by Eve Langlais
She didn’t plan to go in, but voices from behind spurred her. She entered and peeked to see a pair of soldiers emerge from the tree line, and head for the hedges!
Not wanting to get caught, she sped down the path, looking for another exit. The space between the hedges was too close to take flight, too tall to see over. A place of trickery she realized, as some paths led to dead ends. She tried to retrace her steps but quickly became lost before she stumbled across the most shocking thing.
The starlight provided enough illumination for her to recognize Michelina, wearing a short robe, made shorter on one side as she’d hiked it above her waist to better wrap her leg around a bigger angel’s waist. She moaned as if in pain, and yet she appeared to be participating in whatever it was that hurt. What were they doing? Why were they naked below the waist and banging their groins against each other?
It came to her suddenly! The rite of fornication. What do you know? Opposing male and female parts did fit!
Michelina cried out, screamed really, and clawed at the angel moving rapidly against her.
The poor thing! She was in pain. Helen couldn’t stand by and do nothing, so she yelled, “Leave her alone!”
The male angel’s eyes widened, but it was Michelina who hissed, “She can’t tell anyone.”
The male angel tugged his robe over a penis much larger than Helen had ever seen. She usually dealt with cherubs.
Distracted by the angel’s massive protuberance, it took her a moment to realize he’d drawn a sword from his hip and pulled it back to swing.
Helen squeaked. “What are you doing?” Was she about to be killed? She wasn’t the one who’d broken any laws.
“Don’t you use that sword.” Michelina came to her rescue.
Helen almost sighed in relief.
“You can’t do it here,” Michelina chided. “Think of the blood. Do it somewhere else. Somewhere we won’t get caught.”
The implication widened Helen’s eyes.
“I’ll take her below,” said the angel.
Where below? Helen glanced at her feet. There was nothing under there but—
The angel lunged for her, and she yelled, which led to Michelina hissing, “Shh.”
“I will not shush!” Helen yelped as she struggled against the male angel. “Help. They’re breaking—”
A hand slammed over her mouth.
Helen bit it. The angel yelled before thumping her temple with a fist. The next thing she knew, she woke in someone’s arms, head throbbing.
She blinked and slurred, “Whaaat happened?”
“Don’t move. We’re almost there.” The deep voice and its claim didn’t reassure.
Her head ached with pain, not something she’d often experienced. She only rarely hurt herself.
A jolt ended their flight, and the angel holding her let go. She hit the ground with a sharp cry, her palms slapping against stone that felt pitted and slimy.
She blinked and gaped and made the mistake of sucking in a breath. Putrid. Awful. Stomach clenching. She gagged. “What’s that smell?”
“Welcome to Earth.”
4
Hands thrust into his pockets, Julio strolled the sidewalk. Others might drive to work or take the public transit system, but he quite enjoyed the exercise. The ambiance helped, too. Life teemed around him with sights and smells, which weren’t always pleasant, but it beat the never-ending ash falling in Hell.
Not so long ago, Julio had been living at Grim Headquarters, a gloomy castle-like structure in Hell where he awaited his assignments—the collection of souls. But given the Canadian guild never had much work, the Dark Lord had reassigned them to Earth as part of a new initiative called Grim Dating. Julio had gone from reaper to pimp.
At least it came with all the cable channels.
As he strode past an alley, a place where he’d done more than one deal back in his living days, he felt a tug on his cloak. The cloak. The one all the reapers wore because of their deal with the devil. Die and become one of the damned or serve as a guide for souls when death claimed their fleshy shell.
Everyone went to Hell. Even the supposedly virtuous. Apparently, protests and veganism weren’t enough to wipe clean their sins. He’d never once in his career brought anyone to Heaven. Although he’d heard of some souls being lost to Limbo, spirits that somehow never met up with a Reaper or who refused to be corralled. Their loss, as Limbo tended to eat at them, whittling away at their souls until there was nothing but an echo left.
Julio tugged at the smoke-like fabric of his cloak, only it remained stiff as if caught on something, rigid and at attention despite nothing being there. Nothing but a feeling, the kind he used to get when assigned a reaping mission. Except he was a dating specialist now. He no longer chased after death.
Still, the sense of urgency couldn’t be denied. His grim magic wanted him to go down the alley. Therefore, he did. It wasn’t as if he had anything to fear. Humans very rarely went around with swords, decapitating people, and he would heal from pretty much any other wound. However, not being keen on pain, he did approach with stealth. Once he turned the corner, he’d leave the faint light of the street for pure shadow.
His cloak rose to swirl around him, covering him head to toe as he stepped around the edge and perceived an odd sight.
A woman was huddled on the ground, curly hair spilling over her shoulders, hand raised, her mouth rounded in surprise and horror, given the sword held over her head by a massive dude. “Please,” she beseeched.
The man remained impassive, and for a second, Julio saw ghostly wings at his back. Holy fuck, the sword dude was an angel about to mete out divine retribution.
Julio hesitated. The rules were clear. Don’t engage with angels.
Ever.
And she was also definitely an angel. The more she shivered, the more her wings took shape and substance at her back, but it was the flickering halo that cinched it.
Her lip trembled as she said, “Don’t kill me. I promise to not tell.”
Big Angel sneered. “The dead don’t speak.”
Not entirely true. Damned souls had lots to say, but Julio couldn’t be sure about angels, so as the sword began its descent, despite it being none of his business, he sprang forward. His cloak snapped, revealing him stepping out of the shadows. His silver-hued stave emerged, halting the glowing blade with a scream of metal and shower of sparks.
“You dare!” boomed the angel as he whirled on Julio.
“You gotta admit, this isn’t exactly sporting. Aren’t angels all about honor?”
“She is a criminal,” Big Angel declared.
“Am not!” Little Angel hotly retorted, pushing to her knees.
Julio’s gaze briefly flicked in her direction, and Big Angel pounced, sword swinging. Julio only just managed to parry the strokes.
“Show your face, taker of souls,” hissed the angel.
As if Julio would pause long enough to take off his cloak, his only shield. “Why? So you can see how much prettier I am than you?”
“Argh!” The angel swung his sword. Julio parried with his stave. While that distracted the angel, Julio punched. Snap. Crack.
The white tunic wore a spray of blood. What do you know; angels bled red.
“How dare you!” Big Angel reeled, holding his face.
“Don’t pull the self-righteous crap with me. You were going to murder an unarmed woman.”
“Reapers are supposed to be neutral parties,” retorted the angel.
“If it makes you feel better, I won’t let her kill you either.”
The woman snorted.
“This is Heaven’s business,” Big Angel pompously informed.
“Only until you bring death into it, and according to my reaper handbook, she’s not due.”
“She will die and so will you!” The angel charged at him, expression fierce, and Julio only just managed to stay ahead of the blows.
He dropped to his haunches and swung his stave, the blow gl
ancing off the angel’s ankle. Big Angel yelled and stumbled, but when Julio would have pressed his advantage, the angel sprang into the air and grabbed hold of a fire escape, climbing quickly until he stood a few stories overhead. He jumped off with a mighty push of his wings yelling, “This isn’t over, reaper. You will wish you’d walked away.”
“Up yours, asshole.” Julio flipped the angel off. Why not? He’d already gone to Hell, and it wasn’t all that bad.
With the fuckwad gone, Julio made his way to the dazed woman, who, under better control, had tucked away her wings and halo. She didn’t appear ready to move.
He prodded her. “Come on, Curls. Get up. Get moving. You can’t stick around. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be here when the asshole returns with some of his buddies.”
“Here?” She blinked at him. “Where is here? He said Earth.”
“Yup. Canada to be exact.”
“That’s impossible.” She touched the pavement and rose to her feet, looking around. “I can’t be on Earth.”
“Guess again.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t belong here. I have to return to Heaven. Which way are the gates?” She whirled as if she could see the pearly impossibilities. Only those allowed entry knew their location.
He stared at her. “You’re an angel. Don’t you have like a homing device for home?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been outside the nursery, and I was unconscious when he kidnapped me. I must return. You have to show me the way.”
Julio hated to burst her naïve bubble. “Sorry, Curls, but short of you dying and living a perfect life, the only place you’re going is a lot hotter.”
5
“I am not going to Hell!” Helen squealed, mostly in shock. Had she damned herself? She’d not meant for her restless feet to get her condemned.
“Seems logical given you appear to have fallen.”
“I am not…That is…” She bit her lip. He might have a point. She’d broken the rules and now found herself far from home.
“Why was that angel trying to smite you? Aren’t you guys all about love and peace?” he asked.
“Obviously he was seduced by the devil. Why else would he attack me?” Her mind still had a hard time grasping what had happened.
“He was obviously worried about something. Did you catch him being bad?”
“I did! Him and Michelina.” It emerged hot and indignant. “They were fraternizing. Indulging in the rite of fornication!” Her cheeks warmed.
“You caught them fucking? That’s not a big deal. People fuck all the time. Or was he married?”
“Is fucking another word for fornication?” she asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“Um. Er. More like a slang word for it. Have you never heard anyone cussing in Heaven?”
“Cursing is against the rules. As is fraternization and killing.”
“How many rules do you have to follow?”
“At last count? One hundred and eleven thousand four hundred and sixty-three. But I heard they’d be adding four more soon.” The latest ban being for a fruit called pineapple on something called a pizza. An Earth thing, obviously, so she wasn’t sure how it applied in Heaven.
“Did you say over one hundred thousand? That’s fucking insane. And you obey every single one?”
“Usually. Except for tonight.” Her head drooped. “I just wanted to go for a walk.”
“And saw something you shouldn’t.” He sighed. “Sorry for your luck.” He actually sounded sincere, although it was hard to tell given his cloak swirled around him still, hiding his features, concealing him. Yet she wasn’t scared.
“I need to return to Heaven and explain. Accept my punishment for leaving my room after sundown.”
“What makes you think that angel won’t kill you if you try?”
“Because that’s evil!” she huffed.
“You do realize he tried to take your head off with his oversized knife?”
“He was trying to scare me.” And he’d succeeded.
“He would have killed you if I’d not stepped in, Curls. You’re a witness to him being bad. He won’t want you coming back to Heaven.”
Much as she hated to wrap her mind around it, she knew he spoke the truth. “I’ll find a way.”
“Does that way involve waiting here for him?”
“I should change locations.”
“Yes, you should. You got a place to go?”
She opened and shut her mouth before admitting, “No.”
“I might know a few places, Curls. Let’s boogie.” Snaring her hand, he tugged her out of the alley into a busy thoroughfare that had her flinching at the stimulation overdose.
Lights.
Noise.
People.
Humans!
Holy Father who art imprisoned in heaven. Real humans. She could tell because none of them had shadow wings or halos.
“Um, you might not want to say that out loud, angel,” her rescuer murmured, drawing his arm around her shoulders and tucking her into the pocket of swirling darkness that flowed from his shoulders.
She thought he read her mind until she realized she’d murmured aloud. “I’ve never seen any before. They look quite…” She paused, only to blurt out, “Ordinary.”
He chuckled. “You mean, like you?”
“Not entirely. They don’t have wings or halos.” She glanced at him. “Neither do you, and yet you’re not like them. What are you?” Because while he didn’t sport extra parts, he did have a cloak at his back that undulated like smoke and kept his face hidden.
At her query, he finally shoved back his hood and she saw a solid man with a jaw bearing a shadow of facial hair. “Told you, I’m a reaper. Name of Julio. And you are?”
“Helen,” she muttered in reply as she eyed Julio. “Nursery nanny in Heaven.”
“Lucky babies.”
She blinked, not quite sure what he meant and eyed him more closely. “When you say you’re a reaper, do you mean a grim reaper, the monsters who steal souls?”
He chuckled. “We don’t steal, just guide them to their final destination.”
“Hell,” she stated.
“If that’s their fate, then yes.”
“I was taught you were at least twice our height with great big swords to cleave our souls from our bodies.” She slashed a hand.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
She wasn’t. He actually pleased the eye. She felt heat in her cheeks again and eyed the ground as they walked. “Given that we are not supposed to see death coming, does this mean since I have that you’re here to take my soul?” Did she have a soul? Wasn’t that a human thing?
“If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have saved you.”
“I suppose not. I’m very confused, and I don’t like this at all. I just want to go back to Heaven.”
“Afraid you’re stuck, Curls. But it’s not all bad. Earth’s got some cool shit to offer. I mean, um, stuff.”
Curls? Her hand went to her hair. She’d never had a nickname before. Or was it because he’d forgotten her proper one already?
“What would I do here? Would the humans assign me a home?”
“Only if you pay rent. Which means money.”
“You mean riches?” She pursed her lips. “I have nothing. Material possessions are for the covetous.”
“You don’t own anything? Knickknacks? Books?”
“I have a Bible in my room.”
“So you own something.”
She shook her head. “I borrowed it from the library.” Shelves of the same seven repeating books.
“Well, on Earth, people like to own stuff. And to buy it, you need money, which means you’ll have to get a job.”
Her expression brightened. “I can work.”
“Most places will want identification.” He frowned at her. “I don’t usually deal in that department.”
“I have identification. My face and name.” Each one was unique in Heaven. Ex
cept when it came to rare twins. If too identical, they got numbered. Like Manfred One and Manfred Two, cherubs that recently graduated from the nursery.
“That’s not enough. You need plastic. Like this.” He pulled something from a pocket and showed her a slim card with his image and writing on it.
“This is a horrible picture.” She pointed. “Doesn’t look like you at all.”
“Yeah, but that’s what they want you to carry around. To prove who you are. You need one to get a job and open a bank account for direct deposit.”
“What’s a bank?”
His lips flattened. “You have a lot to learn, Curls.”
Helen frowned. “Surely it can’t be that difficult.” After all, humans managed it. “I will provide my services as a nanny and receive a room and sustenance.”
Julio rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Wow, you really have no clue. Do you realize there are millions of people living in this city?”
“Millions?” The very concept floored her. Heaven didn’t have that many living in it. Then again, what did she know? She knew nothing outside of the nursery. Tonight had proven she was woefully lacking in education.
“Yes, millions. That many people in one concentrated area means there’s competition for jobs and housing. For someone like you with no skills, no proper identification, who needs to hide…” He whistled. “You might have been better off dying. In Hell, all that shit is taken care of for you.” He slipped and didn’t correct his swearing.
“I don’t belong in Hell.”
“It’s so cute when angels deny the truth.” It wasn’t Julio that replied to her statement but a stranger who suddenly appeared, bringing with him the most obnoxious smell. However, that wasn’t what drew her attention.
Older than Julio, the male stood a few inches shorter and definitely not as wide, yet he took up more space as if his body couldn’t quite contain him. Heat spilled from the man’s frame. It blurred the edges of his shape, making her imagine giant leathery wings and curling horns.