by Мишель Роуэн
She watched with growing horror as the mugger’s eyes began to bug out, his face turning an unpleasant shade of purple under the street lamp. His feet raised off the ground so the only thing holding him up were Nathaniel’s crushing hands. He began to twitch.
“Stop it,” Val said softly, but she was ignored, the demon’s attention now focused on his new entertainment.
She walked toward them. “Stop it!”
Nathaniel frowned. “Why should I? He’s scum. He deserves to die.”
“Let him go. I mean it.”
One thing she remembered from being an angel was the knowledge that every human life was precious. Everyone deserved a chance to change. She frankly didn’t care what her attacker had tried to do. She didn’t care what kind of a person he was, she wasn’t going to stand by and let Nathaniel murder him just to prove a point.
She clawed at Nathaniel’s hands, then balled her fist to hit him hard in the shoulder. “Let him go!” she yelled.
“You truly want me to let him go?” Nathaniel’s amusement at her feeble attempts to stop him was obvious.
“What are you, deaf? Yes!”
“Very well.”
The demon threw the mugger to the ground. He stayed on his knees for a moment, relearning how to breathe, then glanced up at them, the fear naked on his face.
“Leave my friend alone,” Nathaniel said. “Or I’ll find you and finish what I started here.”
The man blinked a couple of times, then scrambled to his feet, backing slowly out of the alley while nodding like a lunatic. Then he turned and scampered away.
Nathaniel looked at Val and smiled.
She didn’t return the expression. “I’m not your friend.”
“I let him go, just as you wished.”
“It wasn’t a wish, it was a request. Now I request, yet again, that you leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that, I’m afraid.”
“Why not?” She felt so frustrated with the situation that her eyes filled with tears.
He hesitated for a split second. “I . . . I just can’t. And you’re wasting your breath in asking, so you may as well stop.” He stepped toward her and managed to capture her in his gaze again. Even with the knowledge that he was a dangerous demon assigned to lure her to Hell, she couldn’t resist staring into those gorgeous eyes.
Helpless.
Afraid.
Ever so slightly turned on.
No, scratch that, she thought. Just the first two.
“I’m going back to Heaven,” she said firmly.
“No you’re not. You’re going to be with me. I’m going to take you to a place that can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t be fooled by what you’ve heard. It’s wonderful, really.” He pressed her up against the wall, his body a hot line against her own. “Just say the word, little angel.”
Not good. Not good at all.
She sniffed. “I do need to tell you something . . . Nathaniel.”
“Yes? I’m listening.”
“I’m . . . I think I’m going to sneeze again.”
He took an immediate step back, letting go of her completely.
But there was no sneeze. She didn’t like to lie if she could help it, but in this case she was willing to let it pass.
Nathaniel looked very confused, then fixed her with a small scowl. “You don’t have to make this so difficult, you know.”
“Neither do you. You can just move on. Leave me be. I’m sure there are others for you to tempt.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand this. You should already be mine.”
“No, I shouldn’t be.”
He frowned at her. “This isn’t over, you know. I’ll be back.”
“I won’t be here.”
He gave her a smile that looked forced, since the frown still furrowed his otherwise perfect forehead. “Oh, yes you will be. See you soon, Valerie Grace.”
Then he vanished in a column of flame.
She scooted over to pick up her dropped bag of NyQuil and clutched it tightly to her chest as she stood all alone in the alley for a moment. She knew he wasn’t lying. He’d be back. She had a suspicion that demons never gave up easily. If they failed on an assignment, there would probably be hell to pay.
Hell to pay. She was so funny.
She laughed until it turned into sobs that echoed softly off the cold brick walls.
Heaven had to take her back. She didn’t want to have to face Nathaniel ever again.
“What do you mean I can’t come back?” Val wailed.
“What part of ‘you can’t come back’ don’t you understand?”
The voice was small, girlish and childlike, but it spoke in a commanding, matter-of-fact manner.
“But—”
“The answer is final.”
Val stared at the child psychic, through whom she was speaking to an angel by the name of
Garry—assistant guardian to the gates of Heaven. He did most of the PR work Up There.
They were acquaintances. Friends even. They’d, at times, commiserated about their Heavenly jobs. Garry usually complained that he was still only the “assistant” guardian after an eternity of doing the same job. Val simply listened and smiled. That’s why she was thrilled that he was the one Seraphina ended up channeling. But now he spoke to her in a condescending, businesslike manner, very unlike the way a friend should sound.
Maybe the memory of her relationship with Garry was faulty, she thought. Lately her memories had been faulty a lot, and were fading quicker than she ever would have expected.
She was depending on her notes to see her through this until things went back to normal.
And her chance to get back to normal was right here, sitting cross-legged in front of her.
The nine-year-old psychic wore a pink Powerpuff Girls T-shirt on top of blue jeans that had little daisies embroidered on the pockets. Her blond hair was done in perfect ringlets. She sucked on a lollipop—purple for grape-flavored—before the lights had dimmed and she’d gone into her white-eyeballed trance.
Up until then Val wasn’t sure this was all for real. But the white-eyeballed thing would be pretty hard to fake.
The office they sat in was more like a lounge, if a child had designed it with a very high budget. A big screen TV sat opposite them hooked up to several high-end video game players.
The couch Val sat on looked like a large fluffy pink flower. The carpeting was white and pink and green, with swirls and dots. The air freshener smelled like licorice.
Despite the odd surroundings, there was no doubt she was talking to Garry. Val’s memory was iffy, but she felt certain it was him. The question was, why was he giving her such a hard time?
“Garry,” she leaned over so her gaze was in line with Seraphina’s white eyeballs. “Come on.
We’re buddies, right?” She waited for confirmation but there was nothing. “There’s got to be something you can do.”
“There isn’t.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong!”
The eyeballs blinked. “Really? Is that what you think?”
“Of course.”
The eyeballs shifted back and forth as if the little girl were reading something. “No, the scrollwork is all in order. You were kicked out for a very good reason, Valerie. A very good reason indeed.”
This news felt like a slap in the face. “What? What did I do? Whatever it was, I’m sure it was just an accident.”
The eyeballs rolled. “This was no accident.”
“What was it?”
“Okay”—a corner of Seraphina’s rosebud mouth twisted up—“I’ll give you a hint. There are seven of them, and you’re guilty of one. A big one.”
She shook her head, which had started to throb. “Seven? Seven what?”
“Come on. You know this.”
“Stop playing games with me, Garry. I mean it.”
“Seven . . . sev . . . ” Garry sighed when she didn’t immediately pick up on his verb
al clues.
“Gosh, Valerie, you used to be way brighter than this. Being human really dumbs you up, doesn’t it? Seven deadly sins. You know, the Big Seven?”
Her mouth dropped open. “But an angel can’t commit a deadly sin or they’re . . .”
“Uh-huh. Bingo.”
She racked her brain. A deadly sin? Her? Impossible. “Which one?”
“I’ll give you another clue.”
“Garry, this is getting annoying. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep this channel open and I need you to—”
“It starts with a P.” Seraphina grinned perfect little white teeth.
“P?” Val thought about that, and ticked off the sins one by one in her mind. Not greed, or gluttony, or sloth . . . she certainly kept busy enough Up There to not be accused of laziness . .
. not wrath or envy . . . not lust . . .
She paused on that one. No, she hadn’t met Nathaniel until after she’d fallen.
But that was beside the point.
“Pride?” she finally said. “Are you kidding me?”
Seraphina nodded her head and her flaxen curls bounced jauntily. “You got it. But being that it’s the only P sin on the list, it was a bit of a gimme.”
“Pride?” she repeated, incredulously.
“You know what they say about pride, don’t you Val?”
She shook her head, feeling numb.
“It comes before a fall. Get it? A fall?”
Val wondered, if she wrapped her hands around the little girl’s neck, would Garry feel it in
Heaven? She managed to restrain herself.
“Yes,” Garry continued after he’d finished chuckling at his less-than-amusing joke.
“According to your file, the pride you felt doing your angel duties, especially after winning the angel-of-the-month award a while back, was enough to get you tossed. Sorry, I’m just reporting what it says here.”
Her notebook was out on her lap and she jotted down what he was saying. “I really won the angel-of-the-month award?”
He sighed. “Yes. I can’t believe that you don’t remember that. You went on and on about it for ages.”
“And what exactly did I do again? My job?”
A heavier sigh now. “After the humans came through the gate and finished with me, you showed them around Heaven. Made them feel welcome. Listened to the stories of their lives without looking too bored.”
She nodded as she listened and wrote. She remembered that. She’d always found it interesting, fascinating even to meet her assignments and help them adjust to their new and perfect afterlives—and more than happy that she hadn’t had to live on Earth as a human, too, after hearing their stories—but to say she took pride in it . . .
Well, she did feel she did a very good job. And, hello? Angel-of-the-month award?
But, was that pride?
Geesh. It wasn’t like wrath, or anything. Pride was such a tiny little deadly sin. Barely even worth noticing. Hardly something to warrant such a miserable punishment.
“It’s not all that bad,” Garry’s words cut through her thoughts. “You’ve always seemed so enamored by the humans, interested in the lives they’d lived . . .”
“It doesn’t mean I wanted to become one,” she cut him off. “Like, ever.”
“Well, you should have thought about that before the whole pride thing.”
“Garry,” she said, and hated that there was a distinct whine to her voice now. “You have to do something. If I was too proud I’ll make up for it. I don’t want to be human. It’s horrible. You have no idea what it’s like down here. It’s rainy, miserable, desperate. I’m sick, too. There’s phlegm. There’s no phlegm in Heaven. Phlegm is a very bad thing. And . . . and I’m scared.
Garry, I’m so scared and lonely and—” She broke off.
And there’s a really hot demon who wants to add me to his collection.
Seraphina pursed her little lips and Garry spoke. “There’s nothing I can do. The scroll’s official.”
She frowned. “Has anyone been keeping track of my good deeds? It’s not just to kiss up, either. I’m like a machine of goodness. That old lady I helped cross the street the other day?
That should be worth something. I still have the bruise from where she hit me with her cane.
But she made it to the other side in one piece and that was a very busy road! And, come on, the whole killer whale tank thing? Was that your idea? I won’t hold a grudge, I promise!”
“There are worse punishments than being human, you know.”
She sighed. Her words were wasted on him. “Easy for you to say.”
“Hey, maybe in seventy years when you’ve helped enough old ladies across the street you might be forgiven. When you, you know, die. Other than that, I’m not seeing any other way for you to get back here.”
“This is not helping. I want to speak to the boss. Is he available? Can somebody get him?”
Seraphina’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? He is very busy, you know. Besides, speaking to fallen ones is not something He would be interested in doing. Ever.”
“Can’t you just make an exception? For me?”
“No way. Not a chance. Look, Val, got to go. No offense, but I can’t spend all day talking to a fallen one. My review’s coming up.” Seraphina’s eyes began to close.
“Wait . . . Garry, please . . .”
Her eyes snapped back open. “Yes?”
Valerie sniffed, and it wasn’t from only the head cold anymore. Her eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. “Please, there’s a Tempter Demon after me. He wants to lure me to Hell.
You have to help me. How can I make him leave me alone?”
A grin spread across her face. “A Tempter? For real? I’ve heard stories, and all, but never seen one. Is it true that they’re incredibly good-looking?”
“Garry!”
“Sorry. Look, here’s the drill. Demons exist for the same reason angels exist—to maintain the balance between good and evil. I can’t do anything about it. Nobody can. It’s all up to you to resist this demon no matter what he tells you. Do so and he’ll eventually give up.” Seraphina blinked. “Although, it’s just a theory.”
Val pressed her lips together, hard. She wanted to beg, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was about to say something else, anything else to keep the connection between her and Garry open, but Seraphina closed her eyes and she knew that was it. It was over.
She exhaled, a long shuddering sound.
Seraphina blinked her clear blue eyes, shaking the remainder of her trance away.
“Thirsty!” she yelled.
The door opened, casting a beam of light into her eyes, which had become accustomed to the darkened room. The silhouette of Becky, Seraphina’s redheaded, business-suited assistant entered, carrying a can of 7Up with a pink bendy straw. She handed it to the little girl who snatched it away and took a sip. Becky glanced at Val.
“I trust everything went well?”
It was thanks to Becky—though perhaps thanks wasn’t the right word—that she’d been able to make her appointment with the highly booked child psychic. Appointments with Seraphina had a four-month waiting list. She’d met Becky through her brother, Brian—an amateur wizard who owned a local comic book store where she’d gone to buy an issue of Batman after liking the television show so much. He’d taken an immediate liking to her. Kind of like when a dog takes a liking to someone’s leg, as she’d witnessed happen to poor Reggie the other day just outside of the motel. But Brian was fairly harmless, and his sister just happened to work for Seraphina. Opportunity presenting itself in mysterious and, in this case, geeky ways.
Val stood on shaky legs and tried to give Becky an equally shaky smile. “Not as well as I hoped it would.”
“That’s too bad.” Becky glanced at the girl with a look that could only be described as fearful.
“I’m so sorry. Was she being difficult?”
“No, she’s very good.
It’s just that—”
“You,” Seraphina said.
They looked at her.
“You.” Seraphina nodded at Becky.
She forced a smile. “Yes?”
Seraphina held up the can of pop in her tiny hand. Her fingernails were painted bright pink.
“This isn’t diet. I wanted diet.”
Becky sighed. “But, you don’t need diet. You’re not on a diet.”
The little girl narrowed her blue eyes. “Are you arguing with me?”
“No. I’m just saying that—”
“I want diet.” She stamped her foot. “Get me a Diet 7Up now.”
Becky shrugged at Val. “Duty calls.”
“NOW!!”
She practically jumped as Seraphina shoved the full can of pop at her and, without another word, scurried out of the room. Val turned her wide-eyed gaze toward the little girl whom she decided just might be related to Lucifer himself.
Seraphina smiled up at her. “You’re an angel.”
Val’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“An angel.” She plunked her Powerpuff Girls-attired self down on the plush sofa in the middle of the room. “But you’re not anymore. I have an angel Barbie doll, you know.”
“You know I’m an angel?”
“My Barbie has big wings. White ones. With sparkles.”
“How do you know I’m an angel? Did you hear everything I said to Garry?”
“Who’s Garry?” She scratched her arm absently.
Val crouched down in front of the girl. “This is wonderful! I haven’t been able to tell anyone else, you know, because they’d think I’m nuts. But for you to know I’m an angel—I feel so relieved that somebody knows. This is so wonderful! What do you know about angels? Can you help me out? Do you know how I can go back to Heaven?”
“What color were your wings?”
Val frowned and grabbed her notebook, shuffling through the pages for a moment. “Actually, I don’t think I had wings. Nope”—she tapped the page where she’d written “No Wings”—“I didn’t.”
She looked disappointed. “Why not?”
