by Ryan Hill
“You’re not a demon anymore.” Nicholas wagged his new finger. “You should know better than to think you can’t hurt me.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not physically, but my rebuffs will eventually break your heart.”
“Other way around,” Nicholas said with a grin. “Observe.”
He walked past me, making sure to get a nice smack upside my head, and I watched. Behind me were two large railroad ties jammed into a stone to form an X. Sam was tied to that X—and she’d seen better days. Clothes ripped, skin covered in soot, a single stream of blood poured from each eye; she was in a terror-fueled daze.
“How?” I asked.
“Amazing what one can do when Daddy is off screwing the maid.” Nicholas traced one of Sam’s bloody tear tracks with his thumb, then licked the blood off. “See, I know you know this game. You’ve been to the Seventh Circle, you know the drill. But Sam here…”
“Don’t,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” Nicholas asked in his demonic voice. “I spent an hour, an entire hour, trying to think of a way to really and truly punish you.”
Nicholas was one of the laziest, most spoiled and entitled turds in Hell. If he spent ten minutes using his brain it was considered a major miracle. An hour showed true dedication to his craft. He must’ve really had it in for me.
“Your dad would be so proud,” I said in earnest.
“Indeed.” Nicholas walked over to a rack filled with all sorts of torture devices sitting next to a fire pit. He pulled a red-hot poker from the fire and gazed upon the bright orange tip with glee. “I haven’t thought that long for some time, but it finally hit me. The only way to truly punish you … is to punish her.”
“Bart,” Sam said, begging. “Bart, please.”
Something wasn’t right. She never called me Bart. Always Bartholomew. She knew better. And then … everything around me started shaking. Nicholas lost his balance, falling in the fire pit, and the X Sam was tied to fell over. I slammed my eyes shut, not wanting to see her come to harm.
Something warm and wet licked my face—and I expected an acidic after burn or some spikes to follow. I cracked an eye open, terrified of what I was about to see. But I wasn’t in Hell. I was back on Earth, in my bed, a hairy beast with musky breath licking my face.
Ozzie.
“How about that.” I held up my hands. They were covered in healthy skin again, not melted black goo. The rest of my body was also healed. Even the parts of my body that had melted off were reattached and everything. I still wasn’t sure if this was real, but not having a ravaged exterior courtesy of Remy’s voodoo Greek fire was more relieving than passing a drug test.
The Hell Hound barked and cried, he was so happy to see me awake. If his tail wagged any harder, it’d fly off. I gently pushed him aside to wipe the Ozzie spit off my face.
“Always play it cool.” I held his tail, feeling it wag inside my hand. “Say it, don’t spray it.”
Ozzie barked and nodded. He got the message.
“He’s been laying with you for hours,” a voice said.
Gabriel. And he was wearing a black Fraggle Rock t-shirt and a slim pair of jeans.
My spirits dropped. This wasn’t Hell, but Gabriel? In my home? This was my own private Hell. The dream I’d had with Arthur and Sam left a lingering, troublesome feeling, and Gabriel’s presence threw napalm on that, making me infinitely more agitated.
Ozzie must’ve sensed my frustration because the hair on the Hell Hound’s back rose until it looked like a Mohawk ran down the length of his body. He bared his teeth and growled. I reminded myself to reward the pooch for it later.
“I’m not accepting flowers,” I said as I sat up. “But you can make a donation to the Get-the-Heaven-Out-of-My-Place-Before-I-Tear-Your-Head-Off Foundation.”
“Cute,” Gabriel said. “But Sam called me.”
“And she let you in?” I asked. “Where’d she run off to? I need to have a few stern words with her.”
“She’s not here,” Gabriel said. “Went to go get Duffy.”
“I don’t need a babysitter. Haven’t since … I want to say the Neoarchean era?”
“That’s it. You had entirely too much fun with all the gases being released during the planet’s formation.”
“It’s not every day a fart sets off a chain reaction that shakes an entire continent,” I said. “But my point stands. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Is that why you think I’m here?” Gabriel asked. “I have so many other things I could be doing right now.”
Whew. It was a relief to know Gabes wasn’t there to babysit me. The hipster-angel would’ve had a ball with his holier than thou cohorts in Heaven if that were the case.
I refused to answer. On the list of things I didn’t enjoy, chatting up Gabriel was on par with bathing in holy water. To break the silence, I considered “mistaking” him for an intruder and beating him to a pulp. I’d have gone for it, but considering I’d melted a few hours earlier, the hipster-angel had more than a fighting chance of winning.
“You were in pretty bad shape.” Gabriel ran a finger over the top of my dresser, checking for dust. What an old maid. “How much do you remember?”
“After I turned to putty the same way your mom did when she slept with me?” I asked. “Nothing.”
Gabriel frowned. “I don’t have a mother.”
“Or a sense of humor.” I banged my head against the bed rest. Should’ve known a “your mama” joke would fly over his halo.
“Sam got the fire out, but you were too far gone to heal on your own.” He took a seat at the foot of the bed. Ozzie barked in disapproval, making Gabriel think twice about staying. “Cute dog.”
“Cute?” I asked. “He’s anything but cute.”
Gabriel tried to pet Ozzie, but the Hell Hound snapped at his fingers. I didn’t even try to hide my laughter.
He sighed. “You weren’t healing. Sam thought you were going to die, so she called me.” He let out a slight, condescending grin. “She was right to. I’d never even come across what Remy used on you.”
It was obvious Gabriel was getting off on this story. None of the angels in Heaven would’ve admitted it, but they fell prey to the sin of pride more than a rogue like myself. Angels spent almost all their time up high in Heaven, looking down on humans, demons, everything, like we were in an ant farm. How could they not feel a sense of entitlement when it came to a world they did nothing but look down upon?
“I’m not thanking you, if that’s what you’re expecting,” I said.
“You? I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gabriel’s words oozed with sarcasm. He stood and paced around the room, the look in his eyes a little too joyful.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just you needed saving from some unknown substance…”
“No.” I shook my head. “No way in Heaven.”
“You were dying. I had to take drastic measures.”
“Don’t say it.” I rubbed my forehead. This wasn’t happening.
“And since you aren’t technically a demon anymore…”
I bit the inside of my mouth. Hard. Inflicting pain on myself was infinitely better than what Gabriel’s smug face was about to say.
“I gave you a full blessing.”
I sighed. “And here I thought things could only go up after getting melted.”
“In a way, they have,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t have a choice. Do you think I wanted to root around in that corrupt, perverted mind of yours? I felt so dirty, I had to cleanse myself in holy water.”
I couldn’t speak. A full blessing meant everything was washed away so I could start anew, physically and spiritually. My transgressions were forgiven, my wounds healed, and my pride was destroyed. The shame bombarding me was similar to what all those broken-hearted virgins must have felt after I left them high and dry. It wasn’t a fun feeling.
I mean I still didn’t regret taking their virtue, not by a long shot. I only assum
ed this was how they felt after being dumped by someone as dashing and debonair as myself. And it sucked.
“Would you rather I’d let you pass back into Hell?” Gabriel asked.
“I’d rather you never told me,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because ignorance is bliss.”
“Ah.”
Then the gears in my brain started churning. Gabriel never would’ve done this out of the goodness of his heart. If Sam had begged for help, the angel would have simply prayed for a good outcome. No, he’d given me a full blessing because he was told to. Heaven probably felt they could control me, or use the blessing as a “Hey, remember that time we saved your ass from total destruction and damnation?” trump card.
“You know I don’t owe you anything for what you did,” I said. “Unless you’d like a good kick in the ass.”
“Maybe you’ve been doing me a favor all this time,” Gabriel said. “Or maybe this is all part of His plan.”
How I wished smoke could come out of my eyeballs. Gabriel’s boss may have some grand, sweeping plan in store for me, but that didn’t mean I’d follow it. Rogues went their own way. “Any favors you think I’ve done for you, intentional or not, first and foremost served my own purposes. Whatever benefit you or your friends got was beside the point and, quite frankly, a huge disappointment to me.”
Gabriel stuck out his lips, pondering my response. He nodded, then stood. I guess that answer was enough to shut him up.
“And you can leave whenever you want,” I said.
“You don’t like visiting with me?” Gabriel asked in mock disappointment. How ironic; he knew how to joke about this, yet didn’t pick up on my “your mama” joke earlier. Typical. “I like spending time with you.”
“Gag me.”
“I remember when we were best friends. If you’d only listened to me.”
“What?” I’d heard Gabriel loud and clear, but wanted to play dumb, see if he took the bait.
“I said if you’d only … oh.”
I grinned, giving the angel a contemptuous look. Gabes didn’t completely take my bait, but he didn’t catch himself fast enough to stop the prank either.
“Yeah.” I gestured toward the door. “Don’t let it hit you where the good lord split you.”
“I’ll go, but not until Sam gets back with Duffy. It’s past time he came home.”
“Hm.” Getting Duffy to Heaven and out of my hair wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, but he was still of use to Sam and myself.
“Hm?” Gabriel repeated. “You don’t want him to go home?”
“Not yet,” I hedged. “How about … giving him a little more time to come to grips with everything?”
Gabriel beamed. “If ever there was an honorable demon.”
At that, I got a little hot under the collar. “Before this gets any more chummy and uncomfortable, I need to talk to you about Sam.”
“What about her?” Gabriel asked.
“The residual effects of her death, Duffy, what we’re working on … it’s all taking a toll on her.”
“How so?”
“There’s a lot of darkness surrounding her,” I said. “I’m not going to get into specifics that might get Sam in trouble, but she’s wearing down. Like she needs a vacation.”
Gabriel beamed. “You’re worried about her. I’m impressed.”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that. I’m just letting you know she could probably use a little rest and relaxation.”
Gabriel laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “Haven’t you been paying attention? God has a plan. For everyone. Including Sam.”
Before I could do my best to slap the imaginary halo off his head, Ozzie jumped off the bed, barking as he bolted for the front door. A few seconds later he was back in the bedroom, hopping and yipping at Duffy. The kid knelt, letting Ozzie lick his face while Gabriel stood, looking more somber than usual. Sam, who had come in with the Duffster, immediately took notice.
“What?”
Gabriel did his best to explain to Duffy why he needed to leave, but the angel was about as convincing as an accuser during the Salem witch trials. The kid screamed and cried and begged for more time. Ozzie sat at my feet, whining.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “This is their deal.”
The Hell Hound didn’t like that answer. He trotted over to Duffy and moved around and through the kid’s legs, his tail brushing against skin in the hopes of providing comfort.
Sam stood off to the side, arms wrapped tightly around her body. The almost-angel looked heartbroken. I couldn’t figure out if it was more because of the general suckiness of our existence, or the fact that Duffy needed to leave. She gave me a pleading look and I shrugged my shoulders. What did she want me to do? This wasn’t my rodeo.
Meanwhile, Ozzie came back to cry and paw at me. What did the dog care if Duffy went to Heaven? More to the point, did Ozzie even understand what was happening? He lay down on the floor, covering his face with his paws. Between the Hell Hound and Sam—okay, Duffy too—the scene was too sad for words.
Sod it all. I really am going soft.
“Wait,” I said. “Maybe Duffy can stick around a little longer. He could still help us.”
Duffy’s mouth fell open. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at me with a newfound respect. Or maybe it was the respect that should’ve always been there. Hard to say for sure.
“Souls don’t get more than three days on Earth after dying before they have to face judgment for their final destination,” Gabriel said. “Duffy exceeded that a while ago. Unlike you, I follow the rules.”
I tasted bile in my mouth. Few things brought out the rebel in me like a stickler for the rules. “What’s the harm in letting him stay until this is finished? Are you so high and mighty that you’d rather follow the rules than stop the Caelo in Terra?”
“Bartholomew is right.” There was a renewed energy in Sam’s voice. “Duffy’s a lot more than your average ghost.”
“I’ve got mad skills,” Duffy added.
I shook my head. Mad skills? Why? Why was I trying to help someone who said, “mad skills”? Maybe I should go back to Hell for eternal punishment.
“My hands are tied,” Gabriel said. “I’m sorry. I can see Duffy means a lot to the both of you.”
Ha!
The laughter exploded out of me involuntarily, and the loudness of it made Ozzie jump. Sam scowled, the creases on her forehead revealing themselves.
“It’s more than that,” she said. “And you know it.”
“If not for us, do it for Ozzie.” I gestured at the Hell Hound-in-training.
Gabriel ran a hand over his face. “I’ll have to ask. I don’t know how long it will take to get an answer.”
“So, what?” I asked. “We sit on the couch and watch TV until you get one?”
“I’m disappointed,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “You know I have no dominion over you.”
There was the Gabriel I’d been frien– No, not going there. “Sneaky angel.”
“In fact, you’re free to do what you want,” he said. “Sam too. I don’t have any new orders for her.”
“And Duffy?” Sam asked.
“He’s still your responsibility,” Gabriel said. “But remember, he belongs in Heaven.”
“Of course,” Sam said.
“And to help ensure that happens, I’ve made it so only you and Bartholomew can see Duffy.” Gabriel glanced at me. “We can’t lose his soul. The consequences are too great.”
“Agreed,” Sam said.
I knew what sort of consequences Gabriel referred to, even if he had done Duffy a solid favor. The kid’s soul was meant for Heaven. Period. If that didn’t happen, and he wound up in Hell, Purgatory, Aruba, anywhere but Heaven, Sam and I would incur the full fury of the Big Man. Lucifer didn’t like losing souls. The Man Upstairs hated it. He hated losing anything. I knew this because one of the few good takeaways from the Fall was how much it had hurt
Him to cast the renegade angels out of Heaven. The rumor in Hell was that we’d upset Big Man so much, it forced the dinosaurs to go extinct. And that was angels falling from Heaven. Children were much higher on His food chain. To steal those precious souls? I couldn’t fathom the equivalent for what the Caelo were up to, but it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Don’t worry, Gabriel,” Duffy said. “I told you. I’ve got mad skills.”
Said the kid who’d died a few days ago.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Hunt for Remy Broussard
We walked Gabriel to his car, a blue Nissan Leaf. I understood him wanting to help the environment, but what about helping yourself? Nobody would catch me behind the wheel of one of those electric toy cars. They weren’t even worth stealing. The key part of taking a joyride was joy.
Not even Ozzie wanted any part of the Leaf. He cocked a leg and relived himself on one of the tires. Gabriel shooed him away. Some of Ozzie’s run-off got on the angel’s sneakers. Duffy laughed.
“Remember what I said about consequences,” Gabriel said. He got in the Leaf and drove off.
“His odd affection for Duffy aside,” I said, lighting a cigarette. “That dog may be all right when it’s all said and done.”
“I can’t believe how much he takes after you.” Sam turned to me. “Although I’m not sure if that’s a compliment for him, or a knock on you.”
“Probably somewhere in the middle.”
“Thanks,” Sam said. “For helping with Duffy.”
“As much fun as it is keeping him out of Heaven,” I said, exhaling, “he really can help us.”
“He will be okay, won’t he?” Sam bit at her fingernails.
“He should be,” I said. “Unless you completely screw things up.”
Sam elbowed me in the ribs. “Jerk.”
“Something might happen, I don’t know. I can’t see the future.”