“Where have you been?”

Gabe watched Nyalla wipe the sweat from her forehead as he scowled at her. It wasn’t really anger he was feeling, it was relief. Sometime in the night she’d crept into bed with him, and he’d awoken near dawn with arms and legs wrapped tightly around her. It felt right to have her there. She was warm and soft. Her presence calmed him, relaxed that tense, tightly wound part inside himself that never seemed to loosen. He’d dozed back off, the smell of her vanilla shampoo and the feel of her slim body against his filling his thoughts and fueling his very unchaste dreams.

When he’d woken to find her gone, he’d nearly panicked. All sorts of horrible images had been going through his head: Nyalla being raped by the Gormand. Nyalla being killed by that Gormand. Nyalla being killed by Tura. Nyalla being killed by a stray car, or a homicidal human, or a wild dog, or a shark. He had no idea how to contact her, no way to locate her. He felt trapped here, unable to go look for her in case he got lost or she returned in the meantime. Barely tamping down his anxiety, he’d spent the last hour re-folding all of her clothing, organizing it by type and color in the various drawers and closets, then doing the same with every one of her belongings. He was just starting in on the contents of her purse when he’d heard the beep of a swipe card in the door and saw her enter the room.

“Ooo, are we a bit grumpy in the morning? I think so. Relax. I went for a jog. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.” She looked at the object in his hands. “Are you going through my purse? Seriously, Gabe, you can’t do that. You can’t mess with a woman’s underwear, and you can’t go through her purse.”

“What else was I supposed to do? I’ve already organized all of your clothing and the hundreds of little bottles and jars in the bathroom.”

She rubbed her face with her hands, sighing. The woman didn’t seem truly upset. How could she be when the room was now tidy and neat, with everything in its proper place. He’d even moved the furniture to more aesthetically pleasing locations.

“Let’s make breakfast. You’ve got to be starving by now.”

He’d assumed the twisted knot in his stomach was over worry for Nyalla, but now he was remembering it felt similar to this last night as well. But food… It was one thing to drink water and the occasional wine for his heart. It was another to consume dead plants and animals. It all seemed so base, so primitive. Even if he did recover from this spell, his vibration pattern would never be the same.

“Gabe, you have to eat. I promise I won’t tell a soul and once all this is over and you’re an angel again, you can forgo food and drink once more. Heck, you can even stop breathing if you want.”

“I’ve done that, but I can’t communicate with the humans if I’m not breathing. Plus, it tends to cause alarm among them.” Another cramp hit his mid-section. She was right. The pain was horrible, and he already was feeling weak, as if he might lose consciousness. “What do you recommend I eat? It needs to be nutritionally sound. And it shouldn’t be decadent enough to cause me to fall into the sin of gluttony.”

Did she roll her eyes? Gabe was pretty sure that Nyalla had just rolled her eyes.

“Omelets, then. And toast with butter.” She started to pull pans out from under the stove. “Did you shower yet? If you don’t mind me all sweaty cooking breakfast, I’ll grab mine after we eat, and you can get yours while I’m cooking.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to work the bathroom equipment. The water was very cold, and the tub won’t fill up. It just goes down the drain.”

She hesitated. “Did you pee? Do you at least know how to work the toilet?”

“That I figured out, as well as the sink and the mouth-cleaning supplies.”

“You used my toothbrush.” She sighed, as though he’d done something wrong.

“There was only one there. Wasn’t I supposed to use it? I boiled it afterward. Well, I think I boiled it. The machine there with the dirty dishes in it has a setting called sanitize.”

“You ran my toothbrush through the dishwasher?” Nyalla waved a hand in front of her face. “Never mind. Come on. I’ll show you how to work the shower.”

Gabe followed her into the tiny bathroom, taking off his clothing and folding it neatly on the sink while he watched her explain the tub stopper, the temperature controls, and the lever to divert the water to the shower nozzle up on the wall. She turned around and her eyes widened as she looked from his face downward.

“What? Is something wrong? I’m not supposed to take a shower with clothing on, am I?”

“No. Nothing is wrong at all,” she squeaked. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. I mean you were at the beach last night when we were swimming, but it was dark and I don’t see well in the dark, but now it’s daytime and it’s very bright in this bathroom. And…in fact, everything is just perfectly alright. You…scrub everything. I’m going to make omelets now. Making omelets while you’re in here. Then afterward I’m going to take a very long shower. Very long.”

He watched her leave, then adjusted the water to optimal temperature, pushed the lever for the overhead shower, and got in. The moment the water hit his skin, Gabe felt as if he were in a state of bliss. He’d always had an attraction to water, and being one with the sea was equal in his heart to being in Aaru. This was better. Being human meant he felt every drop of water as it impacted his flesh and slid down along his skin. The room steamed up. His muscles relaxed. Even that annoying painful knot in his midsection went away. He could have stayed here forever, but Nyalla was preparing food, and it would be rude to make her wait while he enjoyed the newfound sensation of a hot shower. Reluctantly he turned the water off and dried himself with a towel.

To dress or not to dress? He’d worn those clothes all day yesterday, and since he’d slept in them, Nyalla hadn’t had a chance to wash them last night. The idea of putting them back onto his clean body was revolting. So instead he tried to wrap the towel around himself, abandoning it after several failed attempts to secure it around his hips.

Naked it was. Still he brought the towel with him to put on the chair seat, since he wasn’t confident in the cleanliness of the cushion.

Nyalla caught her breath when she saw him, her eyes doing that slow perusal again. “Oh no. I forgot to buy clothes on my way back from my jog. And yours are dirty. And there’s no way you’ll fit into any of mine — no way at all. She grabbed her phone and typed something, flipping the omelet as she read the response.

“I’m guessing you don’t know what size you wear, do you?”

Gabe looked at his arms, then down at his lap. “Human male sized?”

She grabbed something off the counter and came toward him. “Stand up. I need to measure you.”

He stood and she wrapped a piece of string around his waist, pulling it away to look at it a moment before bending down to wrap it around his lower rear. That dangling appendage used for urination and procreation twitched upright, tapping her in the chin. She giggled and looked up at him.

It was funny. He smiled back. “It does that all the time. Clearly this body likes you. I like you.”

“Well, I like you too. And I also like your body. Perhaps your body and mine can be friends?”

She was teasing him, but there was something behind the words that made him believe she was just as interested in having sexual intercourse with him as his body was to have it with her. But was the angel inside the body interested? Gabriel remembered their kiss last night, the way her skin felt against his in the bed, the dreams he’d had all night, how he’d panicked to wake up and find her gone.

Was it odd that he felt less concern about the effect of sexual intercourse on his vibration levels than eating that omelet she was making? Having random sex with every willing human he came across would have been an appalling abandonment of his morals, but affirming an emotional connection via physical, sensory experience seemed perfectly acceptable.

He was still undecided about the omelet.

“I’m fairly certain that more than our bodies are friends, Nyalla.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was feeling strangely vulnerable, embarrassed by how he’d come to rely upon this woman he’d just met, to have her matter so much to him in such a short time.

“Maybe friends with benefits? Oh no, forget I said that. It’s not what I want anyway. I want more and…just never mind.” She stood and looked at the string, then typed something into her phone. Gabe frowned, trying to make sense of her words.

She waved him to the chair. “Now sit and eat your omelet before it gets cold. Terrelle and Snip are going to buy and bring some clothing for you.”

He sat, taking a few bites of the omelet before he even realized what he was doing. What was this ‘benefits’ thing? Wasn’t friendship inherently beneficial to both parties? Was there something additional that he’d neglected to do? Judging from how flustered Nyalla was, he didn’t think it prudent to ask her. Maybe one of the maids could tell him, or perhaps he’d come across an explanation in one of Nyalla’s many books.

The food tasted amazing. It was all he could do to keep from shoveling it down his throat in a completely gluttonous manner. “This omelet is quite acceptable, by the way. I commend your food preparation skills. I’m concerned that kale and beets will be equally delicious and I’ll find myself having to force myself to restrain from overindulging.”

She beamed. “Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my cooking. And trust me, you won’t find kale and beets delicious.” her smile turned a shade wicked. “And here is that coffee you’ve been resisting for the last year or so.”

Gabriel ate a few more bites and eyed the cups she’d sat in front of his plate. They held liquids of varying shades of brown, some with empty white packets next to them. “I struggle with this even more than the food. It’s not so much the sin of gluttony that I’m afraid of. I’ve made it a practice to refuse coffee every time it’s been offered, and believe me, the Iblis would love to hold me to the floor and pour it down my throat if she could. I’ve never given in. Never. And here I am, a human, about to drink coffee.”

Nyalla sat across from him. “Then don’t. It’s a common human beverage. I like it, and I thought you might enjoy it too. But if it’s important for you to hold fast on this one drink, so be it. That way you can tell Sam that you’ve never ever had coffee and never will. But if you want to try it, then you can trust me to keep it a secret. Maybe you’ll only drink coffee when you’re alone, or only with me and no one else present. It’s up to you.”

It was such a relief to hear her say that. He’d feel better about all his other sensory experiences if he could hold firm and continue to deny himself this one thing.

“I’ll not drink the coffee. Although I feel terrible that you went to all this effort and I’m not even going to try it.”

“It doesn’t require much effort to make.” She pointed to each of the mugs. “Just for your edification, humans enjoy coffee either with or without additives. This one is black with nothing added. This one black with sugar. These other ones have varying amounts of sugar and milk.”

He eyed them with interest. “The cow’s milk. How does my brother like his coffee?”

She laughed. “With so much sugar that he should have an insulin chaser. And it’s about half cream, too. Sam likes hers black with no sugar. Rafi likes to change it up each time he comes over, so I never know how he’s going to want his coffee. Once I saw him pour a bunch of Sam’s vodka in his. He made me promise not to tell her. Sam is very possessive about her vodka.”

He couldn’t help but shake his head. “Greed, gluttony, anger, sloth, envy, lust… The only sin that imp doesn’t wallow in is pride. A bit ironic given that pride is the sin that angels struggle against the most.”

She propped her chin in her hands. “Which sin do you struggle most against? You don’t seem to be particularly prideful, and even with how rapidly you devoured that omelet, I can’t see you as gluttonous.”

“Envy.” He didn’t even need to think about that one. “It’s the curse of the middle sibling to struggle with envy. Not that the order of our creation should ever excuse sin. How about you? Is there a sin you find particularly hard to resist?”

Her eyebrows knitted and she shook her head slowly, taking some time before answering. “I don’t really feel that any of the sins has an irresistible appeal, but I believe that enjoyment in moderation isn’t a sin. Of course, every human has a different idea of where to draw the line between moderation and excess.”

He nodded. “You don’t seem the type to fall under the sway of sin. In that way, you’re a better angel than I am.”

She laughed. “Oh hardly. I know many would say that lust will be my downfall given the number of men I’ve dated in the past few years. I don’t see lust as a sin, though — at least not good old-fashioned healthy enjoyment of sex. It’s not just for making babies. Sex relieves stress. It’s enjoyable, and it bonds people together. Even casual sex. There’s a closeness that happens between two people, a feeling of not being alone in the world. I guess if sex becomes obsessive or harmful, it could be considered a sin, but I don’t believe the act itself could be. Nothing so wonderful could be sinful.”

He looked down at the half-eaten omelet. “By that definition, the consumption of food, the acquisition of material goods…“

“I think the sin is in the excess. Surrounding yourself with beautiful things, crafting food that both meets our nutritional needs and is pleasurable — these things are part of the beauty of life as a human. In moderation, of course. Selfishly hoarding items, eating and drinking to the point that you damage your body or adversely affect your ability to function — that’s crossing into sin, in my opinion.”

He swirled his fork in the food on his plate. Eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables. It had a pleasing flavor and an enjoyable mixture of textures, but he didn’t feel the urge to gorge himself to excess. Could he have been wrong all these billions of years? Had he been on the wrong path all along? “You feel the key is to be centered. To not be an ascetic, nor live in hedonistic excess, but in the middle.”

She smiled, two adorable dimples in her cheeks. “I’ll admit that the occasional excess can be enjoyable too. But yes, traveling the middle path seems to work the best for me.”

He stood, taking her empty plate along with his to the sink. “Go get your shower and I will clean these dishes.

She walked up beside him, brushing her shoulder against his arm as she put the coffee cups into the sink. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

Aaru forbid. “I’ve seen your attempts at cleaning. I’d just end up re-washing the dishes anyway. Go get your shower. You cook. I clean. It’s the perfect division of labor.

She stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “It is. And thank you.”

He finished the dishes, then sat and read one of her books while Nyalla completed her personal cleanliness routines. The book was quite interesting, about a human woman who had been captured when the ship she’d been traveling on was boarded by rapscallion pirates. Lucky for her, they didn’t seem inclined to kill her. Unluckily for her, the pirate captain appeared barely able to keep himself from raping the woman any time he was near. Gabe was quite concerned they’d not make it to port before the woman lost her virtue, especially when the deep breaths she constantly took apparently made her bosom rise and fall with a seductive lure that the captain struggled to resist. He’d just gotten to the part where the captain was about to kill a member of his crew for succumbing to the heaving bosoms and tearing the woman’s dress, when there was a knock on the door.

“I’ve got it,” Nyalla called as she headed toward the door. “Wait. Are you reading one of my books? Uhh, maybe we should buy you some different reading material.”

“Oh no, I’m quite enjoying this one,” he told her, carefully marking his place in the book. Don’t tell me the ending. I’m eager to discover for myself if the captain is able to restrain himself enough to gain Annette’s consent before he attempts penetrative intercourse with her.”

Nyalla made an odd choking noise, then clamped her lips together before turning to open the door. Terrelle bustled in, her arms full of bags. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Gabe, her eyes doing the same downward journey as Nyalla’s had before breakfast.

“Fuck me. Why did you make me buy clothes? He needs to just go everywhere naked. A body that perfect shouldn’t ever be covered up.”

Gabriel spread his arms and looked downward at this human form he was stuck in for the foreseeable future. “Honestly, I have no idea why humans feel the need to cover their bodies. I understand the necessity for additional warmth in some climates, but when in the more temperate zones, clothing seems superfluous. No other mammal, or any animal, does this. I would refuse to comply with such ridiculous customs, but it’s important to blend in. And I’m told public nudity makes humans very uncomfortable and that I could possibly face incarceration.”

“Oh I totally agree with you about the silliness of human nudity laws,” Nyalla said. “The elves don’t have such issues with various body parts being visible. Clothing in Hel is a decoration, not for some ridiculous modesty standard.”

“Well, maybe that will change now that the elves are here,” Terrelle said, still staring at Gabe. “If so, that’s the only positive to their migration from Hel. I’m all in favor of public nudity. Especially when people look like G-man here.”

“Sadly that hasn’t yet come to pass.” Gabe took the bags from her hand and began to pull out various articles of clothing. There were several pair of pants that were so short the hems would come to above his knee. One additional pair of jeans. Two t-shirts, and four very colorful short-sleeved, button downs. There was also something that the tag said was a pair of swim trunks plus a dozen plaid boxer shorts and a packet of socks. From another bag he pulled out two pairs of footwear, shaded-lens glasses, and some toiletry items similar to what Nyalla already had in the bathroom.

“Your own toothbrush.” Nyalla waved it in front of him. “That way you don’t have to use mine and run it through the dishwasher. And this is a razor.”

He eyed the device. “It has a sharp blade between two bits of plastic and a handle. Is it a weapon?”

“A weapon against the horrible hipster trend of lumberjack beards.” She giggled then reached out to run her fingers over his cheek. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this scruffy look on you. It’s edgy. It goes great with that sexy scowl of yours. I just don’t want it to slide into beard territory, and I get the feeling if you don’t shave every day, you’ll be looking like you should be wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a pair of Doc Martens by the end of the week.”

“You’ll show me how to use it?”

There was a spark of something in her eyes, and he once again felt that pesky appendage twitch and stiffen.

“I will absolutely show you how to use it. Tonight, I’ll give you a shave. It would be my pleasure.”

Terrelle snorted. “It’s getting a bit too hot in here for me. Whatever fucking you guys are going to do, hurry it up. We’re supposed to meet the Gormand downstairs at La Mer tonight and I get the feeling that once you two get started, I won’t be seeing you outside the bedroom for weeks.”

Nyalla laughed. “Don’t worry. We have a busy day on the water planned. I’m not about to forget about the reason we’re here, either. I won’t make you two handle this alone. And I especially need you as back-up. Facing that Gormand all alone is unnerving.”

“You won’t be all alone,” Gabe told her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, even if these worthless demons abandon their post.”

“Hey!” Terrelle folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Who are you calling worthless? We’ll be there. And if anything happens, we’ll protect Nyalla. You just worry about making sure that pretty face of yours doesn’t get bruised.”

Gabriel gathered up the bags and headed into the bedroom. “No offense, but you’re an information demon, and the other one is a Low. I might be a human, but I’m better equipped to protect her than you are. Worthless or not, It’s your job to make sure she’s safe. You’ve been tasked with this, and I suggest you take it seriously. Because if Nyalla so much as suffers a paper cut, I’ll take it out of your hide. Understood?”

There was an odd smile on Terrelle’s face. “Understood. Very, very much understood.”