Chapter 10A: Isiah

If anything can put a smile on a man’s face, it’s having regular sex with a woman he truly adores. Having been without for so long I don’t want to imagine going back to the way it was. I seriously underestimated the importance of having a sexual relationship. You may ask yourself if I see Lauren as my sister. I really don’t. Recalling the memories of our earlier lives is one thing, but my deep feelings for Lauren is far from brotherly. She obviously feels the same. We have a lot of shared memories stretching over the millennia and each time we were never siblings. Even now, we have different parents. Looking at us side by side, we don’t even look like siblings. You MAY see a resemblance to our father the Archangel if you were ever in the same room. It’s complicated.

My reservations about Abigail is the truth. I am almost positive both Thomas and Abigail are seraphim. I was telling the truth to Lauren about Abigail. Mostly. The absolute truth of the matter is my initial feelings toward her were in fact colored by the fact she was there to help Lauren die peacefully. Despite her altruism, I couldn’t shake she was simply a reminder. Once our divinities were restored, my opinion took a different form completely.

You hear all the time men talk about their preferences toward blondes, brunettes, or redheads. My feeling was similar except instead of attracted toward a hair color, I was attracted toward the brightness of her divinity. Analyzing how I was feeling, I didn’t feel the same toward Bree. A pure angel, her power was superior. In no way was my attraction toward Bree the same. Bree is, without a doubt, unbelievably beautiful, and her inner light was several magnitudes greater. Bree is the only female angel I’ve met, and Abigail is the second seraph. If I ever meet another female seraph I will know for sure if I’m attracted to seraphim or not. It didn’t help Abigail is an exotic beauty and has a sexy European accent which, combined could make a priest forget his vows of celibacy. I did see glimmers of tattoos she tried to hide beneath her clothes. She also held herself very upright in what I would see as either, a beauty pageant winner or a military posture. I guess the latter. Reinforced by the fact, when Lauren and I were fighting in the living room and she came out with a handgun. She held it with obvious familiarity.

This leads me to my next thought, I assumed seraphim are uncommon. However, we have two in our close circle. An odd coincidence.

On a different topic of note, Lauren told me of her approximate net worth. To say the least I didn’t know how to respond. I tried to insist it was her money and was none of my business. She didn’t accept that as an answer and nearly caused us to have a fight over it. When I finally conceded we would share everything we owned she gave me a spending card. It’s linked to accounts she owned. When I asked about the approximate spending limit on the card. She told me it was in the mid six figures but admitted that wasn’t the hard limit. I could have shit a fucking brick and wouldn’t have been nearly as surprised! Do people really have this kind of wealth? Apparently so. She said that wasn’t everything because she split up her accounts for security purposes. She owned property all over the world. This new world will take some adjustment.

As Lauren mentioned when we returned, I spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out how to use my divinity. Not making much progress, I thought of a person who could help, my father Michael the Archangel. I was standing next to the lake by the cabin when I closed my eyes and called out mentally.

“Father! I need your help.”

“Son,” came a deep voice nearby.

Opening my eyes and turning to him it was easy to see how I inherited my size. Our build was almost identical. The glaring difference was my skin and hair color, it resembled my mother. Eve.

I was awash with a mixture of emotions knowing he is my real father, a sense of pride but also abandonment. As an orphan, I hoped I was secretly related to an important family or my birth father would return and beg my forgiveness. Nothing of the sort ever happened. As it turns out, my heritage was more significant than I could have imagined. The feeling of abandonment left when I called out to him and he arrived instantly. I knew in my heart it would always be this way from now on.

“Son, are you ok?” He looked concerned.

I forced a smile through my musings. “I’m ok father. What should I call you? Father? Dad? Michael? Archangel?”

His face shifted from concerned to a softer expression. “You seem to prefer calling me father. I like it. Let’s go with that.”

I nodded. “I was hoping you could show me how to use this power. I can see it around me, and I can draw it and move mine out but that’s about it. I can’t figure out anything else.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked

“Let’s start with something simple.” I suggested

The mighty Archangel nodded and looked up. He held his hand out and a large bald eagle landed on his right forearm.

“Let’s start with a blessing. I want you to move a tiny spark of your divinity into this eagle. When you do, I want you to imagine the effect you want. A long life, a successful hunt, to find a mate, anything. Or, you could just leave it open and allow God’s grace to decide. Some would refer to this type of blessing as simple luck or serendipity.”