Gabriel wagged his tail some more. “It was gum,” he said, as if that would make it all right.

“I don’t care,” Aaron said, picking up one of the wrapped sandwiches. “You could get sick.”

“But I like gum.”

Aaron squatted down in front of the dog and began to unwrap the burger. “Gum isn’t for dogs. No gum. Get it?”

The Lab ignored him, instead sticking his snout inside the sandwich wrapper to see what Aaron held. “Is this for me? Is this my lunch?”

“Yep, it is,” Aaron answered as he removed the meat from the bun. “You don’t need any bread, though.” He discarded the roll into one of the now empty bags.

“Hey, what are you doing that for?” Gabriel panicked. “That’s my lunch, you said. Why are you throwing it away?”

Aaron held out the hamburger. “Here, this is what you want. I just threw away the bread. It’ll make you fat.”

Gabriel couldn’t stop looking at the bag. “But I want the bread, too,” he whined pathetically.

Aaron sighed and shook his head. At first it had been fun being able to communicate with his best friend, but now he found it more and more like dealing with a small child. “Look, are you going to eat this or not?” he asked. “Usually you don’t even have lunch, so this should be treat.”

The dog reluctantly pried his gaze from the bag and gently snatched the burger from Aaron’s hand. He chewed once and then swallowed with a loud gulp.

Aaron patted the dog’s side. “That was pretty good, huh?”

Gabriel licked his lips and gazed into his master’s eyes. “Any more?”

“No,” Aaron said. “I bought one for me and one for you. That’s it.”

“Are you going to eat your bread?” Gabriel asked

“Yes, I’m going to eat my bread.”

“It will make you fat.”

“You’re too much, Gabriel.” Aaron laughed. He took a bottle of water and poured some into a paper cup. “Here’s some water to wash down your burger,” he said as he set the cup on the ground in front of the dog.

Gabriel began to lap at the cup, careful not to tip it over. “I’m still hungry,” he grumbled between laps.

“Sorry,” Aaron said, picking up his own burger and sitting down beside Camael. “Think of how good your supper will taste.”

The dog grunted and strolled off to sniff at an overgrown patch of grass near the edge of the parking lot.

Aaron watched him go. He hated to be mean, but if he allowed Gabriel to eat every time he said he was hungry, the dog would weight three hundred pounds. He couldn’t begin to count all the overweight Labs he’d seen while working at the veterinary clinic back in Lynn, Massachusetts. It was the Labrador retriever curse—they loved to eat.

He sighed as he picked up his burger and took a bite. It was good, cooked just the way he liked it, medium rare, with lettuce, tomato, and a little mayo. He chewed for a moment, swallowed, and turned to Camael, still sitting silently and staring off into space. “What exactly are you looking at?”

“I see a great deal,” the angel replied, his voice like a far-off rumble of thunder. “A father and son fishing by a stream, an old woman hanging laundry in her yard, a female fox teaching her litter how to hunt frogs.” He paused, tilting his head as if to examine something at another angle. “It is what I do not see that interests me.”

Aaron opened another bottle of water and took a sip. “Okay, what don’t you see?”

“As of now, I see no sign of pursuit.”

“And that’s a good thing—right?” Aaron took another bite of his burger and reached for a cardboard container of French fries. He dumped half on the wrapper with the remains of his burger and placed the container with the rest in front of Camael.

The action broke the angel’s steely stare, and he looked down on the container before him. “I told you, I do not need to eat,” he said with a hint of a scowl.

Aaron bit half of a large fry and chewed. “You don’t need to,” he said. “Doesn’t mean that you can’t. Try one.”

Camael slowly placed his hands on either side of the container. “As I was saying,” he said, studying the French fries as if they were new forms of life, “I have seen no trace of the Powers since leaving your city of Lynn, so it would appear that the magical wards I left to mask our passing have proven beneficial.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Aaron asked with surprise. He consumed the last bite of his burger. “I was a little worried by how slow we’ve been moving. I thought you were getting a little wrapped up in the whole sight-seeing thing.”

Camael removed a French fry from the container and glared at it. “I have been on this planet for thousands of years, boy. The urge to ‘sight-see’ was purged long ago.”

And then the angel did something that Aaron imagined he’d never see. Camael popped the French fry into his mouth and began to chew. He chewed for what seemed an insane amount of time and then swallowed. “Adequate,” he said, tilting the container toward him and reaching for another.

Aaron took a sip of his water and smacked his lips. “Do you think these wards will be enough?” he asked. “I mean, will it keep them off our backs until we can find where they’re keeping Stevie?”

The angel was eating fries like a pro, three and four at a time. For someone who doesn’t need to eat, he certainly seems to be enjoying himself, Aaron thought as he waited for an answer.

“The wards are merely a distraction. My magickal skills are nowhere near Verchiel’s and the Archons in his service—”

“Archons?” Aaron interrupted.

“Angels of the Powers who have mastered the complexities of angelic magick. They will see through our ruse sooner rather than later, but let us hope the wards will buy us enough time to find that to which you are being drawn.”

Aaron had felt the strange sensation since leaving Lynn behind. He still didn’t understand what it was—it seemed to be an urge, a need to travel north. Through New Hampshire, Vermont, and now Maine, he was being drawn inexorably northward. Even as he sat, finishing his lunch, he could feel it pulsing in his mind, urging him onward. “Do you think what I’m feeling will take us to Stevie?” he asked with hope.

Camael had finished the last of the fries, tipping over the container to be sure it was empty. “Your abilities are still young, Aaron. They are as much a mystery to me as they are to you.”

“But it’s possible, right?” he persisted. “Like maybe I’m somehow connected to Stevie—and I’m being drawn to him.”

The angel nodded slowly. “It is possible,” he said, his large hand stroking his silvery gray goatee. “But it may be that you are being pulled to something else—something of greater importance.”

“I don’t understand.” Aaron stared intently at the angel. “What could I be drawn to if not Stevie? What can be more important than him?”

The angel remained silent, continuing to stroke his bearded chin, seemingly lost within his own thoughts.

“Camael?” Aaron prompted, raising his voice slightly.

“It is a most elusive place,” Camael finally answered, his eyes glazed. Then he turned to Aaron and fixed him in an intense glare. “Aerie,” he whispered. “You could be taking us to Aerie.”

Faces flashed before Camael’s eyes; images of those he’d saved from the destructive wrath of the Powers throughout the innumerable centuries since he’d left the angelic Host. Where had they gone? It was a question he often asked himself. Some were eliminated later, the Powers eventually tracking them and succeeding in their malevolent goals. But there were others, others who had managed to find a very special place, a place that still eluded him.

“Aerie?” Aaron was asking. “Isn’t that a bird’s nest or something?”

“It is a place unlike any other on this world, Aaron, a special place—a secret place, where those who have fallen await their reunion with Heaven.” Camael folded his hands before him, remembering the times when he thought he had found it—only to be sadly disappointed.