In The Flesh

In The Flesh Part 9

"How did it happen?" I asked. A part of me didn't really want to know. A part of me couldn't bear the thought of anyone else being with Him. But He was a monster, I reminded myself. He was bad news, very bad news. Even as I thought it I couldn't keep from thinking about how it felt when he touched me, how it felt when he spoke to me, almost like his voice was inside my heart.

"A part of my job was to be the guardian of sacred spaces." He smiled and shook his head, "Sorry to disappoint, but I wasn't that Michael, not the archangel. I was just a Michael, and I was one of many whose job was to safeguard sacred spaces and the people who worship therein." He chuckled softly "I suppose you could say I was the divine version of a security guard. Not very glamorous, is it?"

"And you were sent to protect people from ... Him?"

"Sort of," he replied. "There are lots of beings attracted to sacred spaces because they are sacred. They shine like beacons to supernatural eyes. And because mortals come to those spaces open and more vulnerable than they are in more mundane spaces, they can be the perfect places for these divine parasites, for lack of a better term, to attach themselves."

"Are you saying He's a parasite?" The idea made me squirm. I liked the idea of some divine monster, some misbehaving godling wanting to seduce me, but I wasn't so keen on the idea of a parasite attaching itself to me."

"More than likely he was the original guardian spirit set to protect the place and its worshipers. Stability isn't any more a given with protective and guardian spirits," he shrugged, "with any kind of divinity at all, actually, than it is with mortals. And the truth is no one really knows what will drive them over the edge and when."

"And is the same true of angels?" I asked.

"If your asking me how stable I am, well, I'm probably not the one to ask, but I think it's pretty safe to say I'm a lot more stable than I was back in the day."

"Back in the day?"

This time it was his turn to pace, staring straight ahead as though he could see into the distant past, as though he could see what had been as easily as what was. Maybe he could. "In the beginning, I was sent to help him, sent because the powers that be observed a growing instability in him, and they thought he was just overly tired. Some guardian spirits attached to places are content to serve and protect their place, pretty much in total anonymity, and pretty much for all eternity, without so much as ever wavering. They're so connected with the place, they seldom have need for contact with the mortals who hold that place sacred.

"But He," I could see a shiver run up his spine and over his broad shoulders, "He became fascinated with the mortals who worshiped in his space, and since that space had been a Christian place of worship for several hundred years, it fell to those who served the Christian god to set things right. It should have been easy for an angel. It should have been a walk in the park."

The silence stretched between us, broken only by distant thunder. It took a second for me to realize I'd been holding my breath. He moved to slip the throw from the back of the chair over my shoulders and I realized not only was I was still clad in just the towel but I was shivering. I inhaled with a shudder and found my voice. "But it wasn't."

"It wasn't." He returned to pacing in front of the fire. "You see, the thing was, that I didn't realize that something was amiss. I didn't realize anything at all. In fact, it seemed almost the opposite to me. It seemed like everything was exactly as it should be and that he was ..."

"He was what?"

Michael stopped mid-stride and stared into the flames as though seeking answers there. "It seemed as though he was the only sane thing about the place, and even more than that, it seemed like he was a kindred spirit. He loved humanity. He was fascinated by their tenacity, their ability to be both strong and vulnerable. And he was particularly fascinated by their ability to live in the physical world. Oh, that was a weakness, of course it was. Mortality always is and always has been a weakness, the ultimate weakness, and yet to live in the flesh to feel pain and suffering and joy and love and lust and tenderness, to experience the five senses – how could any non-corporeal being not crave that? How could any god think that to exist without flesh was superior to blood and bone and all the passion and trauma and chaos that went along with it?"

"And clearly you shared His opinion," I observed, nodding to his body.

"I did." He came to sit beside me on the bed and took my hand, chafing my cold fingers. "Though had I had any idea the cost back before I made the decision, back before I chose the path of no return, I might have been too terrified to do what had to be done."

"You mean that once you became human, you succumbed to him and became his lover?"

Michael shook his head slowly, and the chafing of my hand became a death grip. "Oh no, it wasn't that at all. I became his lover long before I became mortal. In fact, I became mortal because I loved him."