~~Young~~

Chapter Five

   “Father,” Gage sighed exasperated, “I thought I asked you-”

   Next thing Gage knew he was hurtling to the floor face first with Michael acting like a lead weight on his back.

   He crashed into the pews, landing crosswise across a couple so their rigid backs dug into various fleshy areas.

   It wasn’t the most promising of situations, and hell but that hurt, but to Gage’s advantage Michael had leapt off him at the last moment to avoid injury. He slid himself into an upright position so he was sitting in the pew, throwing daggers with his eyes at Michael as he fought to catch his breath. And as Gage had done earlier for him, Michael gave him a moment.

   It wasn’t out of fairness or compassion. It was simply because both wanted a real fight from the other.

   No words were exchanged when he was ready. Michael simply knew and charged at Gage once again. But as Gage leapt up he pushed down on the pew and broke off an arm length piece of wood, bringing it up between both hands just in time to deflect Michael’s next blow.

   He was going to try and forget how much pain was reverberating down his arms from that strike. You know, the one that had him fighting not to sink to his knees thanks to that emergency landing.

   “Seriously Mike, is this really necessary every fucking time we meet?”

   “What’s wrong?” the angel grinned, “Getting too old for this?”

   Gage snorted, “hardly. Bored is more like it-” the sound of leather shoes running across the tile had Gage snapping his head to the side, “Father no!” he shouted.

   The man was crouched over Gage’s blade, his hand hovering over the hilt as if his frail body would wield the deceivingly heavy thing.

   With another push and a grunt Gage shoved Michael away from him again, and with a casual swing to the side he knocked the angel’s sword from his hand. It flew through the air and buried itself in the support for the alter…the solid marble alter.

   It was time to stop playing games.

   He shot a glare to the stunned Michael laid out on the alter stairs and tossed the hunk of wood to the floor with a thunk before turning to the equally surprised priest.

   “You think you’re going to even the fight by picking that up?” Gage spat as he pointed a firm finger at his blade. The priest, still crouched over, looked to the blade and then back to Gage as if he was still considering it. But Gage shook his head solemnly, “that will kill you Father,” he said a little more calmly, “you don’t want me to have it, fine. But don’t let your skin touch it or it will burn off, do you understand?”

   Again he looked to the blade, his eyes running over its length, before he wrapped his robes around his hand and struggled the thing off the floor. With one more baleful glance he turned from Gage and scurried back behind the curtain.

   “I don’t understand you,” Michael said softly from behind Gage, “you just had every chance to let one of our Lord’s devoted children die, but yet you stopped him.”

   “First,” Gage shot around, “he’s your lord, not mine. Second, I know the deal. I kill unjustly, I lose my immortality, and I’m having way too much fun for that shit.”

   “But it wouldn’t have been you who killed him…” Michael looked confused as he righted himself.

   “My blade, my fault, you know that’s how he would have seen it,” Gage sighed and looked to the curtain; “he does realize I’m going to want that back right?”