Michael was waiting for the operator to link him to the hospital, and he saw Moloch looking at him with a grin.
Moloch was really a deceiving bastard. His plans were always so thought out, not that they work most of the time.
Michael was getting irritated by the stupid song playing over the receiver. How long does it take to put one through to the hospital?
"Good Afternoon, this is Saint Gavriel Hospital. How may I assist you?"
Michael almost dropped the receiver. He never paid attention to the name of the hospital. Fitting that Gabriel would name the hospital after himself. Saint of stupid.
"Good Afternoon, sweetheart. I am calling to find out if the woman who had been admitted yesterday is okay?"
The voice on the other side of the line paused. "Can you be more specific, sir?"
Michael heard Moloch laughing at his awkward demeanour over the phone. "The woman was in an accident. . .she was taken to your hospital. I was at the scene, and I wanted to bring her a get well gift."
Yes, Michael was there in the shadows, waiting for his chance to get to the woman first - alas, Lucian beat him to it.
Michael passed that building early in the morning. When he felt the surge in the atmosphere, he remembered grinning like a cat. Gadrial was close.
"Oh! Well, sir, she is not here anymore." Michael was brought back from his thoughts.
"Could you perhaps give me her name? I would love to see how she is doing?"
The voice paused again. "I am not allowed to give out any information on patients."
Michael sighed inwardly. "Please, sweetheart, I just want to know if she is okay?"
Michael kept his fingers crossed under the table; flattery usually worked on female mortals. Moloch was still laughing. He knew he wasn't good with words; he only knew how to use his fists.
"I can hear your sincerity, sir, so if you don't tell anyone..."
Michael clutched the receiver close to his ear. "Oh, I won't tell a soul. I promise you, darling."
Was that laying it on too thick? Michael heard a click, then some typing. "Her name is Christine Parkins."
Michael cringed mentally. What kind of name was that? He thought it would be something angelic. "I thank you for your help. You have yourself a nice afternoon, darling."
"Thank you, sir. I hope you can find her." The voice on the line sounded flushed.
Michael wrote her name down on the notepad which lay in front of him. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Michael put the receiver down, and he looked at Moloch. "We have a name - she is called Christine Parkins."
Moloch raised an eyebrow. "What kind of name is that?"
Michael shrugged. He didn't want to let Moloch see his reaction because he thought the same thing; it was a horrible name.
Moloch stood up, walked to the door, and paused. "Research her, Michael and then open a job for a secretary."
Michael rolled his eyes at Moloch. "Not that I need one, but I will."
Moloch left, closing the door behind him. Michael drowned in his own thoughts. If Moloch planned everything from the beginning - did he really hate Gadrial as everyone claimed?
Michael picked up the notebook staring at the name. . . If he had befriended Gadrial as he had done with Gabriel, would he have done things differently?
No, he wouldn't, he was still the ambitious right hand of the Creator bastard, and he would never let anyone forget it.
"Well, Christine Parkins, let us see what you are made off." Michael opened his computer, it was linked to the police catalogues, he typed 'Christine Parkins'.
Within seconds the file opened:
"Christine Parkins
Born: 1 November 1991"
Michael smiled. Only 28 years old and was born on the Feast of All Saint's day. . .interesting.
"Address: Building: Saint Agnes: Apartment 666, floor 13."
Michael rolled his eyes. Why did they call the building that? His eyes widened at his thought. It is for protection against people with evil intentions.
So, in other words, he wouldn't be able to set foot on the soil of that building.
Michael laughed. The building was like something out of a horrible vampire film; those ones where the owner should invite you in before one could enter. But she lives on floor 13 and apartment 66. . .wasn't she like superstitious?
"Classified."
Michael grinned at the word classified. "Now this will be interesting, so our wonder War Angel did something illegal. He clicked on the button to open the classified file.
A few screens popped up. Michael whistled.
"Rachel Romandez
Born: 1 November 1991
Changed her name to Christine Parkins to go into protective custody, her ex-boyfriend Markus Panell, sentenced for domestic violence and attempted murder got ten years."
Michael peered his eyes from the screen. So she is a broken soul, so out of curiosity. . .why wasn't she baptised? Moloch only told him the mortal soul wasn't baptised, so does that mean she didn't grow up in a religious family? Michael turned back to the screen.
"Markus Panell will be released in three weeks due to good behaviour. Mmm, so 1 year early?"
Michael smiled. This man could be plan b later, so the broken little soul had a 'small' history. Michael's smile turned into a grin. This was so convenient that she was in the system.
"Contact number: xxxxxxxx"
Michael wrote it down, convenient indeed, but how will he approach this? She probably already had a job. He thought long and hard, well I could make an advertisement, maybe I will get lucky that she would apply.
Michael opened another screen on his computer, and he started with the layout of his advertisement.
"Angels War Company
We are looking for a secretary for our CEO, no previous experience is needed.
Needs to be available any time of day to adhere to the workload.
We are willing to cover travelling expenses.
Preferable women between 25 and 30 years.
Please send your CVs to Michael Romanus email xxxxxxxx*
Michael read it through. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Moloch walked away from Michael's door and went to the elevator. The doors opened, he walked in and pressed in a code. The elevator began to rumble, it went up, and the doors opened into a penthouse.
Moloch walked to the windows that overlooked the city; he spread his arms wide and with that. . .his wings.
Moloch's wings, which were silver, were the biggest in the whole Kingdom of heaven due to the power he gained over the years. Yes, he did kill, and he learned how to absorb the essence of angels that die in heaven.
They couldn't go anywhere because they were already in the graces of their Creator. Moloch grinned. "Do you see now, Creator?!"
Silence greeted him.
"Of course, you don't. You died by your right hand, Michael - after I took him under my wing. I saw the ambition in him. I have planned for this my whole angelic existence."
Moloch's wings grew wider as he embraced the sun rays that slowly descended.
"You never saw it coming, Creator! I took on the name of a demon; since the dawn of time. I was your voice of reason, and you cast me aside, you who damned us when we have shown a little rebellion, but you - created humans! They were free, free to love, free to hate, and free to be ambitious and just be free of everything!"
Moloch inhaled a breath. "Yet, you don't punish those who defy your existence!"
Moloch opened the windows, his wings aching for freedom to fly; he hadn't soared in years, only on the battlefield.
Moloch stepped on the border of the window.
"My true name is Azazel! The true leader of the rebellion against the Creator! And all will fear me."
Moloch jumped from the window, and the wind greeted his wings. It was time to visit the fallen.