“Plasma. Yeah, Chris, we didn't get to see you much that night, but Kathy and I had the best time! The table you got us, our own hunky vampire to wait on us, the celebrities, and that fight scene! It was amazing! It looked so real,” she said. “But it was too fast, next time you need to have them slow the effects down or whatever. That part looked a little fake. But when the people at our table found out you are our neighbor, they started treating us like celebrities!” “Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. You got home okay? No problems?” I asked.
“The little spiky-haired girl who seems to run things insisted that we ride home in your girlfriend's limo! It was unreal.”
Gramps was looking at me in a bemused manner and I smiled and shrugged at her excitement. Paige blushed a little, then excused herself. “It was very nice to meet you Mr. Gordon. I need to get out on my run. Chris, thanks again for Halloween. I asked the spiky-haired girl what we should do to thank you and she laughed and said we should feed you? Anyway, so we'll be making you some homemade ziti and bread some night this week, as a start.”
“That sounds great. Lydia knows I like to eat, so she definitely steered you right. Have a good run.”
With a last goodbye, she headed down the hallway, while Gramps opened the apartment door. The futon was back in its couch position and the apartment looked tidy, so he had been up awhile. Farmers tend to rise with the sun, pretty much the natural opposite of vampires.
“So what do you want to do today?” I asked.
He looked at me with a gleam in his eye that warned of trouble.
“Well, Chris, the thing I want to do the very most is attend Mass at the Queen of All Saints church here in Brooklyn.”
I groaned. I may have mentioned it before, but I really don't like church. I've got so many issues with God that I want to avoid all of his houses. Being in the demon bashing business requires a certain amount of contact with clergy, but most of them know my views. Still, he had phrased his response in such a way that I pretty much had to comply. Not without a fight though, however small.
“Why?” I asked
“Well Chris, I've heard a great deal about that particular church and its stained glass windows from Father Davis back home. This may be my only remaining chance to see it.”
He was healthy as a horse, but whenever he wanted to fight dirty, he brought up his eminent demise.
I sighed. “All right. But I'm not getting dressed up.”
“Khakis and a polo?” he asked.
“I suppose. Hey! What about our bet?”
Without another word he handed me the two fifties from the table.
The Church of All Saints on Vanderbilt Avenue is spectacular. Modeled after the Sainte Chapelle in Paris, it has fourteen great stain glass windows, which contain two hundred and sixty biblical subjects from both the Old and New Testaments. Sitting in a pew and staring at profusion of stained glass scenes, I felt fairly insignificant. That people would put such love and passion, not to mention money, into the creation of a place of worship was a little humbling. My reverie was cut short by a call of nature. The Mass wouldn't start for fifteen minutes, so I excused myself, leaving Gramps in silent contemplation.
It took a few minutes, but I finally found the facilities. After accomplishing my task, I opened the door to leave and stopped in my tracks. A man was leaning against the wall, his ankles and arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently.
“About time!” he said.
He was about six feet tall, athletic build, short curly blond hair and vivid blue eyes.
“Hey, I wasn't that long. And it was all business, not like I was reading in there or anything,” I said, just a touch defensive.
He looked confused for a moment, then shook his head in annoyance.
“No, not that. I've just been waiting for eons for you to step into a church. It's bad enough that I had to be the one to talk to you, but then it takes you like forever to show up.”
He stood up and I noticed he was wearing dark pants and a dark button down shirt, untucked. I'm not one to notice another man's looks or even begin to judge what women find attractive, but I had a real strong idea that this guy was the type that caused women to swoon. However, I had no idea what he was talking about, or what he wanted. He didn't seem dangerous, but I was learning swiftly not to prejudge these things.
“Look, buddy, I don't know who you think I am, but whoever he is, I'm not him.” I started to slide by him, but he was suddenly in front of me, which was troubling, because my enhanced eyesight could see old vampires moving at speed.
He hadn't made even a blur. He frowned at me.
“Of course you are he. I mean you are certainly the him that I think you are.” He shook his head again. “I'm making a mess of this. But it's all very frustrating. I told Michael that I was the wrong choice. Briathos or Eae would have been better choices. They're both big fans of yours, what with all the demon bashing and all. But no, he says, 'you're guardian of Scorpios, Barbiel, you have to talk to him.”
I was thoroughly alarmed by his mention of demons and bashing, so I risked a quick view of him with my Sight. What I saw shocked me. His aura was almost equal parts silver and gold, colors I had never seen in an aura before. And bright, so bright I could barely look at him. Stunned by the sight, not knowing what else to do I just stared at him.
“So anyway, you're stuck with me,” he said with a sigh.
“But maybe you could stop into a church a little more often?”
I answered with the first thing that popped into mind, still completely bewildered by this exchange.
“I was just in a church the other day,” I said.
He wagged one elegant finger at me. “Uh ah! Funerals don't count. Particularly a police officer's. Michael would have my head if I had interfered with Officer Sanchez's service.”
My brain was reeling from his casual knowledge of my recent whereabouts.
“But anyway, you're here. Sooo...I'm supposed to tell you that you're doing a great job, but you need to be careful. Your powers and abilities will serve the Dark as easily as the Light. You mustn't let yourself get drawn down the Dark path. Also, you need to explore your powers. They can do so much more than you are using them for. For instance, they will heal as well as hurt, although you have been helping the bear. Oh, and congratulations on finding your other self. Well that's about it.” He looked immensely pleased with himself.
“Wait, what are you talking about? Who the hell are you?”
He instantly frowned. “Hey, that's not even remotely funny! I didn't say anything about you and Hell. Why would you insult me that way?” He was pretty mad.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's just that I don't have any idea of what you're telling me.”
“Oh, don't be so obtuse. You understand it. And if you need to do something, you'll know how. Look, I've got to be going. You're not my only assignment you know. Sure you're all important and everything, but I do have other responsibilities.”
He brushed past me and I spun to try to get some answers but he was gone. Vanished from one step to the next. No noise, no poof, nothing. Even Tatiana at her fastest would have left a breeze in her wake. And he had felt solid as he brushed by me.
I stood staring down the hall, when suddenly his voice spoke from behind me.
“Don't forget to come back soon!”
I spun again, but there was nothing and no one in the hall behind me.
I slid into the spot next to Gramps, still stunned by my encounter. He was chatting amiably with the older couple next to him and he pretty much ignored me which gave me an opportunity to sit and ponder my visitor's odd words and actions. The Mass started and I went through the motions until a word, spoken during the sermon, caught my attention. “ -- The Archangel Michael and the other led by Satan.” the Pastor said. Wait, what had he been saying? Something about armies, squaring off or something. My visitor had used the name Michael twice. I listened to the rest of the sermon which had to do with Satan being thrown out of Heaven and the priest wove it into a general discussion of angels and humans, and their interactions.