Angels in the Dust

VII. Preparation and a Warning

"Hello." Tomas' soft, cold-roughened voice greets me as I step from the alleyway. I wonder what he sees: a young man, about twenty-ish, looking for a good time, I suppose. Or at least, that's what he must hope he sees.

I smile at him. "Hi."

I see the hope flare in his eyes, mixed with a little self-disgust at his own joy. Behind that, though, I see something that I've seen before - something that always makes me want to close my eyes. Soul-death. A small piece of him dies every time he has to do this; I can see it, and maybe this time, I can stop it from ever happening again.

"Why don't you come with me?" My voice is smooth, soothing. The calm I'm radiating helps him to suppress the instinct to run that has been awakened by his last encounter with a client.

"Sure. You got a room?" No pretenses at any sort of civility, friendship. A pure business transaction. I nod silently. "No funny stuff, all right?" I nod again in agreement. As he is about to walk with me, he hesitates. With a voice that barely shakes, he adds, "Unless you're okay with paying a lot more." I shake my head to indicate my lack of interest, and he lets out a relieved sigh. I'm torn to see that the relief is mixed with a slight regret at the money lost.

"Come on... what's your name?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you want it to be; most guys like to call me Red."

"Okay, Red." I stop and smile. "I don't really feel like walking, so hope you don't mind taking a cab." He shrugs and I hail one. Getting in, he's silent, even while I tell the driver to drive us to the ritziest hotel in town. He follows me into the hotel lobby, where I flash a credit card -- platinum, of course. Easiest way for no questions to be asked is to flash a lot of spending power...

We're promptly escorted to one of the better suites in the hotel by a fawning, sycophantic clerk. I ask for there to be no interruptions, and he bows knowingly. As I close the door, I see Tomas looking back at me warily. I gesture to the bathroom. "You can wash up in there if you like."

He goes in and shuts the door quietly behind him. I soon hear the sounds of a shower being turned on, followed by the pitter-patter of water hitting the ground. I wonder if it'd be best to just Sleep him, and give him dreams of a gentle lover who left him too much money for a night. My mind recoils at that, though; the last thing I want to do is perpetuate the role he's trapped in, however kindly.

It will be too complicated to even begin to tell him the truth, and probably worse to try to lie. So, now what? I know that if I just spirit him away from the life he's made, there will be consequences. If he doesn't free himself from all the myriad ties he has with the darkness, if he doesn't settle all accounts, one way or another, the darkness will strike back, and they will both pay for it. I've seen it before -- I know it will happen if I don't make things right.

That still leaves me with one teenage hustler in the bathroom... I have a clear plan of action about what to do after Tomas leaves this particular life, but no real ideas when it comes to explaining exactly why I'm about to give him three hundred dollars for doing absolutely nothing.

My train of thought is interrupted by Tomas stepping out of the bathroom. He is dressed in one of the hotel bathrobes and his slight frame is enveloped by the fluffy terry-cloth. He hangs back at seeing my thoughtful expression, but then walks up to me boldly. "So, what do you want to do?" At hearing no reply, he starts to take off his bathrobe.

I stop him with a hasty gesture, shaking my head. "No, not that. Just -- just sit down." He gives me a puzzled look, but sits down in the chair that's next to mine. I look at him for a moment, before Spelling him into a very susceptible state. His gaze becomes abstracted, and he visibly relaxes.

"Why... why don't you just tell me a little about yourself? Let's say I'm doing an article on hustlers -- I'm paying you for your time that way. Okay?" His hypnotized mind accepts my rather weak explanation unequivocally, and I let out a small sigh. "So, what's your name? I mean, your real name."

"Tomas. I don't have a last name." He's speaking in a very flat, even tone. He doesn't really look as if any of the conversation is really registering...

"Why not?"

"I was abandoned as a child by my mom -- I never found out who she is, or why... I was raised in an orphanage until I was about twelve. After that, I was put into a foster home, but I ran away as soon as I could. I've been on the streets for a few years, making ends meet as best I could."

I give him a careful look, before suggesting quietly, "Would you like to have a family?"

Blankly, he nods. With eyes far away, he answers me in a whisper. "I want a nice house, a dog... I remember taking care of a little kid when I was in the orphanage -- I want a little brother like him. I want someone to love me, to care about me, not about my body... I wish..."

As his voice trails away, becoming as distant as his gaze, I instruct him quietly, "Go to sleep, Tomas." He sighs and closes his eyes, curling up into a little ball. I lean over to take him to the bed when he grabs hold of me, putting his arms firmly around my neck. He puts his head on my shoulder, and I stay still to make sure he is truly sleeping. When I hear his soft, even breath, I lift him into my arms and carry him over to the huge four-poster.

He refuses to let me go, and I ponder on this new dilemma. I could pull away quite easily, but it seems to give him a measure of comfort, so... I lay down next to him on the bed, putting my arm around him. He snuggles closer, and murmurs, "Michael..."

I gaze at him in shock as my mind refuses to believe what I'd just heard. It must have been triggered by this body's appearance, along with the fact that I was holding him just as the golden-haired illusion had in his dream. I shouldn't be too amazed -- Tieral had possessed more willpower than one would expect. If he wanted to remember something, he would hold onto it with dear life -- even if it were in half-recalled dreams.

As tempted as I am to stay, I know I should get back to the Kyrie-body still in Micah's room. Now that Tomas has enough money to pay off his rent for another month, there shouldn't be any problem with Micah and Kyrie "finding" him. After that, I could deal with the loose ends and maybe even protect them from Heaven's judgment...

I pull away from the slim youth, letting him clutch at the sheets instead. He whimpers a bit, but I put a hand on his forehead, projecting calm, peaceful thoughts to him. He is vulnerable right now in front of me, in a way that will never show up when he is conscious. He has had too hard a life for that.

I put four hundred dollars on the table -- the extra should keep him comfortable until Micah finds him. After that, we'll just have to see how it works out -- while I'm not above tampering here and there, messing with either one at this critical stage will just lead to messiness later. That would _not_ be good.

I go down to the lobby, making it clear to the clerk at the desk that the young man in my room is not to be disturbed or harassed. I order breakfast for Tomas as well before stepping out of the hotel. Looking around carefully to make sure no one is about, I step to the side and let myself fall back into the Kyrie body.

Opening my eyes carefully, I make sure that both Anna and Micah are all right. I release them from the Distraction before relaxing into the warm blankets. Everything... everything is going to be all right. I hope. If a million things go right and nothing goes wrong... I know from experience how incredibly rare that particular set of circumstances are, but perhaps...

That's when I feel it -- the equivalent of a polite knock, tapped against my consciousness. I glance around involuntarily, although obviously that's not going to help. Closing my eyes again, I take a deep breath and construct a meeting place in the Dreaming. It is less dangerous than opening the 'door' to my own mind, as the Dreaming exists in everyone... With the illusion-stuff, I imagine a small table and two chairs, as well as two cups of tea in a nice, homey sort of room. I invite the other into this construct, curious despite myself at who it might be.

There are quite a few beings with the power to roam beyond the body. Besides the usual angels and devils, gifted mortals and supernatural beings also have the capacity to do so consciously. However, demons are not prone to politeness, and mortals usually cannot perceive my power in this shell. Devils, on the other hand, are excruciatingly polite. They are, of course, not quite sure of my status at the moment, so they take great care in not disturbing me.

Of course, that leaves me with the last, most distasteful option. It is most likely an angel. If it is so, that can only mean that I have been discovered and will be taken back for punishment... I'm curious how they found me -- I thought that I had hidden myself quite well from them. Still, there's no use in being on the defensive. I have to see how I can use this to my own benefit.

The other comes in, and sits down on the seat. He sees that I recognize him and nods before sipping at his tea while I sit there, speechless. In a relaxed manner, he puts down his cup and then sits back in the chair, which transforms into a velvet monstrosity the color of grapes.

"Metatron... My lord? Why-"

He sighs. "You forget, Eleiru, that I am the Master Recorder. I write down all that is to be written, and once it is written, so it is. The Word spoken is Power, but the Word transcribed -- it Is. I knew from the start what you were planning, and I admit that I let you go on with it."

"But... I don't understand. You must know that-" At that, I stop. He must know that I am defying a direct edict of the Lord, of...

"Of course." His shimmering, elegant form changes then. Where Metatron had been, a pale being of light with a multitude of wings and voices, there sat in his place an old, old man, weathered by the elements but graced with a keen eye and a gentle smile. "But I know why you chose to do what you did -- I was human, once. A long, long time ago by the reckoning of man, although it is a mere eye-blink in the measurements of the Maker."

Then Enoch disappears, leaving Metatron back in his place. "I know why Michael did what he did, and why you are about to bring about a meeting that was forbidden. I am sympathetic, in my way -- that is why I am not going to call the Watchers on you, or force you to come back with me to Heaven."

Metatron stands, leaving me sitting there with a entirely shocked expression on my face. I think he is enjoying the confusion... His eyes are dancing as if he is being entertained by a new toy. "I warn you, however, that there is one who already knows. Be ready, or else it will be too late." He waves his hand peremptorily and the Dreaming dissolves instantly.

He starts to disappear as well, a blaze of light fading into the shadow. As he does so, I see a enigmatic smile appear on his face for a moment. "I shall be interested to see how this turns out, Eleiru. Can one angel change what God has decreed?" Then he is gone, leaving me with more of a puzzle than before. How different he is now, compared to the memories I have of him... Has the absence of God's presence truly unhinged all of us, as some claim?

I jump back quickly into Kyrie. There is nothing more I can do now, except ponder on what Metatron has just done and told me. He is seemingly on my side. Perhaps. At least, he is not against me, although I doubt he will do anything to further my plans. The warning he just gave me, of another... I cannot think of any who could have found out so quickly of my whereabouts.

My Uncles -- all of the Firsts, really -- have a tacit agreement where Michael is not mentioned in any way. As for the truly young ones, they do not even know what had happened so long ago. To them, Michael is "around", doing the Lord's work. It is the middle Generations, perhaps one of the Seconds or Thirds, who are the dangers. They still remember Terial, and what happened that single, explosive day, and some of them...

I am not sure who is in danger -- Tieral, Michael or me. In any case, I will just have to deal with this as well. Whoever is coming after me will find that it is not so easy to go up against a truly desperate angel with nothing to lose.