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Camael closed his eyes and willed the poison from his body. Shockingly, it did little good, and he foundthat he did not have the strength to open his eyes again. The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet, and hefell to the ground.

Through the darkness behind his eyes, he heard the sound of the old man's feet as he shuffled down thestairs toward him. Pulled deeper and deeper into the clutches of unconsciousness, Camael was consoledby the town ofBlithe .

"You were meant to be here,"it said, easing theangel on his way into oblivion.
 
"For without you, I

would die."

Aaron petted Gabriel as he watched Dr. McGovern shave away the fur on the dog's leg, then squirtsome saline solution into the wound. She dabbed at it with a cotton swab and leaned in to examine itmore closely.

"Mouths are filthy, so I just assume that all bites are infected," she said, squirting more saline into the wound. "This one is particularly nasty, though—especially for a raccoon bite." She looked up to catch Aaron's eye.

"I said I thought it was a raccoon," he responded, flustered. No way was he going to explain that Gabriel had been bitten by a nasty little creature created by fallen angels. "I didn't get that good of a look at it—I guess it could have been just about anything."

"It was an Orisha, Aaron,"Gabriel grumbled.

"I know, I know," Aaron said reassuringly.

"He's pretty vocal, isn't he?" The vet threw the soiled cotton swabs into a barrel, then rubbed Gabriel's

head affectionately.

"You don't know the half of it," Aaron replied with a sly smile and a chuckle. "Say, is he going to need a

rabies booster?"

"A shot?"Gabriel grunted, lifting his head from the table.

"When did he get his last vaccination?" Dr. McGovern asked.

"I just got a shot,"the Lab whined.

"About six months ago," Aaron said, ignoring his best friend.

"Yeah, why don't we do a booster, then. Better to be safe than sorry," she said, pulling a syringe from a

drawer and getting a vial of vaccine from a tiny fridge beneath the counter.

"Better no shot than sorry,"Gabriel growled.

"He doesn't sound too happy," the vet said, filling the needle.

"He's not, but he doesn't have a choice. He has to get a shot or else
he'll get sick."
 
Aaron emphasized

the last of the sentence specifically to the dog.

"Do you think he understands you?"

"I know he does," Aaron answered, rubbing the thick fur around Gabriel's neck. "This guy is pretty

special."

"Aren't they all," she said, and with one quick move, administered the injection with not so much as a yelp from the dog. "See," she cooed, leaning into Gabriel's face and rubbing his ears. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"She smells good, Aaron,"the dog woofed, his large, muscular tail thumping happily on the metal table.

Aaron laughed. "Don't worry, Gabriel doesn't hold many grudges. Give 'im some affection and a cookieand he'll forget all about the trauma."

The doctor disposed of the syringe in a red plastic container on the counter. "All right," shesaid, lookingover her notes. "Let's see, keep the wound uncovered so it can dry out and ..."

"Warm compresses three times a day and two weeks of amoxicillin twice daily to kill the infection,"

Aaron continued as he watched Gabriel sit up carefully on the table.

Dr. McGovern smiled, setting her pen down. "Pretty good." She nodded. "Do we have an interest in theveterinary sciences?"

"I used to work in a vet's office," Aaron explained, the recollection of the life he had left behind washing

over him in a wave of melancholy. He quickly turned back to Gabriel. "Do you want to get down?"

"Let me help you," the vet said, and together they lowered Gabriel to the floor.

"You know," she said, "I'm only here temporarily—but 1 could use a hand around the office. I can't pay

great money, but I could pay you something, and I could look after Gabriel's bite—what do you say?"

It certainly was a tempting offer. There was something about this little town that had really gotten into Aaron's system. It seemed to be saying that
this
 
was the place where he wanted to be. The fact that hecould earn some money to bolster his dwindling savings account wasn't a bad idea either. "Shouldn't youcheck with Dr. Wessell first?" he asked.

Dr. McGovern nodded slowly. "I imagine so, but since my former fiance is nowhere to befound, I'd saythat gives me leeway to bend the rules a bit. You interested?"

"Let's stay, Aaron,"Gabriel whined.
"I'm tired of the car."

"I'd have to check with my traveling companion," Aaron said with a shrug. "But sure, if it's okay with

him, I'd love to hang around for a couple days."

"Great," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Katie, and I know this is Gabriel, but it might be nice to know

your name, too, especially if we'll be working together."

"Sorry." He took her hand in his and gave it a shake. "Aaron," he said. "Aaron Corbet."

"Great to meet you, Aaron." She released his hand. "Why don't you go check with your friend and let

me know what you'll be doing."

Aaron and Gabriel stepped from the building into the warm, spring afternoon and headed for the car.

Gabriel was able to walk on his own with a minimum of discomfort, thanks to Katie's ministrations.

"Where's Camael?"Gabriel asked as Aaron opened the door and helped him into the backseat. He immediately lay down to check out the wound on his leg, sniffing and licking at the antiseptic goo that covered it.

"I don't know," Aaron answered. "And leave your leg alone," he added, looking around for signs of the

angel.

Since the battle at his home, he and the former Powers' commander had formed a strange kind of bond. Aaron was always aware of the angel's presence, and although he could feel something unusual about Blithe, right now he felt no sense at all of Camael. That alone was troubling.
Looks like we will bestaying a while,
 
he thought.

At that moment, Katie came outside to get supplies from the back of her truck.

"Stay here a minute," Aaron told Gabriel, jogging over to the vet, who was trying to balance three large

boxes in her arms and close the back of her SUV.

"Katie, looks like I'll be taking you up on your offer," he said as she peeked out from behind the

teetering boxes.

"Great," she replied. "And your first assignment?"

Aaron snapped to attention. "Sure, what's that?"

"Give your boss a hand with these boxes," she said. "Damn things are heavy."

chapter five

"Where do you think he went?"Gabriel asked from the backseat as Aaron continued his patrol of Blithe.

"I have no idea," he said, scanning the streets for signs of the wayward Camael. "Maybe he found

another Nephilim he likes better and skipped town."

"Do you think he would do that?"Gabriel asked, aghast.

"I'm just kidding." Aaron chuckled as he eyed a coffee shop.

An elderly couple came out of the shop, and Aaron tried to see inside as the door slowlyclosed—but noluck.
Besides, why would he be in a cof
fee shop—
he doesn't even have to eat,
Aaron thought as  hebrought his car to a stop at a crosswalk, allowing an older woman with a shopping cart to cross.
But
thenagain, they might have had French fries.

In the rearview mirror he watched theLabrador tilt his head back and sniff the air.
 
"Do you want me toget out and see if I can find him?"
 
Gabriel asked.
 
"I might he able to pick up his scent. He doessmell kind of funny, you know."

"No, that's all right, Gabe," Aaron replied. "He'll turn up. Why don't we just find someplace to stay that'll

take pets."

"I'm much more than a pet,"the dog said with pride.

"So you've told me," Aaron responded, taking a left ontoBerkely Street . "Katie said there's a place that

rents rooms down here."

At the end of the dead-end street stood a large, white house surrounded by a jungle of colorfulwildflowers. A woodenrooms for rent  sign moved in the breeze.

"There it is," he said, pulling to the curb in front of the house and turning off the engine. "You stay here.

I'll go find out how much they charge and if they allow pets."

"You tell them 1 am not just a pet,Gabriel called through the open window as Aaron headed up the walk

beneath a wooden arch bedecked with snaking purple flowers.

"Can I help you?" asked an aged voice from somewhere amongst the lush vegetation.

"Yeah," he responded, startled, not sure where to direct his answer. "I'm looking for a room."

An old woman emerged from behind a thick forsythia bush, sharp-looking pruning sheers inher hand. She glared at him through thick, dark-framed sunglasses that made her look like one of the X-Men, andwiped some sweat from her brow with a glove-covered hand. "I have a few—ain't that a coincidence."

Aaron laughed nervously. "Cool," he said with what he hoped was a charming smile.

"You alone, or with somebody?" She craned her neck to get a look at the car parked on the street.

"Thought I heard you talkin' to somebody."

"I was talking to my dog," he said, studying her face for a response.

The woman scowled. "You got a dog?"

Aaron nodded slowly.

"You want me to rent you a room—with a dog?" she asked incredulously.

He sighed. "Sorry to have wasted your time," he said with a polite wave as he hastily turned and headedback toward the car.

He was just beneath the flowered archway when he heard the woman's voice very close behind him.

"What kind of dog is it?"

"He's a yellow labrador," Aaron answered, not quite sure what difference it made.

"Yellow?" she repeated, eyeing his vehicle.

Aaron nodded. "Yellow Lab, yes."

She followed him as he continued to the car. "My father used to raise Labs," she said as she pulled offher work gloves and stuck them in the back pockets of her worn blue jeans. "Sometimes I have a softspot for them."

Aaron opened the back door of the car, exposing Gabriel. "Hey Gabe," he said, "somebody wants tomeet you."

The old woman kept her distance, but crouched to peer into the car. Gabriel panted happily and waggedhis tail against the back of the seat. It sounded like a drumbeat.

"What did you call him?" she asked, removing her funky shades, giving him a lessor version of the scowl

from the yard.

"Gabriel."

"That's a good name." She stared into the car. "What happened to his leg?" she asked, pointing at the

nasty wound.

"Oh, he got bit by a—a possum, I think," Aaron said. "That's one of reasons why we're looking for a

place to stay. The leg needs to heal a bit before we move on."

"That ain't no possum bite," the old woman said with a shake of her head. She leaned into the car and let

Gabriel sniff her bony, callused hands. "What bit you, boy?" she asked, petting his head.

"I think it was called an Orisha,"Gabrielwoofed.

"Would you look at that," she said with a genuine smile. "You'd think he was trying to answer me."

"He's very talkative," Aaron said, giving Gabriel a thumbs-up behind the woman's back.

"He housebroke?" she asked, still rubbingthe dog's velvety soft ears and stroking the side of his face.

"Of course he is," Aaron answered, holding his indignation in check. "And he doesn't bark or chew.

Gabriel's just an all-around good dog."

She emerged from the car and gave Aaron the once over. "Well, you don't look like a Rockefeller, soit'll be a hundred dollars a week, with meals—but you have to eat with me. This ain't no restaurant."

"That's great," he answered cheerily. "It'll be nice to have something other than fast food for a change."

The old woman studied him for a minute, then turned and began to walk up the path into her yard. "Don't go thanking me yet," she said, placing her sunglasses back on her face and removing the workgloves from her pockets. "Never told you if I was a good cook or not."

She stopped suddenly and turned back to him. "Since you're gonna be living underneath my roof for abit, you might as well tell me your name."

"It's Aaron," he said with a smile. "Aaron Corbet."

"Aaron," she said a few times, committing it to memory. "I'm Mrs. Provost—used to be Orville, but after my husband died in seventy-two, I figured I'd go back to my maiden name. Never cared for much he gave me, especially the name."