To regain my fallen status, I found a man to possess and visited Mikal at the house of prostitution where she still worked. I told myself that this wasn't a relapse into being in love with her--though I knew the Abominations that ruled in hell would have trouble understanding why it had to be her that I went to see, why it had to be this sin that I committed.

Looking upon her was. In my non-fallen state, spellbinding. She was beyond lovely, beyond beautiful. She was every flower that had ever blossomed, she was bird song, she was rain to a land long in drought. Yes, she was a lowly prostitute, but there was so much more potential in her. Greatness, even. Suddenly, it bothered me what she did for money, though it had never done so before. Had she but tried, I sensed her artwork would be remembered for centuries.

We met in the street as she flashed her eyes at me. I came to her, music and light still swelling inside me, and took her hand. She led me around a corner and up a flight of stairs. Stepping into her room, I looked around. Nothing but dingy stone and dust. It was serviceable, but she should have had a palace.

"I love your makeup," I said.

"Thanks." She gave me a quizzical look.

Patrons didn't normally say things like that.

Part of me wondered if I'd really be able to do this deed without my corrupt nature, but when she took me in her arms--

When the angels sang together to create the First Melody in the days before the fall, it had been perfect. I hadn't been able to recall the First Melody since I'd joined with hell, but for now I could recall it clearly. Touching Mikal, I felt I could understand as well as remember it--being with her was like a return to that timeless time before it all began. It was as if I was Adam and she was Eve, and this wretched apartment were the most beautiful garden that had ever existed since the dawn of creation.

Her fingers swirled across my skin. In her touch, I felt the artistic potential--as I were clay and she were moulding me, recreating me.

Beauty can be painful. I'd not known that before.

As we made love, the First Melody started to fade. I tried to keep it in my mind. As I retraced the notes in my mind, I detected an echo of the pain, the loss, the tragedy of life--a fracture in the perfection that always was. I tried to pin down the notes that caused it, but it was woven all the way through.

Could it have been otherwise?

I'd demanded of Jesus that he take out the flaws, the pain and disease, that he use his divine power to unbreak the world. Instead, he'd forgiven me, made me able to recall that first song.

When Mikal and I finished, I counted out my coins.

As much as I adored Mikal, both before and after coming here this day, I now saw that her beauty was now--in part--veiled from me. No longer could I see the potential for greatness in her, though I felt it somehow. She was a garden enshrouded in fog, waiting for the sun to lift its cloak of gray.

I watched her dress. A sight that reminded me of winter in other parts of the world, the veiling of life brought about by the cold. I counted out a few extra coins, wishing it were my money, that what I gave her costed me something.

"Listen," I said. "My name is Darius."

She'd been dressing, rewrapping her body in the layers of colorful fabric she'd used to entice me, now she stopped. Her eyes flashed at me. There was pain there. That, at least, gratified me. Did she regret what Cassia had made her do? Did she feel guilt?

"I'm the same Darius that you killed--but not really. I'm not a man. I guess I'm what you call an unclean spirit. I know this doesn't make sense, but I love you."

I'd not planned to say those words. They'd leaped from me without my willing it. If this lovely creature could only see me for what I was and care about me, too, I'd gladly forsake both heaven and hell. It was a terrifying realization.

"What is this? I didn't kill anyone," her voice was high, she was backing away, still fumbling her clothing into place.

I stood. "No, it's fine. It's not your fault. I can't really be killed anyway."

I summoned a fraction of my demonic power, allowed my shadowy nature to become visible to her. Hopefully, it was enough that she could see the truth of my words, but not enough to terrify her.

Her eyes widened.

"Please," I said. Listen to me."

Instead, she turned and ran, knocking over a row of cups on the floor as she fled.

In seconds I was alone. What had I expected? Telling humans about what we were had never produced a different reaction. I was a fool to think she could reciprocate any part of what I felt for her.

My mind returned to the First Melody, but it was gone. All I could do was weep, both for her and the love that could never be between us and the gift Jesus had given me which I'd thrown away. When the body I inhabited had no more tears to shed, I departed from it.

I drifted past the synagogue, listening to the gentle murmur of prayers rising from it and tried to renew my pledge to avoid Mikal and the idea of love--but it didn't feel possible. It seemed I was truly fallen, both from heaven and hell. Where did I belong?

I went to the wilderness, to the places where serpents and scorpions dwelt and devoured their prey. I inhabited one rodent after another, leading it to its death at the hands of snakes, feeling the poison take the small fragile bodies I inhabited. It felt good in a way, like something I deserved, but there was no comradery among the vipers and their prey.

The truth was, there was nowhere that I belonged.