Mikael opened his eyes.

 It was past midnight.  The time had come.

He could feel it, he could smell it. It had been slowly building, coiling tighter and tighter on the upward spiral to an enormous explosion. Oh yes, he breathed deeply.

Now it was all about to begin, and he wanted to celebrate.

He stood over his charge, still asleep. The senator of New York, he snorted. Luc said was destined to become President.  At least, she would have been if the end weren’t near for the spawn of Adam.

He glanced at the doughty woman’s face as she lay sleeping in her opulent canopied bed. Even in the half-light, in the care of Morpehus, anyone could tell she had a vicious streak.

 What a waste of time, being her subconscious guide, but what else did he have to do? The ages had passed, and he had been trapped on this wretched rock they called Earth, as promised. Even still, it was better than the Void where some of his friends were bound for half an eternity.

Why had the Morningstar assigned him to the woman in the first place? Senator Markham was ruthless enough without his guidance, corrupt to the core. She hardly needed him--Rasputin and Genghis Kahn were more apt pupils than she. They’d actually needed some prodding. But this woman needed no help in her quest to ruin her brethren. She easily perverted good values and made them look wholesome, and her knack for deceiving so many could only be called a dark gift.

In fact, she might be one of the select few who, if she saw him, wouldn’t panic… but was it better to remain the invisible force in her life that inspired her to do all sorts of insidious things.

Oh, but praise to the great Universe, the end of days was near! This existence on earth had become insipid. Thousands of years of inspiring lust, mayhem, self service and evil had begun to wear on him. In fact, Luc and the rest of the Fallen had done such a good job through the earlier years that humanity basically ran itself into the ground without their help. There was nothing to do but cruise and watch things happen, especially since Luc spent most of his time with the so-called antichrist.

Mikael stood outside the Senator’s posh townhouse on the Upper East Side, remaining invisible. For a moment, he stared at the dark pavement washed silver in the artificial street lamps.

Sometimes he regretted choosing to fight with Lucifer against Yahweh. Michael would have been the better choice. Since their side won, Michael and his angels retained the luxury of both heaven and earth. Some of these half breed humans even worshipped them.

Mikael stretched his arms outward in a V, glancing heavenward if only for a moment before his jet black wings unfurled, stretching in the first moments of waking. It was only two A.M., and he knew just where to go to revel in the night. Summoning the most minimal of effort, he thought of his attire and how he wanted to appear.

A custom made pair of black slacks first, along with a button down black sweater with the top three buttons open just far enough to hint at the perfectly sculpted male body beneath (a no-brainer, because angels were perfection, and he no exception).  A black overcoat of the softest cashmere pulled the look together. Tonight he would have dark brown hair, and searing blue eyes.

Willing his wings to disappear, he materialized on the street. If he wasn’t mistaken, the club was only a few blocks away.  He was certain quite a few of his kind would be at Mansions. He had even seen Gabriel there on occasion. They had shared a drink and some talk about what was to come.  But tonight, if Gabriel and his ass-kissing angels were amongst the Fallen, they would have no such rapport.

The War was finally on. Again.

Mikael walked in quiet consternation, then hailed a cab at the corner, just for the fun of it.  He could blink himself inside the club if he chose, but that was too easy. Once in the taxi, he produced a small flask from his overcoat and took a drink as he watched the city whiz by, relishing the heady burn of the liquor as it slid down his throat. 

Closing his eyes, Mikael rested his head against the seat. No one knew what would happen to the Fallen after all was over, but it was a given that God would win and get his thousand years of peace and His kingdom come on earth.  But where did that leave Mikael and Luc’s minions? Forgiven? Thrown into the Void? Obliterated from existence?                               

He couldn’t deny that he was what they called ‘evil’.  He enjoyed the nasty stuff, but it had grown boring.  Not that he didn’t appreciate the beauty of the Light and God’s exquisite creations, but he also loved all the baseness the world possessed. It was only in his nature.

After all, he was a conduit for this so called wickedness. It poured into him, filled him, and flowed from him like a fountain.  ‘Evil’ was gratifying, getting what he wanted when he wanted it regardless of consequence or conscience. Though nothing was more gratifying than having a daughter of Eve in his bed, and for that heady pleasure, he would take a sojourn in the Lake of Fire. He would be sure to take two or three home from the Mansions tonight. After all, he had little time left to enjoy them.

When the yellow cab pulled up at the club, he paid the driver and got out, then walked past the throng waiting in line and took his place at the front.

          “Mikael,” the muscled bouncer stepped aside. “Some of the others are inside.”

Mikael nodded and brushed by. So, they dared come here. He parted the black velvet curtains and the scent of cigarette smoke, incense and perfume plumed around him. He assessed the scene.

The undulating bass beat reverberated like a heartbeat through the crowded club. He chose a seat in the roped off section reserved for VIP’s, and sipped from a glass of brandy that seemed to be waiting for him.  What could he do tonight? He scanned the cavernous room paneled in dark cherry wood, lit with soft lighting from chandeliers dripping in amber crystals. 

There were several candidates for his bed, but he wasn’t ready to select one yet. Right now, he needed to mix someone up a bit. His gaze raked the room for a victim.            

Then he saw her. She stood behind a man, whispering in the fool’s ear, no doubt giving him wholesome advice. She was not human. Even though any being there would see her as a luscious, golden haired, utterly screwable daughter of Eve, he knew the difference.

She was a striking creation, praise Yahweh for making her so! Wearing what was en vogue for the city crowd these days, she’d donned a short white trapeze dress, the side slipping off her creamy shoulder.  Her hair was swept back in one of those stylish ponytails, wisps of gold hair falling across her luminescent skin. She was simply perfect, her hourglass figure swelling and dipping impossibly in all the right places as she gracefully balanced on a pair of high heels.

When she noticed him, her clear blue eyes singed his. 

She was one of his kind, far superior than a daughter of Eve, one of Michael’s.  If she hadn’t been so hot, he might have killed her on the spot, but right now all he wanted to do was pound into her for seven days and seven nights, non stop. He had to have this pillar of the Kingdom, this pure, pristine Angel that was surely as mighty as she was beautiful.

“Vaile,” she said, appearing beside him. “I am called Vaile.”

“Mikael.” He smiled, and she did the same.  She smelled good, and he imagined that she tasted even better. “Happy to meet you.”

“Mikael, I know you,” she said, the ethereal light in her eyes sparkling. “You are the Angel of monarchs and heads of state, are you not?”

“In the flesh,” he said smoothly. “I was once the angel of mercy, though not so much anymore.”

“But you ally with Lucifer.” Her gaze penetrated his, setting him on fire. “I feel I must warn you. The End is near. Soon the seals will be broken. You must decide where you stand. Redemption is always an option, for our Creator is kind and merciful--”

“Forget it,” he growled. “I don’t need you to save me. In fact, I’m not sure I want to be.”

Vaile appeared puzzled, as if her holy little mind couldn’t wrap around what he was saying.  “Then what do you want?”

Ah now that was the question, wasn’t it?  He wanted a great many things.  But most of all, right now, he wanted her flat on her back with her limbs tied down so he could give her merciless pleasure and take his own.

“I want you, Vaile,” he said simply. “I want you in the basest, purest, most primal way.”

“You have been on earth too long, Brother.” Her tone cut his heart. “And if I thought it might spare a daughter of Eve, I would take you to my bed. But I can see in your eyes that your old habits die hard.”

She did not mean what she said, of this he was sure.  It was just her way of letting him down. They were angels, and these matters were simple and without consequence.

“You do not desire me,” he stated blandly.

Her eyes flashed silver, and Mikael found himself confused for the first time in a thousand years.

“While I remain in the flesh, rules still apply to me, though they may not to you.” 

Was that all? Because he only needed a few minutes to lead her astray.

She folded her arms over her gorgeous breasts. “You must recall that you are my enemy.”

“Not tonight.” His fingers grazed the soft skin of her shoulder. He took her hand, drew it to his lips, then planted a scorching kiss on the inside of her wrist. All he could think of was defiling her a million different ways…using methods he hadn’t seen since Sodom.

“Very well, Mikael,” she whispered, her shining eyes narrowed. “I will take you to me. But you will pay a price tonight.”

“A price?” He laughed. “And what might that be?”

“I shall name it, and you will be bound to it. Do you agree?”

Heat blasted through him when she gave an enigmatic smile.  He blinked, trying to steady himself. She was no ordinary angel.  “Who are you?”

“I have already said.”  She brought her mouth close to his and her tongue swept across his top lip. “I am Vaile.”

Mikael was intoxicated. Her taste was the sweetest poison, and he was hooked like an addict to a drug.

“Name your price.” His mouth opened as it ghosted hers, his tongue diving inside for a taste. He groaned, wanting more but she drew back.

“I shall name it later, Angel of wickedness.”

She pressed herself against him. She was soft and hard in all the right places, her curves molded seamlessly to his faultless masculine form.

“You are no Angel, she who calls herself Vaile,” he hissed. “To torture me so is a cardinal sin.”

She only laughed, leading him to the door.  “I shall take you where only we can go.”

Vaile exhaled slowly, gently blowing onto his face. Mikael’s eyes rolled back in his head as he realized he was slipping into nothingness.  When he opened his eyes again, they were no longer in the club, but on a rooftop in midtown Manhattan.

 Chills splintered through him as they stood on the ledge overlooking the New York skyline. Colored red and white lights of the panorama stretched before them, Broadway shooting straight down to where the Trade Center used to be, the torch and crown of the Statue of Liberty lit in the harbor. Below them, Times Square flashed with enough artificial light to rival day.

“Do you take responsibility for the role you played in leaving the human world in the condition that it is?” she asked, appearing to him in her true form.

He had never seen any entity as beautiful and terrible as she.  The one who called herself Vaile took his breath away with only a glance. Her wings were feathered in shining black and satiny snow white, her hair indigo and ebony as it blew on the breeze. She wore a black caftan, held over her the swell of her generous breasts by an obsidian cabochon set in sparkling white diamonds. The face of an angel, the soul of something...else.

“You have not answered,” she demanded of him.

“Yes, I have aided and abetted what you may consider evil,” he admitted. “But I did so to help advance what was in the heart of man. It is their instinct to survive and do better that compels the human to descend to their baser needs.”

 “At the cost of others?”

 “The world is full of conquerors and slaves.” He spat. “Winners and losers.  Why should those who want to achieve not do so for fear of creating those who don’t? I simply remove human guilt when it gets in their way.”

“Then you do not deny that under your tutelage the world’s politicians and propaganda machines have sought to corrupt all that is just?”

“I deny nothing.”

“Were you once not the angel of mercy?”

“Once,” he soured. He’d had enough of this cross examination. “When are we going to--”

“Do you not wish to be the angel of mercy once more?”

Mikael backed away, hopping off the ledge to perch on a gargoyle on the front of the building. It would be nice to reprise his role as the angel of mercy. The tainted politicians of this world didn’t need a dark angel to advise them any longer. They had done well enough on their own. Besides, at the end of days, God would need an angel of pity. There would be a lot of people begging for death. Giving it to them would be mercy.

“Think on it, Angel.” Vaile looked down at him from the ledge, her dress billowing on the night breeze.  “I can help you.”

 “You can help me?” He laughed. “It would seem that you are more than you claim to be. But I do not seek, nor do I need help.”

“You must denounce Luc.” In a sigh, she hovered before him in mid air. “I can take you home, Mikael.”

It was tempting. He had to admit. 

“Is that your price?” he teased.

“You are the price.”

She smiled sweetly, Mikael could swear he heard the cherubim singing in heaven.

“I don’t understand?”

“Will you abandon the Legion? Will you rejoin the army of heaven and deliver His wrath upon this earth?”

Something was horribly wrong with this entire encounter. He stood on the gargoyle and she floated before him. Her eyes turned from blue to black, shining silver around each iris with a light from within. Vaile was no Angel. Not one of Luc’s, and not one of His.

Mikael’s knees buckled. Horror filled him. No, she could not kill him, for he could not die...

But he could be thrown into the Void, a meaningless immortality in nothingness.

“Why did you lure me here when you could have just taken from me what you wanted when you first saw me?”

“I needed to give you a choice, Mikael. You need to choose your destiny. I am merely here to see that you get what you deserve.  This is your last chance.”

Mikael found himself weeping.  Weeping not only for his choices, but for those children of Adam that he had guided through the ages. Weeping for the children who would never be born, the men who would die in agony when the seals opened and plagues infested the earth.

Weeping for his eternal separation from the Light.

“I do not deserve mercy,” he cried. “I have led men astray, led still more to slaughter millions and deceive generations.”

“Do you repent?” She lifted his chin with her index finger. “Do you?”

“I cannot.” He shook his head. “I want to, but I cannot. It has been too many years, too many lives. I believe in the ideals that I have taught! I cannot help it if my charges perverted my influence!”

“And so you take no responsibility?” Vaile spouted.

The pain was too great. He was sorry, sorry for something, but not for who he was and what he had done. He had wept for the world, a place he loved, a people who embraced him. But it was all over now.

“I am Vaile,” she stated simply. “I am the one who they call Karma. I am Justice.”

Tentacles of light extended from her fingertips and eyes, and sank into his flesh like sharp hooks. Mikael arched in agony.

“I am the Reaper, I am the Equalizer,” she pronounced, raising her hands to the skies as the pain increased. “I am your Shadow Queen.”

He writhed in excruciating pain as they drifted above the city, his corporal and ethereal body pulsing as fire scorched him to the core. 

“Ask for my pity, and I shall give it to you, on behalf of those you once bestowed it upon.”

“Do not send me to the Void,” Mikael pleaded as a horrendous ache splintered through him. “Have mercy on me.”

“I will grant you that, fallen angel.” Vaile’s eyes flashed silver. “You will have a fitting reward for your deeds.”

He closed his eyes as the scalding torture crescendoed in a symphony of fire, pushing him further and further into burning oblivion. His heart thundered in his ears as he lost control of his body, then his soul.