by Sam Cheever
Stepping past the snooty receptionist, I noted the way she leaned away from me, as if touching the pretty colors would infect the stick up her ass and transform it into a rainbow. Personally I thought it might do her some good.
I entered the room and looked around, not surprised to see that it looked pretty much the same as the waiting room. With one notable exception.
Bathed in silver light from a nearby window, a man sat behind another white desk, this one much larger. He was skinny to the point of emaciated and, judging from his long arms and legs, looked very tall. He was dressed all in white and had pale skin—again, not a surprise—and his large hands were folded in front of him on the desk. He had small, dark-brown eyes and a wide mouth, with lips that were just a shade redder than usual, and a frothy cap of bright-green hair.
I grinned.
He smiled back and stood, offering me one of his large hands. “Mx. Phelps, I’m Gus. I’ll be your celestial counselor while you’re here.”
“Nice hair, Gus.”
He reached up and patted the tangled, green mop. “Thank you. Enjoy it while you can.”
I frowned as he indicated the white couch across the room. “Would you like to sit? Or lie down?”
“Actually, Gus. I’d like to run like hell.”
Gus nodded but didn’t look surprised. “Why don’t we compromise and you can just pace.”
“Deal.”
Gus sat down and folded his hands on top of the desk. He watched me pace for a few minutes, saying nothing. Finally I stopped and looked at him. “Do you want me to start?”
Gus shrugged. “If you want.”
I frowned. Was this some kind of sick joke? “What if I said I just wanted to leave?”
Gus shrugged again. “You’re not a prisoner here, Astra.”
I stared at him for a minute and then it hit me. He was being tricky. “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to impress on me that I need to work at this to fix it. That it’s up to me to make myself get better. And that if I’m not willing to try I’m not going to get better.”
Again he shrugged. He reached up and scratched the mop of green on his head with one finger.
I gritted my teeth against a wave of temper. Despite the fun addition of the green hair, Gus was starting to piss me off. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to get better.”
He cocked his grass-colored head. “Really? Are you sure about that?”
I frowned. “Is that a trick question?”
“Do you realize you answered a question with a question?”
“Is that bad?”
“Don’t you know only therapists are allowed to do that?”
I looked at him. He looked at me. I grinned. He smiled. “How is this gonna go, Gus?”
His smile widened. “Would you like to sit now?”
With a sigh I admitted defeat. “Would you be pleased if I did?”
He snorted. “Would you care if I was?”
I sat, crossed my legs, and clasped my hands in my lap. Frowning, I noticed my pretty boots were no longer bright blue. They were now a soothing shade of sky blue. Well, just shit.
Gus spread his long fingers over his desk and, in a flash of light, a book appeared in front of him. He perused it for a while, one finger sliding down each page as if he was speed-reading. I assumed it had something to do with me and my problem so I waited, my fingers twining nervously. In the interim, I looked around Gus’ office.
Despite my initial perception, the office wasn’t entirely white. At least not always. Every now and then an item would burst into color and then slowly fade back to white. A picture frame on the wall of bookshelves burst into blue and began to lighten. The large plant near the window, beyond which only a fluffy bank of clouds could be seen, erupted into deep green and then eased back to white.
It was obvious that Gus, like me, was trying to buck the system, with only limited success. But I appreciated his efforts. No wonder they’d given me to him.
Gus finally closed the book and looked up.
“Does the story in that book have a happy ending?”
“Again with the questions.”
I snorted. “This time I really want the answer.”
“Then I’ll try to get you one. But I don’t have it yet.”
“Fair enough. So, where do we start?”
Gus stood and came around his desk. I noticed his hair had turned the color of young moss, softly green rather than vibrant. Apparently Heaven leeched all color out of things and I found that disturbing on so many levels.
There had to be a way to fix that.
Gus stopped in front of me and I started to stand. He placed a hand on my shoulder, holding me in my seat. “No, sit. I just want to delve into your aura a bit. Are you all right with that?”
I wasn’t sure if I was all right with it or not. But I realized I was going to have to trust him or the counseling thing wasn’t going to work, so I nodded.
“Good. Now I just want you to sit very still and try not to tense up.”
Easier said than done. Especially when I felt the first, invasive, spectral touch sliding over the place, deep inside my body, where my magic used to live.
It was all I could do not to leap out of that chair and run screaming from the room.
“Close your eyes, Astra, and tell me when you feel a surge of power.”
I did as he asked, but didn’t really feel anything except invaded. His spectral fingers danced along the edges of my aura with deft gentleness. Despite his attempts to be gentle, however, I soon realized my shoulders were encroaching on my ears and forced them down.
“Relax. We’re nearly done.”
“I don’t think it’s work— Whoa!” A jolt of power speared through me and I jumped. “What was that?”
Gus removed his hands and stepped back, frowning slightly. “That was a tiny bubble of errant magic that you had stored.”
I felt my eyes go wide. “Stored? Is there more in there?”
He turned away and walked back to his desk, dropping into it and sitting forward. Gus rubbed his palms together and looked at me, his brown gaze filled with questions even I could see. “I’m sure there is. Not enough to do anything with, of course, but it proves one thing…” He trailed off and I nearly leapt from my chair.
“What?”
“Hmm?”
“What does it prove?”
“Oh. I’m not sure. I’ll need more tests.”
Swearing like a Venutian soldier, I jumped to my feet and started to pace again.
* * * * *
I spent the next several hours being poked and prodded and sent through large, white tubes that made my skin crawl under a series of intrusive pulses and tones. By the time I was led, shaking and exhausted, back to Gus’ office, my clothing and pretty boots were pure white and I was pretty sure my hair was too.
Gus was sitting behind his desk again. His hair was bright orange. He smiled when I walked in. “There you are. I have really good news for you.” He stood up and I smiled. Good news could only mean one thing.
“I can get my power back?”
Gus grabbed a hat off his desk and started toward me. “What? Oh, I don’t know that yet. But it’s time for lunch and Tuesdays are meatloaf day.”
He grasped my arm and spun me toward the door, pulling my arm through his. Speechless, I stumbled with him through the waiting room, blinking stupidly as he turned to the woman behind the desk. “See you in an hour, Mx. Pickles.”
The woman gave him her insincere smile. “Meatloaf and Jell-O?”
Gus opened the outer door and ushered me through. “Lime Jell-O, Mx. Pickles. Better than sex.”
The woman made a high-pitched choking sound that I assumed was laughter, cut off when Gus closed the door.
“Mx. Pickles? Is that some kind of joke?”
Gus pulled my arm through his again and started off. “Not at all. Last names don’t mean anything in Heaven so we make them up.”
I snor
ted. “Are you telling me that sour-faced woman in there chose the name Pickles?”
Gus frowned down at me. “Mx. Pickles has a wonderful sense of humor. You must have just gotten on her bad side.”
“Is she a double-sided coin?”
Gus grinned, squeezing my arm under his. “It’s a beautiful day.”
I looked away from Gus for the first time since exiting the therapy building and sucked in a surprised breath. The area we walked through looked like Earth, with green trees and shrubs and flowers overflowing vibrantly colored beds lining both sides of the red-brick sidewalk. “Wow, color.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t there be?”
“Because everything is always white.”
Gus’ eyebrows lifted. “Is it?”
“Are you screwing with me?”
“I don’t think so. But let me think about that.”
I laughed. “I’m starting to think you’re crazier than I am.”
Rather than being offended, Gus chuckled. “You could be right.”
We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes and I started to relax, putting the tension-filled morning behind me. Birds sang high in the deep-green trees, a soft breeze wafted warmly past, and enormous, intricately marked butterflies danced from flower to flower around us. For the first time since I’d been coming there, it actually did feel like Heaven.
A woman was walking toward us on the sidewalk and, as she reached us, she put her hand on my arm and smiled. Bright power jolted from her to me, silvery and light. “How are you today, dear?”
I gasped as the power touched me and jerked my hand away. Gus’ face turned thoughtful but he said nothing. The woman walked on and I rubbed the spot where she’d touched me, frowning over my shoulder at her. “Did you see that?”
“Hmm.”
Seeing that Gus was buried in his thoughts, I shook my head and let it go. A moment later we stopped, allowing an elderly man to scurry across the sidewalk in front of us. The man stopped and reached a hand toward Gus. “Hello, Doc.”
Gus clasped the man’s hand. “Barnabus. Are you enjoying this gorgeous day?”
“I certainly am.” He glanced at me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Astra. Astra, this is Barnabus. He used to be one of my clients.”
Barnabus reached a gnarled hand in my direction and I clasped it. “Hello.” Silvery power shot out of his hand into mine. I jumped and made a surprised sound. “What the…”
Gus pulled me on down the sidewalk. “See you later, Barnabus.”
“Why is everybody zapping me?”
Gus shrugged. “Static electricity?”
“He didn’t zap you when you touched him.”
Gus just shrugged again.
“Astra.”
I turned at the sound of a familiar voice and smiled when I saw Flick walking hand in hand with a large, black-haired woman who was dressed head-to-toe in black leather. My old guardian angel had grown his stringy brown hair out into a ponytail, which he wore in a single braid, plaited through with colorful beads. The goatee that had been a pitiful shadow on his chin the last time I’d seen him had grown into a moderately respectable facial ornament, with the side benefit that it strengthened his not-so-manly chin. Flick even looked as if he’d bulked up a bit.
Despite his added bulk, the woman Flick was with still seemed bigger. Her shoulders were broader than his and she had a tattoo of a dancing angel on one biceps. Her face was round, with high cheekbones, a broad forehead and wide, deep-red lips. I barely recognized Merriam without the rapier strapped at her hip and several platinum knives sheathed in her wide, brown belt. Flick’s girlfriend walked right up to me and pulled me into a hug. “How you been, girl?”
I hugged her back, glad to see her again. “I’ve been okay. How about you? Been in any good battles lately?” I’d learned Merriam was trying to earn a place in the Archangel ranks. To do it, she needed to prove herself both on and off the battlefield.
“Flick and I just got back from a humdinger in the twelve dimension. The Orks went after the Hobbits again and we needed to step in.” She grinned while giving a mock shudder. “Those Orks are nasty sons of bitches.”
I grinned, enjoying her enthusiasm more than I would have expected. Flick stepped forward and made as if he would hug me too. I quickly stuck my hand out and, looking more relieved than he should have, Flick clasped it.
Silver energy flowed between us and I didn’t even jump. I was starting to wonder if I’d become some kind of receiver since I’d stepped onto celestial soil.
Gus dropped his arm around me and I felt a tiny flutter on my aura. But when I frowned at him he turned to Merriam. “We’re going to the cafeteria. Would you guys like to join us?”
Merriam’s wide face split in a genuine smile. “Meatloaf?” Her aquamarine-colored eyes sparkled with pleasure.
“And lime Jell-O,” Gus added. He urged me forward and Merriam and Flick fell in with us. We headed for an enormous white building in the near distance that was prominently marked with a large sign in golden lettering that said The Last Supper.
I snickered. “Perfect.”
Flick threw me a smile and, on impulse, I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “So what do you do while Merriam fights?”
“I’m on the battlefield too. In the strategy tent.”
“He’s a genius at battle strategy,” Merriam added, giving him a hug.
Flick flushed with embarrassment.
In that moment I realized that the universe truly did work. When Flick and Merriam had found each other, I’d been so busy making fun of him for finally losing his virginity at five-hundred years of age that it never occurred to me they could be well matched. Even Aunt Myra had had her doubts about Merriam’s suitability for Flick. But they’d found their paradise and were making it work.
It gave me hope for Dialle and my future. Though the thought of how he’d looked when I left—the pain contorting his sexy features—made my chest tighten with fear.
“There’s Myra.” Gus lifted a hand and called out and I saw my aunt halt mid-conversation a few yards away and nod in our direction. She touched the other angel she’d been speaking to on the arm and turned away, striding toward us with a stern look on her beautiful face.
“Oh goody.” I felt like a wedding party watching a thundercloud head their way.
Myra walked up to Gus and embraced him. “Hello, old friend.” She reached up and tugged on an orange strand of hair. “I like the hair.”
“Thanks. You don’t think it’s too much?”
Myra laughed. Her clear, blue gaze found me. “How are your sessions going, Astra?”
I glanced at Gus. I was pretty sure they’d been a frunkin’ waste of time so far, but I didn’t want to say it in front of him. “Okay.”
“She thinks they’ve been a waste of time,” Gus offered.
“Hey, are you in my head?”
“In more ways than one, my dear.” Gus laughed at this, a great fan of himself. “But don’t worry, Astra. We’re not done yet.” He glanced at Myra and some kind of internal dialogue must have happened because she suddenly reached for me, grabbing my hand and holding on when I tried to jerk away.
White hot fire burned through me, searing my flesh where it touched Myra’s and then cutting a knife-like swath through my insides. It was like swallowing something that was way too hot and feeling it burn all the way down to your stomach.
“Frunk me to Hades and back, that hurts! What the hell is going on with you people? Why is everybody trying to fry my ass?”
I jerked my hand harder and Myra finally let go.
Gus reached out and touched my shoulder, his dark eyes going blank.
The flutter I’d felt a few minutes earlier returned, only this time it was strong enough to be uncomfortable. “Hey! What are you doing?”
Gus pulled his hand away and grinned. “That one took,” he told Myra.
My aunt expelled air as if she’d been holding it. “Tha
nk Him! So it needs to be family then?”
“It would seem so. It’s a good interim solution, until she figures out how to amp herself up, anyway.”
My temper, never a snake with a long tail, had me trembling at that point. “Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?”
Gus started to put an arm around my shoulders and I jerked away. He dropped his arm with a sigh. “I’m sorry, my dear. You just weren’t relaxed enough in the facility. We thought if we ran this test in more familiar surroundings you might be more receptive.”
“What test?”
“Essentially, Astra, your body has become like a battery. You demonstrate the ability to hold power but you aren’t able to manufacture it yourself—not yet anyway. I’m hopeful we’ll find the key to getting you back to normal eventually. But in the meantime, I thought if we could figure out a way to charge your battery—so to speak—you could at least function normally until we can figure out the rest.”
Hope flared in my breast. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly something I could work with. “How long would the power last once I was…erm…charged?”
Gus shrugged. “We’ll need to run further tests, but let’s take it a step at a time.” He started walking again, toward The Last Supper, seemingly forgetting me and everybody else.
“Wait, what’s the next step? I don’t have a lot of time.”
Gus turned without stopping. “The next step is meatloaf and lime Jell-O. Hurry up. I see a line forming.”
Myra, Flick and Merriam hurried after him.
Oh good Him. I’m surrounded by idiots. Despite my anxiousness and worry, though, I couldn’t stop the smile that tipped the corners of my lips upward. I just might be able to get my magic back.
And that meant I could keep Dialle.
Chapter Four
Old Friends, New Challenges
The Devil you need must first survive, as blackness fills his soul.
For the Devil you need can’t cling to life, when death asserts control.
Hot lips scoured down my throat. Hard hands found my breasts, enveloping them in a near painful grip. I skimmed my hands over a well-toned back and opened my thighs wider, delighting in the stretching fullness of the rigid flesh thrusting between them.