Falling for Heaven (Four Winds) by Anne Conley

‘popular’ ones, so to speak.”
    “Okay.”  So far, so good.  He just knew his Bible.  Not crazy.  “So?”
    “Uri is short for Uriel.” 
    “Okay.  So you were named after an archangel.”  She smiled at him, affably.
    “No.”  He stared straight through her, as if willing her to know what he was talking about, but she didn’t get it.   Or, she didn't want to get it.
    “What?”
    “I am the archangel.”  He said simply, his guileless eyes penetrating her, gauging her reaction.
    Heather took another sip of wine, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and crossed her arms across her chest. Typical.   Heather couldn't help but wonder what in the world it would take to find a decent guy that was both good looking and not crazy.  Maybe she needed to move.  The more she thought about it, the more her stomach sunk.  He seemed so nice.
    He took another deep breath and watched her carefully.  She watched him watch her, not speaking.
    “I help people fulfill their destinies.”
    “Destinies?  As in fate?"  A scoff escaped her.  She couldn't help it.  "What we are fated to do?  If we’re fated to do it, why do we need you?”  She was humoring him.  She didn’t believe a word of this, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
    “It’s not fate.  I just show a possible destiny for a person.  What they are capable of doing with their lives.  It’s up to them to pursue it.”
    “Like who?”
    He thought a moment.  “Emerson, for one.  Anne Boleyn.”  He scratched his chin.  “Steve Jobs, Henry Ford, Alexander Bell…”
    “Steve Jobs? You’ve got to be kidding me!”  That’s it.  He was crazy.  She stood up.
    He looked puzzled.  “No, I’m not.”  He resum ed his recitation.  “Milton, daVinci, Curie, Pasteur, Einstein…”
    As he spoke, something in the tonal quality of his voice made her remember the ballet he had hummed at the club.  She was momentarily lost in his voice as he recited names to her.  The heat in her belly spread throughout her torso and down her limbs, until she could feel the white-hot in her fingers and toes.  Strangely, it was comforting.
    “Are you…doing something to me?”  She asked him quietly.  This was incredibly weird, and she didn't like it much.  Something about the way she felt was disconcerting.  Could he be doing this to her?
    He smiled a small smile at her, and the gesture gave his face a boyish quality .  Heather couldn't believe he was an archangel, that would mean he was thousands of years old.  “It’s part of the process.  I’m not doing it, but it happens, when we meet, when I speak of the truth, when your destiny is fulfilled.  I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable.”  He clenched his fingers.  “It happens to me, too.”  His smile widened, as if he was trying to comfort her.
    Heat her could argue his words.  The feelings weren't uncomfortable, they were downright odd.  But she couldn’t argue with the sensation that had taken over her entire body.  She could feel the heat all over, her skin flushed, and a sweat broke out in her armpits and over her lip.  The heat filled her body, flushing her skin a deep red color.  Heather could feel the flush climb her cheeks and watched it spread down her arms.
    “What is it?”  She whispered.
    Uri shrugged.  “It’s hard to explain, but I’ve had the most success by telling people it’s the Holy Spirit.”
    “I have the Holy Spirit inside me?”  She thought back to other times she had f elt the white heat in her belly: at the park, at the club.  It hadn't felt exactly like this, though.  A harsh bark of laughter escaped her.
    Uri looked at her ruefully.  “It’s hard for you to believe, isn’t it?  My assignments keep getting more difficult.  There just aren’t that many people left who take things on pure faith.”
    “How do you lead people to their destiny?”
    “It varies.  Sometimes, it’s just as simple as telling them they are doing the wrong