Mr. Clerk showed up not long after William had left. Dark circles underscored his eyes, and once again, his clothes were disheveled. The worst part, however, was the manic look in his eyes. “I’ve got it, Lilith. I’ve finally got it!” He waved a slip of paper over his head like a deranged prophet with a piece of a holy text.
“When’s the last time you slept? You look terrible.”
“I feel wonderful.” He gave an unhinged smile, and I wondered if Miss Spry was pushing him a little too hard. “We finally have him! By this evening, Mr. Fuller will be fully in our camp.”
I hoped he was right. For Mr. Clerk’s sake as much as mine.
I was about to set off for the appointment when my demon reminded me that I had to reshape my body into the tiny version of me that J.T. would recognize from the night before. That was fairly easy. Finding decent clothing was not. I didn’t want to dress in what I’d been wearing the night before, but there was nothing in my closet to fit the new me. I dug around in a box that contained a few clothes that my stepsister had left behind when she moved out. Although Jas was considerably taller, she wore her clothes so tight that they came close to fitting.
Finally ready, I used the otherworld hallways to find the bowling alley where the assignment was to take place. When I arrived, I hesitated. I’d learned my lesson the night before; I couldn’t show up without a good reason. Of all the parts of my job, I’d never expected lying to be the most difficult.
I watched the bowling alley from the safety of the otherworld corridor. It was like standing behind a one-way mirror; I could see everyone, but they couldn’t see me. As I carefully studied the scene, I noticed a harried-looking woman carrying a bouquet of helium balloons, several tote bags full of birthday decorations, and a large cake. She stood by the rental counter, ordering ten children to take off their shoes. Next to her, struggling with an armful of brightly-wrapped presents and a baby stroller, stood the father. Even this early in the party, he looked as ready to collapse as a half-cracked piñata. After several hectic minutes, the kids finally had their bowling shoes, and the parents led them off to a pair of lanes at the far end of the building. But in the chaos, the father had left one of the gifts on the counter.
My demon elbowed me, but I said, “I’m way ahead of you, girl,” and stepped into the bowling alley. In one deft move, I swept the gift under my arm before anyone realized it was missing. Then I headed for J.T.
Mr. Clerk’s plan involved a double play. For phase one, I was to work on J.T. I didn’t care for this part. Tempting Craig was fine, but dragging his friend into the mess seemed cruel even if J.T. was a member of the Militia. For J.T.’s sake, I decided to dampen my succubus and keep things strictly professional.
“Hey, what a surprise,” I said as I approached.
He looked up, and for a moment I wasn’t sure he remembered who I was. Then his vision cleared, and he smiled. “Lilith, right?”
“Good memory.”
I took the seat next to his and put the present on the table. “This is a lucky coincidence! My niece is having her birthday party here today.” I nodded at the hurricane of little kids down at the other end of the bowling alley who were digging through their goodie bags.
His smile deepened. “So you thought you’d sneak away to hang with the adults? Smart lady.” He nodded at the ball return. “I was supposed to meet Craig here, but I guess he’s running late. So how about it? Care to have a quick game? Loser buys a round of beers?”
“You’re on.”
Here’s a little-known fact about Lilith Straight: I’m a good bowler. My dad used to take me to the alley when he played on his church bowling league. I became the team’s mascot and, over the years, had gotten pretty good.
By the fifth frame, it was clear that I was beating the pants off J.T., but he took it with good grace. “I’m the handicap on my team,” he said when his ball veered to the left and went into the gutter for the third time in a row. “It’s a men’s only league, or I’d ask you to join.”
I laughed. “You need a little coaching, that’s all.” The next time he approached the lane, I went along and instructed him on how to straighten his wrist and position himself. Even though I wasn’t touching him, I could hear his heartbeat speed up and smell pheromones. Unfortunately, even though I was doing what I could to dim down my allure, he was eating up my attention.
When I backed away to let him throw, he still landed a gutter ball. When he returned to the table, however, he was grinning. “I would have done better – ” he took my hand “– but I was a little distracted.”
I was caught between my job and reality. I did not want this guy thinking he was in love with me. I’d tried that before with Tommy, and the results had been disastrous. “So tell me more about this Great Lakes Militia group,” I said, gently taking my hand from his.
It was like I’d flipped a switch. Immediately, his expression hardened. “Why? Is this for your newspaper article?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I want to get at the truth. I mean, you don’t seem like a crazy man, and if you’re a part of the militia, then there must be something to it. Something good, I mean.”
He relaxed a little. “There is. It’s mostly about hunting and camping.”
I smiled encouragingly. “What else?”
“Well…” He looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “It’s also about survival. We want to be prepared. In case there’s an emergency.”
“Like World War Three?” I asked playfully.
“Exactly.” He grew serious. “Most people don’t realize how close we are to a worldwide meltdown.”
“How close are we?”
He was quiet for a minute. My ex-husband could ramble on for hours about something as stupid as the best way to slice tofu, but J.T. didn’t waste words. I admired that.
Finally, he said, “Pesticides.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Pesticides. They contribute to CCD. Honeybee Colony Collapse Disorder.” His expression became grim. “The United States alone is losing thirty-five percent of its pollinators a year.”
I’d heard something about the bee thing before, but hadn’t given it much thought. Now, however, seeing J.T.’s concern made me a little anxious. “No pollinators means…”
“…worldwide food shortages.” He frowned at the table. “That’s just one example of what could happen. The government is messing around with diseases. They call it ‘research’, but who knows what the research is for? If someone smuggles a sample out of their labs, we could have an epidemic that clears out half the world’s population.” His frown deepened. “Life’s uncertain, Lilith.”
I didn’t need him to tell me that. Last January, I’d been crossing the street one minute, and a second later had been sitting in Miss Spry’s office while she told me that I was a succubus. My life had been crazy ever since. Still, there’s a fine line between legitimate concern and paranoia, and I couldn’t help but feel that J.T. stood on the wrong side of that line.
At that moment, Craig walked up, carrying a black bowling bag. Ready or not, it was time for phase two.
Just like the last two times I’d met him, my client was surrounded by a wall of suspicion. He took one look at me and J.T., and his gruff expression grew even surlier. Breaking up with his girlfriend had not improved his mood. “What are you doing here?” he asked me.
I forced myself to smile. “Birthday party.” I pointed to where the kids were now singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a little girl wearing a pointed hat.
“Then maybe you need to get down there.” He set his bowling bag on the table between J.T. and me. He looked at J.T. “You ready to bowl or what?”
“There’s no need to be rude to my friend,” J.T. said.
“You’ve known her less than twenty-four hours, and suddenly she’s your friend.”
“So what if she is?” J.T. said. “It isn’t your business one way or the other.”
“Women are trouble,” Craig muttered. He unzipped his bowling bag
and took out his ball. He went to put it in the ball return, but J.T. blocked his way.
“I know that you and Darla are having problems right now,” J.T. said, “but that’s not Lilith’s fault.”
Craig didn’t reply. Instead, he stepped around J.T. and put his ball in the return.
My instructions were to get Craig and J.T. to fight, and from the looks of things, it promised to be an easy job. I only needed to add a little fuel to get that fire blazing.
“We’ve been having a very interesting conversation,” I said. “I learned all kinds of things about you.”
“What kinds of things?” Craig asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“Militia information,” I said. “Like how to be prepared in case of attack.”
Craig glared at his friend. “You had no right telling this bitch about our business.”
Bitch! Furious, I ground my teeth. You know what’s a bitch, Craig? Payback. And he was about to get a huge one, compliments of Miss Spry. Suddenly, I was more eager than ever to do my job.
“Whoa. Hold up.” J.T. put himself between me and Craig. “First off, watch out how you address Lilith.”
Even though I’m a modern woman, I like having guys stand up for me. It appeals to my princess side.
J.T. continued. “Second, I didn’t tell her anything special. Just a little bit about the militia and what we believe in.”
Despite my anger at Craig’s insult, I continued to smile. “It was fascinating stuff. It will make for a great article.”
It was like I’d dropped a match into a box of oily rags. Craig’s face tightened as his temper blazed. He stepped forward, pushing his finger into J.T.’s chest. “What’s the number one rule? No one talks to reporters without permission from the group.”
Trapped, J.T. looked from me to Craig and back again. “Lilith wants to write from our point of view,” he argued. “She agrees with us.”
“I think the Great Lakes Militia makes a lot of sense, and if other people only realized the truth, you’d have more supporters.” Saying those things was like chewing broken glass, but I managed it. “You need public opinion on your side. That’s all.”
I’d hoped this would back Craig off a little. After all, my assignment was to get the two of them to argue, not kill each other. But if anything, my client looked even angrier. “The Great Lakes Militia, huh? I suppose lover boy there didn’t bother to mention that he thinks the Militia has become too mainstream.”
I turned to J.T., shocked. “Seriously?”
J.T. stared Craig down. “What I said was that the Militia is drifting away from their original purpose.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Craig shot back.
My demon elbowed me. Hard.
I looked up just in time to see a teenager with short brown hair and a metal stud in her nose approach our table. Her eyes were brilliantly blue. She looked different from the other two times I’d seen her, but I wasn’t fooled. It was the angel.
Craig and J.T. were so deep into their argument that neither one of them noticed when I left them to intercept the troublemaker. I planted myself directly in her path, my hands on my hips. “You’re too late. I got to him this time.” She tried to step around me, but I used the trick she’d used on me the night before, moving to the side in order to block her. “It’s over. Go home.”
She looked past my shoulder, then gave me a triumphant smile. “Are you sure?”
I turned around. Not only had Craig and J.T. stopped arguing, J.T. was about to throw the first ball of the game. “Shit! How did that happen?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Once your evil influence was gone, they went back to playing nice.”
The two men might have been playing nice, but I was damned if I was going to leave the bowling alley without completing my mission. Angel or no angel.
I started to return to the table, determined to stir up more trouble, but the angel grabbed my shoulder. “Sorry to spoil your fun, but I can’t let you do that.”
I wrestled out of her grip, but the moment I did, she locked her other hand on my wrist, her fingers encircling it like a handcuff. Everyone in the bowling alley was too focused on their games to notice our struggle. I pried the angel’s fingers from my wrist, but she grabbed the strap to my purse.
“Don’t you dare rip that,” I told her. “It’s Gucci!”
“What’s with Hell and designer labels?” she asked through gritted teeth. “I sometimes wonder if Patrick defected because of the clothes.”
Patrick? Patrick as in Mr. Clerk?
My surprise made me pause, giving her another opportunity. She let go of my bag and got my elbow, twisting it behind me hard enough to make me gasp. Who knew angels could fight so dirty?
She pulled me backwards, throwing me off balance. She was determined, but so was I. Frantically, I yanked back, gaining a little headway. I might have made it over to Craig and J.T. if I’d tried. But tempting Craig would have been impossible while I had an angel fastened to my arm. I needed to get rid of her. Do something, I told my demon. Give me a distraction. Something!
The demon suggested that I drag the angel out into the parking lot and beat the crap out of her. As much as I liked that idea, I wasn’t sure that I could take her down.
Something at the other end of the alley caught my eye. One of the kids from the birthday party, a little, brown-haired boy, had taken his goodie bag to a nice, quiet spot where he could eat his candy in peace. He sat between a rack of bowling balls and the drinking fountain, hidden from everyone but me. I could see everything, right down to his bulging eyes and gaping mouth.
“I think that boy’s choking!” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but I did. The angel’s eyes widened, and she glanced from me to the little boy in trouble and then back to me again.
“We have to help him,” I said, alarmed. The boy was panicking, clawing at the collar of his polo shirt. “Let go of me!” I wanted to get over there and rescue him, but the angel weighed me down like an anchor. I couldn’t even get to my cell phone to call 911. “Seriously! Do you want that kid to die?”
“That’s a really dirty trick, Lilith Straight!”
“What are you talking about? That little boy is going to die if we don’t help him.”
The angel hung on an instant longer, and I was sure she would take me down rather than save the child. But then she let go. Glaring at me, she raced to the other side of the building. She picked up the child and used the Heimlich to send a piece of hard candy flying from his mouth and into the air. The mother finally noticed and shouted, “Oh, my God, Calvin?!”
I rubbed my arm as I watched. To my relief, the look of distress left the boy’s face as he began to breathe. Maybe guardian angels were worth something after all.
“There you are.” J.T. came up behind me.
“That little boy was choking,” I said.
“Looks like he’s going to be all right,” J.T. said.
I couldn’t take my eyes from the child. “I hope so.”
“J.T., you’re up,” Craig called from the ball return. He glared at me, upset that I was interrupting the game.
“In a minute,” J.T. said irritably.
I wondered how much more trouble I needed to stir up between the two of them. They hadn’t gotten into a full-out battle, but they had argued and were now annoyed with each other. Technically, my job was complete. Yet, I felt that I’d missed the mark. I’d done all the right things, but somehow, the angel’s presence had altered the situation. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be getting my reward from Miss Spry.
It was time to have a few words with that angel.
“I better get back to the party,” I said.
“Can I call you sometime?” J.T. asked.
The hopeful, puppy-dog look in his eyes broke my heart, but that wasn’t the reason I gave him my number. I had to keep the lines of communication open. I hated using J.T., but it was the only way to stay connected to my client. I couldn’t let another opp
ortunity to tempt Craig slip past me.
After we exchanged numbers, I grabbed the birthday present I’d borrowed and hustled down to the other end of the building. I tossed the gift on the table with the others and approached the angel who was watching the boy being hugged by his mother. The angel gave me a final glare before disappearing through a foreign doorway.
I followed her.
I knew right away that I was in the wrong end of the universe. The place was nothing like the otherworld hallways I’d been using. In fact, it wasn’t a hallway at all. It was an outdoor path that led between trees that stretched as tall as skyscrapers. Here and there, shafts of sunlight stabbed through the gloom. From far away came a few notes of birdsong. Otherwise, it was completely still.
Until the angel started yelling at me.
“How did you get through the doorway?” she demanded. “Demons are not allowed into Heaven!” Like me, she’d been using a disguise at the bowling alley, and in the otherworld, her true form revealed itself. She looked to be my age. Her bright blue eyes stood in stark contrast to her tanned skin, and her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. “Demons can’t come into our areas any more than angels can go to…well, wherever it is that you go.” She’d gone from angry to puzzled, and she bit her lip, thinking.
“I’ve been to Heaven before,” I argued. Although, looking around, I wasn’t sure. This place looked and felt much different from what I remembered. When I’d met Jesus, I’d visited a log cabin standing on an endless prairie. And unlike last time, my demon was putting up a fight. She hadn’t been bothered by my previous visit, but now she frantically urged me to return to the bowling alley.
I wasn’t about to leave until I’d spoken my piece, however. William had told me that seducing angels was the best strategy, but I hoped this one would listen to reason. “I need a favor. I want you to let me tempt Craig.”
She gaped at me. “Are you kidding? I can’t do that!”
“I’m not asking for me,” I pleaded. “I’m asking for my daughter. If I win Craig over, then my demon overlord will amend my contract so that my daughter won’t have to become a succubus.” I considered getting to my knees and hugging her ankles. “I’m desperate.”
Straight to Heaven Page 8