Burning Desire

Prologue

5 years ago.....

The normally bustling office humming with only the sound of the ancient air conditioner should've been a sign, but he was distracted.

Last night had been a long one and he had fallen straight into his bed without even bothering to undress before he had been awoken so abruptly to a summons.

Getting called to his boss' office was never fun, but when he opened the door and saw the archangel himself instead of his boss Melchior, the thoughts began to race through his head. He was constantly being praised as a rising star and couldn't think of anything that would warrant the angel needing to make an appearance. Last he had heard, the angel was still out in the midst of a civil war, cleaning up Satan's mess as the wrathful Prince had been quite busy. Because of the war, things had been getting a bit hectic, but nothing he couldn't handle. He thrived of the fast-paced job he had chosen.

Melchior's chaos of an office only seemed to showcase the archangel's control of himself. His suit was black, perfectly tailored to his frame and without a single wrinkle. The pearly locks of his hair the light that drew souls to him, either to salvation or ruin. Cautiously, he closed the door and took a seat.

The archangel looked him over with sharp silver eyes glinting like the scythe he was known to carry and he could already feel himself getting lost in them, sinking into them like quicksand. It wasn't apparent the angel's opinion of him. Had he known who he was meeting, he might've dressed up a bit more. As it was, he looked down at his wrinkled band tee and jeans that may or may not have been clean and cringed.

Not the first impression he had hoped to make, but it was what it was at this point. Figured he might as well own it. The angel's hands folded together and he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and quiet, but the authority within it was unmistakable.

"Your record is impressive and curious. You did not follow in your father's footsteps, choosing instead to follow your mother, even if she is a lesser angel. Why?"

It was a question he was used to and angered his father to no end. His father made no secret of hiding his displeasure at his heir not following the path he had set before him. No matter, he was a better reaper than he would have been as a guardian. He had a feeling that only the true answer would do and his usual quip about pissing off the old man would result in an unpleasantness he could only imagine. The angel was known for his quiet, thoughtful compassion, but all archangels had lines you never wanted to cross.

He went with the truth. "Protection can come in many forms. I find protecting the dead and their souls to be the way that calls to me. That and I'm just plain good at it."

The angel's eyebrow inched up in amusement. "Is that so?"

"You've seen my record sir. I'm the youngest reaper for a reason," he stated. There was no reason to brag and the extra gifts he had received as his father's son probably added to his success, a fact that angered his old man to no end.

"I have an assignment for you, long term. It will be your only assignment. This is a matter between the two of us and if I find you have spoken of it to anyone, including your father, the Maker himself won't be able to save you." The angel's eyes bored into him and he knew his answer was going to change his life as he knew it. He was up for the challenge.

"I need you to watch a target, unseen. You are to protect her from being reaped. At all costs. Do you understand?"

Stays of reaping were common when it came to important figures that would affect the world's balance, but this was different and he knew it. The archangel wouldn't come down for a simple stay.

"Yes sir," he answered, sealing his fate and entwining it with his target. "Who's the target?"

The angel smiled and the act was unnerving. The Angel of Death was not one whose face you wanted to see. "A succubus."