I meet a bunch of people over the next several days, most of whose names I fail to remember. Apparently, they're what's left of Sakariel's closest allies in this realm. 

Maybe it's the fact I know it was an ally of some sort that betrayed him, but I don't like any of them very much.

The feeling seems mutual. I catch more than a few whispered arguments about 'unclean souls,' and 'demonic pollution,' and by lunchtime on the third day, I've had enough.

"Damien, why are you making me meet these people?" I ask. "They clearly don't want to meet me."

"They do," Damien assures me. "Heavenly Keys are rare, and usually aeons pass between one occurrence and the next. To have found even a piece of one gives them hope."

"Well, don't let them get their hopes up too much, because I'm no hero or leader or whatever-the-fuck your dead angel was. I'm demon trash, and as soon as I get the opportunity, I'm out of here."

He doesn't say anything for a moment. When he goes on, it's with the patient air of a parent dealing with a cranky child. "We need their protection, Alex. We might have asylum here for now, but things change. The knowledge that you carry part of a Key will incline them to our favor."

"So you're using me?" I ask, and contemplate exactly how angry I should feel.

He sighs. "Let's go out. I know your vision hasn't completely returned, but the fresh air will do us both good."

I consider being difficult for the hell of it but then decide that a walk actually sounds nice.

We wander the city streets, and while I can't see clearly, my vision has improved enough that the world looks kind of like an Impressionist painting. I can see colors, shapes, shades of dark and light. The sounds and smells are interesting in their own right, and I make Damien stop and describe stuff to me almost constantly.

I gather that the city is a strange mix of ancient and modern. There are something like electric lights, but everyone goes about either on foot or by the boats in the canals. The economy is based on a form of credit calculated according to a person's station, and the shops range from street vendors to what amount to high-end boutiques.

Damien buys me some sort of pastry with the credit Allannan gave him, and I nibble at it as we walk back across one of the great bridges spanning a wide canal.

We're about halfway across when Damien stops short.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I thought I saw...someone I know," he says, sounding odd. "Alex, wait here. I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey! Don't just"--he's already gone--"leave me here," I finish with a sigh.

The bridge has a low stone railing along its edge, and I sit on it while I wait, wondering if I could find my way back on my own if Damien forgets me here. I watch the indistinct shapes of people passing back and forth, and listen to the persistent background noises of the city's life. 

I used to do something similar whenever I felt lonely or hopeless. I'd go to a park or other public place, and just sit, and let the world keep turning around me. I found a sort of cold comfort in the knowledge of my own insignificance. No one noticed me. I could disappear, cease to exist, and everything would be fine. People would still laugh and love, and eat ice-cream. Dogs would still chase balls; kids would still run and play. It was always a relief to know that keeping any of it going was not my responsibility. 

I finish my pastry, and I'm just starting to get bored when a voice speaks close beside me.

"Abomination!" it hisses.

"Excuse me?" I haven't heard that one since the last time I strayed too close to the wrong group of protesters.

The voice is unfamiliar and sounds light enough to be female, but I can't quite tell.

"Only a pure soul can bear a Key!" it says, sounding closer still.

"Hey, what the hell are you--"

I feel a hand on my chest and realize what's happening about three seconds too late.

A push, and I fall.

~xxx~

I hit the water shoulders first and sink fast. A surprisingly strong current tumbles me over, and I quickly lose any sense of up and down.

The impact with the water knocked most of the breath from me, and my lungs are already burning for air. Panic will only make them burn faster, so I pick a direction and swim.

Panic sets in anyway when I don't find the surface. Either the water isn't very clear, or I'm in a shadowy spot, because there's no light to guide me towards 'up.'

The last of my breath leaves me in a swarm of bubbles, and I can just make out which direction they rise. I follow them, but I must be deeper than I thought. 

My strength ebbs. I can't stop the impulse to breathe, and water fills my lungs as I start to drown.

I thrash like a dying thing--which, part of my brain points out, is what I am--and wonder if someone will find my body soon enough for me to repossess it, or if I'll be left to wander this realm as a shadow forever.

Then something catches me around the chest, and I'm pulled rapidly to the surface. I can't breathe past the water in my lungs though, and slide towards darkness as I'm pulled to shore.

Someone pounds hard on my back, and I choke and gasp my way back from the edge of night, and finally, my lungs are clear. 

As oxygen floods my blood again, sound returns and I hear Damien shouting at me.

"Alex! Alex, are you alright? What the hell happened?"

"Someone...pushed me," I say between coughs.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yes...I'm fucking...sure."

It seems like my misadventure has drawn a lot of attention, and I hear gasps and exclamations from the gathered crowd. Someone drapes a blanket over my shoulders, and someone else offers to ferry us home in their boat. Damien declines and helps me up.

"We're almost back to Allannan's anyway," he tells me.

We're both dripping wet, and pretty soon I'm shivering with cold and the aftermath of adrenaline. Damien keeps his arm around me, and I lean against him so I don't fall.

When I'm able, I tell him what happened.

"Could you see enough to identify them?" he asks.

"No. And their voice was unfamiliar. Did you find your friend?"

"My what?"

"Whoever you thought you saw."

"Oh...No. I didn't" he says.

After a much longer walk than should qualify as 'almost back,' we reach the grounds of Allannan's estate. She's distraught by the news of my close call and promises to increase security just in case.

Damien stays close at my side for the rest of the day, until I finally have to tell him to fuck off and give me some space. He gives me about three feet.

That night I fall asleep at his side. He either doesn't sleep, or doesn't dream.

~xxx~

In the morning, I open my eyes and discover that I can see. My vision is crystal clear, and I'm so happy I shout.

Damien sits up quickly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I can see you!" I say.

His brows are drawn together over his dark eyes, lines of worry between them. He looks tired and pale. I study the details of his face, enjoying the sense of sight. When I get to his mouth, my enthusiasm overtakes my reason, and I kiss him.

It's just a quick peck on the lips to take him by surprise, and I mean it as a joke. 

He takes it as an invitation.

The next thing I know, he's kissing me like there's no tomorrow, his mouth hot, wet, and invading over mine.

My body responds, but alarm bells are ringing in my brain. Deliberately, I shut them off and kiss him back.

After a prolonged tongue battle, I fall back, breathless. As the victor, he explores his spoils, continuing to kiss me softly while his hands roam.

"This is...a mistake," I say, my brain making one last attempt to save me from myself.

"Tell me to stop."

My breath hitches as he slides his hand beneath the waist of my pants. "Don't stop."

He doesn't.

To say we make love would be to put too fine a point on it.

He fucks me into the mattress. He's rough and demanding, but also generous. It's nothing like what I experienced as Sakariel in that dream, and that at least makes me happy.

Because this is different. I'm different. Maybe there's no love in it, but there's need, and trust, and a give and take that keeps us on equal ground.

And afterward, when we're slick with sweat and spend and exhausted from exertion, I realize that--mistake or not--I don't regret it one bit.