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hand. The nails were manicured but the palms had old calluses. This guy looks like he stepped out of magazine cover and wouldn’t know the first thing about working with tools. Those calluses made him hesitate a moment before forming any first impressions.
    He stuck out his hand and shook the other. The grip was strong without being all macho about it. The man looked him in the eye.
    “Michael what?” Landon asked.
    “Just Michael,” The man said with a smile. “Thank you, I was wondering when you would show up.”
    Landon felt lost and confused. He didn’t feel the threat or worry he should have been experiencing right then in those circumstances. He felt almost at peace.
    “Listen, we need to talk,” the man said as he threw an arm around Landon shoulder, bringing him in for a slight hug.
    A blinding white light exploded in Landon’s head and knowledge poured into him like a river flowing over a damn. He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear it of visions of winged angels and puffy clouds danced behind his eye lids.
    Everything settled and he knew.
    Michael, Arch Angel of God.
    Then for the first time in a rather adventurous life. Landon Marshal fainted like a southern belle on a hot day.
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Landon woke up knowing that everything about the previous night had been true. The sounds from a New York street bubbled up to his apartment. The distant siren and much closer car alarm reverberated through his head.
    It hadn’t been a dream. The guy really was Michael. Not just any angle, but an Arch Angel. One of the head guys.
    The knowledge was as sure as knowing the sun came up in the east and set in the west. His gut clenched and he had to swallow hard to stop from throwing up. He broke into a sweat and looked down at his shaking hands. It was like waking up with the worst hangover in his life.
    He rubbed his right eye and winced at the tender pain where the kid had clocked him then made his way to the living room.
    Expecting to find Michael asleep on the couch or even better, gone. He was disappointed to find him sitting at the kitchen table finishing off a big bowl of Cap’n Crunch with a glass of whiskey on the side, not a combination you see every day . To top it off, the man, correction, Angel. He looked like he’d stepped out of GQ Magazine, not a blond hair out of place. Still wearing the same suite and blue tie from last night, pressed and ready for action. This whole angel business appeared to have some advantages.
    Michael looked up, spoon in hand and said, “Have you tried these, they say they stay crunchy in milk, but they don’t really. Still they’re unbelievable,” His spoon dipped down to grab another bite.
    “Yeah unbelievable,” Landon said, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d hoped it had all been some type of weird dream, but no, the man/angel was sitting there eating the last of his breakfast cereal like a little kid on a Saturday morning.
    Making his way over to the coffee machine, he started brewing the first pot of the day. What was he going to do with this guy? Company his skin crawl plus he didn’t like sharing what few things he had. One of the many lessons he’d picked up from his first stint in what used to be called reform school.
    To top it off, the guy was an Angel; he’d proved it last night. Landon hadn’t been drunk, he’d seen it with his own eyes. The man was a true, sent from heaven Angel.
    “So, what are your plans?” Landon asked, pouring himself a cup of black coffee and letting out a sigh of contentment with that first rush of caffeine.
    “Plans?” Michael said, his eyebrows scrunching in thought. “Oh, you mean for the near future, I plan to defeat the evil darkness about to settle upon this world. But first do you have any hot dogs?”
    Landon ignored the question and straddled a seat at the kitchen table across from his visitor. He sipped his coffee, absorbed the life giving aroma of the coffee and looked at his guest over