to the spot, gazing up slack-jawed at the angel that only he could see.
Gracefully, Raziel spiraled and landed in front of him. His radiance burst over the boy, illuminating him like a stage light. “I have come for you,” he said, knowing that even
sotto voce,
his words would resonate in feeble human ears like the ringing of cathedral bells.
The boy began to tremble. “I — I —”
“Yes, you and only you,” said Raziel, advancing with a smile. His voice had a light English accent. Like many of the angels, Raziel often found himself unconsciously taking on aspects of past energy donors. The accent had been with him for years; the life force from that human had been particularly intoxicating. He moved toward the boy, gleaming robes of pure white swirling gently about his “ankles.” A long time ago, they hadn’t used to bother manifesting the robes — angels in their divine form didn’t need them — but humans seemed to place such innocent stock in the detail that it felt heartless to deny them.
With a contented sigh, Raziel stretched out his ethereal hands and touched the blue-green aura. As other humans trundled obliviously past with their cameras and bags, the young, hopeful energy surged through him, filling him, feeding him. Oh, lovely. As he indulged, images from the boy’s life flashed past, along with his hopes, his dreams. They were as pedestrian as most humans’; Raziel disregarded them and focused on the pure pleasure of feeding. The blue-green aura began to shudder as it slowly diminished, graying and collapsing in on itself. The boy, on the other hand, had a wondering, dazed expression as he looked up at Raziel, basking in the angel’s beauty along with the soothing serenity that Raziel knew washed over humans with his touch.
“I always knew,” the boy murmured, tears filling his eyes. “I always knew there were angels. . . .”
“How prescient of you,” said Raziel, withdrawing at last. He could feel his halo glowing more brightly as the buzz of new energy pulsed through him. Smiling at the boy with something like affection, he reached for him again, resting his hand on the bowed head. “Stay with us,” he said. “We have work for you here.” The youth would never be the same again, of course, but Lailah would appreciate him once he recovered a bit. Raziel’s friend loved young energy almost as much as he himself did, collecting it the way humans did bottles of wine.
“I will!” gasped the boy. “Oh, I will!”
As Raziel unfurled his wings and lifted upward again, breaking the mental connection that allowed him to be seen, he heard someone say, “Steve? What is it?” And the tear-choked response, “I’ve seen an angel!”
Spiraling once, Raziel caught sight of a slim woman with chestnut-brown hair kneeling on a pew, head bent onto her clasped hands in prayer. Though somewhat damaged, her energy was trying feebly to restore itself; there was a rose-colored tinge to its grayness. As Raziel watched, she looked up at the stained-glass windows, a euphoric smile on her face.
Oh, now,
that’s
nice,
thought Raziel, scanning her body. Was she a resident? He’d have to summon her to his chambers sometime soon and enjoy pleasure of a different sort. Not all angels in this world explored the gratifications their human form could offer, but Raziel had been a connoisseur for centuries.
On the cathedral floor below, Steve’s friend hugged him, saying, “Praise the angels!” Raziel soared back to his chambers, gliding neatly through white stone walls into an office of soft, gleaming wood and gray carpeting, with antique books lining one wall. Landing, he focused his mind and drew his energy downward, bringing it back to the human plane. With a shimmer, his physical body manifested itself again, complete with the expensive pants and crisp white shirt he’d been wearing. Though it took practice, clothes were only molecules of a different sort; it was merely a matter of focusing
Gracefully, Raziel spiraled and landed in front of him. His radiance burst over the boy, illuminating him like a stage light. “I have come for you,” he said, knowing that even
sotto voce,
his words would resonate in feeble human ears like the ringing of cathedral bells.
The boy began to tremble. “I — I —”
“Yes, you and only you,” said Raziel, advancing with a smile. His voice had a light English accent. Like many of the angels, Raziel often found himself unconsciously taking on aspects of past energy donors. The accent had been with him for years; the life force from that human had been particularly intoxicating. He moved toward the boy, gleaming robes of pure white swirling gently about his “ankles.” A long time ago, they hadn’t used to bother manifesting the robes — angels in their divine form didn’t need them — but humans seemed to place such innocent stock in the detail that it felt heartless to deny them.
With a contented sigh, Raziel stretched out his ethereal hands and touched the blue-green aura. As other humans trundled obliviously past with their cameras and bags, the young, hopeful energy surged through him, filling him, feeding him. Oh, lovely. As he indulged, images from the boy’s life flashed past, along with his hopes, his dreams. They were as pedestrian as most humans’; Raziel disregarded them and focused on the pure pleasure of feeding. The blue-green aura began to shudder as it slowly diminished, graying and collapsing in on itself. The boy, on the other hand, had a wondering, dazed expression as he looked up at Raziel, basking in the angel’s beauty along with the soothing serenity that Raziel knew washed over humans with his touch.
“I always knew,” the boy murmured, tears filling his eyes. “I always knew there were angels. . . .”
“How prescient of you,” said Raziel, withdrawing at last. He could feel his halo glowing more brightly as the buzz of new energy pulsed through him. Smiling at the boy with something like affection, he reached for him again, resting his hand on the bowed head. “Stay with us,” he said. “We have work for you here.” The youth would never be the same again, of course, but Lailah would appreciate him once he recovered a bit. Raziel’s friend loved young energy almost as much as he himself did, collecting it the way humans did bottles of wine.
“I will!” gasped the boy. “Oh, I will!”
As Raziel unfurled his wings and lifted upward again, breaking the mental connection that allowed him to be seen, he heard someone say, “Steve? What is it?” And the tear-choked response, “I’ve seen an angel!”
Spiraling once, Raziel caught sight of a slim woman with chestnut-brown hair kneeling on a pew, head bent onto her clasped hands in prayer. Though somewhat damaged, her energy was trying feebly to restore itself; there was a rose-colored tinge to its grayness. As Raziel watched, she looked up at the stained-glass windows, a euphoric smile on her face.
Oh, now,
that’s
nice,
thought Raziel, scanning her body. Was she a resident? He’d have to summon her to his chambers sometime soon and enjoy pleasure of a different sort. Not all angels in this world explored the gratifications their human form could offer, but Raziel had been a connoisseur for centuries.
On the cathedral floor below, Steve’s friend hugged him, saying, “Praise the angels!” Raziel soared back to his chambers, gliding neatly through white stone walls into an office of soft, gleaming wood and gray carpeting, with antique books lining one wall. Landing, he focused his mind and drew his energy downward, bringing it back to the human plane. With a shimmer, his physical body manifested itself again, complete with the expensive pants and crisp white shirt he’d been wearing. Though it took practice, clothes were only molecules of a different sort; it was merely a matter of focusing
Similar Books
