Michael’s frantic clutch on her eased somewhat, and he leaned back to finally let her see his face. It was splotchy, but the crystalline silver of his eyes still shone at her. “Tell me.”