Chapter 9

Raphael

The scorching desertsun beats down as I emerge from the sanctuary of Menhit’s Oasis, the cool lake water sliding off my bare skin. With long strides, I make my way onto the sandy shore, sunlight glinting off the droplets cascading down my muscular physique.

Baal, the hulking Canaanite storm god, claps me on the back with a wide grin, his dark eyes twinkling. “That was fantastic, Rafa! The best shots yet. You really know how to work the camera.”

I chuckle, grabbing a towel to dry off my dripping wings and body. “All in a day’s work for charity, right?”

It’s been a long but amusing day, posing au naturel for Baal’s calendar to benefit the animal sanctuary. We’ve made use of the scenic oasis for the backdrop—graceful palm trees, reeds swaying in the breeze, and the crystal blue lake waters creating an exotic aura.

Menhit even closed it to the public for the occasion. She’s always had a soft spot for me since we fought together back in the day.

The usually easy-going Baal has been focused and attentive behind the camera, directing each shoot with calm precision. As head of his pantheon, he knows how to take charge when needed. But his cheerful swagger soon returns once the work is done.

I glance over at the complex camera setup on the shore, various reflectors angled just to capture every muscle and feather. “Let me see some of the photos at least, to make sure you got my good side.”

Baal eagerly flips through the shots on the digital display, holding it up for me. I whistle, impressed in spite of myself.

“Damn, I look good!” My physique is perfectly highlighted by the strategic posing and lighting. Every muscle pops cleanly under smooth bronzed skin, pristine white wings majestically displayed.

Baal’s deep laugh rumbles. “We make a great team.” He holds my arm, dark eyes twinkling. “These are gonna sell like hotcakes. The ladies will be lining up for copies!”

I grab my clothes from a nearby rock, ducking behind a palm tree to dress. The lightweight linen feels cool against my sun-warmed skin. Finally presentable again, I rejoin Baal to help pack up the photography gear.

“So, what now?” he asks. His voice is a lazy drawl, but his eyes glint with excitement. “We’re done early for once. Up for hitting the tavern, knocking back a few drinks?”

I glance at the darkening sky. The prospect of drinks and carefree socializing appeals little to me for some reason. My mind keeps wandering back to vivid brown eyes and raven locks...

“Thanks, but I should head home,” I reply. “I’m beat.”

Baal pauses, staring at me incredulously. In all our centuries of friendship, I’ve never turned down drinks or a chance to meet women.

“Alright, who is she?” he asks knowingly, crossing his arms.

“What? No one. Just tired,” I answer evasively.

Baal snorts. “Please. I know that look. You’ve met someone special.”

When I don’t respond, he clasps my shoulder. “Hey, no judgments here. I’m happy for you.” His expression grows somber. “After everything we’ve seen, we all deserve a little light in the darkness.”

I nod slowly. “Thanks, brother. But it’s early still.” I force a casual grin. “You know me—footloose and fancy-free.”

Baal just smiles and returns to packing up. We chat lightly about plans for the calendar release and fundraising events.

After farewell hugs, I watch him vanish in a crackle of crimson energy. Alone now, I meander to the lake’s edge, gazing at the moon’s rippling reflections.

Try as I might to deny it, Baal saw right through me. Thoughts of Helena consume my waking moments, and my dreams—her fierce beauty, her quick wit and intelligence, the fire in her eyes when she came undone against my scorching kiss...

Fuck. I shouldn’t see her again. I know that. Our worlds are incompatible, our natures opposed. Nothing can come of this attraction but tragedy and heartbreak.

With a heavy sigh, I unfold my wings and take to the dusky sky. The night breeze cools my flushed skin as I fly aimlessly over Purgatory’s peaceful desert. Only time will tell if I have the strength to resist this siren’s pull, or if I will surrender and let the currents sweep me away. For now, I take solace in the freedom of flight, leaving my conflicted desires far below.

I lose track of time among the clouds, the rhythmic beating of my wings lulling me into meditative calm. But even this serenity cannot fully quiet my racing thoughts. Unbidden, vivid images of beautiful Helena intrude, quickening my pulse.

Gradually, almost unconsciously, I find my aimless course directing me back towards the glittering city lights. The impulsive desire to see her again smolders inside me, reckless and irresistible.

Before I can overthink it, I angle down, gliding silently over the bright buildings. My sleek sports car waits where I left it. With barely a rustle of feathers, I fold my wings and conceal them beneath the tattoos spanning my back.

The engine purrs to life, and within seconds, I’m winding through sultry LA streets towards the DeLux’s den of sin. I tell myself I’m just passing by, harmless curiosity.

This time, I don’t sneak in through the basement. I walk straight to the front door where the beefy bouncer eyes me warily. He knows who I am—and in this part of town, archangels mean trouble. I offer a genial smile and slip him a weighty tip. His scrutiny eases and he turns a blind eye as I enter, merging into the shadows just inside.

The atmosphere thrums with familiar sensual energy, scantily clad bodies gyrating on the crowded dance floor. Usually, this provocative display would stoke my appetite for hedonistic delights. But tonight, my focus narrows only to one goal—locating the elusive Helena.

My heart thunders in my chest as I weave amongst the sea of revelers, sharp gaze combing every nook and alcove for that fiery mane of chestnut curls. The club bustles near capacity for a Thursday. I hope locating one woman amidst this throng won’t prove impossible.

After one full circuit yields no sign of Helena, my irritation sparks. Where could she be? The brace of sin couldn’t keep its captivating hostess hidden forever. Could it?

I pick a strategic vantage point along the bar, swiping a lurid violet cocktail to blend in. The liquid courage burns smoothly down my throat despite its Day-Glo appearance.

Soon, my tapping foot ticks out my growing restlessness. The crowd morphs into a singular writhing organism, faces blurring together. Still no Helena.

I scan the undulating dance floor again, my focus turning inward. Perhaps showing up unannounced was foolish, bordering on creepy. Helena made it clear she regretted our tryst. This brash stunt smacks of desperate stalking.

I rake a hand through my hair, shame rising hot on my neck. This obsession needs to be reined in before it gallops further out of control. Time to leave before I do something truly idiotic.

I’m about to stand just as the sea of bodies parts for an instant. Across the cavernous space, an achingly familiar visage materializes from the chaos. Helena, resplendent in crimson, leans elegantly against the bar, chatting with a buff bartender. Her waves tumble loose about gently sloping shoulders, lashes lowered demurely as she speaks. Even at a distance, her otherworldly magnetism tugs at my core.

She seems to sense my stare, eyes suddenly darting up and clashing with mine. Her lips part in surprise and a hint of something more—not quite fear or nerves. But perhaps reluctant intrigue?

Before she can react further, a broad form eclipses my view. “You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here,” Eve cuts me off before I can speak. “Lucky for you, Lucifer is not around tonight.”

I take a long swig of my drink, avoiding her piercing gaze. “No idea why he hates me so much,” I mumble, swirling the glass pensively.

Eve stares at me in disbelief. “Well, you started it,” she says dryly.

I frown in confusion. “Started what?”

“Uh… the Great War?” she adds in a caustic tone.

“I did no such thing!” I rebuff instantly.

“Seriously, Raphael?” she retorts, her voice lowering to an irritated hiss. “Have you really forgotten already?” She pauses, glaring at me with accusation in her eyes. “Lucifer confided his grudge against the Almighty to you, and you went and betrayed him by telling Michael!”

I nearly choke on my drink. “That is not how it happened!” I protest vehemently once I recover. “Anyway, who cares about that? It was such a long time ago...” I trail off with a nonchalant shrug.

Eve narrows her eyes, unmoved by my excuses. “He does,” she replies pointedly. “So you better watch yourself.”

Sensing I’m already treading on thin ice tonight, I quickly change tacks, aiming for lighthearted charm. “Adam’s sure lucky to have you,” I say with a grin.

Eve’s expression softens a bit at that. “Don’t you know? Adam and I are divorced now.”

My grin falters. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear—”

She waves a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t be. I couldn’t be happier.” A small but genuine smile touches her lips.

I nod, relieved the tension seems to have dissipated. But when I try engaging her on more neutral topics, Eve continues studying me closely with her shrewd gaze.

After a moment, she leans in, dropping her voice. “Does a certain alluringyoung lady perhaps factor into your sudden reappearance here?”

I nearly choke on my drink for the second time tonight. So much for friendly small talk. Eve doesn’t miss a trick.

I throw a casual look over her shoulder, meeting the smoldering Helena—Helena, such a befitting name… A beauty worth starting a war over between angelic and demonic forces.

“Mm… her.” I return breezily, scrambling to seem casual. “A delightful coincidence—like running into you this fine evening.”

“Oh, yes. Entirely coincidental, I’m sure.” She gifts me with a sphinxlike smile. “Should I ask what brings you back to the slum with us demons so soon? Or are some motives better left unspoken?”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “You caught me—I’m absolutely parched for a taste of that sinfully delicious Black Mass martini you mix.” I force an easy grin, though my pulse quickens under her knowing stare. “Truly, my motivations tonight are pure as fresh snow.”

Eve arches one sculpted brow skeptically. “Try selling sanctimony elsewhere, angel boy. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Smooth, real smooth. Eyes watering, I manage to rasp, “No idea what you mean.”

Eve’s tinkling laughter peals out. “You’re rather adorable when flustered. Though I advise keeping your roving eye pointed elsewhere.” Her face turns serious. “Our Luci is fiercely protective of his favorite niece, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

I duck my head, chastened. She’s right, of course. Pursuing Helena flirts with cosmic calamity, two rival worlds colliding. I need to fly straight, resist this unwise obsession before my wings get scorched.

“Your concern for my hide is touching.” I place a hand over my heart. “Consider me properly warned away from matters not meant for meddling.”

“See that you are.” With a parting pat on my shoulder, Eve sashays off, pausing to whisper something to Helena in passing. I watch them share a furtive glance my way before Helena slips out an Employees-Only door, disappearing like vapor.

I release a ragged breath, deflated. Nothing left to do now but make my lonely exit back to the isolation of my spartan apartment. Perhaps this fruitless exercise provided the splash of icy reality I needed. Time to leave dangerous pipe dreams behind and move ahead more wisely.