Michael woke up early the next morning. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking often. They burned because of the bright light shining down onto his face through the bedroom window.

The sun was strong. Its heat had made Michael break out in a sweat while he had still been unconscious. He wiped his forehead and sat up.

He grimaced as pain shot up his back. He would definitely need to find something besides a floor to sleep on before the next night.

Michael pushed himself off the floor with both his hands and feet, then made his way downstairs. His mouth was dry; he was thirsty. Michael walked over to the kitchen sink, turned the faucet on, and took some water into his hands and raised it to his mouth. It was so refreshing that when Michael had drank his fill he was fully awake and ready to start out on his mission.

When he stepped out of the front door Michael surveyed his surroundings. There wasn't much to see because the town surrounding him was very small.

To his right was the center where all the businesses were. Michael knew that heading that way would be a good idea. He'd be able to get a feel of the place and his chances of meeting the hunter he needed to find would be stronger.

Michael walked with purpose in his stride as he left the house behind him. His taut muscles loosened, and with it being such a beautiful day he couldn't help but be a little more positive about his situation. He could do this.

Michael passed a bookstore and grocery store with barely a glance at them, but when he reached the first of the two diners in town, he paused. Many people went to restaurants for their first meal of the day around this time. He knew it would be smart to go in, so Michael went.

When he pushed the door open the smell of several flowers, including Lilacs, came to his attention. Even with his sense of smell weakened in his new state (along with every other damn sense) the flowers still smelled wonderful.

Michael noticed that they were hanging in a basket above his head.

When he looked back down, Michael glanced around the room and saw that most of the tables were full of either elderly couples or parents with their children. None of them looked like they could be the one he was looking for. So he sighed and sat down on one of the stools at the bar a few feet from the entrance.

Michael could see into the back kitchen through an open space from where he was positioned. Two humans dressed in jeans and t-shirts were flipping food in pans there.

His stomach growled. Michael was at first confused by this, but quickly remembered from another one of his missions that when people were hungry their bodies let them know and growling was how they did it.

"Sir, can I help you?" a voice asked.

Michael craned his neck to see a young blonde woman looking at him with piercing green eyes. "Huh?"

"What would you like to eat?"

"I do not want any food," Michael lied flatly, despite the pain in his stomach.

The waitress squinted at his answer. "We have a policy here. You have to order something or leave."

Michael sighed. "I don't have any money."

"You're all muddy," the waitress noted. "Are you homeless?"

"I'm from out of town," Michael explained. "I fell, and I left my spare clothes home. And I lost my wallet."

The last two parts weren't true. He didn't have any other clothes and he didn't have a wallet, but the lies served their purpose.

The waitress looked sympathetic. "Sounds like you're having a bad day. For just this time I guess I'll get you some eggs and bacon on the house."

Michael smiled. "Thanks…" He glanced at her nametag. "Nicole."

Nicole seemed to blush a little. "You're welcome…"

"It's Michael," Michael told her after realizing she wanted to know. "My name is Michael."

"Your food should be ready in fifteen minutes, Michael." Nicole winked and turned away.

As she left to enter the kitchen, Michael shook his head.

Apparently, he was still in good enough shape to make the girl interested in him as a mate.

It made Michael wonder exactly how he looked. He knew he wasn't in Adam's body anymore (God had given him his own body), but he had not yet seen his reflection clearly. All Michael knew was that he was tall, maybe around six feet two, and that his hair was fair colored.

It wasn't important to him. He wasn't that vain, and he had far more important things to think about. For example, at the moment, Michael was preoccupied with the smell of bacon drifting to him from the kitchen.

Mmmmmm. He could almost taste it. The irony was he didn't even know what the stuff tasted like.