“Maybe,” I said.
“Mm-hm.” He turned his attention to the armies. “Which Court is made of the finest soldiers?”
“Court of Command!”
“And what’s this Court do?”
“Defend the realm.”
“How?”
“By slaying evil.”
“What’s it take to slay evil?”
“Relentless training.”
“So which one of you approached Julia about rest?”
Silence.
“Got ya.” He laughed. “You may take the day off.”
“Hoorah,” the mortal army shouted.
The angels ceased humming and stared. Michael laughed again. I didn’t believe I’d ever heard him laugh like that before. He slung an arm around my waist and pressed me against his body. We lifted, and surprisingly, my stomach didn’t lift with us. The fleet remained in position, albeit a bit more relaxed.
“Are they waiting for something?” I asked.
“They’re confused about the rest.” Flying under them, Michael flipped into a horizontal position with me beneath him. I gripped his neck with one hand and a bicep with the other. “What are you doing?” I glanced behind my shoulder and gulped. He positioned us horizontally about fifty feet from the ground. “I’m going to fall.”
“There’s no splattering in this Court, Julia. How is your sickness?”
I contemplated lying and decided I would. “Terrible. I’m gonna barf.”
Golden eyes narrowed. “I’m feeling adventurous.”
“Oh no.” I shook my head.
He spread his arms, actively letting go of me, and I screamed but didn’t fall, somehow hovering parallel with the ground. “Oh my God, oh my God.” His kilt fluttered around me, maybe securing my position, maybe not. I didn’t know.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I gulped. “Yeah, but there’s no need for adventure. Believe me, you are the adventure of my life.”
He smiled. “I am?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you, Julia. You’re the meaning of my life.” He leaned in, clearly expecting me to say something, likely respond to his proposal. I opened my mouth to tell him I loved him too, when we catapulted through the air. I screamed. My hair whipped my face, and I flailed my arms, trying to reach him. I grabbed his left elbow, dug my fingernails into it. He flipped me so I faced forward and held me under my belly, then took a sharp right turn and flew between the townhomes, heading toward the one at the street’s end. We approached the house too fast. We would crash into it. I stretched out my arms as if that would prevent me from crashing through the window.
Right before we hit the house, he jerked us to the left and picked up speed. Townhomes blurred as we passed them. My face jiggled and my mouth kept flopping. I must look like a dog who stuck its head out the window while the owner drove on the highway.
“You put your arms out. No trust,” Michael said. “Let’s try again.”
I barely saw the house before Michael took another sharp left turn. “Better,” he said.
The only reason I hadn’t put my hands up was because I couldn’t see when he flew this fast, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that.
Finally, he slowed down, and we returned to a vertical position. My knees wobbled as my boots touched the ground, and Michael held me against his hard body with a palm pressed to the small of my back.
I wiped the tears from my face. “Good Lord, have mercy. That was… It was…an adventure.” If it didn’t give me a heart attack, maybe it’d make me stronger.
“Indeed.”
I looked around and spotted a sign above us. It read: Fourth Street: Norah quarter.
Michael took my hand and led me to a home that looked like all other homes and a door that looked like all the other doors. He knocked while I finger-combed my hair.
“Coming,” said a woman, and my heart leapt. I will not cry. I will not cry.
The door opened, and my mom smiled. She motioned with her hand. “Come in, come in. It’s gonna snow.”
Michael nudged me, which I appreciated, or I’d have stayed outside and stared at her.
In the hallway, she took my coat and extended her hand. “Elaine. So nice to meet you, Julia.”
I could only nod and shake her hand. Soft, warm, feminine. Her face appeared rounder than I remembered, and she’d put on some weight, but that just made her look healthier and prettier, young and vibrant and more like a woman in her midthirties than midforties. Her brown eyes, the same color and shape as mine, narrowed at the corners as she smiled and tilted her head. “Oh God, let me guess. There’s flour on my face.” She wiped her cheeks. “Did I get it?”
“Yes,” I said and looked up at Michael, knowing he’d understand. “My answer is yes.”
Michael brushed his wing along my arm.
Dad descended the steps and shook hands with us, then invited us into the living room, where my little brother stacked wooden pieces on the floor before a fireplace. He stood, swiping his dark hair away from his face, wide green eyes on Michael. His jaw dropped, and he gaped. “The commander is in my house.” He threw up his hands. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he’s coming?”
“We told you Michael is coming,” Dad said and groaned as he sat on the brown leather couch. Not a Chesterfield, but warm and worn as if they’d lived there all their lives. Steam rose from the tea on the table. He helped himself to a cup, offering us one. Michael and I excused ourselves.
“Dad,” Nathan interrupted, “He’s not just Michael.”
“I am,” Michael said.
“Well, yeah, but not really. And who’s she?”
I laughed, because Nathan hadn’t changed.
“She’s my soul’s mate.”
“That sounds so cool. Are you going to have sex and make babies with her?”
Dad slapped his forehead.
Mom rounded the couch, face the color of a tomato. “We are terribly sorry.” She bent at the waist and spoke to Nate. “Honey, we never ask that. Ever. Okay?” She kept nodding her head until Nate nodded his and got back to building something from the wooden blocks.
“Please have a seat,” Dad said.
I sat across from him. Michael looked around, then spotted a decorative ottoman and sat
