"Shit," Grigori Bastien said to himself. The bullet fired by the bank robber thudded into his forehead and he fell to the floor, dead. Or so it seemed. The other people gathered at the All Saints Mall branch of the Bank of Canada gasped in shock. The City of Ottawa, Ontario, is usually quite bland and boring. Some even call it the town that fun forgot. Grigori just happened to catch an Uber to his favorite mall on what seemed like a mundane evening and regretted it. Shit happens in this life, folks. The big and tall, dark-skinned and well-dressed, thirty-something lay on the floor, bleeding profusely.
The bank robbers were later captured by the local police, and witnesses were interviewed by the investigators while media and curious parties gawked on. Paramedics put a white sheet over Grigori Bastien's body and drove him to the medical examiner's office. The East End of Ottawa is usually full of the wrong kind of excitement. Grigori has been living in the area for a decade, and thought of it as quaint. Of course, sometimes the shit hits the fan and everyone gets caught in the crossfire. Grigori was taken to the medical examiner but mysteriously vanished. What happened to the poor fellow's corpse?
"That's what you get for banking in person instead of online," came a rather cheerful voice. Grigori sat up on the bed, and instinctively touched his forehead. The wound was gone, and there was no scar that he could feel. Sighing, Grigori scanned his surroundings. A tall, dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks stood a short distance away. Decked out in a black leather jacket, red turtleneck shirt, blue jeans and boots, the woman looked beautiful. Grigori smiled wanly as he recognized the fallen angel Selaphiel.
"Hello, Sela," Grigori said, and Selaphiel smiled then drew closer. She handed a bottle of Merlot to Grigori, who took a good swig from it. The two fallen angels exchanged a look. Grigori and Selaphiel have known each other for a while. Once upon a time, they were among the renegade angels who defied Heaven and sided with Lucifer Morningstar. Most of the rebel angels were rounded up and sent to Hell by the thousands. A few rebel angels managed to hide on Earth among the humans. That was eons ago...
"If I hadn't been working that shift you'd be in a lot of shit," said Selaphiel. Grigori nodded with gratitude. Fallen angels have to get jobs to pay the bills just like everyone else. Selaphiel chose to be an EMT, and she had her degree from local EMT factory Algonquin College and everything. Grigori chose to be an IT professional, working as a tech support or call center agent for various companies from the comfort of his home. Yeah, fallen angels are just regular guys and gals with jobs...most of the time.
"I owe you," Grigori said, and he took a look around Selaphiel's place. They were in the affluent suburb of Barrhaven, in the west end of Ottawa. Barrhaven was like a different planet compared to the loud, overcrowded, ghetto spot known as the East End of Ottawa. Grigori chose his Overbrook apartment because it was affordable, and the place was alright. Grigori doesn't mind gang bangers, drug dealers or prostitutes. The fallen angel had been around since Sin was first invented. Today's mortals, with their fascination with race, gender, sexuality and identity, couldn't faze Grigori. The fellow was jaded before it was cool.
"Yes you do," Selaphiel replied, and she grinned as Grigori pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. Selaphiel kissed Grigori passionately and groped his ass. Laughing, the two fallen angels slipped out of their clothes and began making love. Grigori's eager hands caressed Selaphiel's large breasts while she fondled his ass. Grigori grinned as Selaphiel reached for his long, thick member with both hands. Selaphiel smiled almost ferally as she stroked Grigori's cock. Back to the bed they went...
"Glorious," Grigori whispered as Selaphiel straddled him. he caressed her thick round ass as she stroked his cock. Selaphiel rubbed Grigori's member against her wet, hairy pussy. With a swift thrust, he entered her. Selaphiel groaned as Grigori's thick cock entered her pussy. Resting her hands on Grigori's broad shoulders, Selaphiel began riding him. The two longtime friends made love passionately, drawing on superhuman reserves of energy that mortal men and mortal women could never match. Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms.
"You're going to have to leave Ottawa, and neither Montreal nor Toronto are far enough, think Buffalo, NY, or something," Selaphiel said gently. Grigori caressed Selaphiel's thick round ass and gently kissed her shoulder. As fallen angels hiding in the world of humans, they had to be careful. Immortals remaining undetected among mortals must exercise great care. Humans are masters of sensing that which is different in their midst and persecuting it.
"I will miss you and this city," Grigori said gently. Selaphiel grinned, pleased with his choice of words. Over the course of thousands of years, Selaphiel and Grigori have loved, disliked and even hated each other. They always kept in touch. There were a few other fallen angels out there. For the most part, they avoided each other. The world is a big place, and the fallen and undying sons and daughters of Heaven didn't care for each other's company most of the time. Even among those who cannot die, one should know when it is time to move on.
"We have some preparations to make, I'll give you a ride to the airport," Selaphiel said, and Grigori nodded. A few days later, Grigori was at the airport, wearing a fake beard and mustache. He had a passport under a new name, and was headed for the United States. After sharing a passionate kiss and a heartfelt hug with Selaphiel, Grigori set forth on his new journey. A few hours later, Grigori was in Boston, Massachusetts, under the name Benson McGregor. He stayed at a hotel and looked for a new apartment. Money wasn't a problem. Fallen angels know how the human world works...
As Grigori began a new life, Selaphiel returned to her own existence. The tall, alluring female fallen angel got back to her daily routine. Selaphiel likes to shop at the Rideau Shopping Center, and her favorite movie theater is at South Keys Plaza. When Selaphiel isn't driving an EMT truck and saving lives on the streets of Ottawa, Ontario, she enjoys musicals and horror movies. For rest and relaxation, Selaphiel practices transcendental meditation mixed with Yoga. Selaphiel also collects Afro-Caribbean art and always has season tickets to the National Arts Center in downtown Ottawa. The lady does know how to live in style...
