His Grace

by Aya DeAniege

  I could sink into these sorts of comforts.

  Grace had recognized the drink, which the bartender laughed over because many of our drinks were named after parts of the Heavenly Host. The drink Grace had recognized shared her name.

  She must have seen someone sipping the cocktail on one of her visits.

  But there was a nagging at the back of my mind.

  While she filled out paperwork, I slipped into the back office and locked the door. Settling into the chair behind the desk, I brought up a mantra on my phone and set it to repeat. The sound wasn’t necessary, but because of the mantra, if the sound in the office changed, I would be alerted immediately.

  Outwardly, it would appear that I was sleeping, that was all.

  I left my physical form behind and found myself wading through the turmoil that was any human city. The flow was completely normal.

  Typically, when a number of demons were found in one area, they caused distortions in the emotional aura of a city.

  That lack of change told me that someone didn’t want us knowing that they were in town.

  I stepped into the smoldering crater that was the restaurant that Grace had worked at the night before. Looking over the charred remains, I turned to Michael as he adjusted his wings and raised his hands to show me that they were empty.

  The wings should have been away. A human walking through our wings would have a euphoric flash that was near to a religious experience.

  Michael only had his wings out because he was getting ready to bolt. I may have had the most power, but I flew at half the speed of the others. He was still prepared for a fight.

  “Did it succeed in getting a foothold in the world?” I asked.

  “It had already been here, that’s why you didn’t feel it,” Michael said. “I believe the identification would be Bifrons. He should have sent his legions up ahead of him, but he came by himself.”

  I made a sound at the back of my throat.

  At the flutter of wings, I turned. Raphael landed lightly beside me.

  We only needed one wing to fly in the astral plane. An angel of Heaven really only needed one feather to fly. Raphael had always restricted himself to one or two sets of wings, depending on how much of his power he was using.

  He was the only one of the other three to restrict his wings. I had to wonder if he was doing it to try to make me feel less out of place.

  I didn’t want to talk about my wings, or what had happened to me. I didn’t even want to think about it, but every time we were in the astral plane, I was reminded because of the wings of the others.

  “The devil did not attempt to possess another body. Several dead, but no demons. Not here, not for blocks around. It has been a while since we all walked this plane, we may have scared them off.”

  “I doubt it,” I said as I crouched. “There was a fly in my car yesterday.”

  “One fly is just a fly,” Michael said. “A cloud of flies, that’s a problem.”

  “A column of them moving like a tornado,” Raphael muttered. “One in your car is just bad luck.”

  “In the new world?” I asked. “How many flies do you see on any given day? Before, one fly was no problem. Now it is. We need to look for the omens.”

  “The city is having an election,” Michael said. “However, in every election, some human claims the devil is at work, or that the one who won is a tyrant. I will look into their backgrounds, but I think it is a fool’s errand. He’s not trying to claw his way out of Hell.”

  “She recognized the new drink,” I said.

  “Grace recognized the drink that shares her name?” Raphael said.

  “And she admitted to me yesterday morning about having a dream about me, and drinks, and the club.”

  “Reaching out to the woman you’re smitten with does sound like something he would do,” Michael said. “That still does not mean that he is trying to bring himself into the mortal realm.”

  “Do as I say,” I snapped.

  “Without a doubt, because I wouldn’t want to miss out on an omen and be responsible for that,” Michael responded steadily. “I just wonder if you are making mountains out of anthills. When was your last holiday?”

  “Now is not the time.”

  “I only meant for once this was settled, Raphael, some help.”

  “His stress and hormone levels are normal for a man falling in love. His sexual activity over the past few days has been average. His annoyance and seeming mood would be linked to the fact that he is attracted to the woman who may be in danger. It is completely normal.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “But it has been a while since your last vacation.”

  I straightened, glaring ahead of me at nothing in particular for a long moment before I turned that glare to Raphael. He arched an eyebrow at me, his wings lifted for a moment, then settled back down. He turned to the blackened land and sighed out loudly.

  “This is going to be difficult to clean up,” Raphael said. “Michael really brought the wrath, didn’t he?”

  “I only used my dagger, not even my sword,” Michael protested. “And the city is still standing. Don’t I deserve a pat on the head for that, at least, Samael?”

  I looked over that blackened area and focused on Michael.

  “You did what was asked of you, do not allow the healer’s complaint to dull your edge,” I said. “How much of this lives in the mortal realm?”

  “Just a burned-out building of a husk,” Michael said. “One dead, which is better than we thought would happen. Some injuries, the humans are blaming it on a gas leak.”

  “Which means that Gabriel is doing his job,” I said. “I need to get back and check on her. Have any of you done that yet?”

  “No,” Michael said, his wings ruffling in an unsettled manner. When the wings finally settled back down, they were pressed tight against his back. “We haven’t had the opportunity. This and that and the other thing. Frankly, hunting the club has kept us busy, they’re coming in too fast.”

  “We expected that from the spell,” Raphael said. He was quiet a moment, we all were, then he frowned and sighed out through his nose. “What if the spell isn’t working as well as we think it does? Or the spell is causing all this?”

  “Causing this?” Michael asked, then shook his head. “No, but I could see it not being as effective as we believe it to be. Half of magic is faith. She did say that it was highly experimental, never done before.”

  “The spell works,” I said. “The problem isn’t that she did something wrong. The problem is there are more demonic possessions in the city than we first expected. That is the sign. Have we seen anyone who was higher than a shadow?”

  “No,” Raphael said.

  “Just shadows and devils crawling their way into the physical plane,” I muttered. “The absence of the knights and princes and other riffraff is a sign. The others, they’d make a splash, they’d leave evidence behind. They’ve unleashed two devils right on top of her. The first went for her, but we felt it. The second went to someone else and dug in so much that even while I was facing the man, I didn’t know it was there.”

  “Can we use her as bait?” Michael asked.

  “She is not bait.”

  “Humans are bait,” Raphael said.

  “Grace is not,” I snarled. “By using her as bait, we may inadvertently deliver her into their hands. We cannot do that.”

  “Sure, that’s the reason,” Raphael muttered as he turned and walked away.

  “Raphael, the tone of discord is noted,” I called after him.

  “No discord here, brother,” he called back, facing away for another moment before he turned back to me. “Only a disagreement on whether your words are the full truth. The attachment is new, but I do believe you are infatuated with the woman.”

  “Lillith could have told you that,” I said. “It doesn’t change my ability to judge the situation, or how much trouble we could all be in if she were captured by Hell’s L
egions. No, we will not use her in such a manner. She is not bait.”

  “As you say, brother,” Raphael responded with a small bow of his head.

  “Finish here, find Gabriel and someone put Mary on a plane to the tropics. She is a weak point of hours, they know it. That means we get her out of the city.”

  “Why not just send Grace away?” Michael asked.

  Most of the time it wasn’t a person that the demons were after, it was a location. By removing the person who was plagued by demons, we were typically able to remove the influence of Hell.

  Those occasions usually involved people who had been possessed several times by the same demon. In that case, the demon was bound to one area but obsessing over a human host.

  “Repeated possession of a human by multiple members of Hell’s Legions implies this is about her, not about the city,” Raphael said. “Otherwise, yes, I’d say put her and Mary on a plane. As it is, are we certain planes are safe? You saw a fly, after all.”

  “No, flies and flying are two separate things,” I said.

  “We hope,” Michael said. “He hasn’t tried to get topside since long before man flew.”

  “The other option is a bus,” I said. “Those things are not safe for little old ladies. Even if she has our protection.”

  “For the sake of contact, what will you be doing?”

  “I told you, stalking Grace,” I said. “I’ve talked her into a job at the club. In case she asks, twenty an hour is normal for our janitors. Talk to the others, if they want to keep their jobs, they will not discuss their wages with her.”

  “Twenty an hour?” Raphael asked. “Are we going to make it a point of making poor business decisions if a woman is involved?”

  “One bad decision for one woman,” I said. “We’ve all read her history by now. She needed a break. If demons are going to try and possess her, she might as well be able to afford to buy herself her preferred alcohol to take the edge off. Report to me when you’ve completed your tasks.”

  I slipped back through the planes of existence, dropping into my physical form like a stone. For a moment, I struggled with where and who I was. Then I slipped back out again, having only used my body as an anchor point.

  I left my office and walked to the club where Grace was packing up her things.

  “I love that drink, are you sure you haven’t served it during open hours before?” she asked.

  “Absolutely, if you like that, I’ve got a couple more I’d like to try, if you’re not up to anything this evening.”

  My bartender was hitting on my woman. He knew she was my woman. Gabe had introduced his lovers in just the same way before. The bartender should have known.

  Unless they all assumed that I was some sort of celibate who took drunk women home to maintain the ruse of having sex.

  “Sorry, I have to work, maybe another night,” she said. “Speaking of plans, I have to get going to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She left the club. I remained behind for a moment, watching the bartender as he wiped down the bar, and considered my options.

  I wanted to fire the man on the spot, but that wasn’t exactly possible given the fact that I lacked a voice he could hear. My celestial voice would make a human explode if they were one of those poor sods that could hear the voices of the angels.

  Instead, I had to leave him be.

  I followed Grace outside and rushed to catch up as she walked, walked down the street like she hadn’t a care in the world.

  She wasn't hurrying, but she also wasn’t strolling like she had no destination in mind. Her hands were at her sides. It was clear that she had a cellphone in her pocket. Just strolling down the street like—

  No one was aware she was there.

  Others moved out of her way in a lazy sort of way. Never brushing up against her, but never actively moving like they would for other people. It was like Grace was just a lamp post. The thugs on the corner scanned past her, focusing on other targets instead.

  No purse, perhaps that was why they looked past her.

  I skirted around a couple to catch up to Grace as the world continued to move around her. In that movement, there was a pattern emerging, one that Grace changed the flow of. The pattern moved around her and then reformed on the other side.

  Like a river around a rock.

  That river brought with it all sorts. Heaven and Hell had their host of shadows and nymphs, but Earth did as well. Those little creatures latched onto humans, feeding on them like parasites, draining them of their essence and excess energy. In some cases, they were consuming the magic which the humans weren’t supposed to have, preventing them from causing problems. They were the flotsam in the water, caught up in the current and moving with the humans.

  A darkness slunk along the buildings with me. I looked up, and it vanished. I looked down, to Grace, and it seemed to reappear, just out the corner of my eye. I looked halfway between the two, Grace and the darkness. Wisps of smoke crackled into the air, carrying with them the scent of brimstone.

  The creature peered down at Grace, chittering out a sound as it continued.

  That was a shadow, a creature of Hell, all that remained of a human soul.

  Shadows could possess humans, and many did in an attempt to feel something. They caused outbursts of behaviour, a new addiction, or relapsing into an old one, eating an entire cake in one sitting. Shadows were the gluttons and greed of Hell, carrying on what they had done in life through still living humans.

  Some few were called fog instead of shadow because they craved sex, but sex booted them, back out of a body and drained them. They weren’t even shadows of shadows.

  The one up on the buildings, following along? He was a darkness entrenched in the physical form of the buildings.

  There were several more calls from the creature. As if he were trying to get someone’s attention.

  Shadows were the barest of creatures. They submitted to everything else. That meant that there was a very good chance that the shadow was calling for something else, trying to draw it in.

  Hell may have been torture and chaos, but it had a reward system like any other. A shadow who served well could be blessed with the consumption of a human soul, which would give them physical form. They would be locked in Hell, but there, they could find a sort of twisted peace.

  From across the street came a man dressed in white. He had my hair colour and a bit of a beard. In the twilight, he might have been mistaken for me across the street. He walked like a douchebag, like a man who was certain he was going to get laid, and he walked right for Grace.

  He stopped in front of her.

  She walked around him without hesitating.

  That’s a good girl.

  Grace stopped. She turned and looked back at the man, frowning past him. I watched her study the space where I stood and wondered, for a moment, if she could see me, but then it passed, and she turned to continue down the street. The man followed after her, hands slipping into his pockets.

  He was a demon.

  Demons came in a great many shapes and sizes. From the cloven hooves to the ogre like creatures, right on up to the full imitation of a loved one, or your worst enemy depending on what they were feeding on.

  Depending on the strength of the demon, they either resided in the astral or celestial plane—whatever you’d like to call where the shadows resided—or on the physical plane. Their presence on the physical plane was mainly restricted to little shadows out the corner of a mortal’s eyes, however.

  The point of that demon walking around wearing something akin to my skin was to catch her attention.

  Despite what most thought, humans could see that plane of existence. They simply ignored it, like their noses. It had always been there but became background noise at some point in their lives.

  Some humans could still see it, or see flashes, on purpose. Those little flashes were why demons took on many different forms.

  With the right form, a demon coul
d slip through the cracks of a human mind by reminding them of that one time, or the thing which made them either unstable or more open to suggestions.

  Few demons chose new lovers as their form. Incubi weren’t exactly frowned on, after all, the whole way they survived was by having sex with anything and everything that moved. They were the mop up crew, created by Hell to keep demons in line. They did more than half our work for us.

  But I doubted that this was an incubus hunting after Grace, not after I had seen her the day before. I knew when a woman was riding that nasty edge, and she was not.

  If she were craving a little more attention, I certainly wouldn’t allow an incubus to see to her desires. That was my job. No one else was allowed to touch her.

  The three of us walked through the streets, headed toward the college. The college, I should add, was over an hour walking away. Grace should have taken a cab or her car, or…

  Unless she didn’t have a car. I had just made that assumption because she had a driver’s license. One of her jobs was as a designated driver. She might have had access to their car, they might have even allowed her to use it off shift sometimes. That didn’t mean that she could always use it, however.

  It was yet another thing we had to discuss, but not one that Grace would want us to discuss. I couldn’t just buy her a new car. I doubted that I could get away with buying her a used vehicle, considering the fact that she walked unadulterated through the city streets.

  When Grace turned suddenly, toward a bus terminal two blocks over, the demon moved faster, meaning to catch up. Annoyed, I rushed forward and closed the distance between us. I grabbed the demon and killed him dead.

  Not dead, as in sent back to Hell, but dead as in dead. As in not coming back, not with a spell or hope or a prayer. He went to wherever all ethereal beings went once they died.

  In my world, you can kill someone back to Hell. Or kill them for a thousand years. The distinction really needs to be made.

  Oh, I’m sorry, you probably want the details, all right.

  My wing is my weapon. I am my weapon. Arc angels were to have six sets of six wings. In Heaven, we did. On the earthly plane, we were a little more limited.