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Forbidden Fruit

By Scott Rinehart All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Fantasy

Chapter 1

On 16 Jun 2015 millions of miles away, between Mars and Jupiter, NASA's Dawn spacecraft gave NASA scientists their first glimpse of the dwarf planet Ceres, the largest object in the asteroid belt. One big surprise was a series of very bright spots in the images of Ceres' surface. Despite some Internet conspiracy claims that the bright lights are from an alien city, Dawn mission scientists say these spots are more likely ice or salts.

  The true nature of these bright areas will remain a mystery until Dawn can get closer and study the bright spots in more detail. In its closest orbit, Dawn's cameras will capture images with 36 times better detail than those it's currently transmitting. A recent video interview with Dawn's top scientists at Jet Propulsion Laboratory spoke about what the bright spots could mean.

  They said that the dwarf planet could hold clues from billions of years in the past when Ceres was warmer and may have harbored a liquid ocean beneath its surface. One of the goals of the mission will be to determine whether the world was once capable of supporting life.

  The National Security Agency wanted to know more, as in were there any threats to the United States and the rest of the World. Section Stargate was tasked with finding out, and they of course chose their top remote viewing operative Cassandra Covert.

  She of course sought the assistance of her friend Raziel, the Angel of Mysteries, to whom her heart belonged. She knew that this was forbidden, he had told her himself. She chose to sacrifice her own happiness to simply remain his friend. If she could not have his love, there was no reason that she could not stay close to him, and give him hers. She had no way of knowing the sacrifice that he had made for her. She was about to find out.

  She found him at his desk in the Akashic Record, which this time appeared as a major metropolitan newspaper office from the 1940s. The typewriter in front of him was typing a story about God commanding his newly created friend the Demiurge to start the Creation of the Omniverse, creating all universes within life would exist. It is known as the Omniverse, as it encompasses all universes, variants of universes, and all life therein.

  “Miss Covert, what brings you here?” he asked.

  “Why so formal, Raziel, I don’t see you for about a month, and suddenly we’re not on first name basis, and since when do you not know why I’m here? Is your boss here? He’s here isn’t He? I’ll be a good girl then, wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” Cassandra said, teasing him as she liked to do. 

  “Of course I know why you’re here; I simply thought to start the conversation pertaining to your inquiry. The spots on Ceres are not reflections off of ice or water, or the remnants of some alien city, they are simply deposits of reflective minerals closely related to silver and iron pyrite.” he said.

  “That’s it, just an explanation, no showing me the surface of Ceres and what is causing the reflections? Raziel, are you OK? I mean can angels even get sick? Are we OK, or have I done something to upset you?” Cassandra was extremely concerned at this point. She was used to his occasional stoicism, but this cold automaton she was talking to now had less emotion than Mr. Spock.

  “Did you require seeing Ceres firsthand?” he asked.

  “No, but…” she started.

  “Then there would be no need of showing you. As for your other questions, I am fine, angels can get sick but I am not, and you have done nothing I can recall to upset me.” he said coldly.  

   “Then what is all of this? You’re acting like a robot or something, and you don’t usually interrupt me.” She said.

  “If you have no other questions about Ceres, I do have work to do. It will be my pleasure to assist you with your next inquiry, unless you would prefer that I assign someone else.” Raziel said, ending the conversation. She left, hiding the tear that was still in her eye when she came out of her meditative state.

  She couldn’t have known what he had done; he didn’t even have a memory of it. He had taken all of his feelings for her, and the memory thereof, and put them in a small crystal vial, that now sat on a shelf in the vault of his office. Although it had the physical appearance of a vault, it was really just facet flying apart from a diamond-like reality. He didn’t even know that it was there.

   On her way home that night she broke into tears as Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams made her think of him. She wanted to be his so bad, but knew she couldn’t. Cassandra di not under any circumstances want her love for him cause him to sin against God, and be sent to Hell as she knew could happen. She had already accepted that, but was happy with still having him in her life. Now this happened, and she could feel herself losing him forever. And she had no idea how to keep him in her life.

  The next day she was determined to pull herself together. She had a class of new viewers to instruct and she couldn’t fall apart in front of them. The lessons were mostly on meditation, followed by practical applications. She had separated them after the lecture and assigned them different items to locate. Find the agent that was off that day, track the recent history of a dollar bill, find the lost puppy, and find the child in the Amber Alert. For her star pupil Tia, she picked something else. She wanted to know where to find a resource on the laws that angels had to follow.   

  Tia was good, almost as good as Casandra or those that pioneered remote viewing. Tia was deep in meditation and focused on finding these laws for angels. In her mind she an old family bible in Mexico, and the pages opened before her. In her mind’s eye she zoomed in upon a note written in the margin in Spanish. It read, “El libro se llama sobrenatural.” Searching deeper she found that supernatural as it is translated to English was actually referring to a Hebrew book. The original owner of the bible was trying to find the book. The book although tied to Kabbalah mysticism focused on laws that the Unearthly had to follow. 

  The book covered laws for both angels and demons, but was scribed by a Rabbi named Ryszard in 1095, prior to the First Crusade. He had obtained the laws through a dream, during which he had met Raziel in the Akashic Record. The book fell into the hands of Muslims first, but then into the hands of Crusaders who took it to Pope Urban II. It was sealed away with other works considered blasphemous by the Church. It sat amongst pagan scrolls and items from ancient Egypt. It fell into the hands of the Illuminati when some its members defected from the Vatican, as Christians of good stature were welcome, but not Jews or pagans.

  The Illuminati were in the process of translating it as proof of the evils of religion, when it was stolen and found its way into the possession of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn by the founding of their first temple in 1887. The Golden Dawn was more suited to understanding the book, but the book disappeared again and became highly sought after by occultists the World over.

  Tia focused on finding who obtained it from the Golden Dawn, and was led to Aleister Crowley, and somehow from him to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, both reported to have been members of the Golden Dawn. After that the trail seemed to go cold, but then she got a name, Clarence “Kelly” Johnson. She then received images of Johnson with another man repeatedly. Images of them at Lockheed Skunkworks, and standing in front of a U-2 spy plane. That was all Tia got, but she was able to draw as picture of the other man.

  Having the rest of the afternoon to herself, Cassandra made her way over to the Library of Congress to research Clarence Johnson. She found quite a bit about him including a photograph of him in front of the U-2 with the mystery man. She made a copy of the photograph on her phone, and proceeded to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum to follow up on Johnson.

  When she arrived she had trouble finding anything on Johnson, but did find the U-2 that was on display. Standing there looking at it, wondering how to proceed, she didn’t notice the museum employee that walked up next to her. The older gentleman looked a bit like Raziel to her at first, but then she noticed differences. She must have thought it because he was on her mind so much.

  The man explained in great detail the U-2 from conception to completion, and answered her questions about Johnson, as though he had been there when it happened. His knowledge reminded her of Raziel as well, but she pushed those thoughts aside to listen to him. After a while she showed him the photo, and asked him about the other man. He said that he didn’t know much, but that the man was Caesar Chesney, known for his work at Skunkworks and supposedly Area 51. That was all she got

  Later that night, in meditation, with Frosty curled up in her lap, she went off to the Akashic Record. This time the Record appeared as a large film vault, like those in Hollywood. She approached Raziel who was in the process of inventory, not knowing how this would play out.

  “Miss Covert, what would you like to know now?” he asked.

  “I’d like to know about Caesar Chesney and his involvement at Area 51.” she answered.

  “Miss Covert, the NSA knows everything there is to know about him, what he worked on, where he is now, and you have the clearance to read all of it. You are here under false pretenses. I thought better of you.” he responded.

  “False pretenses didn’t bother you when you voluntarily showed me a whole other universe just like this one, played on a big screen just like any other movie. Did I need a reason to visit you then? We became friends, we are friends, so if I have done something to upset you, you can tell me.” she said. 

  “I am not sure exactly what you are referring to. I am an angel and you are a human, we are not friends. His Holiness the Dalai Lama has been coming here since before you were even though of, and I’m not friends with him either. If you perceived us as being friends, I am sorry to tell you that you are mistaken.” he responded.

  With that she was gone, and back in her apartment spent the rest of the night in tears, while Frosty curled up next to her in an effort to make her feel better. Undaunted she accessed the file on Caesar Chesney, and found everything on him with the exception of his current location. Projects he worked on, known associates, family, cars, driving record, past residences, and a stretch of land he purchased in Montana. It appears that he last had a driver’s license in Montana, so she focused on finding the land.

   That Friday afternoon she boarded a flight to Billings, Montana and drove her rental car 59 miles southeast until her GPS helped her pinpoint the coordinates. She pulled off onto a dirt track that led her to a dilapidated cabin that looked like early settlers were the last owners. She got out and walked around the cabin. In the back between the cabin and the trees was an unofficial road leading back to the other 40 acres of the property, complete with fairly recent tire tracks.

  Unsure of whether it would amount to anything, whether it was hunting season, or if she would simply be shot for trespassing, she got back in her rental and proceeded on. Deeper in the trees she found a larger cabin, complete with lights on inside, an SUV parked in front of it, and smoke billowing up from the chimney.

  Caesar Chesney himself, now much older, came out to greet her. No shotgun or rifle as she expected, but there was plenty of fire and smoke coming from the cigar in his mouth. He descended the steps and approached the car.

  “How may I help you miss?” he asked.

  “I’m with the NSA, but here on personal business that I think only you can help me with.” She answered.

  “This ought to be interesting then. I seldom get NSA agents that are pretty, and honest. Come on in the house, it is more comfortable.” he said, his gruff voice diluted by his demeanor, making him seem more grandfatherly. 

  In the kitchen she got straight to the point as he prepared coffee. She asked directly about the book, and saw the puzzlement on his face, that she knew about it at all. He came over with the coffee, and sat down.

  “Young lady, I appreciate your honesty, your candor, and the intelligence you possess that enabled you to learn of the Supernatural, as well as trace it to me. I no longer am in possession of the book, and am not at liberty to say who has it now, but if you have any specific questions about the book, I just so happen to have memorized it years ago.” he told her.

  “I need to know why an angel that was friendly with a human would turn his back on them.” she said.

  “Now I just this minute appreciated your honesty. Would you care to try again?” he said.

  “OK, I’m in love with an angel, but know that he is forbidden to feel the same for me, and so I’m content with just being his friend, but now he has turned cold towards me. Deep inside, I know this is because he can’t love me, but he acts like we aren’t even friends. How dire is the penalty for an angel being with a mortal woman?” she asked.

  “Wow that certainly was a mouthful. I don’t think anyone has been in the dilemma that you’re in for millions of years.” Caesar answered.

  “You believe me?” she asked.

  “My dear, I have believed most everything you have said since you arrived. Why should I start to doubt you now? Of course I believe you; didn’t I own a mystical book that you came looking for? Now, to answer your question, did you ever read the bible?” he answered with a question of his own.

  “Yes, as a little girl I was active in church.” she answered.

  “Do you remember in Genesis, how it talks of the Sons of God and the Daughters of Man?” he asked.

  “Vaguely.” she replied.

  “Genesis 6: 2-3, That the sons of God saw the daughters of man that they were fair, and they took them wives of all which they chose.  And the Lord said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall a hundred and twenty years.” he paused. “What is not common to our knowledge is that that these angels, like those that rebelled with Lucifer, broke God’s law and were sent to Hell as well. And only one of them shall be forgiven.”

  “Which one?” she asked.

  “Jerahmeel. His name literally means “he shall receive the forgiveness of God.” he answered.

  “And he’s in Hell too?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. But there is a person you might ask. I’ll write down what I have on him.” he offered.

  They talked more about related items over dinner, as the old recluse seemed to need company on occasions. After dinner she went back to Billings, spent the night in a hotel, and woke in the morning to catch a flight home. Upon arrival, she got in her Chevy Traverse and headed north to Newark, Delaware. With a little help from her remote viewing abilities she found me. This is how it went.

  “Hello, are you Scott Rinehart?” she started.

  “That depends on who is asking. If you have a check from Publisher’s Clearing House, I’ll be him.” I answered.

  “Funny. I’m with the NSA.” she responded, flashing her ID.

  “Since when is it against the law to disagree with our government?” I asked.

  “It’s not, and you’re not in any trouble.” she answered.

  “I’m not, are you sure you have the right Scott Rinehart?” I asked.

  “I’m here to ask you about an angel named Jerahmeel. I have been told that you might know some details about him that I need to know.” she answered,

  “Lady, I’m not an expert on anything, least of all angels. You should Google him, I’m sure Wikipedia might have an article on him.” I answered.

  “I did that already, and you seem to have written more about him than anyone else.” she replied.

  “Listen miss, I’m a science fiction writer, emphasis on fiction. The things I write are meant to entertain, not be taken as fact.” I answered.

  “Covert, Agent Cassandra Covert is my name. Thanks anyway.” she responded as though she had just hit a wall.

  “Cassandra, you’re real?” I said, stopping her in her tracks.

  “I hope so, why do you ask?” she asked.

  “Believe it or not, I write about you too. My stories are really interpretations of dreams I’ve had, and you’re a character in them as well.” I answered.

  “You’re telling me that you dream of me, and write about me?” she said.

  “You know, it sounds so much creepier the way you put it. But the answer is yes, I’m given dreams which I turn into stories, and you are in them. So how impressive is the Akashic Record anyway?” I asked.

  “You know about that? Do you know about Raziel, and how I feel as well?” she asked.

  “I do, and I wish that I had creative control over your lives, so I could write you a happier existence, but I don’t. Hey, why don’t you come in?” I offered.

  She accepted, and we talked about Jerahmeel. I explained to her how he was a member of the Grigori, which she somehow knew about. Jerahmeel was the first Son of God to take a wife from the Daughters of Man, prompting God to make a law forbidding it. At the time, since there had been no law applying to it, God did not punish Jerahmeel. But when others followed in his footsteps, he was punished as well for having set the example.

  God had foreseen that Jerahmeel would one day need his forgiveness, but had chosen not to see why. He still planned on forgiving Jerahmeel, but in the meantime was happy to let Jerahmeel earn his forgiveness. Jerahmeel has been working towards that ever since, and now works at it as a private investigator in Philadelphia. I gave her his card with his assumed name Jeremiah Stone on it. She left intent on seeking his help.

  Cassandra drove up to Philly to visit the office of Jeremiah Stone in the Stetson Building on Sansom Street. He wasn’t in, but an employee at Raw Sushi & Sake Lounge downstairs told her over her lunch that Stone was working in Delaware, investigating some strange creature in Churchman’s Marsh. At least it was on her way home. Using her remote abilities helped a bit more, enabling her to find Stone a bit quicker.

  Stone had been investigating something the police in Delaware wouldn’t touch, and he didn’t blame them as they would have been ill equipped to deal with. John D. Boyd had been fishing on Churchman’s Marsh, and had been sucked dry of blood, like by a vampire but with marks that looked like those from a leech. If it were a leech though, it would have had to be about 3 feet from head to tail at least.

  When she found Stone he was knee deep in mud, with his shirt nearly ripped from his torso, and wrestling a now five foot giant leech. She pulled her 9mm that she had yet to ever use, but couldn’t get a clear shot. Suddenly Stone seemed to grow more muscular, and ripped the leech apart, blood pouring out into the water. He dropped the creature in the water, let it drift away, and walked back to shore, returning to normal along the way.

  “Now what did you think you were going to do with that. About the best you could hope for was to agitate it even more. Do you even know where its heart or brain is?” Stone asked, stepping ashore.

  “No, I don’t.” she answered.

  “Good, neither do I. Who are you, and what do you want?” he asked.

  “I’m Cassandra Covert with the NSA.” she started.

  “And suddenly giant leeches are a matter of national security?” he replied.

  “No, I’m here on another matter. I’m here because I’m concerned about one of your brothers, Raziel.” she answered.

  “Then allow me to stop you right there, sweetheart. Angels and humans don’t mix. We get in trouble for being too involved with humans, while humans don’t, trust me I know. You know too, because if you about Raziel and about me, you know our stories. Humans aren’t generally concerned for us, which indicates that you feel something for him. Walk away, its best for both of you.” he said.

  “Is it just supposed to be that simple, humans and angels having nothing to do with each other. Yes I love him, and no I don’t want to be the cause of him going through what you are, or worse. But I have already resigned myself to just being his friend, why do I have to lose that too?” she asked, crying.

  “Why is about what you want? Have you considered what he wants? What God wants? You sound pretty selfish right now. It sounds to me like he allowed you to get way too close. He should have known better, he knows human girls find us irresistible. So what exactly is that has you concerned?” he asked.

  “He acts like he doesn’t even know me. He’s cold, logical, and damned near robotic when I’m around now.” Cassandra told him.

  “It could be worse, some the host you refer to as guardian angels have been known to castrate themselves in order to not be tempted by their concern for their human charges. That is why some people believe angels to be sexless. Silly notion really, if we were sexless we would never have been able to sin against God with the human women, wouldn’t be seen in male of or female forms, or have male and female names. Where do you humans think the Cherubim come from, the stork? Man always impresses himself with knowledge he doesn’t actually possess.” he told her as he started walking back to his car.

  “Do you think he castrated himself, and that is what is causing his indifference towards me? That’s horrible.” she said.

  “Raziel? No, but he must have done something. You want to find out; I know who might know, since he spoke to him recently. But once you do find out, once your curiosity is appeased, will you just walk away for both of your sakes?” he asked.

  “Yes.” she whispered, feeling helpless.

  “Father Ignatius may be able to help you. The last I heard Father Iggy was heading to Rome to handle something at the Vatican. Remember, you find out then walk away.” Stone warned.

  Cassandra went home. She spent all day Sunday in tears. Was Jeremiah Stone right, should she just walk away? As a little girl she had always believed in true love, and dreamt of finding it. With Raziel she had, at least in her heart. It was one thing to know that he couldn’t love her, but it was devastating to learn that he would now have nothing to do with her. Frosty did his best to make his human feel better, but it didn’t seem to be working.

  Cassandra was far from finished fighting though, and Monday morning called the Vatican asking for Father Ignatius. She was directed to the Monsignor that oversaw Father Iggy’s activities. He inquired as to the nature of why the NSA would need Iggy, and when he found out it was a personal matter, he was even less helpful. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her about Father Ignatius and his position as an exorcist, or that he had just left the Vatican a week ago, after ridding them of a menacing ghost of a Swiss Guardsman. He wouldn’t even tell her where she could find him now.

  Using her remote viewing abilities she searched for him herself. She briefly entered the Akashic Record out of habit, thinking to ask Raziel, but left in a hurry, knowing he would be of no help.  She managed to locate him close by her in D.C., in a forested area outside of Bel Air, Maryland. She left work and headed straight there. Eventually she had to park her car and walk the rest of the way. Finally, she arrived at the small shack with a well outside, and heard what sounded like Latin and something that sounded like a lion roaring.

  Without warning, the body of the priest was thrown through the wall of the shack, landing by the well. She thought that he would be dead after that, but the dark haired priest kept right on with his ritual, not letting up on the beastly thing that was trying to kill him. The thing roared like a lion again and stepped out through the hole in the wall. Cassandra aimed her pistol, but lowered it when she saw a small decayed body of a girl in turn of the century period Appalachia style clothing. Although it used to be a child, it was something undead and evil now. Cassandra aimed and fired, the bullet pushing the girl’s head slightly to the side, bone fragments flying out the other side. 

  “Wait your turn cow, we’ll get to you.” the demon child said.

  The child from Hell walked over to Father Iggy, picked him up like a doll, and hurled him into some bushes. There beneath the growth of the bushes was the upturned blade of a plow that Iggy found himself impaled upon. Despite this mortal injury, he continued his ritual, pouring it on with desperate intensity. The demon child suddenly went from being in control to angry to being in pain, just because of the exorcist’s words. The skin suddenly began to flake off of the child, followed by body parts. At the final scream, Cassandra could swear that she saw a black mist leave the body, and depart down the well.

  She ran over to Father Ignatius, who requested that she pull him from the plow which she did, causing his body to fall to the ground. His last word as he died was “Stay”, which she did. She called 911, but had no signal, so stay she did. The priest she sought was dead, her last hope was gone, and she couldn’t get any rescue units to come out for his body.

  She sat there on the edge of the well, staring at the lifeless priest for hours. The Sun would be setting soon, and she didn’t know what to do. What to do for the poor dead priest, or his body, or her own problem, or for Raziel. She had no answers.

  Father Iggy coughed up blood. How could a dead man be coughing? Why would he be coughing? Did the demon move into his corpse? She drew her pistol again. He hacked violently, sitting up in the process, and leaned over to vomit blood. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

  “You don’t need that child. I will be alright in a moment, and then I’ll explain.” he said.

  Minutes later he was getting up off of the ground, and brushing himself off as best he could with the exception of the big bloody holes in his clothes. Cassandra had put the gun away, but was still unsure what was going on. In her mind, she told herself that this was not weird. She had just met a demon that killed a giant leech, and she loved an angel, how weird was an exorcist that just died and came back?

  Iggy introduced himself, and explained that besides being an exorcist, he was also a sin eater, and that eating other people’s sins, he was cursed to carry the sum of the years they would have left to the in which they could have made amends. After he explained these things, he asked her just why she was there. She told him her name, and explained her story, and he knew all that needed to.

   “Child, it is not meant to be.” Father Ignatius told her. “It is forbidden for him to consummate a relationship with you.”

  “I am just trying to keep him as a friend. I don’t want to see him in Hell. Is there any rule that says that I can’t be his friend, or that I can’t love him without him loving me in return.” she asked.

  “No there isn’t, but what you don’t understand, and what I should not be telling you is that he loved you too. There, now I have violated the sanctity of confession. Cassandra, Raziel confessed to me his feelings for you, and I could not even pray on it for him without God knowing. From what you are telling me of his behavior, he went ahead with his desperate plan.” Father Iggy said, revealing more than he should, but in hopes that it would give her closure, and both of them peace.

  “What plan is that Father?” she asked.

  “He removed his feelings for you, along with the memories of how he came by those feelings, and being the Keeper of Secrets, has locked them away where even he won’t know where they are.” Iggy told her.

  “Well that answers that. There’s nothing else I can do.” she said, seeming to accept her final defeat.

  She helped him out of the forest and back to where his car was. Along the way he told her more about himself, and his adventures, a bit more of Jeremiah Stone, and that there were all sorts of people fighting the forces of evil from within the shadows. It had been an interesting couple of days.

  But it wasn’t over just yet. Hearing E.T. by Katy Perry in her car on the way home just made her think of her own otherworldly love. She pulled over into the parking lot of a mall. Within seconds she was in the Record, face to face with Raziel.

  “Business or personal Miss Covert?” he asked, seeming weary of the continued visits now.

  “Personal. I’m here to fix this, this mess between you and me.” She said, wanting to scream. 

  “I’m not sure I….” he began.

  “Where is it? Where did you hide your memories of your friendship with me?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he responded.

  “Because you don’t remember. Think Raziel, you know everything under Earth’s Sun and others, but you don’t know what I’m talking about. If you hid your memories that would cause that wouldn’t it? So if you were you, where would you have hidden them?” she argued.

   “There could only be one place, but I assure I don’t think that I did such a thing.” he stated, and departed with her in tow to his office, where he opened the vault before her.

  “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.” he said.

  “Stop me when I touch something you don’t recognize.” she said, and began touching things in the safe.

  Slowly her hand passed over objects on the shelves as she walked from one to another. The lost episodes of Doctor Who and The Avengers that were once lost to the BBC stacked reel by reel, made up part of his personal collection of things. Dinosaur eggs, a picture of Frank Sinatra signed “Raziel, Same Old Saturday Night, Frank”, scrolls from the Library of Alexandria, and the arms of Venus Di Milo all adorned the shelves.

  A dodo bird ran from its hiding spot on a lower shelf to the corner of the room behind the actual Ark of the Covenant. Her hand gently slid over the bag of money stolen by D.B. Cooper and the Holy Grail, but it wasn’t until her hand rested upon a small crystal vial that his expression changed to one of bewilderment.

  “I haven’t any recollection of that item.” Raziel said.

  “So this might be it then?” Cassandra said.

  “I really don’t know.” he said, puzzled.

  “But if it were Pandora’s Box or something truly dangerous, you would know. So why don’t we open it and find out?” she said.

  “If I hid my memories of “our friendship” here, then I hid them for a reason. I would not do such a thing lightly.” he responded.

  “I know you have wings, but never thought you were a chicken. Why are you afraid to open this and find out? Are you a coward?” she taunted.

  “Careful human, you tread now where even angels fear to. There would be nothing in this vial I fear. Only perhaps something I chose to forget.” he answered, taking the vial from her.

  “I’m just a human, and surely you know my history, what do you think there is about me that you would want to forget?” Cassandra asked, thinking of herself right now as that tiny cartoon devil on the shoulder, and not feeling proud of this deception.

  “I must find out. Why would I wish to forget you? Clearly there are even gaps in what knowledge I have of you.” he said, breaking the seal on the lid, and removing the top.

  The instant the lid was removed the feelings were free, and raced home, pouring into the very heart of the angel, overwhelming him. Raziel dropped to his knees before Cassandra, and she feared that maybe that was the wrong vial. As his heart filled once again, so did the memories fill his mind, including the memories of what he had done to forget, and how cold he had treated her. And with that, the angel Raziel wept.

  “I am truly sorry Michelle. I know that I have hurt you, which was not my true intention. I have a great disservice to us both, and yet the decision I must now make will do no better. I must choose now to either intentionally hurt you by pushing you away, or hurt you by giving in to my feelings for you and then facing my punishment in Hell.” Raziel said, not even daring to look at her.

   “I don’t want you to do either. I damned sure don’t want to be the reason for you to join the Fallen. Just be my friend, and then we’ll still have each other without giving in to our temptations. That’s all we have to do.” she said, crouching down to look into his eyes.

  “That will not work. I have a desire for you Michelle, one that over time will not be denied.” he said, the pupils of his eyes swirling like the center of a tornado. “I’m afraid this is goodbye. You are as of now denied access to the Akashic Record.”

  Before she could speak in protest, she found herself flung back into her body. She came out of her meditation with such a start that Frosty ran to the laundry room in fear. She attempted to go back, but there was nothing. She tried finding her best friend from college, but nothing. Even her ability as a remote viewer was gone. She had lost her love, her friend, her access to him, her ability, and possibly even her career in one move.

  That night, unable to sleep, she cried uncontrollably for hours with Frosty perched upon a pillow watching her. And while she cried she prayed, something she had not done much of in years, but thinking that if Raziel existed, then too must God.

  “God, it’s so unfair. He can remove his feelings and memories of me and put them in a jar, but I’m stuck with mine. Can you please help me forget or not feel what I feel anymore? It’s your fault after all. You allowed us to meet, you allowed us to fall for each other, but made it impossible for him to love me. Why did you let me fall for an angel, God? It’s so unfair. Please stop my suffering, and don’t let him suffer either.” she prayed, before exhaustion caused her to sleep.                               


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