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Camael had not willed himself invisible this time, and Aaron caught her staring at the large, older manbehind him—too stubborn to ask his identity. She would wait until he got around to explaining who Camael was.

"This is my friend," he said in introduction. "The one who had some business up inPortland ?" She nodded slowly, remembering the conversation that they'd had the first night over supper. "He just got back this morning," he explained.

Camael was silent, studying the old woman just as she was studying him.

"Is he staying for breakfast?" she asked, taking the eggs with her to the stove.

Aaron was about to answer for the angel, when Camael suddenly spoke for himself. "I will have Frenchfries," he said, stunning Aaron with his answer.

Mrs. Provost completely unfazed by the angel's request, reached down to the stove and pulled it open. A new delicious aroma wafted out of the oven with a blast of heat. There was something cooking insideon metal sheet.

"Don't have any French fries, but how about home fries—will they do?" she asked. "My husband, God rest his soul, used ta tell me that I made the best home fries inNew England ." She used an oven mitt covered in a pattern of bananas to remove the hot pan of browned, chopped potatoes from the stove.

"If you like French fries, you're going to love these," Aaron told the angel, his mouth beginning to water.

"Then I will have—home fries," he said, eyeing the breakfast dish now resting atop the stove.

It was all pretty strange and quite amazing, Aaron mused as he finished up giving Gabriel his breakfastand watched the kindly old woman expertly crack the last of the eggs into the frying pan, makingbreakfast as if it were just like any other day of the week. It was hard for him to wrap his brain aroundthe concept. Less than two hours ago he had been fighting for his life against a force that could very wellhave threatened the world— but here he was now, about to sit down to a big breakfast of bacon, eggand home fries. The realization that his life had dramatically changed was again driven home with theforce of an atomic blast—and with every new day, it seemed to change more and more. Aaronwondered if he'd ever get used to it, if it would ever seem as mundane as sitting down to eat breakfast.

Shaking some salt onto his eggs, he watched the angel Camael take a tentative bite of home fries andbegin to chew. A look that could only be described as pleasure spread across his goateed face, and hegreedily began to eat.

Would his life ever seem so mundane again? he wondered, watching as an angel of Heaven consumed aplate of home-fried potatoes beside him.

He seriously doubted it.

Miss you. Love Aaron.

Aaron sat back in the desk chair, contemplating the last words he had typed in his e-mail to Vilma.
Is ittoo strong?
 
he wondered, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tried to decide. His feelings for thegirl back home hadn't even come close to changing, and the more he thought about her, the longer hespent away from her—the stronger they seemed to become.

An all too familiar sadness washed over him as he wondered if he would ever see the pretty Brazilian girlagain. He knew it was for her own good that he stay away—Verchiel would certainly think nothing ofusing her to get to him— but a selfish part of him wanted to be with her, no matter the consequences.

Aaron read through the e-mail again, smirking at how boring it all sounded—if only he could write evena portion of what he'd been experiencing.

Miss you. Love Aaron.

He wondered what Vilma was doing just then. It was early Sunday morning, and heguessed that sheprobably wasn't even up yet. He wouldn't have been, either but they had to get going and continue hissearch for Stevie. He always loved sleeping late on Sundays, reading the
Globe
 
with a big glass of milkand a couple of Dunkin' Donuts that his foster dad would buy. But that was then.

Aaron read the e-mail one last time and deemed it perfectly fine.
What do I have to lose?
 
He clicked onthe Send button and watched his letter disappear into the electronic ether.
No turning back now,
 
hethought, in more ways than one. There was only the road ahead of him now, and at the end of that roadhe hoped to find his little brother, and maybe a chance at a normal life—if fulfilling an ancient prophecydidn't get him killed first.

Gabriel and Camael had started loading the car. Aaron was just about to shut the computer down when Mrs. Provost appeared in the doorway to the tiny office. "Don't shut that off right yet," she said. "I wasthinking of maybe sending a note to my son."

Aaron got up and motioned for her to take the chair. "That would be nice. I'm sure he'd like to hear fromyou." He suddenly wondered if it could have been Leviathan that had kept her from leaving Blithe allthese years.

"Damn thing'll probably blow up in my face," she said, scowling at the computer as she took a seat in

front of the monitor.

"You'll do fine," he said. He then remembered that he hadn't paid the woman yet for his stay, and reached into his pocket for the money there. "Oh, before I forget," he said handing her the stack of bills. She took it from his hand and began to count it.

"Gave me too much," she said, handing back more than half the cash.

"You said that it was—"

"Are you calling me a liar, Corbet?" she interrupted with a scowl worse than the one she had given the

computer.

Aaron knew he was on the edge of real trouble here. "No, it's just that you said—"

"Never mind what I said. This is plenty." She held up the money she had kept, then folded it and stuck it inside the front pocket of her ancient blue jeans. "I enjoyed your company—and your dog's, too, even though he's a bit of a pig, if you ask me."

Aaron laughed. "You don't have to tell me! The boy's been like that since he was a baby. His stomach'sa bottomless pit."

They both laughed.

"Well, I gotta hit the road," Aaron said. "You take care of yourself, Mrs. Provost," he said, waving

good-bye as he left the office doorway.

"Same to you, son," she said. "You and that dog of yours stop by again sometime, and bring your

handsome friend along too."

Aaron headed for the front door, listening tothe old woman's fingers tentatively moving on the keyboard. It sounded as though she was doing just fine, but as he opened the door, he heard her curse and threatenthe computer with being tossed out with the trash. Laughing softly to himself, he stepped from the houseto join his friends.

Aaron was passing beneath the flowered archway to go to his car when he saw Katie McGovern. Shewas dressed in a baggy white T-shirt and some running shorts. The vet was patting Gabriel, checking outhis bite wound. Aaron noticed that her hand was bandaged as well. "Hey," he said, approaching themand his dog.

"Hey, back," she answered. "Was out running and saw Gabriel in the yard. He begged me to come pet him." "Healed up pretty fast, didn't he," she pointed out, running the flat of her bandaged hand along the dog's flank.

"I didn't tell her anything,"Gabriel grumbled, looking at him guiltily, tongue lolling.

Aaron ignored the dog. "I don't think it was as bad as it looked—and plus, he had the best vet in townlooking after him. How could he do anything but miraculously heal?" he asked, chuckling. They wereboth patting theLabrador now, and the animal was in his glory.

"So you're leaving, huh?" she said, eyeing his vehicle. He looked where she was staring and saw that

Camael had already taken up his place in the front seat, patiently waiting.

"Yeah, got some things to take care of," he said, stroking Gabriel's side. "Thought I'd get an early start."

"Is that the friend you were waiting for?" she asked, motioning with her chin to the car, and the back of

Camael's head.

"That's him. Got back fromPortland yesterday," he lied.

"Nothing I could say to get you to stick around and help Kevin and me with the practice, is there?" she

asked halfheartedly, already expecting that she knew what his answer would be.

"You and Kevin, eh?" he questioned, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Yeah," she said, now rubbing Gabriel's ears. "Since he got back, we've been spending a lot of time with each other and have decided to give it another go." Katie shrugged. "We're taking it a day at a time—see what happens. So I guess your answer's no?"

Camael turned around in his seat and gave him an intense stare.
Even an angel's patience has its limits,
he thought, moving gradually toward the car. "Sorry," he said, opening the back door of theToyota for Gabriel. "Still got something I have to do, but thanks for offering." He thought of his little brother still inthe clutches of killer angels and he felt his pulse rate quicken. The dog jumped into the backseat, and heslammed the door closed.

"You're good, Aaron," she said, hands on her hips. "If you ever need a letter of recommendation for

school or anything, be sure to look me up, okay?"

"Thanks," he said, opening the driver side door. "You take care now. I hope everything works out

between you and Kevin."

Aaron sat behind the steering wheel and was just about to slam the door of theToyota closed when

Katie abruptly stopped him.

"The other night," she said, her eyes wide. She licked her lips nervously. "You know what happened

then—don't you?" Katie nervously played with the bandage on her hand.

Aaron looked into her eyes and told her that he didn't know what she was talking about, but hesuspected that she didn't believe him.

"There's a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I should be thanking you for something—but

for the life of me I don't know why."

He turned the key in the ignition and started up the car. "You don't have to thank me," he said, shakinghis head, feeling a little sad that he was leaving. The town ofBlithe had really started to grow on him. Hisown little voice—the selfish one again—was telling him that he should turn the car off this instant, accept Katie's offer, and take up permanent residence in the now peaceful town—to turn his back on the

prophecy.

"Never ignore the little voice in the back of your head, Aaron," she said, leaning into the open window and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. But he knew that it wasn't to be; that if he had listened, it would be no better than the false peace that he had known in the belly of Leviathan.

"Thank you," she said as she withdrew herself from the car.

"You're welcome," he responded, and she turned from the car with a final wave and continued with her

morning run.

He had responsibilities now, he thought as he watched Katie recede downBerkely Street , duties thatextended far beyond his own personal satisfaction and happiness. It was a lot to cope with, but whatchoice did he have, really? He'd tried to deny it, to keep it locked away, but that had almost got himkilled. Begrudgingly, he was beginning to accept it was all part of what he had to do—the job he hadbeen chosen for.

"I like her,"Gabriel said as Aaron put the car in drive, beginning the process of turning the car around on

the dead-end street.
 
"Even if she is a vet."

"Ilike her too," Aaron said in the midst of completing a three-point turn, his mind already elsewhere. He

thought about his brother, and the dangers that were obviously to come—and he thought about his father.

He began to drive upBerkely Street , and on reflex turned on the radio. Paul McCartney and the rest ofthe Beatles were singing "Yesterday." It had always been one of his favorite oldies, and listening to thewords now, it had new meaningfor him. He turned the volume up a bit and felt Camael's burning gazeupon him.

"I want you to listen to this," he said, glancing over at the scowling angel as he took a left off Berkely and

headed back through the center of town. "Don't think of it as a song—think of it as poetry."

"I despise poetry," the angel growled, looking away from him to gaze out the passenger window at Blithe

passing by.

"Bet you thought you hated French fries too," Aaron said, chuckling.

Would his life ever again be filled with lazy Sundays reading the newspaper, drinking milk, and eatingdoughnuts? Aaron had no idea what the future held, but he
did
know it would certainly be interesting; itwas in the job description.

What else would one expect as a Messenger of God?

epilogue

It was a dream—but it felt like reality.

The night was cool, although she could feel the heat from the sand, warmed by the day's relentlesssun,beneath her bare feet as she fled across the ocean  of desert.

It seemed so real, as if part of a life lived in the past. Long, long in the past.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she turned back to gaze at the city burning in the distance—
somehow she knew that its name was Urkish.
 
The sky above the primitive desert-city had turnedblack,as smoke from the burning buildings of straw  and mud rose to hide the stars.