When Auriel woke, we returned immediately to Heaven. He was too weak to talk besides a couple grunts and moans, and returning us to Heaven took the last of his energy. I had to support him, still clutching the remains of my own clothes, shouting for a medic.

Angels immediately clustered around us, and someone carried Auriel away, dashing down to where I suppose the infirmary was.

"Are you hurt?" One angel asked me. I shook my head. "Best of luck to you then, fledgling." He clapped me on the back.

I decided I probably needed to check in with Michael to get new clothes. I wasn't sure if Uriel, being another Archangel, had been informed of my true gender- just to be safe, I probably should speak only with Michael.

The idea made my stomach turn. I hadn't exactly been a popular kid back in high school, and the knowledge that he wanted me in any way made me nervous. What did I want? Did I want him?

The memory of our kiss yesterday mixed with the one of hellfire I had shared with Azazel. I wasn't in the mood for romance. I think I needed a good bath.

I found Michael in his throne room, again pouring over papers. I glanced at them as I approached; they looked like maps.

"Eden!" He paused to look at me. "Oh no. Are you hurt?"

"I was hurt." I said, undoing the knots I had tied to keep my shirt covering my chest. "Here..."

"Oh, no." Michael said, shielding his eyes. "Please, I'd rather you seek medical care with Raphael. He is trustworthy. I'll get you new clothes in the meantime."

"No, it's okay." I insisted. "I'm not hurt. And I'm not modest, so don't be so abashed."

Though I hadn't fully finished removing my shirt, Michael was still keeping his gaze off me. "Here. Let's go to the bathroom. So no one walks in."

Only once the door was closed behind us did Michael meet my gaze, and surprisingly he looked quite curious. He... knew what breasts looked like, right?

"See, the demon cut me with his claws, and it was really pretty gross and bloody, but then..." I was talking excessively as I took off my shirt, Michael's unrelenting raze making me a bit nervous. "It healed right up!" I put the rags of my shirt and binder on the ground, and traced the lines of my new scars.

I looked up at Michael, and noticed he again was averting his gaze, a blush looking strange on his sharp face.

"Oh come on." I sighed. "You've seen a nipple before, right? In the mirror? This isn't any different."

Michael quickly darted his gaze over to me and then continued staring off at the wall. "I know! I am sitting here, reminding myself that... I'm an all powerful Archangel. Generally above sexual thoughts. But... it's been a while."

"Really? Since you've seen a girl with her shirt off."

Michael rolled his eyes, still not meeting my gaze. "I barely leave Heaven. There's enough to be done here that my presence on the battlefield is rare. And it's rarer that I go out and seek... I'm sorry. I'll act a bit more mature." He cleared his throat. "What happened to the demon?"

"I hurt him. He had this burn across his face." I blinked. The speed in which he changed from from blushing schoolboy to authoritative ruler surprised me. "And I left a large circle of burnt plants after I did this."

"Ah. This is particularly worrying. Here, is it alright if I touch the wound?"

"Yeah, if it helps, of course."

"Just... you know... it's a bit-"

"Nothing sexual about examining a wound."

"Right." Michael said, catching himself. He sat next to me on the rim of the bathtub and lightly traced one of the claw marks, following its path. I noted with amusement he chose the one that went precisely between my breasts.

"You're obviously a Summoner, but... powers like that are not often heard of in angels."

"Am I... powerful?"

"Yes, but also quite weak. Ash rings are a strange mark to leave, but most angels would have killed a demon- not left a mere mark."

"So..."

"Your power seems to be a bit... demonic in nature." He grimaced. "This doesn't mean you're some kind of half-angel, half-demon mix, though that is an option. It might mean that you were marked as a child, or perhaps this is just some school of magic that hasn't been seen in angels in a long while."

"What should I do?"

"Celebrate." Michael shrugged. "You have your weapon."

"Hm." I said. "I still don't understand it."

"There are other Summoners out there. They'll teach you what you need to know." Michael ran his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ears. "I wouldn't worry."

"Michael..." I said his name softly, and he cocked his head, leaning in close and staring into my eyes with his crystalline cobalt orbs. "What are we?"

He smiled, and then leaned in closer, kissing me softly on the lips. His touch was healing to me, his smell like the ancient sea wiped away the traces of charcoal still lingering on my tongue. His kisses were so soft and sweet that I couldn't help but pull him closer, pressing my body against his, my energy becoming more passionate.

"What are we?" Michael murmured, his breath hot against my neck. "Want to find out?"

I gasped as he pulled me forward onto his lap, pressing me against his body. His fingers roved across my skin, lightly grazing every inch. Our kissing had been passionate, in the moment, sincere.

Now it was wanting.

At some point Michael laughed and suggested we head to his bedroom to finish this instead of sitting on the rim of a bathtub and making out until we grew uncomfortable.

In reply, I shoved him into the tub and kissed him harder.