Pestilence completed the gesture, langourously kissing her hand, loathe to break the contact between them. It must be a dream, he figured. The woman even smelled like his angel. His fix on reality must be getting skewed from lonliness, he thought. But she *was* beautiful. And it *had* been so long since he'd been with a woman.

He smiled up at her. "Those cookie-cutter angels wish they could look like you. And my name is Albin," he said and winked. "Angela and Albin. Sounds like a good combination, don't you think?"