Apocalypse Rising: Knight of Pentacles
an Arcana by Mychael Black
Torquere Press
Angel Mikhail has been assigned to watch over a human named
Andrew
Blackwell. As a Watcher angel, he's used to such things, but there's
something about Andrew that draws him, something he can't quite resist.
When Andrew is attacked by the minions of Hell, Mikhail takes extra
care to keep Andrew safe, taking him to a place called Caeli, a realm
between Heaven and Earth.
Andrew feels the attraction to
Mikhail, but he knows he can't stay in Caeli. He has a life, after all.
When he returns home, though, the attacks start up again, leaving him
on the run. Can Mikhail find a way to keep Andrew safe, and keep Andrew
with him, where the man belongs.
: :
Excerpt:
Andrew nudged the man beside him with his foot. "Dude, get up. I gotta
go to work." When all he got in response was a grumble, Andrew got up
out of bed and yanked the covers off. "Dale!"
"Goddamn it!" Dale scowled up at him from under tousled hair. "What
time is it?"
"Eight. Now get up." Andrew dropped the blanket on the floor. "I'm
getting in the shower. Lock the door when you leave."
"Yeah, yeah." Dale sat on the edge of the bed and yawned. "Can't you
take a day off or somethin'?"
Andrew rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom. "Uh, right. All this
shit takes money, remember? Still an economy. Gotta have the good
stuff."
The thrum of the water soon drowned out Dale's bitching, but Andrew
thought he heard a "later" in there somewhere. He washed quick, not
wanting to overdo it on the water usage. Talk of clean water shortages
was prevalent in even his social circle, and he tried to remain on the
conservative end of the scale while maintaining a lifestyle of at least
semi-luxury. He wondered if other cities that had rebuilt had similar
issues, or if it was just a New York thing.
Turning the water off, he grabbed a towel from what used to be a
functional warming rack. Now, though, it simply served as a chrome
towel bar. He dried and wrapped the towel around his waist, then went
back into the bedroom.
"Holy fuck!" He slammed back against the wall, heart going ninety miles
an hour.
The stranger seated on the bed looked amused, one dark eyebrow lifting.
"Interesting way to put it, but I suppose if you swing that way--"
"Who the fuck are you?" Andrew remained plastered to the wall, wishing
he could merge with it and become invisible. His only route of escape
would involve passing the man. "How the hell did you get in here?" Oh,
he was so going to kick Dale's ass...if he made it out of here.
"Who I am depends on who you ask."
"Huh?" Andrew shook his head to clear the fog of panic from his brain.
"If Dale let you in, I swear I'll beat the motherfucker's--"
"Whoa, easy," the man interrupted. "I don't know anyone named Dale, so
don't get bent out of shape over him."
"Bent out of shape? I get out of the shower and find a strange man in
my apartment, sitting on my bed, and you tell me not to get bent out of shape?"
The man stood and Andrew tried desperately to flatten himself into the
wall some more.
Goddamn, this guy was tall.
Like, giant-size, even compared to Andrew's own six-foot-two. Broad
shoulders, huge fucking arms and legs. He had to be at least seven and
a half feet in height. He stepped closer until mere inches separated
them.
"My name is Mikhail."