Blessed Death

by Amy Sumida

  We passed rustic rooms with soft carpets covering hardwood floors, and fireplaces crackling with merry warmth. Tall windows let in the light of Heaven, but it was so much softer within the Throne. The scent of fresh baked bread permeated the entire place, and I immediately wondered who Jerry's baker was. Did a special angel bake God's daily bread, or did Jerry himself get his hands doughy?

  I was so stunned—and so consumed by thoughts of baked goods—that I didn't notice we had stopped, and I walked into Odin's back. Re steadied me from behind, but no one said a word. They were too focused on the room before us; where Jerry and one of his angels were having a heated conversation.

  “What do you mean; you don't know?” Jerry raged; sloshing some of his wine out of his goblet. “We have to discover who is riling up the angels against that bastard child of my wife's.”

  I could feel Luke's tension from where I stood, but the Devil kept his mouth shut. Luke—ironically—had the patience of a saint.

  “I'm sorry,” the angel said, “but the parchment the Virtues received doesn't have any traces left on it for me to follow.”

  “Well, we know that I didn't send it,” Jerry growled. “So, that's one option down.”

  “Perhaps Lucifer?” The angel suggested.

  “That fool would cut off his arm before he put his precious son in danger,” Jerry hissed. “And his demons are more loyal than hell hounds. It's one of ours; I'm certain of it. And I'm really fucking tired of my own people betraying me.”

  “They probably don't see it that way,” the angel said gently. “They might believe they're being loyal by taking this opportunity to eliminate the bastard Death.”

  “This is not loyalty!” Jerry raged. “Luke will bring Hell to Heaven again if this continues; not to mention the allies he's accumulated. We'll be wiped out; all of Heaven destroyed.”

  “Lucifer wouldn't dare destroy the Seventh Heaven,” the angel scoffed.

  “He wouldn't have to destroy the territory,” Jerry snarled. “He could kill all of us, reclaim it, and then reform it into whatever he wished.”

  The angel went pale. “What should we do?”

  “Notify the Host that any strike against the Angel of Death—be he retired or not—is not condoned by God,” Jerry said. “And set a watch over that fucking bastard. Make sure none of our angels go after him. If they do, apprehend them and bring them to me immediately.”

  “Yes, Sire!” The angel started to stride to the door.

  We all lurched out of his way.

  “And Remiel,” Jerry stopped the angel.

  “Yes?”

  “Send word to Lucifer; I want a meeting.”

  “You what?”

  “You heard me!” Jerry roared. “Get that no good, son of a whore into Heaven right away!”

  “Yes, Sire!” Remiel rushed out of the room as we flattened ourselves against the walls.

  After a few seconds, we reached out and clasped hands again. I tried to walk away, but was pulled back in place.

  “Wait,” Odin whispered.

  We all waited and watched Jerry carefully. Odin was right; it could have all been a show for Remiel. But all Jerry did was curse and drink more. We finally gave up and got the hell out of Heaven.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “It's not Jerry?” Azrael asked in surprise. “Seriously?”

  “Is that really so shocking?” I countered. “He's more of the reacting type than the acting.”

  Azrael grimaced and nodded. “You're right; it would have been more shocking if it had been him.”

  “It could still be Jerry,” Luke said. “I think it was a little too convenient that we happened to walk in at just the right moment to overhear that particular conversation.”

  “True,” I murmured. “You think it was all an act?”

  “Possibly.” Luke frowned. “But that would mean that Jerry would have to know that I was planning to sneak into Heaven, and I didn't even know I'd be doing so until right before we were heading to Hell.”

  “Jerry doesn't have that good of a spy network,” Michael said. “If you heard him saying that it wasn't him, it's ninety-nine percent likely that it was the truth.”

  “What about the other point-zero-one percent?” I asked.

  “The only other option is that Jerry ordered the attack while he was drunk and doesn't remember,” Mike said with a grimace. “That's what happened with Abraham. We had to rush down and stop the guy from killing his own son when Jerry sobered up and realized what he'd done.”

  “That's horrifying,” I muttered.

  “You're telling me,” Mike huffed. “At least we reached him in time. That guy was a fucking zealot; he was lifting the knife to his son's throat when we arrived.”

  “It's unbelievable what people will do for their gods,” I murmured.

  “So, it was probably a genuine conversation,” Thor got us back on track.

  “Most likely,” Luke agreed. “And I should be receiving an invitation soon.”

  “An invitation?” Holly asked.

  “Jerry instructed Remiel to bring me to Heaven for a meeting.” Luke smirked. “Jerry's terrified; he thinks I'll invade Heaven again and destroy everyone within it so I can reclaim it for myself.”

  “Reclaim?” Holly asked. “It's still yours; you just let Jerry live there.”

  “I know,” Luke said smugly, “and I shall remind Jerry of that fact when we're face to face.”

  “I don't think you should go.” Holly frowned in concern. “It gains you nothing while it puts you at risk.”

  “Good point,” Luke agreed. “I'll offer to speak with him, just not in person.”

  “Okay; I can live with that.” Holly nodded.

  “And I was also able to speak with the Seraphim,” Luke added with a surprisingly friendly look at Michael. “Mike watched my back while I did.”

  “Oh, how are they?” Holly said sweetly. “Those poor things.”

  “They're good,” Luke assured her. “And although they don't know anything yet, they've promised to send word if they learn something helpful.”

  “That's my boys,” Holly said with a smile.

  “Jerry mentioned a parchment that was sent to the Virtues; instructing them to attack Azrael by Jerry's command,” Odin said. “Jerry said it didn't come from him, but Remiel wasn't able to track the sender.”

  “A parchment?” Michael asked. “So, either a powerful angel is working behind Jerry's back, or a god outside of the Pantheon was able to sneak into Heaven without leaving any trace of himself behind.”

  “The latter is unlikely,” Luke murmured. “It must be an archangel.”

  Michael looked uncomfortable.

  “Just like the last time,” Azrael growled. “And just like the last time, I shall obliterate him.”

  “Or her, dear,” Holly said. “There are female angels. You musn't be sexist.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Azrael said dutifully. “I shall obliterate him or her.”

  “Better,” Holly the Holy Spirit smiled proudly at her son.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cid had returned to Hell instead of joining us at Pride Palace, but only because Luke was expecting Remiel to send an invitation there. Sure enough, it came within the hour, and Cid traced back to Pride Palace to hand Lucifer an envelope sealed with a gold wax emblem of angelic script. The script was a single symbol that looked similar to the one on Azrael's and Michael's cheeks. All angels had their names set into their skin somewhere; usually on their face. It looked as if they also used those symbols to seal their letters.

  “You've got mail,” Cid said.

  “Thanks.” Luke cracked open the seal. He perused the letter and chuckled. “He's such an ass.”

  Luke handed the letter to Cid, and the demon looked it over.

  “He summoned you?” Cid burst out laughing. “Remy has always been a little dense, but this takes the angel cake.”

  Luke took the letter back and pulled a pen out of his coat pocket. He
wrote across the paper in big letters; Fuck you. Then he folded it up, put it back in its envelope, and handed it to Cid once more. Cid blew over the wax and remelted it with his demon breath then placed it on the table for Luke to set his signet ring in. When Luke removed his hand, the emblem in the wax had changed to another name in angelic script; I assumed it was Lucifer's. Cid scooped up the resealed letter and headed out.

  “I'll make sure Jerry gets this himself, Boss,” Cid called back over his shoulder.

  “He may punish Remiel,” Michael murmured.

  “Perhaps,” Luke agreed. “But Jerry has ever been an idiot when it comes to knowing his own people. Since it seems as if he isn't the one behind this, I'm doing him a favor and pointing out a problem.”

  Michael frowned deeper but didn't say anything.

  It only took a few minutes for Lucifer's “pointing” to reach Jerry. Holly's cell phone chimed, and she pulled it out of her Valentino handbag in surprise. Her eyes widened further when she read her text.

  “It's Jerry,” Holly said. “He says that he wants you to know that he didn't word the letter himself, and it was intended to be a respectful invitation.”

  Luke laughed his ass off.

  “Lucifer!” Holly hissed.

  “It's funny,” Luke huffed.

  “Try to behave,” Holly chided.

  “Sweetheart,” Luke said gently. “That poopy pants called our son and myself some horrible names. He may have intended for it to be respectful, but he didn't want it to be.”

  “What names?” Holly went still.

  “The B word,” Satan whispered.

  “Jerry called Az a bitch?” Trevor asked in confusion.

  “No; the other B word. He called him a bastard,” Cid whispered.

  “What?” Holly roared.

  “And he called me a no good, son of a...” Luke dropped his voice to a whisper, “whore.”

  “What?!” Holly stood up and started typing furiously on her phone. “That is not acceptable.”

  “Holly.” Luke got up too; his expression worried. “Don't do anything rash. I need to speak to him and it would be best if I could do so civilly.”

  “Fuck him!” Holly shouted. “That filthy piece of Atlantean shit!”

  We all went silent and stared at Holly with widening eyes.

  “No one calls my husband and son such things,” Holly went on. “You are ten times the man he is.”

  “Holly,” Luke said gently as he took her phone. “He's called me far worse; they're just words. The loser takes comfort in cursing the winner; that is simply the way of things.”

  “It doesn't bother me, Mom,” Azrael added. “'Bastard' is a term that is more insulting to humans than Atlanteans. We don't care whether a child is born within wedlock or not.”

  “But still.” Holly pouted. “I don't like it.”

  “Yell at him later,” Luke suggested as he erased Holly's text. “After we find out who's behind these attacks.”

  “Okay.” Holly deflated. “You're right. What should I text him now?”

  “I got it, my love,” Luke said as he texted Jerry. “I'm telling him to head into the Human Realm, as I will be doing, and I will call him from your phone.”

  “I'm going with you,” Holly said.

  “Of course you are.” Luke hugged her. “We'll make a day of it. So, where would you like to go for lunch?”

  “Oh.” She brightened. “Let's go to that place in Tuscany.”

  “The one near the vineyard?” Luke asked.

  “Yes; I love their cacio e pepe.”

  “And I love watching you eat it,” Satan teased his wife as they headed out of the dining hall.

  “Dad?” Azrael called after them.

  “We'll be back after lunch, Son,” Luke said. “Why don't you get something to eat yourself?” He stopped and pointed at Azrael. “But don't leave the territory.”

  Azrael grimaced as he fell back into his chair.

  “Sounds like Death has been grounded,” I teased him.

  “My life is hell,” Death declared.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We had a nice lunch with all of the Squad and some of my lions. The Pride was more than willing to defend Azrael, but they were more the “Just tell me who to kill” type. Most of them didn't need, or even want, to be a part of the investigation. After lunch, Azrael had a private meeting with Michael, and then Michael left; saying that he had a few calls to make.

  While the Morningstars were gone, we brainstormed. The Archangels were at the top of the Anti-Azrael list, but we weren't going to limit ourselves to the Heavenly Host. We began to go over all of the gods who had enough knowledge, power, and—most importantly—the motivation to instigate an angelic attack on Azrael. Most of the names we came up with were my enemies, and most of the Squad—myself included—thought that this felt more personal. Yes, hurting Azrael would hurt me, but there were far easier ways to go about it than inciting angelic rage. This was deliberate.

  “We need to find a concrete motive, and then we can work from there,” Blue said. “Find the reason and we can trace it to the mind who possesses it.”

  “So, why would anyone want to hurt Azrael?” I asked.

  “Well, we've already established the motive of hurting you,” Thor said. “Then there are his parents. But if we look at this purely as an attack on Azrael—vengeance for something he has done—then there is only one reason I can see for why another god would want to hurt him.”

  “His retirement,” Odin said.

  Thor nodded. “So, who—besides the Archangels—would be angered by a reaper retiring?”

  “Other reapers,” Torrent whispered.

  “Well, my daughter is obviously off the suspect list,” Hades said. “Not only did she meet with Azrael specifically to help him, but she also fought off his attackers with him.”

  “Of course she's not on the list,” I said immediately. “Her parentage alone speaks on her behalf.”

  “Thank you, Vervain,” Hades said softly.

  “But there are numerous death deities besides Macaria,” Artemis said. “In the Greek Pantheon alone, there is Thanatos and the Keres.”

  “The Aztec Pantheon abounds with death gods,” Eztli added.

  “So does the Hindu,” Torrent said. “And—”

  “Hold!” Thor held up his hand. “Before we get into the death deities, let's focus on reapers. Death gods won't be affected by Azrael's retirement, but other reapers might be. So, who would be the most affected by his particular retirement? Who would have to pick up the slack, as it were?”

  “I collect the souls of Christians, Jews, and Muslims,” Azrael said. “But no one is picking up my slack; the souls pass on by themselves now.”

  “Okay, so it isn't a case of increased workload,” Thor murmured as he looked at his father.

  Odin shook his head. “It would have to be pride; a god who is offended that a reaper would abandon his duties.”

  “But other reapers have done this,” I pointed out. “Macaria, for one.”

  “Well, technically she didn't retire,” Hades said with a thoughtful frown. “Belief in the old ways has waned and on top of that, Mac only collects the souls destined for the Elysian Fields or the Blessed Isles. To enter Elysium, the soul must be heroic or virtuous, and to get to the Isles of the Blessed, a soul must have been sent to Elysium first, but choose to be reborn—three times—after the fourth return, if they are still pure, they go to the Blessed Isles.”

  “Goddess of Blessed Death,” I murmured. “I get it now.”

  “That's a hell of a standard,” Odin said.

  “And the reason why Mac has a lot of free time on her hands,” Persephone said.

  “Have there been other reapers who have retired?” I asked.

  The God Squad looked around the table at each other and then shook their heads.

  “I believe Azrael is the first,” Odin answered for the group.

  “So, we're back to reapers and death
deities,” Thor muttered.

  “Sooka sin,” Kirill hissed.

  “What kind of sin?” I asked.

  “It means; Son of a bitch,” Torrent translated.

  “Sooka sin,” I repeated.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke and Holly returned with the expected news: Jerry assured Luke that he wasn't behind the attack on Azrael, and he would do everything he could to make sure that no future attacks occurred. Luke added that Jerry must have been terrified because he had been on his best behavior.

  But we still had no idea who was manipulating the Host. It could be an Archangel or it could be a god associated with death; reaper or otherwise. The list was way too long to even start investigating.

  Brahma, Sarasvati, and Karni-Mata returned shortly after the Morningstars, and they reported that the Hindu Pantheon was about as concerned over Dvārakā rising as Krishna was. They simply couldn't conceive of a god outsmarting any of them. That whole saying about pride going before a fall? Hopefully it wouldn't come before a rise as well.

  We had done all we could; we had warned the Hindus, spoken to Jerry, and found all the information we were going to find in one night. At least Azrael was safe within my territory. Shehaquim was a shared territory; which meant that any members of the pantheon could enter it. Which meant that Az wouldn't be heading there for awhile. The Angel of Death was grounded again. So, we went to bed; Toby went home, and Re went back to Sekhmet's place in Dwarka.

  To make up for Azrael being stuck in Pride Palace, my husbands gave up our scheduled rotation, and Az got a night alone with me. After releasing our pent-up aggression—multiple times—we fell asleep in each others arms. The reprieve felt brief, and morning came all too soon. Sunshine filtered in through the gauzy curtains; pulling me slowly from my dreams. I stared across an expanse of muscled, angel chest and smiled; until I remembered the danger that chest—and the rest of Azrael—was in.