666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
2
Lyrical Press, Inc.
www.lyricalpress.com
Copyright ©2010 by Lori Green
First published in 2010, 2010
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666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
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CONTENTS
Highlight
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About Lori Green
* * * *
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
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Back Cover Copy
Hell never looked so good.
Reality television is the newest battleground for God and
Satan. Caught in the middle is Kate Thomas, an ordinary
woman stuck between flaming Archangels and scorching hot
War demons. When her heart is captured by Demon Michael,
Kate has to face the hardest choice any woman can make:
the fate of her soul versus the future of her heart.
Content Warning: Sexual innuendo, explicit sexual
situations, language.
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
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Highlight
Do Demons desire Human women? Michael certainly gave
more than one suggestion he might be looking at me with
more than casual interest. Or was that just wishful thinking
on my part? Either way, this streetcar named desire needed
to get on with her trip so I pulled back the blanket to get into
bed and get started...
My screams should have woken up everyone in Allentown,
Colorado. They certainly woke up everyone at 666 Angel
Lane.
I didn't just shriek. I did a full on, no holds barred,
Hollywood virgin meets twin brother who's really the slasher
who hacked all her friends to bits, full bodied, high octane
scream to end all screams.
I felt Sherry's arms go around me and Rabbi Zimmerman
on my other side, his hand on my shoulder and fury in his
voice.
"Meshuggana! What crazy is this?"
"What?" Tosh stepped forward and saw. He gagged
slightly. "Heaven's chimes!"
"Jack!" Michael roared. I hadn't seen him enter but I saw
the red take over his eyes, the brown only a pinprick in the
middle and the look on his face would make a sillier woman
start running for cover.
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Dedication
To all the ladies of the Underground. The humor, heart and
support that you share without reservation just takes my
breath away. Thank you.
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to my critique partner Carolyn, who
always keeps me laughing and working to better my writing.
The nagging is appreciated.
Antonia Tiranth for awesome editing and encouragement.
Thank you Mollie for suggesting plot ideas, although the
sparkly vampires were already used.
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Prologue
It started with Martin Standley. If he had paid his child
support, if he had paid his taxes, if he had paid his lawyers,
the world would have been a different place. Mr. Standley
didn't want to pay his bills. Mr. Standley didn't want to accept
any obligations beyond driving down to the 7-11 for his beer
and chips. He certainly wasn't interested in the government
getting theirs or that bitch of an ex-wife getting her grubby
mitts on what the courts were trying to say was hers. He just
wasn't going to pay. Mr. Standley was making a point.
Mr. Standley's lawyers had a point to make also. They
wanted to get paid and Mr. Standley had added them to his
"do not pay" list. Hardy, Smith and Golderstein, Attorneys at
Law, believed in getting paid by the pinstripe. They did not
believe in pro bono, except when so mandated by the court.
When another bill remained unpaid, Mr. Standley's
attorneys made their point by refusing to continue work on
his case. Deadlines were unmet and before he could say
"bloodsucking parasites of the common American man!" the
IRS was garnishing half of his wages and his money-grubbing
bitch of an ex-wife was garnishing the other half.
Because he lived in the good old USA and because some
states don't consider mental aptitude a necessity for gun
ownership, Martin Standley became the proud owner of a
hunting rifle, a revolver, and an old German Luger.
Martin's sanity finally snapped for good on the day his
favorite television show, Shut Yo Mouth Motherfucka! was
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cancelled. A man could only take so much, and he'd finally hit
his limit. Unfortunately, his limit occurred on the day Hardy,
Smith and Golderstein, Attorneys at Law, were holding their
partner's meeting. They hadn't planned on having an
uninvited guest.
Martin shot the entire senior partner staff, as well as two
of the candidates up for partner who were doing a
presentation on how to charge billable hours while sleeping.
He also fatally shot the director of the accounting department,
a senior secretary, and the UPS man. Following that, he went
into the men's room and killed everybody inside before he
finally killed himself.
The senior secretary and the UPS man both went to
Heaven. One of the senior attorneys did as well, but that
turned out to be a paperwork glitch, and ultimately he was
sent to Hell.
The funeral was spectacular. What was left of the senior
staff was in full attendance, although the front pews of the
church were said to be shaking by all the cellphones on
vibrate. Despite the rumors, none of the widows placed her
husband's Blackberry in the casket. The widows were holding
onto the Blackberrys; who knew what dirty little secrets they
might possess and who might benefit from such secrets.
The firm was back in business within hours after the police
had sealed the scene. In fact, the world seemed to rotate just
as it had before. Below the scenes, another drama was
unfolding. Lucifer saw the line of lawyers, many of them
arguing with the scaly red Demons in charge, and he felt
peeved for the first time in centuries. Where in the name of
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Himself was he supposed to put them? Fewer and fewer
people seemed to be going to Heaven and the Lord of Lies
was feeling the pinch.
It was Lilith who mentioned Limbo, just like Heaven,
seemed to be in disuse. "What's Mr. Bright and Glowing use it
for anyway?" Lilith asked at the staff meeting. "I'll bet it's
where He puts the priests who didn't get caught."
"I'll give Jehovah a call," Lucifer decided. "There's no
reason He should deny me."
He denied him.
It might have become an epic battle between Heaven and
Hell with Humanity trapped in the middle. Piper Jory,
mediocre television producer and unoriginal thinker, heard
about the land grab and saw an opportunity to raise himself
from the fiery pit where The Waltons reruns never stopped.
He had an idea. Of course, it had originally belonged to
someone else, but it just might get Lucifer what he wanted
and Piper another chance at Hollywood.
One didn't have to be alive to be a Hollywood success
story.
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Chapter 1
The radio was playing Christmas music during one of the
worst heat waves in fifteen years. My pale legs were sticking
to the vinyl couch I was squeezed onto next to my best friend
Pam, her slimmer and darker body looking unaffected by the
heat.
The Three Tenors were singing Ave Maria and Pam was
snuffling. I thought about putting an arm around her, but that
would mean moving my body, which was sure to be a
mistake. To try and move, no matter how much I wanted to
comfort my friend, could cause no end in embarrassment and
pain. I dreaded the moment I'd have to peel myself off.
"Has someone recently told you to Go to Hell?" the radio
suddenly blared in advertisement. "Lucifer wants you to Just
Say No. The Fiery Pit is no place for Humans. Do a good deed
and go to Heaven. Paid for by The Lord of Lies and the Stay
Out of Damnation Committee."
I rolled my eyes. The devil had certainly been turning up
the metaphysical heat recently. I glanced at Pam; usually
we'd have a little Go to Hell laugh and play variations of Your
Favorite Deadly Sin game. Pam was still moping and wasn't in
the mood to argue gluttony over lust.
I kept my thoughts to myself and looked around in
disinterest. Pam's sudden desire to seek out a clairvoyant
wasn't half as out of character for Pam as sitting in a trailer
that had been last dusted maybe six months previously and
still had breakfast dishes on the table. A plastic poinsettia was
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tucked under the table; I thought I saw a spider web etching
across its bright leaves.
Pam's perfectly creased shorts and sleeveless linen blouse
looked as impeccable as when she first stepped into Dr. A's
office this morning, stuck her head into my cubicle and
announced we were "heading out right after the doc's last
patient and I ain't taking no argument from you, girl!" Since I
had begun working in the good Doctor Able's office, Pam was
more than just an office manager to me. She was best friend,
greatest ally and the one person I was scared to say no to.
The trailer that housed Miss CeeCee Divine, palm reader
and clairvoyant, was starting to feel like an Easy Bake Oven. I
was about to suggest we wait outside, just to get the agony
of the vinyl death trap over, when Miss CeeCee herself finally
appeared.
I expected a tall brunette looking like Elvira, Mistress of
the Dark. I had not expected a middle-aged blonde in cutoff
denim shorts, with a wispy ponytail and tired hazel eyes to
come into the room looking as though she wanted to sink to
the ground, either from the oppressive heat or the weight of
the world.
"You must be Pam." She nodded at Pam and then turned
to look at me full on. "And you are here with her. Well. Let's
get going." She turned and disappeared back through the
doorway. Pam and I exchanged looks and tore ourselves up
off the couch to follow.
Miss CeeCee's special room had originally been a bedroom,
obvious from the shuttered closet and general layout. She
had long tables against the walls, draped in bright fabrics and
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scattered with the accouterments of her trade. There were
candles, a crystal ball, wineglasses and what looked like a
miniature baptismal font.
"You want to reach your grandmother," Miss CeeCee said.
She pushed hair out of her face and turned her body to catch
more of the air blowing from the fans. Thankfully there were
two more sending some coolness over the room, a great
improvement from the stifling heat. We all angled ourselves
for maximum air exposure.
"I miss my Nana so much." I saw the tears well in Pam's
eyes and felt the combination of sorrow for my friend and
enmity for the continuing drama her life was becoming. Since
her boyfriend Greg had casually mentioned one night he
wasn't interested in having children, she'd been obsessing
about her Grandmother Josephine.
"She was the only one who understood me." It was a
familiar lunchtime litany as we ate our sandwiches and
bemoaned the state of our love lives. "Where's the Prince she
said was out there?" Pam was the kind of friend who would
donate a kidney, throw a surprise party or do your taxes
without being asked. She also had a dramatic streak a mile
wide, and could make a molehill into a full mountain range.
Once her voice began to hit the dramatic tones of misery, I
started to tune out.
Miss CeeCee murmured, and Pam answered. My mind had
wandered into a familiar fantasy involving Keanu Reeves and
a can of Whoozy-Whip. It wasn't until I felt Pam's small,
warm hand covering mine that I paid attention.
"We're having a seance?"
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"I told you I wanted to talk to Nana," Pam said angrily.
"Get in the game, Kate. I need you."
I resisted the urge to snap back, Pam would probably
make mincemeat of me anyway. I turned my palm into hers
and clasped her warm hand, turning expectantly to Miss
CeeCee. Her face was set in a grimace, not exactly what one
would expect from the con artist bilking your friend out of
fifty dollars. Of course, for fifty dollars one couldn't expect
Keanu at her door with Whoozy-Whip either.
The only good thing about taking part in something you
find ridiculous is knowing you can mock it later. Certainly the
laughter would take place behind Pam's back; however, for
the moment, I was smack dab in Pam's moment and stuck.
Miss CeeCee was immune to my attitude. She was also
impervious to the snide smile, the rolling eyes and the snort
of amusement. She was, in essence, ignoring me. Pam wasn't
and I saw my friend's annoyance build through the tension in
her shoulders and the obvious way she moved her body away
from me and toward Miss CeeCee.
"Contacting spirits is iffy," Miss CeeCee explained as she
placed a bowl of water on the middle of the table.
"Sometimes they've left the worldly domain behind and they
refuse to answer. Sometimes they're angry to be interrupted
from their heavenly pursuits."
"Nana will be glad to talk to me," Pam said, but I heard the
uncertainty in her voice.
I had a sudden mean thought of her Nana refusing to
come out unless there was a no-whine clause in the spirit
summation. The thought made me smile, and then I felt bad.
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"Of course she will. She loves you, even if she is dead." Pam
gave me a grateful little smile and shifted closer to me. I felt
better, and was ashamed of my earlier attitude.
"You have the picture?" Miss CeeCee asked. Pam nodded
and pulled from her pocket a worn photograph that was taken
back when Pam was the sweetest little specimen of gawky
girl, coltish legs and no bust, and the cutest little gap toothed
smile which later years of orthodontia fixed. It was the picture
Pam kept at her desk that showed her grandmother looking at
the young Pam with so much love it was like a talisman for
her. It was strange to see it make an appearance here. Miss
CeeCee took it and placed it by the bowl.
Of all the things I expected, Miss CeeCee closing her eyes
and taking a nap was not on the list. That was the only
explanation for what she did. Her breathing evened out and
her head fell forward.
"She must be tired," I whispered to Pam.
"Stop it." Pam frowned at me but I was willing to bet she
had the same thoughts. Miss CeeCee ignored us. I wished I
could join her in the Land of Nod, the heat was edging along
the senses and a small escape would be lovely.
"Josephine's here." Miss CeeCee's voice rasped and her
eyes were open and staring at us. I heard Pam gasp, and I'm
sure I made a similar noise. Her eyes were a bright,
Hollywood blue, not the same color they had been. She
blinked in confusion, looking at us. We blinked in confusion
back at her.
"Che? Eccomi Signore. Perche?"
"Nana doesn't speak foreign," Pam said in a harsh whisper.
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"I think that's Italian," I murmured. "Are you Josephine?"
"Josefina, si." The blue eyes fixed on me. "Chi cosa vuoi
parlar con?"
I shrugged. "I don't speak Italian, ma'am. Do you speak
English?"
"Ecco. Awicinarsi." She leaned forward, her hand reaching
out and I moved closer. I had no idea what she was saying
but if body language had anything to do with it, apparently
Miss CeeCee was about to whisper in my ear: "Gotcha!"
Her hand came to rest on my forearm. Our heads came
near each other, and just as she opened her mouth to speak
a sound like rushing wind came from her mouth. A lurch in
the bottom of my stomach, a gastric attack of the worst
caliber and someone was screaming as the sudden cyclone
seemed to hit. Damn it, the someone was me and then I
wasn't there anymore.
I'd never blacked out before, but if the feeling of being
sucked through a vortex like a cherry through a straw and
then ending up in an all-white room sitting on a white couch
with cool air embracing you and a man in checkered slacks
suddenly in your face saying, "This is wrong. This won't do at
all. Who brought the Human?" wasn't blacking out, I didn't
know what it was.
I vomited. I hunched forward and the Southwestern salad
that had been my lunch became a part of the carpet and Mr.
Checkered Pant's nice leather loafers.
"Oh, for Hell's sake!" I was still bent over but I saw the
now spattered shoes retreat. "Someone needs to clean up this
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mess! And I need wardrobe and make-up here. Where's
Tino?"
"I'm here, Piper. What's the emergency?" The voice
sounded familiar. Very familiar. I was sure I had heard it
recently. In fact, it sounded just like the one that had
suggested I not go to Hell. My stomach burned.
"We got a Human," the one called Piper said. I assumed he
meant me.
"Well, that would make a few of us, dude. I'm Human too."
"You're a host, it doesn't count."
There was a chuckle. "If it doesn't count then my agent
and I are going to be having a long talk. So where did she
come from? And why the puke?" The voice dropped to a
dramatic whisper. "Is she drunk?"
"I don't know," Piper shouted. "She shouldn't be here. We
go live in less than fifteen minutes. We don't need any fuck-
ups now."
"Then get rid of her."
My head shot up and my stomach roiled. I clamped my
mouth shut and breathed through my nose. I didn't want to
vomit again. I also didn't want to be gotten rid of. "There are
people who know I'm here," I said, my voice tight with fear.
"Where am I?"
"Ask your people," said the man with the familiar voice.
Was he the one named Tino?
"Do I know you?"
He smiled, and I was struck by how white his teeth were in
such a blandly handsome face. He didn't just sound like
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someone I knew, he looked like someone also. "Tino Taylor,"
he said, and his smile increased.
"Oh my God." It suddenly hit me. "You used to host Pimp
My Wardrobe. I loved that show. You could make a nun look
like a perfect whore. They never should have cancelled you."
Tino preened. "It was a great show. And now here we are."
"Where are we?" My stomach seemed to calm slightly.
Somehow I didn't think Tino Taylor was going to murder me
on this white sofa and then hide my body for later disposal.
"You're in six-six-six Angel Lane." The other man stepped
back into my view. I was surprised to see his shoes were free
of spatter. I looked down to see the remnants of my lunch
were missing too. Everything was white again and looking
much better that way. "I'm Piper Jory. The producer of this
show. And you need to leave. I don't care how you got here, I
need you gone."
"I don't know where I am." My head was beginning to hurt.
"I was sitting with Pam..."
"Piper!" I hadn't noticed the doorway until the woman
walked through it. She was heavenly. Her hair was a black
cloud, and my hand rose to my own mousy brown mop and
then stilled. Her figure was perfect, she defined hourglass
shape. Flawless skin, full lips and rich brown eyes with irises
ringed red. "The Human stays."
"Sherry, baby, what are you wearing?" Piper was wringing
his hands. I didn't see the problem because the woman was
wearing a simple white sundress that showed her creamy skin
to perfect advantage. "And what the fuck do you mean she
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stays? She can't stay. Get changed. I need to talk to Lucifer.
Someone, now! Chop-chop. This is so unacceptable."
"Even death can't change a Hollywood producer," Tino
whispered. I hadn't noticed he had come to sit next to me.
Between Piper's hysteria and Sherry's perfection, my mind
was on a field trip without a signed permission slip.
"Who's dead? And what do they mean Human?"
"They mean that you're living," Tino said, "and they're
dead. You got a name, sweetheart?"
"I'm Kate Thomas. I was with Pam, and we were at a
seance and then..." I didn't know how to explain any of the
rest, and I was struck silent.
"Piper." Sherry suddenly had a cellphone she was holding
out to Piper. "Boss on the line." I didn't notice her holding a
phone earlier, and I knew nobody had handed her one. My
head was starting to throb.
"What the hell is this?" I looked at Tino pleadingly. "Am I
hallucinating? Did I hit my head? Am I dead?"
"What do you mean?" Piper's whisper was more
devastating than his yelling, and we all stopped to look at
him. He was a middle-aged man, egg shaped, with a goatee
and ponytail, never attractive on a man with a half head of
bald. He had some serious bling going on, which made my
eyes ache since it fell on a white chest, which was as hairless
as the top of his head with an offending half open shirt tucked
into the checkered pants. He was his own nightmare in the
making. He was also a very pale man holding the telephone
like a viper that would at any moment strike.
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"Of course. Yes, sir," Piper said softly. "Yes, I understand.
Yes, sir." He snapped the phone closed, and for a moment he
swayed on his feet. I tucked my feet slightly over to the side
and out of the way, since he looked ready to copy my earlier
behavior and start upchucking on the floor.
He straightened and began screaming again. "I need hair
and make-up pronto, we go live in ten and we added cast."
"What the hell is he talking about?" I asked Tino. The
space behind my eyes was beginning to burn and throb.
"Congrats, kid," Tino said, "you just got your big break in
show biz."
Another room, another couch. A woman with a mouthful of
hair clips had mumbled at me and pulled my random, curly
mess into a stylish, curly mess. Yet another woman had come
immediately after and chewed her bottom lip. "Your skin," she
said in a discouraged voice, and I almost wanted to apologize
for having any.
When the disappointed one finished with me, shrugging
and sadly stating, "Well, that's the best I can do. I can't work
miracles no matter what Lucifer thinks," I was hustled off to
another room. This room was full of people, all of whom
stared at me with open interest.
"What the hell is this?" I asked.
"Not Hell, kid." Tino entered behind me. "Take a seat in
the middle, it's a great visual."
There were four people sitting together on one section of
the sofa, all in white. An empty space and then another
section had four people all in red. Someone had pulled a
forest green suit jacket out of the air and it had been put on
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me with a white smock underneath, hiding my sweat stained
blouse.
"Okay, we're going to do this easily. I'll do introductions,
and I expect everyone to follow the rules they've been given.
Kate, sit."
I stumbled forward and landed on the empty piece of
sectional, placing me directly in the middle of the two groups.
I looked at the group in white and was startled by the
shocking blue of all their eyes, the same bright Hollywood
blue I had seen looking back at me at the seance. They were
all blandly handsome in the same way Tino was. The four in
red were much more diverse looking, and to say I gaped
would be an understatement.
"Okay, contestants, let's get all our duckies in a row."
Piper's disembodied voice rang in my ears. I looked around in
shock, but nobody seemed disturbed. Maybe they were used
to hearing badly dressed television producers in their heads,
but this was another unpleasantly new experience for me.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"Indeed," said one of the white clad contestants. He was
elegant, almost otherworldly. "Why art any of us here?
Humanity shalt always have the need to express such
thoughts."
"Shut up, Uriel," a small man on the other side of the sofa
said. He was wearing what looked like a jogging suit matching
the crimson horns on his head and the red rimming his eyes.
He might have come up to my clavicle, and I was only five
feet two. The gorgeous woman, Sherry, was there also in a
tight garnet cat suit. Next to her sat a man that made the
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blood rush to my face. GI Joe had come to life and was
wearing a tight Crayola red t-shirt that stretched across a
chest I thought only existed in comic books. His eyes were
deep brown with the same ring around the iris and his black
hair was short with the tips fire-red.
"Don't drool, girlie," the short horned one said.
G.I. Joe looked away from me, and embarrassment
immediately replaced my interest.
"Fuck you, Tiny," I replied.
"You bitch, you can't talk to me like that!" He looked ready
to jump off the couch, but the last member of their group
gave a short bark. "Sit down, Jack. Now!"
We all sat back; her voice was as sharp as a ruler across
the knuckles. The horned one, Jack, sat back and gave me a
stare of pure malevolence. I tried to appear fierce, but
probably looked like I had a bad case of gas instead.
"Later, girlie," he mouthed.
Could the day get any better?
"Welcome to six-six-six Angel Lane," Tino's voice suddenly
boomed. I glanced around; he was no longer in the room.
"Where the ultimate fight between good and evil will play out
for our viewing pleasure. Team Heaven, Team Hell, and Kate
Thomas, the lone player for Team Humanity are here to battle
for the ultimate prize. Who will win Limbo? Watch to find out."
"What the fuck?" I said.
"No swearing, darling," Sherry purred, "we're live on
national TV."
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Chapter 2
We weren't really live. Just as many live shows have a
thirty second delay, it seemed we did too. "We don't need
technicians," Tino told me later, "when we have Heaven and
Hell providing technical support."
We were sitting in the kitchen of 666 Angel Lane,
Allentown, Colorado. Sherry had whispered, "Welcome to Hell
House" to me earlier as Tino had been reciting the rules of
the house, and the name stuck immediately.
Once the make-up had been scraped off my face and I had
been given a clean t-shirt and, thankfully, a Diet Coke, I
found Tino in the kitchen. The other house denizens were
elsewhere, much to my relief.
"So I got pulled in here by Josie?" I asked and Tino
nodded. His gaze traveled to the open backdoor where the
backyard of Hell House spread. There was a pool visible from
the back door. Sherry had found a shocking red bikini and
was out there preening.
"Saint Josefina," Tino agreed. "Patron Saint of Lactation."
"You're shitting me."
Tino grinned. "Not at all. Guess she was one of those
Italian Madonna types, had something like twenty-eight
children and breast fed them all."
"Her breasts looked good," I said. She was one of the
white clad contestants and, whether by fluke or otherworldly
intent, had brought me to this current place. Apparently the
otherworld types couldn't tell the difference between a
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Josephine and Josefina and the wrong heavenly creature was
called to our little seance. I felt bad for Pam.
"Not as good as Scheherazade," Tino said languidly, his
gaze still outside.
"Oh my God, are you shitting me? Scheherazade? The
storyteller from Arabian nights and all that?"
"That's our Sherry," Tino agreed.
"So what the fuck is Jack anyway? A nightmare?"
"Jack is an Imp, a lower form of Demon," Tino explained,
and I snorted. The small horned one was a serious pain in the
ass already. I was more than willing to believe he was the
lowest form of anything. "Michael is a War Demon."
Well that explained the GI Joe look and demeanor. He had
scowled throughout the opening telecast. We must have
looked like the biggest bunch of reality show idiots to hit
anybody's living room since the first season of Dude! Not My
Mother!
The Heavenly Quartet was made up of some heavy hitters:
the Archangel Uriel, Saint Josefina, Rabbi Zimmerman, and
Angel Tosh of the Celestial Choir and Angels A Capella. The
Devil's four were Michael, Jack, Scheherazade, and Miss
Withers, Lucifer's own fourth grade teacher.
And then there was me, the token mistake. Not only a
mistake but also the only real, living person in the house.
Tino had introduced me thus: "And we have Kate Thomas,
Human and unplanned house guest. Kate, do you want to
know what you're playing for?"
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"Can I just go home instead?" I asked. Tino laughed a
false, television host laugh. I might have been an unexpected
guest but the word came from on high that I was to stay.
"I have a job. A life," I complained.
"Already taken care of," Tino told me. "You're on leave,
and your apartment is waiting. Pam will feed your cat."
"Pam knows?" I was having a hard enough time wrapping
my own mind around this, whatever this was.
"Most people support their friends on reality TV," Tino said
with a small wink.
My stomach churned. Was my real life going to become
part of this debacle?
"Have faith," Tino said in a stage whisper. "After all, you're
playing for the right side."
"I'm not playing for any side," I said. "I don't belong here."
"Kate, sweetheart—" Tino's hand was warm on my arm.
"—when both God and Lucifer ask you to do something, it
might be for the best if you do it. After all, this is just a few
weeks. Eternity is a lot longer."
Heavenly blackmail. Could my day get any better?
666 Angel Lane had a few advantages over the usual
single-family dwelling: it had some magic going on. A three
bedroom, two bath house became a home of unimaginable
dimensions.
We were shown to our individual rooms. There was nothing
special to mine except the suitcase sitting on my bed. A
suitcase of my own stuff that must have been packed by
Pam: my Crimson Tide sweatshirt was there as well as all my
comfy jeans and tees. An out-of-date swimsuit had been
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
25
tucked in along with my journal and most of my toiletries. Did
I say she was a great friend? She was. I promised myself a
really heavy guilt session later for ever thinking unkind
thoughts.
Once the door was closed behind me, I let go and cried.
And none of that polite sniffling and blinking, I wailed. I let
loose like a baby who lost his binky.
I didn't know why I was crying like that. Maybe it was just
the shock of being where I didn't want to be, or all the events
catching up with me. Maybe I was just tired, or maybe I felt
bad about not being a better friend to Pam. Whatever it was it
cried itself out in big, gulping sobs and mountains of used
Kleenex piling on the floor.
When the tears ceased, I climbed into the bed, pulled the
covers up to my nose and went to sleep, which seemed like
the safest place for me to be. We had been told there would
be no cameras filming while we were in our individual rooms.
I slept through the night and much of the following day. I
had woken once and considered getting something to eat but
the effort seemed more than I could face so I stayed in bed.
Avoidance seemed better than reality television. I probably
would have skipped the rest of the week but there was
television history to be made. Or so Piper hoped.
I heard the voice inside my head. "Everyone in the kitchen.
Chop chop." It woke me from a doze, and I rolled my eyes as
I struggled out of bed; there was no way the game was going
to let me remain comatose throughout it.
666 Angel Lane
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26
We all straggled in. There were some faces made in my
direction, but I didn't care. Looking like shit on national TV?
Been there, done that.
Sherry was wearing a new crimson bikini with a see
through cover-up. Josie and Miss Withers came in almost at
the same time. Michael came in followed by Tosh. Whatever
the War Demon had been doing left a nice sheen of sweat
covering him. Saying he looked good would be like saying the
Grand Canyon looked big. Tosh seemed to agree.
"Maybe you can make an exercise program for me," Tosh
said. "I like how your muscles get all bulgy. You could train
me, it would keep us amused while we're here."
I thought Michael was going to hit him. My blood pumped
just a little harder through my veins, my awareness seemed
to skyrocket. Since when did I get turned on by the idea of
violence? Maybe when it had arms that large and a chest that
sculpted. The rest of him was just as fine, and I completely
understood Tosh's longing to see more of that physique.
Tosh seemed to be unconcerned when the red circle
rimming Michael's eyes became thicker. It should have been
scary. It should have been terrifying, except Tosh and I were
both waking and smelling the testosterone.
"I'm a War Demon, not a personal trainer." Michael's
fingers flexed. Did he want to wrap them around the neck of
the Angel? I did.
"Don't you believe in redemption, big boy?" Oh yeah, I
definitely wanted to strangle Tosh.
"Redemption is an interesting thing." Rabbi Zimmerman
stroked his beard as he moved between the Angel and the
666 Angel Lane
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27
Demon. "In Christianity, the salvation comes from God, in the
death of his Son, whereas in Judaism, the idea of salvation..."
"Well, crap." Sherry's voice was close to my ear. "I was
hoping to see our hunk pound the queer dear into the
ground."
"Can Angels be gay?" Dumb question, Kate, really dumb
question.
"If Tosh was any lighter in his loafers, he wouldn't need
wings to fly."
"I thought Heaven was sexless." I felt like a child asking
Sherry such obvious questions, but what Human knows all the
wonders of this world, much less any others?
"Heaven isn't sexless," Sherry purred, "only some of its
winged wonders. Which is damned unfortunate." She looked
in the direction of the doorway where Uriel had just appeared.
"Welcome, players." Tino entered directly behind Uriel, and
his face was alive with pleasure. He was in professional mode,
which meant we were being recorded. Since the technicians
working were not Human, they were hidden from view. There
was only a sense of their presence, a glow in the corner of the
eye that said they were there.
"Tonight is going to be your first challenge," Tino
announced. "You will be divided into teams to cook a meal for
others. Then each couple will have the pleasure of eating the
meal prepared for them in a special location. Meals will be
judged on taste, talent and ability to work together. The
losers of the challenge will be going home tonight."
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28
"Will we all be in the kitchen at the same time?" I asked,
horrified. Internally I was repeating a mantra: not Jack, not
Jack.
"This isn't question time, Kate," Tino replied, and I saw
Miss Withers nod. Let her have Jack.
It might have been easier if it had been Jack. Instead I
found myself partnered with Michael.
"How can we all do this?" I asked again. Tino had given us
few specifics but suggested everyone change. I had managed
a quick shower, lipstick and blush, a dab of perfume and the
only bra I had that made my breasts almost perky. Otherwise
I was in jeans and a pink sweater. Michael also wore jeans
with his standard red tee. He had showered, his sweat-
gleamed body had become just a regular, overly perfect
example of God-like creation.
"I don't think anyone is hindered with the time-space thing
here," Michael said. He had met me in the living room and we
entered the kitchen together. I was expecting a chaotic mess
with Josie sprinkling Italian words as Jack made mischief;
instead the kitchen was sparkling clean and quite empty.
"Where's everyone else?"
"I imagine they're here." Michael shrugged, and it was like
watching a hunky mountain move. "They're just here in a
different here."
"I sound like a broken record, but I really don't get it." I
opened the refrigerator and faced, well, I faced nothing.
"There's no food."
"What did you want to make?"
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29
"What does it matter? There's no food." Heaven help me, I
felt a slight panic wash over me. I might not want to stay, but
I also didn't want to lose. I wanted to go home on my terms,
not someone else's.
"Kate." Michael's hands were on my shoulders, and he
turned me toward him. "Stop thinking like a Human. This isn't
a game show where you win some money and a car you can't
pay the taxes on. This is Lucifer and God playing for Limbo.
You've got to get your head in their world."
I stared up into his eyes and somehow the red circle inside
calmed me. His dark brown eyes were calm with the red
swelling like a beating heart. His lips were so close to mine,
his hands still holding me, I could breathe in his scent, that
wonderful Michael musk.
"Kate." His voice was a soft rumble. "I can't cook worth
shit."
"So what do I do?" I was mesmerized.
"What are we making for dinner?" His hands were warm on
me, although I would have been happier had they been warm
all over me. Still he wasn't letting me go, his gaze was still
locked on mine, and as I licked my dry lips I saw how he
followed the trace of my tongue. Maybe I wasn't the only one
feeling the overcrowding in the empty kitchen.
"We're making shrimp and broccoli." His eyes were fire,
my nerves were aflame and the heat between us was almost
hot enough to be straight from Hell itself. My fingers would
probably burn if I touched him. "Can you chop carrots?"
"I can." Michael seemed fixed on my lips. "I can chop. I
can cut. I can slice."
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30
"Can you burn?" I whispered.
"Can you?" he answered softly.
"This is great," Piper's voice enthused in our ears, and we
broke apart like a china cup hitting the floor. Damn it!
I didn't know what a producer's job was but Piper did
prove to be a great mood killer. Still, it was best we get our
culinary groove on. "You really can't cook?" I asked Michael.
"I'm a War Demon, Kate. I fight, it's what I am."
"Do you eat in Hell?"
"Not food."
"I probably don't want to know what else there is." I
turned back to the fridge and opened it to find it fully stocked.
Everything I could need was there, as well as everything any
cook would want. "Harry Houdini's amazing refrigerator trick."
"What's a Harry Houdini?"
I shook my head and instead of answering, started pulling
out what we needed. Food got piled on the counter. I then
pulled out knives and cutting boards and pans. Michael
watched as I tried to lose myself in the comfort of something
I knew. He was wise to give me the time to center myself
before I was ready to come back to this reality.
I gave Michael a handful of carrots. "I need those sliced," I
told Michael, "and some onions too. I don't know if we can
beat an Italian Mama in the kitchen, but we should do well
with this."
"You think Saint Josefina will win?" Michael picked up a
knife and wielded it.
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31
"Cut the carrots, War Demon," I advised, "don't kill them. I
don't know if Josie will win, but she's Italian and she was a
mother. I'll bet she can cook."
"And she's with Miss Withers." Michael lifted the knife and
arced it through the air. It sang and then crescendoed in the
carrot. The carrot did not survive.
I've always found pleasure in the kitchen. Cooking with a
hunky War Demon, however, added another dimension to the
experience. I would have expected a War Demon to be an
alpha male to the extreme: speaking in grunts, ripping things
apart just because he could, creating bodily odors that would
make a grown woman cry.
Michael destroyed my misconceptions the same way he
destroyed the vegetables I gave him to chop. He was
efficient, quick and more than willing to do what I asked. That
was a new experience for me.
"So what does a War Demon do?" We had left the food to
simmer gently on the stovetop, and I had another Diet Coke
as Michael drank a beer. I tried to picture him sitting in the
small kitchen in my apartment but the image refused to fly.
"We kill." Michael shrugged and lifted the bottle to his lips.
It was mesmerizing. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he
drank. It probably would have flexed if there was a way. Hell,
I wanted to bend and stretch while underneath him, flexing
under all that hunky power.
I wondered if there was a good stock of ice. I might need
some in a bath soon.
"I assumed you weren't playing patty-cake." I drummed
my fingers on the table. Michael scowled at my drumming
666 Angel Lane
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32
fingers, and I stopped. "But is that it? Death and despair
only? Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week? Time off
to see the family? Evenings in the barracks to watch Oliver
Stone movies?"
"There is no family, I'm a Demon."
He said it so matter-of-factly, but my insides clenched. No
family? "Well, what is there then?"
Okay, I read romance books. In romance books the big,
handsome alpha male shows his vulnerable side and only the
heroine can save him. It's a guaranteed happily ever after
and I'm a guaranteed sap for believing in it. So I waited
breathlessly for Michael to reveal the weakness I would find a
way to help him conquer and then HEA forever more. Hooray!
"There's war." Michael crushed the beer can in one palm
and crushed my HEA also. "There's killing. There's weapons.
There's the sound of men dying as fire lights the night."
Damn, the man had the soul of a poet when discussing
devastation. Joy.
"I guess it's good you're a War Demon then."
"Just like it's good you're a Human, Kate." Michael's eyes
leisurely traveled my body. I wanted to feel indignant at the
slow slide of his eyes over me, the chauvinistic manner of
making a woman a piece of meat, but I liked it. I would have
preferred his big hands with the nice long fingers sliding over
me instead but still...his brown eyes narrowed slightly in
obvious appreciation, and I felt a certain cat-eating-the-
canary pleasure.
"So how are baby War Demons born anyway?" And yes, I
did cast my eyes cleverly downward, and I might even have
666 Angel Lane
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33
lowered my voice to the closest I could come to a purr.
Michael seemed to be the one part of this experience that had
the possibility of pleasure, and I was toying with the idea of
some sinful seduction to spice the experience.
As if in immediate confirmation that I'm completely
incapable of flirting or seduction or any wily skills, Michael's
eyes shuttered over and his body straightened. "So, should
we check on our shrimp?"
Seduction 101 as taught by Kate Thomas: don't ask
Demons about procreation.
"Dinner is served." Our shrimp and broccoli looked
wonderful and smelled just as good. We placed it on a warm
platter in the center of the table. We also had white rice and a
small plate of cut raw vegetables. My own stomach was
rumbling in appreciation.
Josie and Miss Withers were our dinner guests. We were
expected to serve; our casual outfits had been replaced with
black slacks and white, button-down shirts. We had small,
black aprons tied around our waists. I shouldn't have been
surprised that Michael could really rock an apron. I had a bad
feeling I was sliding into high school, unrequited crush time,
and wouldn't that be embarrassing to have played out on
national television?
Josie was wearing white slacks and a flowing white top.
She looked ethereal; her brown hair cascaded past her
shoulders and had silver wisps in it. Her blue eyes were calm
and warm. Miss Withers made me think of Miss Grundy from
the Archie comics. She was almost a complete cartoon
caricature.
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34
Michael poured wine as I lit candles. They had set up the
table by the pool, which was an excellent spot with dim
lighting and a backdrop of flowers.
"Questo ha uno aspetto cosi buono. Possiamo mangiare
adesso?" We all exchanged looks. Josie's Italian was gibberish
to us all. I guess Heaven doesn't speak one language alone.
"Why don't you help yourselves?" I suggested.
"What is this?" Miss Withers made a face that made me
want to pull her moustache. Instead I smiled.
"This is shrimp and broccoli. We added onions, peppers,
carrots and some wonderful spices. It's lovely over rice."
"Is there cumin?" Her nose was twitching enough to be a
rabbit. I really wanted to pull her moustache.
"Yeah."
"The proper word is yes." She spoke in a snappish voice
and my knuckles suddenly felt a sting.
"Did you just hit me?"
"Watch your p's and q's young lady."
"No hitting," I whined.
"Questo e delizioso." Josie had piled food on her plate as
we were talking. She was happily chewing a mouthful of food,
her fork already loaded and heading to pile more in.
"I am allergic to cumin. You will bring me something else."
"There isn't anything else." I tucked my hands behind my
back and turned to Michael. He guiltily lowered the wine
bottle from his mouth.
"Surely you had to be aware that others might have
reactions to your wild spices."
"Cumin isn't wild."
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35
"You should not contradict your elders, young lady." The
slash of her tongue again became a knuckle rap.
"Cut that out," I shrieked. No wonder Lucifer was evil. He
was probably a really nice kid before Miss Withers taught him.
However she was managing to hit without lifting a hand was
just wrong. I whirled on Michael. "Would you do something
here, please?"
"What?" Michael shrugged. "She scares the shit out of
me."
"Young man!" Michael jumped, and I saw him pull his
hands to his side.
"She got you too!" I said accusingly. "Cut that out."
"Mind your manners." Miss Withers took her napkin and
placed it on the table. Josie continued to eat, her eyes
watching but her mouth busily chewing. "Even if you are
Human, I expect you are capable of a modicum of manners."
"Fuck you," I grumbled. That was becoming my signature
phrase in only a few days. I knew I shouldn't have said it the
minute the words left my mouth. My knuckles were suddenly
white hot with pain, and I yelped.
"For all that's unholy," Michael growled. In two steps he
was at the table, his body looming over Miss Withers, his face
inches away. "Stop. This. Now."
"Another thug, just like Beelzebub." The schoolteacher
faced the warrior and I saw Michael's knuckles as they rested
on the table stitch over with red marks. Josie's eyes widened,
as I'm sure mine did. This was extraordinary and terrifying.
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36
"I gave you fair warning," Michael said. He reached down
and over and suddenly was hefting Miss Withers, iron chair
and all, up into the air.
My hands clamped over my mouth as I watched the
woman fly. Her expression of sour displeasure never left her
face, even when she hit the water with an enormous splash.
"Ha a un po 'di piu?" Josie asked, holding out her empty
plate.
"Help yourself," I muttered, and Josie filled her plate with
more.
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
37
Chapter 3
Josie and Miss Withers were eliminated after the dinner
competition. Miss Withers sat on the white couch. Somehow
she was still dripping pool water, even though it had been
hours since her swim. Neither she nor Josie seemed especially
unhappy about leaving. I wouldn't have been either.
Michael was looking quite smug at the elimination. I had
thought he and I would be on the chopping block since he
threw a schoolteacher in the pool, but apparently most of
America had agreed with him.
Oh, that was the newest twist we were presented with.
Seemed that the Heaven-Hell connection made voting
immediate. "The numbers are killing," Tino whispered to me
earlier. "And Michael's a star. We got Sherry kicking ass with
the internet searches and Demons are becoming the hottest
thing. We own the network."
"We just started," I said feebly. "Isn't there more of a lag
time or something?"
"Helps to have a few Gods on your team, Kate." Tino was
almost whistling in excitement. "This is career gold."
I didn't feel golden. After the pool debacle I felt leaden.
Our own dinner was cancelled, and so my stomach was heavy
with hunger. I didn't know if anyone besides Josie had eaten
or if a late evening binge was going to make it on screen but
damn it, I was hungry and I was emotional and nothing but a
naked War Demon with a box of Twinkies would be keeping
me out of the kitchen.
666 Angel Lane
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38
The kitchen seemed to have undergone another
transformation. I opened the fridge, and this time was agog
by the amount of food. Eggs, veggies, fruit, juices, cheeses, a
variety of lunch and breakfast meats. If you could crave it, it
was probably there.
I popped a chocolate in my mouth and chose some foods.
A veggie omelet seemed the thing, and I was already in a
slice and dice mood.
"Are you cooking, Kate?" Sherry wandered into the
kitchen, clad in scarlet baby doll pajamas, her hair in two
plaits with matching ribbons on the ends. I almost wanted to
rub my eyes: Lolita done devilish.
"You want some?"
"Really? Oh, yes, please and thank you." Sherry climbed
on a stool by the chopping island and watched as I cooked.
"So, you and Michael, huh? What do you think of our War
Demon?"
"What do you mean?" I certainly wasn't born yesterday,
and unlike Sherry also wasn't born before SUVs and internet,
so I wasn't that innocent and she wasn't that guileless.
"Oh, just you were partnered," Sherry said vaguely. "I was
with Uriel. We did a vegetable platter, neither of us knows
how to cook."
"Uriel doesn't strike me as a foodie," I agreed.
"He's just a stick." Sherry's hand hit the counter and I
jumped slightly in surprise. "I know they're going to put us
together for all these stupid challenges just because Piper
wants ratings."
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39
"How well do you know Piper? What's going on exactly?" I
started peppering Sherry with questions, and finally she
laughed and held up a hand to stop me. I held my tongue
until I slid the omelet onto plates and garnished with a small
amount of grapes and sliced strawberries. I climbed onto the
neighboring stool. "Okay, tell me, please."
Sherry took a bite of food and I saw her face transform
into pleasure. "That's so good. Thank you, Kate." She took a
second bite and I have to admit, watching her face transfixed
almost turned me on. No wonder she was top in internet
searches.
"Okay," she finally said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin,
"there's a history here and it's mostly between the two Lords.
Is there ice cream? I love ice cream. See with Lucifer and
Jehovah it's almost like the older brother-younger brother
dynamic. And Jehovah hates to let Lucifer have anything."
"Wait a minute." This was hard to wrap my thoughts
around. "God and the Devil are like the Brady Bunch? Or
Wally and the Beaver?"
"Well, not like they're real brothers like Wally and the
Beav," Sherry explained. "It's just the relationship they have.
I mean Jehovah is the number one of all. Still, He has some
issues with Lucifer. Then with Lucifer getting more souls than
Jehovah does and complaining He has no place to put them, it
just galls Jehovah. I think that's the biggest part of this."
"And they decided to settle it with reality television?"
"That's just Piper," Sherry said dismissively. "He might not
have been a great producer, but he can sell. Then again,
maybe that's exactly what a great producer is."
666 Angel Lane
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40
Sherry was chatty, and I learned a few things that
surprised me. Sherry fascinated me with some of the history
she told about herself. "So you're Human?"
"I was." She licked her spoon. She had polished off a bowl
of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food and was working on a second.
"Obviously I died and had to burn a few years and be
miserable. But Lucifer liked me and let me come upside."
"You sound like you like him."
"Lucifer?" Sherry's eyes widened. "Kate, he's the Devil. No
matter what, he's going to make your eternity a misery.
There's nothing to like about Lucifer."
Well, I was just delighted. So if by any stretch of the
imagination I actually won this damned game then it sounded
like I might also face an eternity in the most tropical of
paradises. Certainly the hottest of hot spots. What a lucky
Human I was.
How many people get a chance to make an enemy of
Satan?
It was easy to talk to Sherry, and I was glad for her
company. There's something comforting about being with
another woman and just talking about those things women
talk about. Although in our case we were talking about Gods
and Devils and those creatures in between but still, there was
a touch of home in being with Sherry and junk food.
I craved being home, talking to Pam and feeling my
familiar life settle around me. Without that, a moment like
this with Sherry was a balm, and I appreciated it.
We said goodnight and I went upstairs to my bedroom, my
mind full of conflicting thoughts. I wanted to go home, but I
666 Angel Lane
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41
wanted to win this game. Satan was bad, God was good, and
Michael was smoking hot. Being on national television equaled
being famous, which might get me a shot at that Keanu and
Whoozy-Whip fantasy. Then again, there was Michael here
now and probably a can of Whoozy-Whip in the fridge
downstairs. A whole new fantasy came to mind.
I was thinking about sex.
I wasn't slutty, but it had been a long time since I was a
virgin. A man as hot as Michael was guaranteed to make my
mind circle around the idea of bodies naked and sliding
together. Just the idea of Michael's arms around me was
enough to make my panties damp. My body was in a
hormonal uproar; I wanted to do the dirty with a Demon.
I undressed slowly, my mind still all over thoughts of nude
dark-haired men. We had been promised no filming in private
areas, which was good because when I removed my bra, my
nipples were peaked and I knew I was going to do something
else very school-girlish, if only because Pam packed
everything I needed except the blue Mr. Happy in my bedside
drawer. Oh well, who would have thought he'd be necessary
in a place like this?
I decided to forego pajamas. Tonight was going to be a
private show with thoughts of hot housemates. It might not
be as good as the real thing or even as good as the plastic
thing, but I knew how to enjoy myself with smoking fantasies
and slow strokes. Where there's an itch, there's usually a way
to scratch.
God, what was I thinking? What was I even doing here?
God and Satan fighting over land, the ultimate real estate
666 Angel Lane
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42
nightmare and I was supposed to do what? The best thing I
could do would be to get eliminated before I made a God very
angry with me. When eternity came into the equation I felt
outclassed, outgunned and out of my element.
I wasn't going to brood, damn it. I was going to think
about brown and red eyes, bronzed skin with defined
muscles. I was going to lose myself in thoughts of how he
looked at me, and the slow burn in my belly with how he
made me feel.
Do Demons desire Human women? Michael certainly gave
more than one suggestion he might be looking at me with
more than casual interest. Or was that just wishful thinking
on my part? Either way, this streetcar named desire needed
to get on with her trip so I peeled off my panties and pulled
back the blanket to get into bed and get started...
My screams should have woken up everyone in Allentown,
Colorado. They certainly woke up everyone at 666 Angel
Lane.
I didn't just shriek. I did a full on, no holds barred,
Hollywood virgin meets twin brother who's really the slasher
who hacked all her friends to bits, full bodied, high octane
scream to end all screams. And I didn't stop.
I didn't pay attention to who came through the door or
what order they came in. I felt Sherry's arms go around me
and Rabbi Zimmerman on my other side, his hand on my
shoulder and fury in his voice.
"Meshuggana! What crazy is this?"
"What?" Tosh stepped forward and saw. He gagged
slightly. "Heaven's chimes!"
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43
"Jack!" Michael roared. I hadn't seen him enter but I saw
the red take over his eyes, the brown only a pinprick in the
middle and the look on his face would make a sillier woman
start running for cover.
"What's up, chicken butt?" Jack sashayed toward the bed.
"Hey, Katie, nice nips. Glad to see the bush matches the
roof."
"Jack," Uriel said calmly, "didst thou place the deceased
fowl in Kate's resting place?"
"Well, looky," Jack said, his grin wide. "There's a dead
chickadee in Kate's bed. Katie, I didn't know you were into
that sort of thing."
I was shaking with humiliation and anger. Someone found
my robe and the Rabbi wrapped it around me.
"You little fucker," I spat. "How could you do this?" I took
a step forward; I really did want to get physical with that little
monster. The bastard put a dead fucking chicken in my bed.
In my bed!
"Not me," Jack said with malevolence written all over his
face. The little puke didn't even attempt to fake innocence.
"I'm going to kill you," I muttered.
"Can't kill me, Katie-roo." Jack was almost dancing with
glee. The red rims of his eyes were dancing with small flames.
"Not Human, too good to be a meat puppet. But you are so
ripe, little Katie-kins..."
"Shut the fuck up." Michael spoke quietly but his large
hands covered Jack's horns and the sudden fear on Jack's
face was a balm to my shakes. "You don't fuck with Kate."
Michael lifted Jack into the air and brought him face to face.
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44
"You leave her alone, or you'll discover how much pleasure a
Demon like me gets from torturing an imp like you." He
brought Jack even closer to him. "And I like that you can't be
killed. It just means endless torture. And that turns me on."
Jack squealed and Michael smiled a tight, lip only smile.
Then he tossed him.
"Michael," I shrieked as my bedroom window broke. Sherry
ducked against Uriel as I dove toward Michael. Jack's bellows
receded as his body smashed through the window and then
traveled on outside. It looked like Michael got a good
trajectory and later we found Jack had landed directly in the
garden, smashing a rose bush. He unfortunately didn't retain
any damage. I was assured later he'd felt hurt so there was
an up side to it.
"I don't believe you," I said. I smacked my palm against
Michael's chest. "Are you mental?"
"What did I do?" Michael asked. He looked down at me,
confusion etched across his features.
"You're a hero," Sherry said. I glanced over and she was
standing next to Uriel, who was blushing a shade lighter than
Sherry's siren red baby dolls. "And you," she said to me. "You
beat me to being the first person naked on national television.
We are so going to talk, girl."
"Naked?" I felt a swoon coming on. "No. No filming in the
bedrooms."
"Silly." Sherry giggled. "The door was open and the
hallway is right there." From the corner of my eye I saw the
halo of light that meant one of the supernatural techs was
around.
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45
"I don't believe this," I moaned.
"You know," Michael said conversationally, "you don't look
as fat when you're naked as you do dressed."
I wondered why I had ever thought he was attractive.
Especially as Sherry laughed and Tosh patted my shoulder.
At breakfast the next morning I sat nursing a cup of
coffee. Uriel sat at the table next to me eating toast I had
made him. The Archangel had stared at the toaster for a good
five minutes before I came to his rescue.
I was sullen. I was beyond that actually. I was in a snit
mixed with a funk and a touch of shit storm mixed in.
"Thou art perturbed?"
What a jack-off. "I am not," I said. "I'm pissed. What the
fuck was the chicken about anyway?"
"That wouldst be thy imp." Uriel looked down at his plate.
He had long, delicate fingers and they were dragging trails
through the toast crumbs. "Couldst thou, perhaps appease an
Archangel's curiosity?"
"What could I possibly know that you don't?"
"What wouldst a rim job be?"
I spat coffee. It was one thing to be asked how to work a
toaster. This was a little more complex. "It's um...it's a sexual
practice. Involves tongues."
"Ah." Now Uriel looked to be brooding. We were a perfect
pair. I was mopping up coffee with a napkin he was thinking
about tongues and I'd be willing to bet, a certain female from
Hell who looked amazing in red.
"Are you even allowed to have sex?" I blurted out.
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46
"Oh. Intercourse." Uriel flushed, it was becoming a habit of
his. There was an odd enchantment to his innocence. He was
sweet and sincere with a body as muscular and amazing as
Michael's. He also had short, dark blond hair, those heavenly
blue eyes and the blandest face I'd ever seen. Despite all the
handsome, he was bland. "Heaven dost not, well, Angels dare
not."
"Got it," I said quickly. He didn't. He couldn't. Sherry was
either going to make him explode or become a fallen Angel.
"So, would you like more toast?" I asked.
"Hey, little Katie-doo." The minute I heard his voice I was
out of my seat, and I had grabbed the nearest thing that
looked like a weapon. Unfortunately it was a butter knife.
Jack giggled. His horns looked larger, which was the only
large thing about him except for his attitude.
"Stay the fuck away from me," I said, trying for menacing
and probably hitting high camp instead.
"Ooo, a butter knife." Jack stepped toward me. "Make sure
you oleo my ass."
"Thou art a minion of the Lord of Lies!" I had forgotten
Uriel, who seemed to have forgotten rim jobs and
remembered his Archangel status. He stood and plucked the
utensil from my hand. He reached to the table and picked up
the sugar spoon I had used. "I wouldst smite thee imp and
banish thee back to the regions of flame. May eternal pain be
yours, forever!"
The two implements grew in his hands and started to
blaze. Uriel looked truly majestic as he held aloft the
silverware, aflame and glowing. Unfortunately his
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47
accouterments were still a butter knife and sugar spoon. Even
on fire.
Jack and I laughed ourselves limp.
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
48
Chapter 4
I want to say life at 666 Angel Lane settled into routine. I
really would like to say that but routine doesn't get ratings,
and Piper was after ratings. Which explains why we were
gathered by the swimming pool, Sherry in her standard red
bikini and I was wearing a one piece with a shirt of Uriel's as
a cover-up.
Michael was wearing a pair of red shorts and nothing else.
He looked too good to be legal. His legs were as muscled as
the rest of him. I didn't want to stare, but it was hard not to.
As gorgeous as Uriel was, he couldn't tear my sight from
Michael. I barely registered anyone else, but they were
certainly there.
"It's about winning," Tino said. He was wearing his hosting
outfit of black slacks and blue golf shirt. He didn't look at
Sherry at all when he was in professional mode, but he did
slip a wink my way. I think it was a Humans-got-to-stick-
together wink. I was grateful for it. "And winning usually
means competition. But here at Angel Lane—"
"Hell House," Jack muttered.
"Thy Heavenly Abode," Uriel's voice cut in.
"Here at Angel Lane," Tino continued, "competition isn't
the call as much as ability to interact, to learn and to grow.
For that reason, you'll all be given special assignments to
carry out. There are cards with your names on them, find
your card and there's your task. The one that fails will be
going back to their unearthly domain. Good luck."
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"What cards?" Michael got to his feet, and Tosh didn't hide
his admiration of the rippling specimen of Hell hunk.
"Find the cards first, friends," Tino said.
"I love alliteration," Sherry purred. Tino blushed and Uriel
coughed indiscreetly. Michael caught my eye and for a
moment just pinned me with that glance; he stuck me on a
board, my wings held by needles and I had no recourse
except to say. "Hmmm, I love it."
Michael was a feast for the senses. There was an
appreciation in the way his gaze slid over me that made me
feel a hum in my body. I couldn't figure him out, but then, he
wasn't just a man who was impossible to understand, he was
a Demon. I really didn't stand a chance, but the way I was
feeling made it worthwhile.
His irises were expanding red, the brown disappearing. I
stumbled to my feet. I was imagining in a few steps I could
be in his arms, his hands on my body, his mouth covering
mine.
"Oh, fuck me ragged." Jack's voice broke through like ice
down my panties.
"What now?" I moaned.
"Rabbi Z?" Michael's eyes became brown circles of
amazement and I looked toward the pool where he was
looking. A few minutes earlier it had looked like an ordinary
swimming pool in an ordinary backyard. Now it had two tall
walls of water and an inner dry aisle where Rabbi Zimmerman
was casually strolling.
"What the hell?" I took a step forward.
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"Not Hell, sweetheart." Rabbi Z threw a look behind him.
"Just a little touch of Heaven."
"Are the cards down there?" Sherry asked.
"Right here by the drain," Rabbi Z said.
"You Jews always have to do things the hard way," Jack
said.
"Imp," Uriel began, but Michael cut him off.
"Jack," he said menacingly, "bet I could throw you right to
the roof."
Jack's hands flew to his horns, and he glowered at Michael.
"Maybe I can find a nice little Tatari Gami for you to lunch
with Michael."
"I want to walk on water," Sherry squealed.
"What's a Tatari Gami?" I asked.
"Uriel, you're burning," Tosh said.
"I'll feed you to a Tatari Gami, you little shit," Michael
sneered.
"Oh, my Lord of Lies," Sherry screamed, "someone throw
Uriel in the pool."
"Why don't you fuck a meatie?" Jack said to Michael.
"Got them," Rabbi Z called out.
"Tosh," Uriel bellowed, "put down thy hook of grappling."
In only a few moments our tranquil backyard scene
became chaos of epic proportions. Rabbi Z was standing by
the pool drain holding white cards, Sherry was standing on
the pool steps with her top off, Uriel, who was covered with a
fine blue flame, was holding off Tosh, who was trying to push
him in the water.
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"Get your fucking hands off me," Jack screamed. I turned
to see Michael lifting him by his horns again. "Michael, stop
it." I felt frozen to the spot.
"That's it, Katie-poo," Jack cried, "make the bad man leave
me alone."
"Archangels doth not swim."
"Oy vey! You schmendrik. Don't send the Angel into the
water."
"You're a dead imp," Michael said and went into his wind-
up.
"Oh, fuck," Sherry screamed.
Michael sent Jack flying just as Tosh pushed Uriel in the
pool with the grappling hook and the Rabbi lost control of the
water. It came smashing down directly on him. Sherry was
screaming, Uriel was sputtering and the Rabbi had
disappeared beneath the water.
This was one of those times I was thankful my parents had
insisted on swimming lessons when I was seven.
Summers by the community pool sometimes had their fill
of drama but never exactly like this. I held it together pretty
well, but could feel my control slipping. Rabbi Z had remained
standing at the bottom of the pool. I got him up and with the
help of Tosh and his hook, got him back on the ground.
Sherry had somehow gone to save Uriel, but that seemed
to consist of her pressing her body against him and squealing,
"I can't swim either."
"Lovely as thou art Hellion," Uriel pointed out, "this shall
be thy end of shallowness."
"You ain't whistling Dixie, fellow," Tosh muttered.
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Sherry preened with the attention. "But I'm scared," she
cooed and pressed up against Uriel.
"Kate, are you okay?" Michael stood next to me, his
expression strangely peaked.
"I'm trying to decide who to kill first," I replied. "Why? And
why are you looking at me that way? And where's Jack?"
"Jack is somewhere over there." Michael waved his hand
dismissively. His eyes traveled down my body and I shivered.
"Something you like?" I asked. My voice was shaking,
whether from the events or the Demon I didn't know. I
couldn't believe he was looking at me that way. Then again,
yes please!
"Everything. Everything I see, I like."
"Not too fat?" Okay, it still stung
"You aren't fat." Michael had the good grace to look
sheepish. "That came out wrong, Kate. I just, I don't know."
"Maybe you should figure it out," I suggested.
"Kate..." Michael reached out and touched my arm. This is
where I should swoon or say his touch burned awareness into
me, but it was just fingers on my skin. I wanted to put his
hand on my breast, and then we could talk about awareness.
In fact, I wanted his touch in a lot of places that would have
worked well for overheated imaginings but my arm was
having no byplay on any of that.
"You're a fercockt faygala!"
"Watch your mouth, old man."
In my imagination I could see us as presented by the
television equivalent of reality: Ding! Ding! In this corner we
have Kate and Michael trying desperately to connect, two
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53
people who just want a few minutes of quiet time to finish a
thought. In this corner we have the rest of the crazies from
flying imps to burning Archangels. Step up folks and watch
the frustration grow.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?" I stepped away
from Michael and exploded. How could I help it? These
housemates of mine were making me crazy and that was the
kindest thing I could say. Personally, I wanted to take a
grappling hook to the group of them.
"Would you all get out of the water? Michael, go get Jack.
Rabbi Z, stop calling Tosh names and Tosh, stop...well, just
stop. Get moving, people. And you call yourself Angels. Shit."
"Gee, Kate." Sherry reluctantly climbed off of Uriel and out
of the pool. "You're almost sounding like Miss Withers. And
you'll notice she isn't here anymore, if you get my drift."
"Got the whole windstorm," I answered. "And Sherry, put
your top on. This is national, you know."
It was a house meeting. Jack was wearing some bruises
and sitting as far away from Michael as he could while still
being in the same room. Uriel was far from Sherry, who had
somehow lost her bikini top, however, I still had Uriel's shirt,
which might have been wet but it covered her adequately.
"Thanks a lot, friend," Sherry pouted.
"We'll talk later," I promised her, and I meant it.
"I am not going to be insulted by someone who hasn't
come into the twenty-first century," Tosh grumbled.
"Well, I have," I barked, "and I'm going to insult you if you
don't shut up. Good God, the group of you are insane."
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"Perhaps Kate wouldst consider we art heavenly beings
and thou art only Human."
"Shove it, Uriel." I was beyond polite. "Z, you got the
assignments?"
"Most call me Rabbi or Reb," Z groused. "It's disrespectful
to call me Z."
"Tell Uriel," I replied. Rabbi Z was sitting sullenly on the
edge of a lounger, the cards in his hands. I took them from
him, they were laminated and each had a name and sentence
on it. I distributed them, glancing at each one's assignment
first. This was going to be interesting.
"Thou art jesting," Uriel said, looking at his card. "Cook
dinner for thine housemates. I have not the cooking skills."
"You're good with cutlery," Jack snickered, and I had to
hide my smile. Flaming sugar spoons, Batman!
"Speak imp and read thy task."
Jack grimaced. "Do your housemates' laundry. Fuck that.
I'm not washing anyone's stinky shorts."
"Angels don't stink their shorts," Tosh said.
"Well, what do you have to do, Angel ass?" Jack asked
Tosh.
"Kick a box." Tosh crossed his arms over his chest and
looked around triumphantly.
"That makes no sense," Sherry said.
"I agree." I walked over and held out my hand. "Hand it
over, Angel Boy." For a moment I saw the blue in Tosh's eyes
darken, more turbulent sea than hazy morning, but he held
the card out and I read it. "Kickbox. Not kick a box. Tosh, you
need to go to a gym."
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Michael snorted. "Oh yeah," Tosh said, "well, what does
yours say, tough guy?"
Michael shook his head. "Sorry, not saying."
"Michael?" I was concerned. He held it out for me, and I
took it. A day at the spa, it read. I smiled. So they want to
bring the tough guy down. "Sorry, Tosh," I said, handing the
card back to Michael, "it doesn't need to be shared since it's
a, um, private challenge."
Michael blushed, and I tried not to laugh. "Just say no to
waxing," I whispered.
We didn't read the rest out loud since Tosh immediately
started complaining and Jack began asking Sherry for her
undies to wash. Uriel was surprisingly quiet, and I walked
over to him. "If you need help, I'd be happy to."
He looked up at me in surprise. "Thy generosity honors
me, Kate. And I accept thy kindness."
I was secretly glad the situation had degenerated as it
had. My own card was wet in my palm and I wasn't eager to
share the word that was on it. My own task: Choose your
side.
Having Jack do our laundry meant everything white
became pink, Sherry and I were missing all our bras and my
panties were dragged through mud. Uriel threatened and
glowered a slight flame; I redid everybody's laundry to the
best of my abilities.
Both Tosh and Sherry left to do their tasks and came back
full of stories. Sherry had helped with a high school car wash
and from what she told me, a few high school boys might
have entered manhood thanks to her.
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Tosh's time kicking the box caused some otherworldly
panic. I tried to schmooze Tino and even Piper to get a
heads-up but nothing was being said. All we knew was Tosh
was smug, the producer was in a panic and to Michael's joy, it
looked like his task was cancelled.
The bad news came back: it was back on.
I didn't know if I should call it D-day for Michael. He was
Mr. Tough Guy being eaten alive from nerves. I found him in
the backyard, away from the pool area, where Sherry had
staked her permanent claim. He was isolated enough but not
from a prying Human female.
"I wish I was the one going." He was sitting on a lounger
looking anything but relaxed. He looked up at me and moved
his legs so I could sit on the end. "Why are they wasting a
facial on a War Demon anyway?"
"Maybe this is a 'confront your worst fears' kind of
challenge." The red in his eyes was almost russet.
"How could a massage or facial be anyone's worst fear?"
"You're thinking like a Human again." Michael stretched
and my heart fluttered momentarily. He really was too sexy
for my sanity. Something about the muscles, or maybe the
tawny skin or the dusting of light brown hair over his legs and
arms. His t-shirt was tight across his chest and today it was a
simple white shirt with khaki shorts. Thank whatever deity he
wasn't wearing those nasty army boots he favored but
instead a pair of black flip-flops. Then again, I was even
finding his toes sexy so maybe the boots would have been
better for my libido.
"Okay. So how does a Demon view a facial?"
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He shrugged his shoulders, rolling them slightly, the
muscles bunching and loosening. Oh, yum. "I couldn't give a
Heavenly Hell about a facial. This is something that goes
deeper."
"I really am trying to understand." I placed my hand on his
leg and Michael jerked slightly. I withdrew quickly. "Sorry," I
muttered.
"That's the problem," Michael said harshly. "Right there."
"You don't like people touching your legs?"
"Not my legs." Michael leaned forward and his fists flexed
on his knees. "It's touch. Any kind of physical contact. Kate,
War Demons aren't exactly cuddly creatures."
"You seem soft enough to me."
There was nothing gentle or sweet about Michael and I
knew it. He was a GI Joe doll come to life but better looking
and in a variety of interesting colors. Michael was sexy,
tempting, hotter than Hell and sizzling. He was completely not
cuddly.
"You're just being nice." Somehow, he turned a grumble
into a rasping awareness of sheer need flowing through my
veins. I wanted to throw myself at his feet and cry out, "Take
me! Please take me!"
"Michael." I pitched my voice low and hoped whatever
fantastical sound man or camera Demon or whatever techie,
whether red tinged or white based, would miss our byplay.
"Michael, outside of fighting, surely someone has touched
you. Haven't they?"
The misery on his face was answer enough. "It just isn't a
Demon thing," he mumbled.
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"I don't know what makes it a Demon thing," I said,
placing my fingers softly on Michael's calf. I saw him jerk
slightly and his eyes blazed a brighter red. "But nobody
should live without physical contact."
Did I stroke his leg? A little bit maybe although once I was
stroking his skin, once I saw how his face tightened in
apprehension, the need to continue was just as strong but the
feeling was different.
I remembered my mother giving me the lecture when I
was a little girl about good touch versus bad: "Any touch you
don't want, sweetie, is a bad, bad touch." I hoped Michael
knew the difference most Human children learned young.
I ran my palms over his calf, squeezing lightly. "My mother
always said she hated when I got too old to powder and lotion
after my baths." I moved to his other calf and slowly stroked
down. "I missed it too. I loved feeling so pampered."
Michael was staring at my hands on his legs. His face was
unmoving but his brows were drawn together, his mouth a
thin line. "Is this bothering you?" I asked. I moved up to his
knees, close to his fists, which were tensed on his thighs. "Do
you hate this? Should I stop?"
"No." The word was almost a whisper.
"How are Demons born?" I reached up and covered his
hands with mine. This was what I wanted, skin warm on skin.
I rubbed up and my fingers tickled against his wrists.
"How are Angels born?" Michael asked. He looked up from
where we were touching and met my eyes. "Do you know?"
"I never thought about it." My mind was blank. Did Angels
just come into existence fully realized, or were they people
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59
who had ascended? What exactly was an Angel anyway? I
floundered, realizing I was living in a house full of beings and
people and I didn't know what-alls, and knew less about them
than they knew of me. In a word, I knew nothing.
"Angels," Michael told me, "are God's excrement."
"Oh, come on. That's just Demon talk, and you know it."
"No." Michael looked down at my hands, which had stilled,
my palms resting on his wrists. "Angels are made from the
secretions of God, his sweat, his tears, all of it. Just as
Demons are."
"As Demon's are made of Satan's secretions?"
"No one is born from Satan, Kate." Michael turned his
hands over and moved so we were palm to palm. My hands
looked like a child's cradled inside his large palms. "We're all
from God, one way or another. But some of us are bound for
less pleasant places."
"That doesn't sound right." He started to move slightly, his
fingertips stroking over mine, skin on skin, joy on joy. "Why
would God create you and then condemn you?"
"What do you mean condemn?" He wasn't pretending, his
eyes were intent on me, confusion touched his brow.
"Being a Demon, I mean, it isn't like well, being damned?"
"As much as being Human is, I guess." Michael looked
back at our hands. He turned my hand over and traced a
finger over the inside of my wrist. "Kate," he said awed,
"that's beautiful."
I looked at my wrist. I hadn't suddenly sprouted a tattoo
or any interesting growths. "What's beautiful?"
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"Look at your veins." His finger followed the lines of my
veins inside my wrist. "It's like a river of living. The blood
flows and there's these little ones that offshoot from it. How
beautiful is that?"
I'd never looked at my own wrist that way, but he was
right. It was lovely. I turned his hand and looked at the inside
of his wrist. It was the same tawny skin, but the highway of
veins was missing. I touched him softly. The skin was smooth
and warm. "You aren't Human." I suppose it was my own
wonderment, the veins were missing. I placed my fingers
flush and felt no pulse. "You really aren't."
"Does that bother you? Is it bad?" He didn't look upset;
the curiosity that seemed to be flowing between us was as
intriguing as the earlier sexual tension.
"It's just different." I stroked the skin; I was enjoying that
touch more than I would ever have thought. "You're different.
You're a Demon who's nicer than some Angels. You're nothing
like I would have thought a Demon should be."
"You're not like women I know either."
"Female Demons?" I tried to imagine a female Demon, but
Miss Withers was all I'd experienced since Sherry had begun
her existence as Human. "What are female Demons like?"
"More like me than you." Michael ducked his head, but I
saw his smile.
"What? Tell me."
He looked up and his eyes glowed. "It's just you, Kate. You
wouldn't last a second in Hell but you're so..." He shrugged
slightly and then grinned again. "You're like a bunny in the
middle of a battlefield."
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"Butthead," I said without heat and pulled my hands away.
"Here I am being nice to you and you call me fluffy."
"Bunnies are soft," Michael said. He made a grab for my
hands, but I tucked them behind my back.
"Are you calling me fat again?"
He had the good sense to look embarrassed. "It isn't...I
mean, you aren't fat, Kate. You're just..."
I think every woman has that moment. The lay it on the
line, chickens out of the coop, make the Demon confess kind
of moments. "What am I? Unattractive? Stupid? Innocent?"
"Clouds no!" Michael's look of surprise jolted me. "You're
beautiful. You're soft. You're so Human, and I never touched
a person before."
God, I was so flattered. And that wonderful feeling that
suddenly makes everything moist and ready and tingling just
got moist and ready and tingling. Ye Gods, yes! "Well, you've
touched a woman now." I reached out and took his hand.
"Kate." Michael's voice rumbled and my body reacted. "I
still have never kissed a female either."
"Aren't you lucky I'm here?" I know I sounded breathless
and excited, but I don't think Michael noticed. He was looking
at me with that same hunger he showed in the kitchen and I
wondered if I was brave enough to lean forward. Could I be
bold enough to part my lips just a little so the tip of a tongue
could venture in?
I wasn't fearless. I knew I could brazen my way through
most situations but not this. My spine had already melted, my
will was powerless. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't lean in that
little bit or offer myself to him. I couldn't feel his breath
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62
against me, the warm exhalation. I couldn't lean even closer
and meet his lips with my own, soft against soft.
The kiss was a sigh, breath mingling. It was so gentle. It
was soft as an Angel's wing against dawn's whisper. It was
also hot as Hell. Michael's hand came around and circled my
neck, he held me as his mouth became more insistent.
I groaned slightly as he kissed me, it felt so good.
My hands came up and rested against his chest. Michael's
free hand moved to my side. His tongue swept into my mouth
as he moved to the outside of my breast. He might not have
a pulse but I did and it was racing. My blood was pumping,
and it was loud in my ears. My teeth scraped lightly against
his tongue and his thumb pressed down, nearing my nipple.
"There's no time to schtup the shiksa." Rabbi Z's voice
broke us apart. "The car is here for your meshuggana
challenge."
I touched my lips and looked over at Michael. He was
looking pretty dazed. He might not have a pumping heart or
bloodstream, but something seemed to have had blood rush
to it, and it was straining nicely against his khaki shorts.
"You got to get," Z said.
I couldn't tear my eyes from Michael. "Have a good time,"
I said quietly.
"I was," he answered. I throbbed in response.
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Chapter 5
I found Uriel in the kitchen, sitting at the counter. There
was an apple and a knife in front of him, but he was just
quietly staring, his hands folded.
"Why is the Rabbi sounding more Jewish recently?" I took
the stool next to Uriel and reached for his fruit.
Uriel shrugged. "The Reb once perchance doth a Human
skin he wore. Earthly presence perhaps maketh Z of man
again?"
"You were never a person, were you?" I asked, thinking of
the excrement comment Michael had made.
"No Archangel hath ever carried the Human stain, Kate."
"Stain," I snorted. "Hand me the knife and no igniting it."
Uriel passed it to me and watched as I carefully cut slices.
"So, why are you sitting in here staring at produce?"
"I am required to feed mine housemates." I passed slices
to Uriel. "I dare not."
"Oh yeah, cooking isn't your thing. So what is?"
"My thing?" Uriel looked startled. "Archangels are not
possessors of things."
I didn't want to laugh. He didn't mean what he said. Or he
did mean what he said but not how he said it. I bit into a fruit
sliver and treasured the tartness. I was beginning to gain a
great appreciation of many different kinds of tart. I felt a
melting in my abdomen thinking of Michael and his kiss. The
man might not be a man but that War Demon certainly had a
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64
sweet side and sweeter kisses. Ye Gods, I wanted more of
what little I'd tasted.
"Thou art thinking of thy Demon."
"He isn't mine." I shoved some apple in my mouth, my
cheeks burning.
"Doest thou truly wish a Demon in thine heart? Shouldst
thou not seek a man?"
"Men are truly overrated, Uriel."
"Demons are Hell born and Hell bound, Kate."
"That's not what Michael said." My voice may have been a
little too vehement, because Uriel started and then scowled.
"Wouldst thou believe thine Demon and not God's own
Archangel?" Uriel didn't move from the stool where he sat, I
didn't move either. As clearly as he was present next to me I
saw him just as plainly as a vision lifting into the air, beautiful
white wings with golden tips spreading open, engulfing the
kitchen with a soft glow. He was majestic. He was beautiful.
He was beyond any words created by man.
Still, Uriel was next to me wearing tan slacks and a white
polo shirt. He was both Uriel in the kitchen and Uriel the
Archangel. "You're glorious," I said awestruck.
Uriel dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Wouldst thou
not trust thine eyes?"
Oh, damn me. And damn Archangels in the kitchen. "So
what do you want me to believe, Uriel?"
"Thy Demon is not to be trusted."
"No." The word was out before I could even think and the
Archangel in the kitchen was gone, just Uriel remained sitting
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65
at the kitchen counter and looking very put out. "He told me
Angels and Demons are born the same way. Is it true?"
"Angels art born from God's own love."
"I heard tell it was from Godly secretions," I said, glad my
mouth for once didn't run free and say born from Godly crap.
Uriel shrugged, his body barely moving. My ire had risen, his
accusations about Michael had gotten my emotions stirred up.
"Angel and Demons," Uriel said slowly, "art born from God.
The destinies put forth are those God must decide. Just as the
Demons, Kate, are destined to follow the fallen star."
"What about Satan anyway?" I lowered my voice. "Wasn't
he also created by God?"
Uriel didn't hide his discomfort. "Hell is for the fallen.
Satan is thine enemy and thy rival. To fight for God is to fight
for the light."
"To live for God is to live in the light," I said, "but really,
Uriel, if it wasn't for Satan, where else would the sinners go?
Although it does make me want to ask you about sin. Because
if lust really is a sin, I probably have a penthouse suite in Hell
reserved for me."
"Thou shouldst never makest such jokes, Kate. Thou art
meant for Heaven."
"Is there room for me?"
"There is always room in Heaven, Kate."
"Rumor has it," I whispered, leaning in close to Uriel,
"Satan can't say the same."
Uriel wasn't happy with me, and I wasn't happy with
myself either. I couldn't believe one good looking Demon was
affecting me this way and having me flirt with the possibility
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of actually listening to Satan's side of the story. What kind of
person chooses to listen to someone self-titled The Lord of
Lies?
I decided my best idea was to have no ideas and become
mindless for a while. So I offered to help Uriel make a meal,
and we got down to business.
By the pool was a propane grill and that seemed like the
easiest choice for a non-cook like Uriel. We deboned chickens
and rolled the pieces in spices. We sliced steaks and
mushrooms and I showed Uriel a simple marinade using soy
sauce and maple syrup. I alternated between worrying about
my immortal soul and wanting Michael naked and with me.
I also worried what it said about my immortal soul that I
still wanted a naked Michael with me despite everything I
heard and knew was true.
When we finished prepping the food Uriel and I took it out
on platters to where everything was set up. Sherry waved at
us from the lounger she was posing on by the pool. I saw a
halo of light to her right; some other dimensional cameraman
was staying attuned to her. I'm sure Sherry gave very good
TV.
The grill was in front of a cabana. Immediately I imagined
pillows, Michael naked and oiled muscles gleaming. The vision
wasn't quite as uplifting as that of Archangels with spread
wings but it was much more exciting. There was a triad of
tables and chairs, the same we had served Josie and Miss
Whiskery Withers their dinner.
"How doth the food preparate?"
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"Preparate? Is that a word?" I looked at the grill in
confusion. I'd barbecued before but my few experiences
involved charcoal briquettes, lighter fluid and matches. This
was a gas tank with knobs and buttons, totally outside my
realm of knowledge. I stared at it a few long moments; it
didn't stop being unknown to me no matter how long I looked
at it.
"Art there difficulties, Kate?"
"There sure art." I stepped forward and looked around.
There wasn't an on-off switch on the grill but dials marked
with green and red. I was betting that to cook it needed to be
turned to the green side so I did. Then I looked at it some
more because nothing happened.
I was waiting for something to happen. "Did you see an
instruction book for this thing?" I asked Uriel, but he looked
back at me as blankly as I looked at him. "Okay, gotcha. I'm
going to go check the kitchen drawers for an instruction book
for this. I'll be right back."
Uriel nodded at me. "Kate," he said to my retreating back,
"should not a flame burn it bright?"
"Oh, fuck no..." I turned back too late. Uriel had a small
flame leaping from him to the damned barbecue and then the
world exploded.
I was getting used to having my world turned inside out.
Maybe that's the norm when you start playing with the
extraordinary elements. I flew. Without wings and I hit the
ground hard, definitely not Angel class in my taking off or
landing abilities. It jarred me, but not enough I didn't
immediately turn and see Uriel ablaze.
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I screamed. Uriel was completely aflame and the inferno
covered the grill and nearby table, the chair cushions blazing
merrily. Licks of orange and blue fire were climbing up toward
the umbrella while the cabana seemed to be taking circus tent
proportions as flames covered it.
I was screaming Uriel's name, my feet trying to propel me
up and to him but I wasn't moving. "Kate, stop it. Kate,
stop!"
"Sherry, Uriel's on fire!"
"Stop it, Kate. He's an Angel. What do you do about the
fire?"
"Uriel..." Tears were streaming from my eyes, my head
was aching and my body felt as though it had been hit by a
truck. Through my shimmering vision I saw Uriel turn, his
body entirely engulfed in flame, and he lifted a hand to wave
at me.
"So does the fire burn itself out?" Sherry asked me. I
turned and looked at her, she was standing there nonplused,
her bikini top managed to have slid slightly and a nipple was
peeking out.
I sobbed and laughed to the nearest phone and called 911.
It seemed to me Satan wasn't going to have to work very
hard at all. Most of us, Angels included, managed to find all
sorts of ways to bring Hell into our lives.
666 Angel Lane in Allentown, Colorado was a lucky
address. It only took the fire department a few minutes to
have a truck at our house, and it took Tosh only a few
minutes more to arrive and begin admiring the beefy
firefighters.
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Sherry managed to lose her entire top in the chaos, and
Uriel finally stopped burning when he recognized the panic he
was causing.
I felt as burned out as the cabana. Sitting in a poolside
chair, I watched the clean-up of the previous craziness and
tried to get my mind to stop dwelling on the sight of a
burning Archangel.
"Well, that was fun." Jack bounced into the chair next to
me, his horns were gleaming which seemed like a danger
signal.
"That was not fun," I answered. I would have been angry,
but I wasn't able to sustain the emotion.
"Maybe not the fire," Jack said, "but chaos is just hot. And
I mean hot!"
"Shut up. You're just annoying." I closed my eyes; it was
all too much for me. I wanted to drift a little, get lost in some
sort of pleasure, away from crazy housemates from Heaven
and Hell.
"I should be insulted but I can take a lot you know." If it
weren't Jack, I might have felt bad. "Whether or not you
believe me, I'm your friend. After all, a friend would tell you
the horn-dogs are offering themselves to the heat beaters."
"What the fuck?" I opened my eyes to see Jack's grin and,
over by the charred remains of the cabana, a very happy,
naked Sherry surrounded by happy, dressed firefighters. This
was going to Hell faster than a bunch of dead lawyers.
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Chapter 6
"Who the fuck's brilliant idea was this?"
I knew something was up when Tino called a house
meeting. Michael had returned to the house but refused to
speak to anybody. He had disappeared until we heard the
whisper "Get your asses in the living room," where Tino was
waiting and Michael was sitting cross legged with a crosser
attitude.
"Want to talk?" I whispered to Michael and received a
glower for my question. Well, screw him. I then felt the
pleasant tingle from such a lovely thought.
"So Sherry asked and our producer agreed today's
challenges were above and beyond what anyone expected."
Tino had his game show host grin on and I looked at Michael,
who seemed even grimmer. "So to thank the people who
made these challenges so extraordinary, we're letting you
throw a pool party for the firefighters and the spa workers
who assisted you all today."
"Shouldn't say throw and pool in the same sentence
around Michael," Jack said. He and Sherry laughed, Team
Angel smiled and Michael looked like he was going to be sick.
"What do you mean a pool party?" I asked. Dread was
visiting my body the same way the black plague had visited
Europe. "And who's going to keep Sherry's swimsuit on?"
Sherry shot me a look, and Jack giggled enough to be a
teenage girl.
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"The party particulars will be up to all of you. Everyone has
been invited for Saturday morning. So party on, power
players!" Tino looked as excited as a weight watcher with a
chocolate bar. Sherry was almost jumping out of her seat, Z
looked as disgusted as I felt and Michael, well Michael got up
and walked out.
"Art thou satisfactory?"
"I don't want to throw a party. I don't want to keep playing
housemother. I want..." I sunk deep into the sofa cushions
and Uriel sat ramrod next to me. He was no worse the wear
for his fiery experience. My eyebrows had been singed, and I
felt like I'd been thrown off a bull and then trampled by it. I
was black and blue and bruised all over.
"What doth Kate want?"
Indeed. Could I tell an Archangel I wanted one of Satan's
army to stop glowering and start kissing? How would God's
right hand feel about my desire for Demon diddling? And
could I even begin to admit that I was trying to minimalize
my own feelings, which were growing stronger than I was
comfortable with?
"I want to go home," I said quietly. "I want my life back
without complications. I want my boring job, my best friend
and my TV."
"Kate," Uriel answered, "thou hast already lost thy
previous life. Thou art on a new road."
"I hear you, Uriel," I muttered. "I'm on the road to Hell.
But at least I'm not traveling alone."
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I found Michael outside, in the same place he had been in
the morning, but his mood was even worse. "I take it," I said,
approaching slowly, "you didn't like the facial after all."
I saw it clearly on his face: the anger, the vulnerability,
the humiliation. "What happened to you?" I planned on being
standoffish, but I couldn't. I sat and took his hands in my
own. "What did they do?"
"Kate." His voice was rough, his hands soft as they
grasped mine. "Kate, they touched me."
"That was the idea, Michael." I squeezed his hands. "A
massage and facial. And by the way, sir, you have lovely
skin."
"Damn it, Kate." He yanked his hands away and tucked
them against his stomach. "They touched me. The woman..."
His voice choked. "She did it."
My mind went into a blank rage. Some woman dared
molest my innocent War Demon and laid hands on his penis?
"Tell me who the bitch is, and I'll kill her."
"Isn't that against Human rules?"
"Fuck rules. Some bitch manhandled your dick, I'll rip her
fucking head off."
Michael snorted. Neither the sound nor the reason he
made it was amusing to me. His following laughter was much
more pleasant but confusing.
"Why is it funny?" I demanded. "I'm feeling a little
proprietary about that dick, mister."
"She didn't touch my penis." Michael grabbed my hands
and pulled me closer to him. "Kate, it was my feet. It was a
little too much for me."
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"Your feet." I tried to jerk away but Michael held tight.
"You bastard."
"Can a Demon be a bastard if he literally had no parents?"
Michael pulled me closer, I came flush to his chest, and I
stopped struggling. He was warm and smelled clean. Looking
down into my face, his eyes brilliant with flame. "Kate." His
voice dropped deeper, his eyes focused on my lips. "I like you
feeling proprietary about my penis. In fact, I'm more than
willing to share it whenever you want."
"Is that supposed to be a come on?" My heart was
thudding, and I hoped he couldn't hear it.
"More like an invitation," Michael said.
"You'd do better if you stopped talking," I grumbled.
Thankfully Michael had a short learning curve. Unlike the
morning, his evening kisses were not timid or uncertain. His
mouth was strong on mine and his tongue parted my lips
effortlessly. I sighed into it, my body resting against his, my
arms winding around his neck and my desire for him climbing
into the stratosphere.
His hands splayed against my back and it was the sexiest
feeling: I could relax against him and I knew he'd support
me. He could support me. This was the kind of man who
could catch a falling woman and guarantee she'd be placed
gently on her feet.
I wanted to eat him alive; instead, my tongue decided to
meet his and I teased into his mouth. I grasped his shoulders
and we went to war, Michael and I, each of us refusing
prisoners as we plundered and battled and oh, the hell with
war metaphors, it was amazing kissing.
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Michael pulled my shirt up and rubbed my back. I broke
the kiss, my entire self waiting for the moment he'd reach
forward and cup my breasts. I decided to encourage him and
lightly bit his lower lip, my teeth claiming it and then my
tongue licking the sting away.
"Kate," Michael groaned.
"Please," I asked breathlessly.
Michael's hands came around me, heaven waiting at his
touch.
"Hey, Katie-doo, why aren't you wearing a boob thing?
What's it called? A bra?"
Jack ran before Michael could get a hold of him. I was
hoping he'd catch him; I really wanted to see that little imp
fly.
There's no greater mood killer than a running, screeching
imp and a War Demon flinging curses after him. While I was
being ignored, I slipped back inside the house. I heard Uriel
and Sherry still in the living room, Z thankfully had
disappeared and Tosh seemed to be in permanent avoidance
of his housemates.
I slipped into my room and as was now my habit, checked
my bed first for any dead livestock. Briefly I wondered if I'd
be doing that for the rest of my life. Or maybe it would be a
story to tell the grandchildren some day: "Once when
Grandma was on reality TV, a silly little imp put a dead
chicken in my bed. What a jokester he was. Sure was glad
when he got ripped limb from limb and sent back to Satan."
Maybe I'd just read the grandkids the Velveteen Rabbit
instead.
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I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to get some clarity. I
was falling hard and what kind of craziness was that? Michael
wasn't a good chance for a future. In fact, he was probably a
lousy choice altogether even for a fling. He was danger on a
stick, and when one of us got eliminated from the game we
weren't going to be able to find a way for long distance
dating.
Maybe it was just that it had been so long since I'd been
involved with anyone. Either way I'd never met anyone that
affected me the way Michael did. There was something in how
he just looked at me that made my blood heat up and his
kisses were a guaranteed one way trip to "I don't care" and
"pass the Whoozy-Whip."
I was so busy considering the ramifications of involvement
with the man, I didn't even notice he'd been knocking on my
door for minutes. When he finally just walked in, I almost
jumped out of my skin.
"Didn't you hear me?" He was standing inside the door. He
looked so big and handsome and his eyes were burning red.
My knees barely held me as I stood.
"I didn't hear anything. Close the door, for God's sake."
"I was hoping you'd be eager," Michael said, reaching
behind him and swinging the door closed.
I had leapt up to do it myself but instead eliminated the
distance between us. I hit him lightly on the chest with my
fist. "Idiot. We could have cameramen standing right in the
open door."
"Oh. I forgot that." He looked almost sheepish. Or maybe
that was wolf in the sheepish clothes because his hand closed
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over my fist, and he moved our bodies so we were chest to
chest. Although with the height difference it was closer to
chest to stomach.
"We didn't finish what we started outside, Kate." His eyes
were dancing with flames and I was entranced. "I'm sorry I
let Jack get to me."
"Did you kill him? Please?"
"I didn't but for you I will. If you really want me to."
"Michael." I laid both my hands flat on his chest. "Where
do we go from here?"
"I was hoping to bed." If it had been anybody other than
Michael I would probably have laughed in his face. Michael
said it and shocks of desire spread through my body. My
nipples were tight, my breath was getting shallow and I just
wanted to forget all the reasons we shouldn't and celebrate
the reasons we should.
"We can't have a future." I wanted him, but I couldn't
ignore what stood between us.
"What kind of future do you want, Kate?" Michael dropped
his head lower toward mine, his breath on my forehead and I
lifted my face for a kiss. I wanted his kiss so badly.
"I want everything," I whispered.
"I want to give it to you. But our everything might end
tomorrow. Can you live with that?"
No. I wanted it all. I deserved it all. "I'll take whatever I
can have."
"Thank Earth for that," Michael rumbled, and finally he
kissed me.
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We were done with being tentative. Michael kissed me and
I kissed him back, our mouths fused as our bodies pushed
together. The children had left the house and the adults were
there to play now.
He cupped my head, his big hand cradling me easily while
he tilted my face to his. He smelled like a wood flame, and
my blood warmed in response to him. I pushed up against
him. I wanted nothing more than to feel his body over mine,
his large frame overwhelming my smaller one. I'd never been
with a man Michael's size before, there aren't that many
monoliths masquerading as men anyway, and the idea of
being crushed to him, crushed under him was sending my
desire spinning.
His free hand came under my shirt. His palm was soft on
my skin, and he lightly rubbed my back. I didn't want a light
touch, I wanted a War Demon.
I broke off from the kiss and took a step back. "Take your
shirt off." Michael looked surprised, his brow furrowed. But he
reached down and grabbed the bottom of his tee, and pulling
it up, exposed the most glorious body I had ever seen outside
of a fire department pin-up calendar. His chest was covered
by a downy film of black hair. The hair tapered into a small
line of perfectly red hairs that disappeared down behind his
khaki shorts. "It doesn't turn into a red arrow, does it?"
"What?" Michael looked slightly confused. "Do I get to
touch you again?"
"I'm thinking about it." I grabbed the bottom hem of my
blouse and pulled it up just slightly, giving Michael a glimpse
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of my stomach. Then I dropped it back down. "Take your
pants off."
"I don't think I want to." Michael tried for a pout but
looked slightly silly instead.
"I'll make it worth your while, big boy."
His hands went to the zipper and he hesitated. "Kate?
What are we doing? Is this part of how I'm supposed to be
your man?"
It was like being kicked in the stomach by happiness. It
made you go "oof!" but you were happy to do so. "I'm
seducing you, Michael." Actually I seemed to be seducing
myself because once his pants came off I knew I was going to
be the one in a puddle of wanting.
Michael apparently liked my answer, because he gave one
yank and his shorts were ripped in half, his hands clutching
material. He was commando and when he dropped his fists
and the fabric I took a moment to silently appreciate what I
saw. The hair trailing down his body ended not in an arrow
but a lovely penis, which seemed to jump when it felt my
gaze. His legs were tree trunks with that wonderfully golden
tone. The hair teasing over his body was generally black but
the nest where his penis jutted from was a flaming red. Just
like his eyes that were burning again with that wonderful look
that made me want to be exactly who I was and where I was.
I eased my top over my head and dropped it to the floor.
Michael responded by his hands opening and his shorts falling
tattered to the ground.
"Because you aren't Human," I said, "I'm going to explain
a few things to you. First, and most important thing, is
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women and weight." I cradled my stomach. "Women don't
want men mentioning their weight. Even if it's
complimentary. It's best to not say anything, just let the
woman know you're attracted to her body." Michael nodded.
His eyes were glued to how I was caressing up my body to
cup my breasts.
"Breasts shouldn't be referred to by a man as anything but
breasts. Keep the tits, boobs and hooters to yourself."
"I'd love to keep your tits, boobs and hooters to myself."
Michael took a step forward and I took a step back.
"I'm explaining something to you." My hands dropped to
my pants and I eased the first button open. "A smart man
listens."
"I'm not a man." Michael seemed to be power breathing,
his breath coming hard and fast.
"Man. Masculine. Same thing." I eased open the second
button. "And you need to learn. I mean, women are delicate
flowers."
"I want to fuck your rose." Michael slid his hand down to
his erection and fisted it. "Come on, Kate."
"You're a fast learner, Demon." I popped the third and last
button. "So learn this." I pulled my pants down in one fluid
motion and was pleased that my panties didn't travel down
with them. I stepped out of the fallen trousers and stood in
front of Michael with nothing but my pink panties on. "Women
like to be pursued."
Michael gave a modulated roar and leapt. I laughed,
happiness and lust both bubbling out as his arms circled me
and I was lifted in the air. I came down fluidly on the
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mattress, a War Demon next to me. He kissed me hard with a
closed mouth, and I grabbed him and pulled his body on
mine.
He felt so good on top of me. Our mouths meshing with
joy and enjoyment. I felt him reach between us and grasp my
panties.
"You wouldn't." I giggled.
"Wanna bet?" I didn't and he did. I discovered it stings to
have your panties ripped off.
"You're so beautiful." Michael's fingertips traced over my
skin, goose bumps followed in their wake.
"I'm not." I couldn't believe he was touching me so softly.
Every time I thought I had a handle on this Demon, he
showed another side to me.
"You're warm." His fingers grazed my sex. "And here
you're like a tropical forest."
"How does a Demon know about tropical forests?" My hips
lifted slightly, and his fingers touched my vulva.
"I read." Michael dipped his head down, and his mouth
nuzzled my collarbone. "Books taught me everything I know."
"Everything?" I squeaked.
His breath was warm on the swell of my breast. "They
taught me this, Kate." He opened me and his thumb pressed
down on my clit. I was breathless in sudden pleasure as his
fingers pushed and circled. He found the spot that made me
gasp and stroked, releasing more and more pleasure.
"Does Hell have a library?" I was trying not to lose control,
but the edge was right there. I know Michael heard it in my
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voice; the heat and the happiness, desire and joy mixing it up
and making a "yes" moment.
"The librarians are pretty strict there." Michael couldn't
hide the lust in his voice either. He was sounding raspy and
breathing harder. "Make a noise and they flay the flesh from
your bones." He parted my lips and his finger pushed into me.
"Oh Lord." I dripped desire, my thighs were wet and there
were tears forming at the corners of my eyes. "Those are
some nasty librarians."
"Those are the nice ones." Michael moved his body closer
to mine and his erection nudged my hip. "The mean ones like
to snack on the leftover bones."
"Jesus. Aren't there lunch breaks in Hell?" I reached over
and cupped his cock, squeezing the hot skin. Michael buried
his face in my neck as a second finger spread me even wider.
"Hell isn't known for having a great benefits package." He
moved inside me, and I arched up. My hand squeezed and
released his cock; I could feel the beads of liquid on him as I
squeezed up to the head.
"This is an excellent benefit." I was losing my ability to be
clever. I just wanted to gasp and maybe give a little scream.
Michael seemed to have found that spot in my vagina that
was a launching pad for shuddering, clawing, vocal good
times. I was starting to shudder; the clawing and
vocalizations were soon to start.
"I think you like this." Michael stroked up, and my fists
pounded down on the bed.
"I like a lot." It was agony just getting those words out.
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"I like this too." Michael dipped his head down and claimed
a nipple between his teeth. He lightly pulled, and I fell apart.
"What is a Tattoo Gami?"
I was cuddled against Michael's side, my body happily
boneless and my mind mostly mindless.
"How do you know about the Tatari Gami?" Michael's voice
sharpened, but his body was still warm and hard and his hand
drew lazy circles on my back.
"Jack mentioned them. What are they?"
"They're Demons, Kate."
"Like you?"
"Clouds no." Michael expelled a deep breath. "Do you know
there's a fiend called a Sytry that can influence people,
usually women to get them get naked?"
"I have my own hellion that does that." I patted Michael's
chest, and he chuffed a laugh into my hair.
"I wonder if Satan would let me transfer." He gave me a
small squeeze.
"So what's a Gami thing?"
"Tatari Gami are a type of Demon, they're not like anyone
here in Hell House."
"Do you have something to do with them?"
Michael's hand stilled on my skin, and I tilted my head up
to look at his face. Much of the red in his eyes was gone; he
looked almost Human and almost vulnerable. "I go to war.
That's exactly what I do. We patrol the outer layers of Hell
and try to contain the ones that are imprisoned there."
"Why are they imprisoned?"
"Because of what they are. What we are."
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"I thought you said Demons are born of God."
"Even God has an off day," Michael said humorlessly.
"There are many who are pure, like the Angels. Even as much
as Uriel might hate it, I'm the same bloodline he is. There are
some created in different ways. Some Satan himself created
from the fires of Hell. Some twisted from Humanity. Some
who just are because Hell just is."
"I think I'll cross it off my list of places I want to visit."
"Good idea." He reached down and splayed his hand on my
butt cheek. "Let's go to Disneyland instead."
I had a brief, dizzying thought of making love with Michael
as Mickey & Co. looked on, but I shook the thought off
quickly. "So what do these guys do that's so bad? Hack the
Devil's ATM? Make prank calls?"
"The Tatari Gami destroy everything they touch. Where
their feet fall, the earth is scorched."
Talk about a what-the-fuck moment. Humans worry about
fender benders and identity theft and there are creatures
who... "Wait one goddamned moment. What the hell are you
doing with creatures like that? Do you kill them?"
"The Gami are unkillable."
"Michael, that's not possible." I dug my elbow into his
chest and raised myself up. "They send you to kill unkillable
creatures?"
"No, Kate." Michael snaked an arm back around me and
pulled me to him. I was half lying on top of him, it was as
uncomfortable as hell, but I didn't care. "We keep them
confined. The Gods send them to the deepest Hell, but when
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they fight back up we're there to keep them from getting
anywhere. At least until the Gods come and send them back."
"That's your existence? I mean, what else do you do?"
Michael looked confused. "That's what we do. Sometimes
we're sent to other levels if Shax begin attacking Succubae or
something."
"What's Shax? Is that like a case of crabs?"
"They're a real bunch of suck-asses, is what they are. They
like to blind and deafen victims. Sometimes they cocoon them
and suck marrow, but usually they just like the chaos of
blindness and deafness."
"Let's not invite them to the wedding." I was in a state of
shock.
"We're getting married?" Michael gently pushed me off his
body and half sat. "I didn't know we had to get married after
sex. Is that new?"
After that conversation it was good to have a reason to
laugh. It took a few minutes before I could assure Michael we
weren't getting married. And then reassure him we wouldn't
have to get married if we had sex again. Or even a third time.
Thank God he had such a short learning curve.
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
85
Chapter 7
Nobody was willing to consider canceling the party. I tried
to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut and enjoy what was
happening with Michael.
I felt like a born again, deflowered virgin. Michael and I
couldn't keep our hands to ourselves, and if the others
noticed, they didn't give a damn. What they did give a damn
about was the party.
We found everyone in the kitchen. "The party's tomorrow,
and what are we serving?" Sherry had all the cabinets open
and was standing with Tosh.
"What about drinks?" Tosh asked. "Can we make Cosmos?"
"How does an Angel know Cosmos?" I asked.
"All Angels know Cosmos," Tosh said snottily.
"Faygala," Z muttered, and I loved him for it.
"Shouldst we not raise thy wine and drink to the Lord our
God?"
"All hail Satan, who wants a beer?" Michael said.
"Demon repent!"
"Up your ass, Uriel."
"Come on, guys." Mother Kate was back in form. "Can't we
just get along?"
"Beer and wine," Tino said. He entered the kitchen and
gave us his professional look. "You can agree on who's to go
shopping and beer and wine can be purchased. The food will
be available tomorrow."
"I want to go," Jack said quickly.
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"Can we leave him there?" I asked Tino.
"Blow me, Katie-coo."
"I'll go too," Michael said and glared at Jack. "Do some imp
bowling in the grocery store."
"God help me, count me in," I said.
"I shalt attend thee also."
And then we were four.
We weren't allowed to drive, which upon consideration was
probably a smart choice. We had a driver and a Hummer
station wagon to take us to the Smart Mart. I looked at those
in the car with me and decided housemother was the only
way to go.
"Okay, we're here for beer and wine and nothing else."
Jack was grinning like the evil imp he was, Uriel and Michael
were the embodiment of innocence. I was dead before we
even started. "Can you all stay out of trouble?"
"We're choir boys," Michael said, patting my thigh.
"You're gay now too?" Jack asked, and Michael growled at
him.
"What about you?" I asked Uriel. "Will you be burning
anything down?"
Uriel reached out toward me and for a moment time
stopped, all of us watching the trajectory of his hand. Then, in
a blink of an eye it was gone, back on Uriel's lap as if it had
never come anywhere near to patting my thigh. I felt Michael
exhale and wondered if a Hummer was strong enough to hold
in a rampaging War Demon.
"Let's do this thing!" Jack was bouncing in his seat.
"You better behave," I warned him.
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"I'll make sure he does." Michael made a fist and glared at
Jack, who quailed slightly.
"Kate," Jack whined, and I rolled my eyes.
"Let's just buy the booze and get back to the house, can
we do that?"
We stumbled out of the car, and for a moment the sun hit
us and I saw a bright glow surrounding Uriel and a fainter
glimmer surrounding Michael and Jack. I had to blink a few
times to make it disappear and for a reason I couldn't quite
comprehend, seeing the shimmers made me feel sad. It was
an inexplicable moment in a time of many inexplicable
moments.
The Smart Mart was a medium-sized grocery store, part of
a national chain. All clean aisles and harsh fluorescent
lighting. We were hardly the strangest group to ever enter
their store, but the minute we walked through the doors, the
atmosphere changed.
The cashiers stopped running purchases through their
scanners; instead they turned to look at us. Their customers
also stopped digging for their checkbooks and wallets or
grabbing the hands of the children trying to sneak candy bars
onto the purchase; they all gaped at us.
It was a woman about the size of Jack who approached
first. She walked haltingly toward Uriel, her face a mask of
awe. "Are you the Archangel Uriel?"
Uriel literally beamed. His countenance lit and before our
eyes he burned again with an inner fire, his entire being
alight, and the feeling of God's love rolled from him. My
breath caught, my pulse hammered and I wanted to fall to
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my knees in awe and gratefulness. Tears of joy dripped from
the corners of my eyes and even my sex swelled in pleasure.
"I seen you on TV. Can I have your autograph?"
"Kate, we art celebrities!"
And there we were: straight from Hellfire to celebrity. Only
in America.
Only in America would I find myself being pulled aside by
the store's Assistant Manager whose nametag read Tracie R.
and receiving advice on my love life. "Michael's a good
looking man," Tracie said. Her black hair was piled into a
tottering ball atop her head; I could smell stale cigarette
smoke on her. "But really, you should give that Archangel a
consider. He's pretty hot, even if he does talk funny."
"You have no idea how heated Uriel can get," I muttered.
"Damn, I didn't know anyone would really recognize us."
"You're like the coolest show on TV right now. Check it
out." Tracie took my arm and pulled me over to a check
stand, where I saw our smiling mugs on the cover of two
different magazines. The headline of TV View said Hell House:
Meet the Immortals. And on the cover of Happenings: Living
La Vida Limbo.
"This is terrible," I moaned.
"Well, it's not a very good picture of you, that's for sure."
Tracie patted my shoulder, it was not very comforting. "Still,
we've been watching, and you really need to forget Satan's
side and do the Archangel. Honey, that man is smoking."
"Tracie, you don't know the half of it." I felt a dull throb
behind my eyes.
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"He sure is fine looking." Tracie turned back to admire
Uriel, and we both jumped when we heard the crash from the
back of the store.
I swung around and saw Uriel knee deep in female
admirers. Michael and Jack were both missing.
"Shit, damn, crap." Forgetting Tracie, I moved as quickly
as I could to where I thought the crash generated.
"Oh my gawwwd, you're that girl!"
"Excuse me." I was trying to move through a sudden
gaggle of teens.
"You were like so all over that guy."
"Dude, did you see them macking?"
I was mortified having teenagers discussing my sex life in
a grocery store, that was true humiliation. It was easy to
forget we were on TV, in fact it was damned near necessary
to pretend we were living a normal life. This was a shot of
reality beyond reality television.
I wanted to take a moment and feel sorry for myself. If I
hadn't heard another crash, I would have.
"Damn it, Jack," I groaned and moved away from the
teens to the other clamor.
"She's macking on which one?" I heard one of the teens
say.
"I'm snacking on Satan," I called over my shoulder.
"Hey you!" A gruff masculine voice was yelling from the far
left side of the store. Could Jack have moved that quickly? As
I was turning to move toward the new direction I heard more
chaos to the right.
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I stopped and took a deep breath. None of this was my
responsibility. In fact, if Jack was doing damage maybe he'd
get arrested, tossed into jail and I'd never have to see him
again. Where was the drawback in that plan?
"Katie-bug." Jack called me, and I moved to follow. I
couldn't help it. This group of whatever they were needed me,
whether I was playing housemother, housewife or big sister.
"Jack, where the fu—oh, fuck." Jack was standing in the
middle of a collapsed shelf of feminine hygiene products. Next
to him stood an imposing man somewhere between the size
of Jack and Michael. A large, normal Human male wearing a
security officer's uniform and looking very mad was crowding
into Jack's space.
"I'm sure this is a misunderstanding," I said feebly.
"Damn straight it is," Jack said loudly. "I demand proof. Or
pudding. I want some proof in my pudding. Or poof in my
pudding, so get me Tosh."
"Jack, shut up."
"Jack?" The man looked daggers at Jack. "You said your
name was Eric Shin."
"Eric Shin?" I looked at Jack with disgust. "You are such a
little pisser."
"This is my wife Ivana Impinme." Jack wiggled his
eyebrows and his horns waggled slightly.
"I do not. I am not." I was getting flustered. "Jack, can
you try to behave for just a minute? Please?"
"Hey, stop that guy!" The voice came from the left of the
store, but Jack was standing next to me.
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"Kate! Where are you?" It was Michael's voice, and I
turned toward it.
The security guard grabbed my arm. "You ain't going
nowhere, Mrs. Shin."
"That was Michael," I said. I was feeling panic set in.
"Ivana," Jack said, "did you forget why you married me?"
I looked at Jack, whose horns honestly were waggling in
delight. His eyes were almost pink. "Why I married you?" I
asked. "It sure as hell wasn't for the sex."
"You wound me, darling."
I looked at the boxes of tampons on the floor, the plastic
bags of aerodynamic menstrual pads and Jack. This is what
my life got reduced to? "Hey, lover," I said, "do you know
why they don't let blondes skydive when they're having their
periods?"
"Tell me, Ivana-doo-doo."
"Because they always pull the wrong cord."
Jack's face was momentarily blank, until he got it. Then he
exploded. Laughter slammed from his body and he dropped
down, his fists tightening on feminine hygiene products.
"Katie-roo-doo, that's funny!" A bottle of feminine hygiene
spray exploded, and we found ourselves covering our eyes as
Spring Rain scented mist settled over us. Tampons started to
break loose from their boxes, little plastic wrapped cotton
rockets firing blindly.
"The wrong cord," Jack howled. The security guard made a
grab for Jack, who dodged him. I sidestepped and took off,
running toward the other side of the store. I heard the
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security guard with Jack give a yell and Jack's voice, high
pitched and gleeful, "Pull my cord! Pull my cord!"
So where was Michael? I jogged through the store,
checking each aisle. Strangely, I could find no customers,
each aisle was deserted, something I'd never seen in any
grocery store before.
"Have you ever seen such muscles?" It was a woman
speaking and her companion answered something that
sounded like, "wouldn't cha wanna boff'm?"
Muscles and boffing made me immediately assume Michael
was their topic of conversation.
I found him standing in the middle of the alcohol aisle. He
had a case of beer tucked under each arm and one in each
hand. "Kate, there you are!" He grinned, and I sighed in relief
at seeing him. Then I wondered why I was relieved, since
there were two security guards on both sides of him and a
group of gawkers watching the proceedings.
"What's going on?" I approached slowly.
"Lady," one of the security guards said, "is he with you?"
"He is."
"Maybe you could tell him to put the cases down."
"Michael, put the beer down."
Michael shrugged and opened his hands and lifted his
arms. We all jumped as beer cases smacked the ground.
"So what's the problem?" I asked the security guards. My
heart was thumping pretty hard, and I felt a sheen of
perspiration cover my entire body. Who knew a trip to the
grocery store could generate so much excitement?
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"You need ID to buy beer, and this, uh, man doesn't have
any."
I was struck momentarily dumb. Who would have thought
about that? Thinking more about it, I didn't have any ID on
me either. How were we supposed to buy alcohol? Or bail out
Jack for that matter.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Bill, get your head outta your ass.
That there is the War Demon of Hell House." Tracie R. to the
rescue.
"Sorry T, but even War Demons need a driver's license to
buy alcohol."
"Shit, Bill, doubt Satan has the Demons driving Toyotas
down below. Do they, Mike?"
Michael was looking at me, confusion etched across his
face. "Am I Mike?" he asked me.
"I believe so."
"I've never driven a Toyota in Hell," he told Tracie. I heard
a snicker, and glared in the general direction it came from.
"Come on, Bill, let the people take their beer and go."
"Not without ID." Bill obviously was not going to be
swayed by general opinion. And the general opinion of the
people around us seemed to be that they wanted Michael to
have whatever he wanted.
"How about Kate?" someone asked.
"My purse is in another state," I said apologetically.
"Maybe Satan can come buy Michael's beer for him." Oh, a
joker in the crowd. And it wasn't even Jack. He was probably
in cuffs and being beaten by a different security team. We got
Team Bill, the ID police.
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"You know," I said, directing my remark to Tracie, "we
weren't even thinking. We don't have money either. This
wasn't very well planned."
"Where's Sherry?" someone else asked. "That girl is the
bomb."
"She's smoking," another agreed.
"What am I? Chopped liver?"
"You're smoking hot," Michael said. We looked at each
other, and I swear Michael was right; we almost began to
burn. I could feel heat envelope my body, and again, I was
shocked at the amount of need that rushed through me. If
Michael had crooked his finger, I would have let him taken me
there and then, regardless of an audience, of television
cameras. The War Demon could take me, and I wouldn't say
no.
"Oh my God, I want to have your baby." She couldn't have
been more than twenty, and she launched herself at Michael
with the fanaticism of the young. My sudden urge to rip her
head from her shoulders and feed her to Jack might have
been because of her size two body in one of the longest belts
masquerading for a skirt I'd ever seen. Or maybe it was her
long, straight blond hair. Or her flawless skin. Or the fact that
she was trying to kiss my War Demon, who was suddenly
frozen in place, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"That's Lynn's kid," someone said, not caring how her
voice carried. "Guess sleeping around is genetic."
"Not with my War Demon it isn't." Poor Michael could fight
Tatari Gami, but a twenty-year-old trying to climb up his body
and steal a kiss paralyzed him. The heat had been replaced
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by ice, the red rimming his eyes contracted, making him look
more like a frightened virgin than a hot, Hell created Hero.
"You're so epic," she simpered, and pulled on Michael's
neck to bring his face down to hers.
"That's more than enough," I stated, stepping forward.
"Ivana," a familiar voice screeched, "I don't vanna go to
jail."
"Oh, shit on a shingle!" I reached Michael's side and
grabbed a handful of Lynn's kid's shirt. "This Demon is mine.
Find your own, bitch."
"You can't talk to me like that." She was feisty as well as
over the top with my Demon. I had at least thirty pounds on
her and a lot more mean so my "fly by the seat of my pants"
plan might work.
"Never kiss another woman's War Demon." And I hit her.
I'd never hit anybody before, and I didn't like it. In fact, I
was scared to death, because I figured she was going to hit
me back. Only a raging idiot wants to be hit.
I'm an idiot.
Lynn's kid knew more about fighting than I did. I flailed,
fists flying and not connecting with anything, while Lynn's kid
grabbed a handful of hair and pulled. It hurt, my head felt like
she was pulling it off by the scalp.
It also woke Michael up. Of course, the jeers of the people
watching had something to do with it too, I'm sure. It also
didn't hurt that Lynn's kid was wearing a shirt that easily
tore, so while she pulled me down by the hair, I reached up
and tore her shirt.
She really should learn to wear a bra.
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The crowd roared in pleasure as breasts were exposed. I
felt the little bitch reach down to get revenge, and I kicked
out and gave a scream.
"You're doing great, sweetheart," I heard Michael
encourage.
"Where's Jack?" I screeched.
"Show us more tits!" That was Jack's voice.
"Get us out of this!"
Lynn's kid probably knew the fun was going to end, and in
response she decided to unsheathe her claws. Nails raked
down my face and reserved me a front row seat to agony
central. I howled in pain and abandon. I wanted to hurt the
bitch the same way she hurt me.
I started raining blows out, my fists connecting again and
again. Tears and pain and anger had blinded me but the
feeling of my fists hitting solid muscle was pleasing. I kept
hitting even after I felt a strong arm lift me. "That's okay,
sweetheart," Michael said, humor coloring his words, "you hit
me a few times now. I consider myself properly hit."
"What the hell?"
"Don't worry," Michael said, "I took care of it."
I looked around from the lofty area of above where Michael
was holding me. Thankfully he hadn't gone completely
caveman and thrown me over his shoulder, but he was
holding me up like a mother holding a two year old. It was
certainly not dignified, but perhaps it was better than Lynn's
kid, who Michael apparently had picked up by the scruff of her
neck and tossed like a ball into the gaggle of security guards,
who had been enjoying the girl fight.
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"What about the beer?" I asked.
"Are you hurt?" Michael jogged toward the front.
"What took you so long?"
"I wanted to see boobs." I hit Michael again, and he
snickered.
We were out the door and I smacked him once more. "We
need Jack and Uriel."
"Right here, Ivana." I looked to the side, and Jack was
jogging alongside us, he was hard to see since he was holding
three cases of beer that dwarfed him.
"Don't call me that," I groused. "Where's Uriel?"
"He wasn't there."
"What do you mean, not there? Put me down, Michael,
where's Uriel?"
"Katie-coo, he wasn't in the store."
The Hummer door was open and Michael deposited me
inside. "Wait a minute," I argued, but Michael climbed in after
me. "We can't leave without Uriel."
"Katie-hoo-hoo, he left without us."
Jack had somehow gotten in the car also, and I saw a
small pile of beer cases in the back. "Where'd all the beer
come from?"
"Apparently Piper ordered ahead," Jack said, shrugging.
"Who knew?"
"You mean we went through all that for no reason?" I felt
the utter futility settle around my shoulders like Michael's
arm. "All that for no reason at all?"
"We pulled the wrong cord," Jack said, and I turned to
glare at him. "Hey Ivana, who cut you?"
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"That's so not funny."
"Nobody should hurt you but me." Before I could even
squeak Jack lunged forward and slapped me hard across the
face.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelled. I turned and
looked at Michael, who was watching us with a vapid
expression. "And you! You'll toss him for a word and sit there
when he hits me? What is wrong with you both?"
"Kate," Michael said calmly, "he fixed your face."
It took me a moment to understand what Michael told me.
I lifted my hand to my face and felt along my unbroken skin;
the sting had disappeared with the injury. Only the throb of
Jack's slap remained on my cheek.
"Jack," I breathed, gratitude and awe crowding my
feelings.
"Nobody hurts you but me," Jack said stubbornly.
"Thank you, I think."
We arrived back at Angel Lane with one imp, one War
Demon, a dozen cases of beer and no Archangel. "Kate, I
need to talk to you." Sherry was lying in wait and pounced
the moment we walked in.
"Uriel's missing." I had no time for anything but the panic I
was feeling. "Someone needs to call the police."
"Kate, this is really important." Sherry had grabbed my
arm and stopped my frantic movement. I was ready to deck
her.
"A missing Archangel is pretty damned important too,
Sherry. What do you need?"
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She lowered her voice but not enough that a clever,
otherworldly sound technician couldn't pick it up. "I slept with
Tino."
Just like road kill or someone in a club vomiting on their
friends, that got my attention. "Can I please take care of
problem number one right now? In case you didn't hear me,
Uriel's missing. Someone might have kidnapped him."
"A couple of fat cheerleaders." Jack walked in behind us
and gave Sherry a pinch on the ass. "Uriel's probably showing
them his wings while they're showing him their pussies."
"Shut up, Jack."
"You know you wanna, Ivana," Jack said in a singsong
voice. "Don't pull the cord. Woo-hoo!"
"Doesn't anybody care about a missing Angel?" God, these
non-people were so frustrating.
"Kate, I really need to talk to you." Sherry looked ready to
cry.
"Don't call the police." Tino came into the hall and then
stopped when he saw Sherry.
"Where should I put the beer?" Michael asked, as he
walked, balancing cases like a Chinese acrobat. I wanted to
take a moment to goggle, but Sherry pulled on my arm, while
Tino flushed bright red and started to stammer.
"Sherry, can you wait just one damned minute!"
"You don't have to yell." She blinked rapidly, and I felt a
monster headache coming.
"I'm sorry. Beer in the kitchen. Sherry, really, I'm sorry.
And what the fuck do you mean don't call the police? Uriel's
missing, for Christ's sake!"
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"Well, you don't have to bring up his name." Sherry
pouted. "Meet me up in my room when you're done here."
She gave a pointed look at Tino, who flushed an even brighter
red, and she flounced off. All the men stopped and watched. I
don't think I ever had a group of men watch my ass as I
flounced, but then again, I don't know if I ever really
flounced. Certainly I never made an exit of Sherry's caliber.
"Why aren't we calling the police?" I rounded on Tino.
"Word from Piper." Tino lifted his hands in surrender.
"Apparently they know where Uriel is, and he's okay."
"How can he be okay?" I wanted to hit someone. Did
everybody sign a contract to leave common sense behind
when agreeing to do a reality television show? "Uriel was in a
grocery store, and now he's with strangers. He might be
hurt."
"Horizontal tango," Jack yelled from nowhere.
"Go kill him," I muttered at Michael.
"Meet me upstairs later," Michael whispered back. I stared
at him in bafflement. I was worried about missing Archangels,
and he was thinking about sex.
"Come with me, Kate." Tino took my arm and led me
toward the living room. We settled on the white sofas, and I
saw the light at the edge of my vision. Another touching
reality TV moment, courtesy of Hell House.
"Are you in love with Uriel?"
I was shocked by the question. My body still felt flushed
from the night before with Michael's touches and kisses. I
wanted to wrap myself back around him and feel him buried
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inside me. I wanted Michael in ways I'd never before wanted
any Human man.
"No, I'm not in love with Uriel. But I care about him. Why
don't you?"
Tino was in professional host mode and my hostility didn't
register with him. "There have been lots of intimate moments
between the two of you, Kate. Would you like to address
that?"
"Would you like to address my ass back home?"
"Kate," Tino said in warning.
"Well, what about you?" I was pissed and didn't care. "Do
you think sleeping with a contestant is part of the hosting
duties? Or do you love her?" I put extra emphasis on the
word love.
"We're not talking about me," Tino said.
"We're not talking about me anymore either." I got up and
glared down at Tino. "I can't believe this, Tino. I thought you
were one of the good guys."
"Kate, don't make any mistakes." Tino stood and looked
down at me. "This is all about winning, in one way or another.
As much as you think this is life, it isn't. Everybody has a side
and you better choose yours."
Nothing felt familiar anymore. My life previous to Angel
Lane had been quiet and far from dramatic. I liked my life,
my friends were people I could trust, my job was boring and
sometimes frustrating but it was something I did well, and I
was compensated for.
I didn't date often because I didn't meet many men who
liked me when I liked them. The ones who liked me were
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usually men who left me cold. I'd left the dreams of white
picket fences behind many years earlier.
I thought I understood life. I thought that we lived, we
worked, we loved and we were loved and then God welcomed
us. I thought bad people chose Hell and the rest were smart.
I thought I had it all figured out.
I obviously didn't know anything. Demons could make a
heart feel alive and Angels could piss a person off. Lucifer
could have plans as intricate as God's. Everybody had an
angle and if you didn't figure out your own, you could find
yourself fighting between untenable choices.
I wanted to run away but there was nowhere to go. Some
paths we might not choose, but we can't step off. I wasn't
ready to try to deal with Sherry, so I thought I could at least
hide. The garden beyond the pool was a good place to
escape. There was no way Sherry would think to look where
the world was quiet.
I found Z there instead. He was sitting on a bench in the
far reaches of the garden. A row of sunflowers arched toward
the sun and Z seemed to be following their example. I
muttered apologies and began to inch away.
"Join me, Kate. That is if you aren't busy with something
else."
Too busy trying to get away from myself. I joined Z on the
sun warmed bench.
"So where's our Archangel?" Z asked.
I buried my face in my hands. "Oh Lord, Z, Uriel's
disappeared and nobody seems to care."
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"Sweetheart, don't worry about Uriel." Z patted my
shoulder. "He might be a schmuck, but he's also God's
favorite boy. Trust me on this."
"Are you one of God's other favorites?"
Z snorted. "I might be chosen, but I'm nobody's favorite.
I'm too much a farshtinkener."
"A what?"
"It means a rotten person."
"Not you, Z. You're a sweetheart."
"No, Kate, not me. I think you might be the sweetheart of
Angel Lane."
I didn't know how to respond, so I asked a question that
had been on my mind. "Are Rabbis anything like priests, Z?"
"So it would seem." He looked at me from those calm, blue
eyes, and when he smiled, the gentleness of it eased
something inside of me. "We're supposed to be teachers.
Leaders in the community. Are you looking for a confessor,
Shayna?"
"I think I am. And what does that mean?"
He smiled. "Shayna is a beautiful girl. You have to forgive
an old man for being foolish with a pretty woman like you."
"Do you always say the right thing?"
"Why don't I listen and you talk? Then, Shayna, I'll talk,
and you'll listen. Then we'll see if I say what you want to
hear, okay?"
"Okay." I looked away and took a deep breath. God, the
last thing I wanted to do was whine, but I was feeling
battered in so many ways. "I feel I'm lost, Z. It was easy to
be here when I didn't want to be here. I could stand back and
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hate the place but like the people, well, some of the people.
Nobody could like Jack. But it's changed, and I'm out of my
depth."
"How did it change?" God, the blush burned its way up my
body. "Ah, Michael. Has he changed everything that much for
you, Shayna?"
"There's a song called Love Changes Everything, and it's
true, Z."
"So you love the Demon?"
"Does that mean Hell for me?" There. I said it finally.
Would loving Michael promise me a place in Hell for eternity?
I burned for Michael already, would I burn for Satan because
of it?
"Love isn't a sin, Kate. It never has been. It's only a sin
when bad choices are made from loving someone."
I felt the tears well in my eyes. "I don't know how to
choose in this situation. Does my choice mean I'm choosing
where my eternity is? Can I choose for one but be forgiven by
the other? Can I choose love and avoid damnation?"
"Bubbeleh, you might not believe this but your place is
already assured."
"That's not true, Z. We both know it isn't. We have free
will. We have the Devil doing Madison Avenue to try to get
people to choose better. God is up there staying silent on the
whole deal but sending you and the others to battle in his
name. I'm stuck here, terrified that if I follow my heart I'll
burn forever, but if I follow my head, I'll make the worst
mistake of my life."
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"Ai yai yai, sweetheart, that's not what God intended for
you." His serenity was an open door for my soul to step
through. Just his simple declaration eased some of my fear
and his gentle smile eased so much more. "Do you know
maybe I might have missed Heaven?"
"I know you were a terrific Rabbi, Z. There's no way you
weren't promised pearly gates."
He grinned. "Ai, that's true. But I was all Rabbi and no
man. My wife lived forgotten by her husband as I pursued
God's word. My children grew up with a shadow, because I
chased miracles from Heaven and forgot the ones here on
earth."
"I'll bet you weren't as bad as you think. Knowing you Z,
you were wonderful and couldn't see it in yourself." Was I
truly comforting an Angel? Life did have strange twists.
"I wasn't bad, Shayna, I was neglectful. My wife found
happiness as a Rebbetzin and a mother. My daughter married
a wonderful man, and she was a wonderful mother herself.
My son, he had a prosperous life. Despite that, I've had many
timeless times to look back at my life and see the mistakes."
"This is one of those life experiences, isn't it, Z?"
He chuckled and patted my hand. We both sat there
awhile, hands folded against each other and our eyes lost in
the distance of our own thoughts.
Sherry had managed to change into a pair of shorts and an
ironed shirt that made me think immediately of Pam. She
dressed similarly at work.
I sighed when I entered my bedroom and found her
waiting. I knew she wanted to do the girl-chat thing but my
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head wasn't going to process her agonies well. I would have
rather stayed in the garden with Z, or even hid underneath a
War Demon for awhile.
"I've been waiting," she said petulantly.
I could have answered with some much needed snark, but
Sherry wasn't able to recognize that the world was large
enough for more egos than just hers. A good bitchy attitude
would be wasted.
"Why do you want my help?"
"I thought this would be easier for you since you're
Human, and this is Humanity."
"This isn't Humanity." I almost laughed at the idea.
"Disappearing Archangels, imps in grocery stores, War
Demons and dead Rabbis. Trust me, my everyday life is
nothing like this."
"Neither is mine, you know." Sherry blinked rapidly. "I
haven't been Human in a long time, Kate, and I'm starting to
remember what it's like, and I don't like it." She sat forward,
her hands fisted on her knees, her eyes looking like burning
embers. "Do you know why I fucked Tino? Not because I'm
Sherry, but because for a minute, I was Scheherazade. I felt
like I felt back then, and Kate." Her voice lowered. "I'm so
ashamed."
I thought of times Pam and I sat with a few bottles
between us and something made of chocolate and bemoaned
our bad bedroom choices. How many times had one of us
talked ourselves into feelings that weren't there and then
cried on each other's shoulders because we never should
have done that thing we did?
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I felt a wave of sadness, there were no Pams in Hell, I'd
bet. The idea of an eternity without my best friend made my
heart feel hollow. Poor Sherry might have never known a Pam
at all.
"Do you love him?" I was thinking about all the
unfortunate couples at Angel Lane. Improbable romances.
Happily never afters.
"Love him? Shit no. I was a power fucker way back then.
You heard of the One Hundred and One Arabian Nights? That
was one hundred and one sexual positions the Raj and I
practiced. Clouds, he was hung like a horse, we fucked all the
time. I was sorry when I betrayed him."
I didn't remember this in any of the stories. Just when you
think you know a mythical storyteller, she turns out to be
completely different than you thought.
"So what does this have to do with Tino?" I asked.
"I think he just reminded me of the Raj."
"Well hung?"
"No, Tino can't claim that." Ouch. I closed my eyes and
wondered if this would end soon. This was moving from TMI,
too much information, to TMPI, too much painful information.
"Tino just seemed like the man in charge, and I like to fuck
the big guys."
"Are you happy? Did you enjoy it at least?"
"What's to enjoy? It's just sex"
"Are you serious?" I sat forward and stared at her. "Not
even mentioning the great stuff about it, I mean a hard cock
and a hard fuck...what about just touching a man's body?
That isn't just sex."
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"Is it always about you?" Sherry stood and gave me a look
of contempt. "You know if you hadn't shown up, I'd be the
only woman here now."
"How is this all about me? Don't you have any idea what's
going on around you?"
"Oh, I know." The sweet storyteller had a side Satan loved,
it was something I shouldn't forget. She could play nice, but
to her it was all play. "Don't you just look like the perfect little
Human girl trying to make everybody love her? Oh, and the
compassion thing you do. That's really cute. I'll bet they love
that in Peoria."
"You've got to be joking." I stood also and stared at her.
"You're the star of this show, you know that. Tino tells us all
the time you are the number one internet search."
"Not anymore." Sherry blinked back tears, real tears.
"You've got the better numbers now. Everybody loves the
little Human girl."
"Is that what this is all about?" I shouldn't have been
surprised, but damn if I wasn't. She slept with Tino, she
hated being Human. No, Sherry was just upset she might not
be top dog. Or would that be bitch? Trying to keep up with
her was impossible. Had I really believed she and I were
destined to be friends? "Did you sleep with Tino just because
I'm sleeping with Michael?"
"You need to leave the game."
"Fuck that, and fuck you. Or go fuck Tino right now. I can't
believe this."
"You don't want to be here anyway." Sherry was
wheedling.
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"You're right. I don't want to be here anymore. At least not
here with you."
"Don't walk away from me, Kate." I was heading toward
the door. "Satan has an offer for you." I froze. "Get
eliminated from the game and he'll make it worth your while."
I turned. "You get something if you convince me to leave?"
"We're not enemies, Kate."
"No, and we're not friends either. So what would make my
becoming a lying cheat be worth my while?"
"Name your price." Avarice was in the air. Gods, how had
this happened? How dimwitted had I been to believe that
Gods could play a game and not try to influence the results? I
was fucked either way I turned. Fucked yes, but quitter, no.
"Can he promise me Heaven?"
Sherry's eyes were hard, a bruise of black inside the red.
"You know he can't."
"He should know I can't either."
"It can be bad to walk away from such good generosity."
"Even worse to stay and listen." On that, I walked out.
Once the door was closed behind me, I started to shake.
Sherry couldn't know how tempted I was to leave. I was
unprepared for the options placed in front of me, unprepared
for the results of whatever choice I made.
It wasn't as simple as saying dark or light, day or night. To
choose for the heart and the soul might seem like a single
solution, but to decide for the soul condemns the heart for
eternity.
In my natural environment, I'd count on Pam and nachos
to help me understand my choices. A good friend and a bad
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food sometimes are all life needs. Without Pam I was bereft,
but there were still junk foods and empty calories to trust in.
I went to the kitchen believing.
It was all there as I hoped it would be. I found potato
chips and garlic dip. I found some chocolate kisses and Oreo
cookies. Even the diet soda I preferred was available. I
spread the food out before me and started.
The thing about a good food binge is you know you've
done it properly when you hurt when you're done. Potato
chips should be consumed till one's mouth is bruised by salt.
Chocolate should melt over the tongue until the taste of
chocolate is so far mixed with saliva that you swallow
chocolate flavor for hours later.
Eating should go from pleasure to rote. From thinking
chips and dip have to be what ambrosia is, to hand places
food on mouth, mouth chews, salivary glands salivate, throat
swallows, and nothing is tasted.
I ate. I swallowed and then ate more. My mind turned
everything over again and again, until my thoughts were
nonsense. I was turning to complete mindlessness, munch
over matter and that was how Michael found me.
"I've been looking for you." His brow creased in concern,
but I was moderately oblivious at that point. My lips were
feeling thicker from the salt consumption, but my brain was
still too clear.
"Sorry," I muttered. "Got a little hung up." I hesitated. I'd
never binged in front of another person, much less the man I
wanted to be naked with.
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"Hung up." Michael's lips quirked. "Looks like an
interesting hang-up. Do you share?"
"Not usually." I pushed the dip away. "So what's up?"
"What's up? Okay, little Human girl, now you're worrying
me. Kate, why are you here and not upstairs making your
Demon almost sweat?"
"I'm not having a very good day." I looked at the chocolate
wrappers all over the table, felt the salt swell in my mouth
and wanted to have a nice little laugh or cry.
"I know you're upset about Uriel..."
"Oh hell, apparently I'm the only one out of the loop with
Uriel. He seems to either be screwing cheerleaders or running
with Heaven's Angels, but no matter what, it's none of my
business. Humans have no business with immortal types, you
know."
"Heavenly defecation! What happened to you?" Michael's
eyes burned a solid red. His mouth was a grim line, and his
hands fisted on the table. He looked scary, and it made my
insides turn, either with excitement or in a noxious
combination with all the junk food I just consumed.
"Satan wants me out of the game," I said, then
immediately wished I could take the words back. Michael
changed before my eyes, shockingly going still. He looked like
a sudden wax statue.
"How do you know?" His voice was low, edged with panic.
"He sent an offer through Sherry. He wants me to offer
myself for elimination somehow. In return, he'll give me what
I want."
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"What did you say?" I didn't answer immediately, and
suddenly Michael was out of his seat. He slid onto his knees
and shouldered my chair over so he was directly in front of
me. His hands were iron around my calves. "What did you
say, Kate?"
"I said no, damn it. No." I tried to shove away from him,
but he was holding me hard. "I want a chance at Heaven and
making deals with Satan won't get me there." The tears
threatening to fall finally started. "I'm fucked no matter what.
I piss off God, I piss off Satan. I fall in love with a man I can't
have a future with. And Uriel is schtupping some cheerleaders
or something, and nobody gives a damn."
"Clouds, Kate." Michael put his head in my lap.
"Maybe...fuck it. Maybe you could just leave the game
without making a deal."
"I'm not leaving."
"There has to be a way to get out of the game."
I made a fist and hit Michael on the top of the head. "I said
I'm not leaving. Earth to War Demon."
Michael lifted his head and gave me a look of savage
emotion. "If I have to carry you from here..."
"You'll be doing it over a lot of bodies, butthead."
"Why would you stay?"
"You wouldn't understand." Michael never had family, and
I was willing to bet the Demons in Hell didn't hang out
together at a local bar and lift a glass to Demon brotherhood.
How could he understand I was no longer there as Kate
Thomas, lover of old Marx Brothers movies and tandoori
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chicken, but now somehow, I was the sole player at Hell
House for Team Human.
"Do you understand?" Michael slid his hand under my
pant's cuff and grasped my ankle. "You have to win, Kate,
and then choose the fate of Limbo."
"I know that."
His hand slid up my calf. "What do you know about it
really? Humanity keeps choosing Hell as their final resting
place, and it's filling up at ten times the rate of Heaven. Satan
isn't kidding. He wants Limbo, and we were instructed to
come here and get it for him."
"Well, you better step up your game then." I was trying to
be funny, but Michael was running more than his hand up my
leg, he was running desire through my body. My stomach was
tight from my binge and from the sudden stirrings of wanting
this man.
"I can't play a game with you, Kate." His other hand came
up and cupped my mound, even through the layers of clothes
he made me burn. "I don't even know if I'll be forgiven for
this, but Dark Lord forgive me, I love you."
"Oh God, aren't we a pair?" I felt happiness and terror
bubble up inside me. I found Mr. Right, and he was a War
Demon sure to piss off Satan. "We're the perfect pair all right,
bet we could piss off all deities before this competition is
done."
"We're fucked, is what we are." Michael withdrew his
hands from me. "Cursed to eternal fucktitude."
"I suppose that means, if you can't join them, fuck them?"
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"Better you fuck me, Human girl. Let's take advantage of
what little we have."
"We don't stand a chance do we, Demon lover?"
He didn't answer. His hands went to the waistband of my
pants, and he began to fumble with the zipper. His fingers
were too thick, his touch not careful enough. I pushed his
hands away. A woman has to learn early to take care of
things by herself. I popped the top button and let the zipper
down. I lifted my hips, and Michael pulled my pants and
panties down my legs. He stopped at my feet and pulled my
shoes off. He removed my socks, his hands cupping each
foot's arch and warming it against his palm.
The mixed tastes of the food I'd eaten were still heavy in
my mouth. Michael rose slightly from his crouch and brought
his face to mine. "Before you kiss me," I warned him, "my
mouth probably tastes like a junk food cesspool."
"I don't know what that is." He pressed his lips against
mine softly. Ye Gods, how lovely to kiss someone with closed
mouths and care. Despite my bare ass on the kitchen chair,
there was something innocent between us. Then the pressure
intensified and mouths opened.
"Uriel's balls!" Michael sat back on his heels and stared at
me. "Junk food cesspool?"
"What do you want? Satan is putting me on his shit list. I
deserved a little food binge."
Michael grimaced. "Tatari Gami are not as frightening as
what I just tasted."
"I'd say go to hell, but it isn't effective with you."
"Say fuck you, Michael."
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"Fuck you, Michael."
"Now say fuck me, Michael."
"Fuck me, Michael."
"Okay, Kate." He snickered like a teenage boy, and I
couldn't help it, I smiled. Next I'd have to think about taking
him to a Demon high school prom or something. We could
start reliving Demon childhood memories that never were.
I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled his face up to
mine. "Fuck me, Michael." My voice was no longer playful, I
was no longer playful. "Fuck me like a Demon fucks."
His face was flushed, his eyes almost copper. "Kate..."
There was warning in his voice.
"Do it. I can take it."
"Angels above," he cursed and then ground his mouth
against mine. The kiss was hard, sweetness gone as his teeth
knocked against mine. Breath was driven from me, and he
swallowed it.
He lifted me, his arms around my waist and deposited me
on the edge of the kitchen table. There were the remnants of
my binge, but my Demon was unconcerned. I was also, as his
hands moved from feeling the pulse racing in my neck down
my torso, blouse burning open as his touch trailed down me.
My blouse and bra literally burned open, but my skin felt
no heat. I was agog and wanted to ask how, but Michael
pushed me down on the table. My elbow went into the garlic
dip and I felt Oreos against my scalp. I started to say
something, and Michael stuck a finger into my open mouth.
I closed my mouth around his finger as he ran his other
hand over my breasts. Who could give a shit about a little
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thing like Oreos embedded into your head when a Demon
pinches your nipple between his thumb and finger?
"You're such a sweet thing." Michael withdrew his hands
and shucked off his t-shirt. His chest was just so amazing to
me, and I wanted to reach up and run my hands all over it
again. Damn, if GI Joe had come from the store looking like
that, my Barbie dolls would have been multi-orgasmic.
"I am not," I protested.
"You're sweet, you're tasty, you're all the flavors of the
world and I can't stop wanting to taste you."
"You're pretty yummy yourself."
"I think you made that happen. I'm a big, bad War Demon,
except when I'm with you." His hands went to his waist, and
he slowly pulled his zipper open. "Look at how you make me
feel, Kate."
His cock sprung out, hard and heavy, as his pants lowered.
I'd never been one to think how beautiful it was but his cock
was beautiful to me. His desire was the richest thing I'd ever
tasted.
"You're still big." I clamped my mouth shut but too late,
Michael laughed.
"Listen to you. You know how to make me happy to be
your man." His hands circled my vulva and pushed the lips
together. Then his thumbs parted them again. He ran his
thumbs up, both stroking against my clit and making me
shiver in delight and anticipation. "You're so perfect, Kate. I
love everything about you, the colors that make you, the
warm parts, the soft parts, the nubby parts."
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His thumbs traveled downward and one ran along my lips
and then pushed inside me. I arched slightly; it was good, but
not as good as what I really wanted from him.
"Stop teasing me you big, bad Demon."
He leaned forward and my heart hammered. I wanted to
feel his mouth on me. Michael reached above my head and
his hand came back with a couple of Oreos. "It's a naughty
girl who doesn't share," Michael said and popped one fully in
his mouth.
"You bastard," I squealed and tried to move away, but he
laughed and pushed his body down toward mine.
"I do like to share," he said and held the other cookie to
my mouth. As I took a bite of Oreo his cock was suddenly at
my vagina, the head pushing where his thumb had been.
There was Michael and chocolate flooding my senses at the
same time. My body dancing to the rhythm he created: the
thrust and the slide and the shock of sensation and
movement. We were fluid in desire, my body one with his as
he brought our joining to sensate pleasure.
He took me hard, and with every thrust I felt pinpoints of
delight, small escapes of lightening delights bursting inside
me. The sound of our bodies, his breath coming harder and
my own uncontrolled gasps, this was our lovemaking.
I touched myself and stroked between our bodies. He
brought me excitement with his cock, with the thrust and the
push. I stroked greater build with the rub and touch and
when I came, I came hard, my body going stiff and then
falling into spasms as the feeling exploded then waned.
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My vagina pulsed against Michael and he thrust harder into
it, until he also stiffened. I felt his cock swell with release
before he spilled into me. His orgasm on the heels of mine
prolonged my pleasure and I rippled more against him, until I
was spent from it.
Michael eased my legs down and then put his hands on the
table, his body resting forward, his cock still inside me. I saw
the sheen of sweat on his brow and wondered if I could crow
that I made a Demon sweat. The bright haze at the edge of
my vision sharpened the senses that had just been dulled.
It wasn't possible... "Oh, fuck Michael," I cried, "they were
filming us!"
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Chapter 8
We woke to a beautiful day. I spent the first few minutes
trying to pry myself from underneath a sleeping War Demon.
I had a fear one day it would take the Jaws of Life to move
him off me. Boy would I like to see that on Strangest 911
Calls! Bet we could win the ten thousand dollar prize.
I loved mornings in Allentown, Colorado. The stifling
humidity I was used to wasn't there, and I could shower and
feel refreshed without feeling I had already run a marathon
before I stepped out the door. Although struggling to free
myself from under the weight of a sleeping War Demon could
be considered a workout.
I stepped over to the window to look at the day and saw
down below a new addition to the backyard, a bar had been
set up. Behind the bar was a stranger, similar to Jack in many
ways but a longer, thinner version.
"Come back to bed," Michael muttered from his half
sleeping state.
"You know what today is?" I didn't turn around until the
bartender looked up, directly up to where I was and gave a
wink. Damn, who knew he could see a naked me standing
right there? I turned quickly and stepped away.
"It's the day we spend all day in bed playing fuck the
Demon?"
"Close." I walked over and grabbed the blanket. "It's the
day we all get fucked. It's party day." I yanked the blanket off
the bed and Michael.
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"Hey!" he protested.
"There is no way I'm facing any of this alone," I told him.
"So haul some Demon ass."
The atmosphere in the house seemed like the festivities
had already started. In the case of Sherry and myself there
were more angry looks than fun, and if left to ourselves we
might have come to blows.
Tosh had actually put on a pair of white shorts and a white
tank top; he looked like a gay cabana boy.
Z joined us for some breakfast in the kitchen, but then
apologized and retired to his room. "This isn't for an alter
kocker like me."
"This isn't for anyone with any sense," I muttered, loud
enough for Sherry to hear.
"Life is wasted on the dull," Sherry replied.
"Another girl fight!" Jack bounded in and I groaned.
"Did you see the bartender?" I asked him. "Relative?"
"Sky? He's an old friend." Jack looked me up and down.
"Why don't you come outside and meet him?"
"Excellent idea." My head popped up at Sherry's quick
agreement. No way was I jumping into that stew.
"Maybe a little later. So anybody know what the plans
are?"
"Funny you should ask." Tino walked in, technical glow
following behind. "The party is being set up around the pool.
Jack's friend Sky will be the working bartender."
"How does Jack have friends?" I asked Michael.
He shrugged. "Some people like the smell of their own
shit."
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"Funny bitches," Jack pouted, "both of you."
"To continue," Tino said pointedly, "we've invited the
Allentown Fire Department, the staff of the Smart Mart and a
few others for an afternoon pool barbecue. We're looking at
elimination of a house member tonight so be on your best
festive behavior."
"I've never been to a party," Michael said quietly.
"At this house it's sure to be a disaster."
It was nice to see Tracie R. again. She came with a gaggle
of cashiers and all the hullabaloo of the previous day had
been forgotten, at least by Tracie and her gang.
"Don't think we'll see Bill here," Tracie said, taking a deep
drag of her cigarette. "He's feeling like he was made a fool
of."
"It isn't hard to make a fool of a foolish man."
"Amen, sister!" We both laughed. Tracie and the ladies had
come first, and I happily joined them. Sherry took one look as
they arrived and made a face. "Who needs more ugly
Humans?" she asked, looking specifically at me.
"Look at that pot calling out the kettle," I answered.
Sherry and I had become enemies as quickly as we had
first played at being friends. It became a high school moment
in an adult life, but my feelings were raw and I wasn't able to
act more adult.
Now that Sherry no longer was wearing her game face, her
disdain for Humanity was clear. Her disdain for me even more
so. It might not have mattered, except it was galvanizing the
household: Tino was avoiding Sherry, Tosh was avoiding me,
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and everybody else was weighing in with sullen silences and
whispered conversations.
I didn't understand why Tosh was acting toward me as he
did.
"We never lose our ability to love, Shayna," Z told me,
"and sometimes we hurt when those we would love choose
another."
I couldn't help how Tosh felt, but I knew Z and Michael had
my back and Jack seemed to enjoy jumping between us. He
was on my side or Sherry's, depending on how he felt at the
second. Sherry's willingness to hang over the bar and make
conversation with Sky was certainly a happy making moment
for Jack. Of course, Sherry had her bikini top off before you
could say "Who's your Demon daddy?" which made Jack
positively gleeful.
Not that it mattered too much, because I wouldn't trust
Jack farther than Michael could throw him.
I was glad to have a group of Human women to bond with.
Sherry had just crossed every friendship line I could draw in
my mind. My adult side, the one that wasn't allowed out to
play often, knew I was making a mountain out of a molehill.
Sherry had spent more time in Hell than on Earth, and
certainly a woman like her knew which side her burned toast
was buttered on.
The pool area had become revelry central; somehow a
buffet had appeared and music was playing over a hidden
loudspeaker system.
"Where is that hunk of yours?" Tracie seemed to keep a lit
cigarette permanently in her grasp; she took only a few drags
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from one and then when it burned out, a new one took its
place.
Michael escaped quickly when the first guests arrived. "Call
me if there's a battle," he said and ducked out. I suppose one
shouldn't expect a War Demon boyfriend to be the life of the
party. I doubt I'd want to be at the bash he was the life of. So
I connected myself to Tracie's hip and pretended Michael was
going to be joining us. I doubt we'd see either him or Z for
the duration.
I was surprised to see Tosh at the bar laughing with
Sherry and Sky. He had a drink in his hand, it seemed
decidedly incongruous behavior for an Angel.
"Are there going to be any men here that don't have
horns?" one of Tracie's friends asked. She was probably in her
mid-sixties and was showing enough cleavage to make one
think of natural wonders, like the Grand Canyon or Grand
Cooley Dam. When she took off her bra, I'm sure it was
Niagara Falls.
"Ladies, ladies, ladies!" I blinked my eyes in surprise; Jack
was dressed as a waiter, including a white jacket and white
bowtie. He had a tray of drinks in his hand. "This is a party,
not a quilting bee. Alcohol for everyone!"
"Why are you being friendly?" I asked suspiciously as the
women around me took the proffered glasses.
"Katie-did, you need to learn to trust me." Jack's
expression was guileless, which scared me more than
anything he had done yet.
"Are the drinks poison?"
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"Silly." Jack made a face at me that made me giggle.
"Have a drinkie poo, Katie-poo."
"What are these?" I took one from his tray. They were
raspberry colored with a frothy top.
"We call them a Naked Lady. They have lots of fruit. Ask
Tosh!"
I knew better, but I grinned and took a sip. It was like
tasting liquid happiness. I looked around and saw the same
expressions on the faces of all around me. "This is delish."
"I'll tell Sky to make more." Jack was positively gleeful.
"Lots more," Tracie called out, "these are fan-fucking-
tastic!"
In the past, before my stay at Hell House, I believed fate
had a very active hand in things. But I was learning
troublemakers in Heavenly and not so heavenly places liked
to masquerade as fate. This would explain why the
firefighters showed up just as a second tray of Naked Ladies
was brought to us.
"Firemen!" Tracie's man-hungry, deep-cleavaged friend
whooped. "Did you all bring your poles?"
"I have a fire you can put out," someone else yelled.
Normally, I'd be put off by women shouting innuendoes at
strange men, but these men were all so handsome. They
were also dressed for admiration, as was obvious with the
lack of shirts and loose shorts and all that lovely, tanned skin.
I was feeling distinctly mellow. I was so happy to see
handsome men. There's something very party-atmospheric
about a group of men who seemed happy to see us. I saw
Tosh sitting at the side of the pool, and he was wearing
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nothing but a very tight white Speedo. What a lovely thing he
was to behold. Blue eyes, white Speedo and his welcoming
smile to the firefighters.
Then I saw Sherry, and she was enveloped in a glow. I
knew she was beautiful, but this was breathtaking. She
looked like Venus without any shells; lush and gorgeous and
rising naked from the pool, water dripping down her curves.
It brought a tear to my eye in its innocent beauty.
I struggled to my feet. The symbolism of the moment
surrounded me. Denizens of Heaven, denizens of Hell, it all
didn't matter because it was a group of buff, chiseled, hunky
men who sprayed things with hoses and posed almost nude
for calendars that made this world a world worth living in. I
loved those men with all my heart, and it was important to let
them know how much.
I took off my top.
"Go, Katie-nips!" Jack shouted.
I was delighted at how happy I made Jack, and I felt a
rush of affection for the little guy. He was just a
misunderstood imp. Probably didn't even have sex organs,
just those silly horns on top of his head.
"I love you, Jack." Tears of emotion were gathering in my
eyes.
"I love you too, Jack!" Tracie stuck her cigarette in her
mouth and removed her top.
"More drinks," someone yelled. It might have been me.
"More Naked Ladies," Jack howled. Really, he was just too
cute. And the funny thing was when he yelled, more women
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removed their tops. We were all feeling the glow of happiness
and brotherhood.
"I want another one too." My feet didn't work as well as
they usually did but still I was able to walk unsteadily to the
bar. I felt wonderful and wanted to celebrate all the joy inside
me.
"Aren't you a pretty thing," Sky said. His skin looked like
he had been out in the sun too long, he was red and
blistered. His eyes were narrower than Jack's and had a
yellow center. He was adorable.
"You're beautiful." I sighed.
"You're Human." He shoved a glass at me, and I gratefully
took it. "I like Humans. I really like Human women." Sky
turned and addressed a man sitting next to me. He was one
of the hunky firefighters who was also drinking the pink
concoction and looking so handsome and friendly. "Do you
like women?" Sky asked him.
He turned and looked directly at my breasts. "Sure do.
Who wouldn't?"
"That guy." Sky nodded in the direction of the pool, and
we turned. Tosh was in the shallow end of the pool, standing
between the legs of one of the firefighters. There were visible
sparks flying between the two men.
"Faggots," the firefighter next to me said without care.
"Oh, it's love." I was so excited. Maybe Tosh and the
firefighter could move to the suburbs. In fact, they could be
neighbors to Michael and me, and we could have Sunday
barbecues and invite God and Satan...
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"You're so sweet." Sky broke through my happy fantasies.
"Why don't you take the rest of your clothes off? I think
you're overdressed."
His words stabbed me in their harshness. I was
overdressed? I blinked hard to keep the tears from falling,
even though a couple escaped. I looked quickly around and
saw a lot of skin winking back at me. I really was
overdressed. I choked back a sob as I struggled to open the
button of my shorts.
"Help her, you worm," Sky said.
"Let me help you," the firefighter said and reached out to
me.
"Kate!" I swung around to the sound of Sherry's voice, and
the lovely gentleman who had intended to help me fell
forward. I heard the thud but was agog at the sudden vision
of Sherry coming out of the cabana, completely naked and so
beautiful, followed by two very naked, happy men.
"When did we get another cabana?" I asked.
"Oh, Kate." Sherry threw herself into my arms, her breasts
smacked against mine and her chin hit my shoulder.
"That hurts," I said and was delighted to feel such pain.
"Thank you for sharing pain, Sherry."
"Kate, I love you so much." Sherry began to cry and her
tears dripped onto my skin. "I shouldn't have been so mean
to you."
"No, it was my fault." I started to cry too. "I'm sure I'm
just jealous because you're so beautiful."
"No, no. I'm jealous about something. Not you. You're
perfect, Kate."
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"You're perfect, Sherry. You're cotton candy."
"You're a damned gum drop."
I snorted snot back into my nose. "I'm a wicked pig. Even
Satan wouldn't like me."
A tear dripped off the edge of Sherry's nose and fell onto
my nipple. It was like dewdrop on a flower. I had to watch as
it slowly ran down and dropped off, landing then on my belly.
"I never should have told you what Satan said." Sherry
looked so sad, it broke my heart.
"Let's never fight again." I pulled Sherry back into my
body, her breasts hit mine and there was a moment of
supreme ouch, which was so delightful. "You are my second
best friend, forever." My heart was swelling with love for
Sherry, for Jack, for Michael and Tracie and firefighters and
gay, singing Angels and I just loved them all so much.
"Prove it with a smooch," Sky said.
"Kiss me, Kate," Sherry agreed, and I felt joy and
happiness and all the pink sparkly emotions like rainbows and
horses with multi-colored manes and I pressed my lips
against Sherry's, knowing this feeling was just the beginning
of our new relationship.
I'd never kissed a woman before, not the same way I had
men, but Sherry's mouth parted under mine and a whisper of
tongue darted across my lower lip. It felt nice. Michael's
kisses felt nice too, I thought, and with Michael there was
something even better in being held by a man who loves and
wants to care for you. Michael might be hard in all the ways
Sherry was soft, but he was soft in ways no man before him
ever showed me.
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"I love Michael," I murmured against Sherry's lips.
"Well, that's stupid." Sherry needed a little practice in the
BFF area.
"How about some make-up sex?" someone hooted.
"Excellent idea." Sherry drew back from me and her hands
reached to my waistband. My head was hurting slightly, and I
heard laughter behind me.
"I don't think I want to," I said. I moved a step away.
"You have to stop thinking you have so many rights." The
lovely Sherry disappeared and the cold eyed Sherry
reemerged. "Sometimes things have to be done for the
greater good."
"What's the greater good?" I felt a bolt of pain sear behind
my eye.
Sherry stepped forward and again she reached for my
shorts. "Everybody wants to see you and I make it, Katie.
Let's give them a show."
"Ladies," Sky said, "let's see some action."
Sherry's hands again came to my waistband, and I was lit
with the thought of how much I loved her, and then I felt it
again,a knife slicing behind my eye. I almost dropped to my
knees.
"The greater good of whom?" I croaked.
"Come on, ladies," a decidedly male voice yelled. "We want
more kissing."
"We want licking," another male voice called, and there
was laughter.
"Is it for Satan?" My vision blurred red. "Or for God? Who
decides the greater good?"
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"Stop thinking, Kate." Sherry's breath was warm on my
throat. "We're going to have fun now."
I wanted to have a good time. As my pants were pulled
down my legs, as I felt Sherry's hand over my mound, I
couldn't fight the feeling this was bad, so very, very bad.
"I don't want to do this with you." I stepped away just as
Sherry's fingers were parting my vulva.
"Damn it, Kate, stop making things harder."
Sherry stepped toward me again, and I stepped away. The
pain behind my eyes was playing hide and seek. It stabbed
and blurred my vision, then cleared away and let me see. I
didn't know what was happening, but I felt a sudden need to
run.
"Come on, Katie-coo."
"Good times." It sounded like Tracie, but when I looked
over toward the pool my sight blurred. Jesus, was I going to
have a sudden brain aneurysm? The thought of how much
Piper would love that, "Ratings through the roof! Everybody is
googling brain aneurysms!" made it even less attractive.
"I really need some help here." My eyesight was gone, my
brain felt like it was suddenly bleeding and all I heard was
jeering from all around me. Maybe I was living in a Fellini
film. Whatever it was I wanted out. And I wanted out now.
Panic made time dizzying, minutes and hours became the
same until he showed up.
"I'm here, Kate." His hands were warm on my skin, his
lovely big hands that were callused and gentle clasped my
arms and his voice whispered comfort to my soul. "I'm here."
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"Michael." I grabbed at his hands. "Oh, Michael, they made
me blind. I can't see anything."
He roared. Those lovely hands pushed away from me, and
I stumbled backward.
I didn't see anything. I really had been blinded, and the
sudden appearance of Michael didn't make it better. In fact,
from my less than vantage point, all I heard was the world
ending, at least the world that existed around me. There were
screams, and I heard Jack yelling. Maybe it was better that I
couldn't see anything.
Michael was bellowing and I stood statue still, I was afraid
to move. My eyesight was gone, I was afraid I'd step into the
pool or anywhere near Sherry. This wasn't like any reality TV
show I had ever seen before. It seemed this was the time to
let go of my calm, my mind was as panicked as the sounds of
the party around me. Michael had left me in this state, and I
was ready to start screaming myself. I didn't know what was
happening and the high pitched woman's keening that started
and then just as suddenly stopped made me want to curl up
in a fetal position. What was happening? What was Michael
doing?
"Kate! Shayna!"
I reached out to Z's voice and almost sobbed in relief as
his hands grasped mine. "Z, I'm blind."
"That's what Michael was afraid of, Bubbeleh."
"What do you mean?" I heard it in my voice,I was
moments away from losing it completely. I could be taken
from the show wrapped in a white jacket without sleeves,
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screaming inanities and paranoid fantasies as Piper watched
the ratings rise.
"It's that friend of Jack's." Z guided me slowly away from
the sounds of breaking furniture. "Michael was worrying it,
like a dog with a bone. That boy might be the ultimate goyim,
but he's got the smarts when he needs them." I heard
another scream and the sound of the sky falling. I assumed
that's what it was. It sounded too big, and much too awful to
be anything else.
"Sky? Sky did this?"
"That's the name he used? Michael thought he was a Sytry
and didn't know if he should warn you."
"He's said that name before Z, but I don't remember." I
heard what I knew was Michael, a roar of rage that made me
lose my breath. The bellow of a Human voice followed it and
then the sound of something snapping. Please, let it be a
piece of furniture and not a spine.
"He's a Demon that gets the women naked. First we
thought a little naked wouldn't hurt anyone. But Michael,
bright goyim that he is, he said there was something else
about that Demon. Then he figured it out, he's a Shax."
"He's a shit," I muttered.
"A Shax is a Demon that blinds his victims. Sometimes
makes them deaf too. That's what Jack's friend is."
"So, of course they invited him to play bartender? Why
didn't they just offer our bone marrow as an appetizer?"
"Kate, we don't think anybody really knew. Someone
would have stopped it."
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"Nobody stops good television." I reached forward and my
fingertips grazed Z's cheek. "Will I see again, Z?"
He didn't answer and that seemed to be all the answer I
was going to get. A scream rang out followed by another roar
from Michael, and I clutched Z. "What the Hell is he doing?"
"He's allowing his nature," Z answered calmly.
"He's a War Demon." My fear was ratcheting up, it
sounded like we were in the jungles of some hard to
pronounce country and a beast was ravaging the people and
the land. "Z, make him stop."
"I don't think I could. It takes a lot more chutzpah than I
got to stop a rampaging Demon."
"Dear God," I muttered, "this needs to end now." I didn't
really believe anyone was listening. Not anymore.
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Chapter 9
When the world ends there will be the sound of choked
tears. I sat blindly and blinded, the world around me
sounding as if it had been destroyed. In my head, I heard the
frantic voices of Piper and whoever else was on the big boss
network; their horror seemed to be whether every available
shot had been gotten.
"Send Tino in," I heard someone say and like a bee
buzzing in my ear, I heard, "No, he refuses unless he's
guaranteed it's safe."
"Is Tracie okay?" I asked and nobody answered. "Damn it,
I need to know what's happening!" My voice had gone shrill,
my veneer finally cracking. Z had moved away, I heard his
voice far away. Michael was no longer roaring, whatever he
had done was finished. He hadn't returned to my side. I was
alone, my body trembling, while my mind was casting for
safety. I wanted to burrow into Michael and feel safe, yet the
idea of him caused a greater tremor. I didn't know what
Michael existed anymore: mine or Satan's.
"Someone needs to call a doctor." Stupid little voices. Wish
Michael had killed them along with everyone else. I was
probably dead and already in Hell but didn't know it. Blinded,
I could be about to jump into a blazing barbeque and have no
idea.
The man I loved was obviously a monster. How could I
have prettied him up and thought he could be a tame little
pet? Had he killed them all? I heard others, but couldn't see
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the destruction. Who else had Sky the Shax blinded? Jack had
to have known, did Sherry?
I wailed. Tears dripped from my unseeing eyes and sobs
tore from me,sobs nobody heard or cared about. One little
twist of fate or stamp of a cloven hoof and a life is destroyed.
I had never felt so alone, so insignificant.
A sudden roll of heat felt as if Hell decided to come for a
visit. The sobs died in my throat, the need to see what new
horror was coming drove me to stand. If the Devil was
coming to visit, I was meeting him head-on, even if I couldn't
see him.
"You pig fucker!" I wasn't thinking anymore, I was blind,
destroyed, my life in ruins. I felt friendless, betrayed. "You
motherfucking bottom dweller. Is this what you do? Is it?" I
was screaming, lost in anger.
"Redeem thyself in the Lord!" The voice washed over me,
and I was rooted where I stood. The power of him suffused
the words; what I couldn't see, I felt. The glory of him, I had
seen a glimpse in the kitchen once but, even without vision, I
could feel his radiance, know that he stood true as himself,
the Archangel Uriel.
"Ye Demons are cast from Heaven on the stain of thy
sins." He sounded like a revivalist preacher and suddenly, it
was all too much. I know it was hysteria, but I began to
laugh. And once I started, I couldn't stop.
Just like the tears it flooded from me. Gales of hysterical
hoo-ha's. Living with mortals was obviously a lot easier than
immortals. Only with immortals does reality television end in
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blindness, death and a little case of hysteria. So much for my
fifteen minutes of fame.
"It's okay, sweetheart," a strange female voice said to me.
I hadn't been aware of her approach, and I jumped when she
touched me.
"Who the fuck are you? And get your damned hands off
me."
"I'm not damned, Kate." Whoever she was she had a
sweet voice and soft hands. Her hands were on my arms and
they caressed me. "Come with me."
"To what? Why?"
"Come, Kate. The time for Demons ends. It's time to
embrace the light."
"Well, I can't fucking see the light," I said.
I heard the smile in her voice and I hated her. There was
nothing to smile about. There was no joy left in this world.
There was nothing left but perpetual darkness. That morning
I woke to sunshine and the feeling the future was mine. Now
I was glad for the darkness and not having to see what the
world had been turned into.
"Come, Kate." Her hands were warm on me and I had the
impulse to pull away, but where would I go anyway? What
was there for me now?
"Thy sin is a stain on thy soul!"
"Oh, stuff it, Uriel." I was done with it all.
"Kate, thy soul has become silken from the strands of
Satan's web."
"So where the hell were you? I've been worried sick."
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There was a buzzing in my ears. "Kate, doth thou still fight
the word? Thou hast—"
"Damn it, Uriel, shut the fuck up!" The slight sound in my
ears was becoming a serenading siren in my head. "I worried
about you. Everyone told me not to but I did. And now you
come and give me shit? My eyesight is gone. I'm blind, Uriel!
And my love, my lover..." I couldn't say anymore. My voice
was breaking. The buzzing was annoying, but who cared at
that point? I was ready to get a gun, find a watchtower and
probably blast a few of my toes off since my sight was gone.
"Open thy heart, Kate."
"Fuck you, Uriel."
"Thou art stubborn." I was flabbergasted. I was blind, the
house devastated and I assumed people were strewn about
dead, and Uriel was pissed because I wasn't genuflecting? I
had so much to say to him or scream at him, but before I
could start chaos decided to pay another visit.
I'll never have the proper words to recount what happened
next. I was cursing Uriel, my world in blackness, my soul lost
to bleakness when God decided to visit.
"You are loved." Light exploded, I was surrounded by heat
and millions upon millions of pinpricks from an exploded sun.
It should have been frightening but it wasn't. "You are loved."
It was an embrace in the bleakest night. A hug for every
childhood hurt that festered. It was a hand in the rain, a kind
word in the midst of jeering faces. "You are loved."
I came alive; right there in that moment, I was born. I
remembered my mother and, instead of living in the moment
she was lost forever to me, I remembered all the small things
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I had forgotten. The smell of cinnamon in the kitchen when
she taught me to make snickerdoodles, the feel of her body
against mine when we hugged. I remembered the theaters
we sat in to watch dance performances and the small cafes
we sat in afterward, she always had pie and coffee while I
had something chocolaty and we marveled at the dancers.
In seventh grade, our class went on a three day camping
trip. I sat under the stars with Sharon and we were best
friends for one brief moment. It was the most accepted I had
felt in my life up until that moment.
"You are loved." Losing my virginity to Jamie. We thought
we were in love, and I hated the hurt from sex, the shocking
sharpness of the hymen breaking. I hated the rut and the
stickiness of sweat and semen after. But then how Jamie
looked at me after, his delight and awe, and the change in
how I saw myself. It took awhile to enjoy the physical act, but
the pleasure of feeling like a woman and seeing the feminine
mystery I carried, I was happy.
Getting hired by the cardiologist and meeting Pam.
Margaritas and nachos and talking about all the things women
talk about. "You are loved." Oh yes, I have been loved.
Sunflowers daring the sun. The blue jay that visits
annually. The feel of Michael's hands holding me. The melt of
chocolate on the tongue, the sweet tang of Carmel's spicy
chicken. The scent of citrus body lotion, a table full of
laughing women at Judy's bridal shower, the growl of desire
when Michael buried himself inside me. "You are loved."
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I saw the sting of color in a drop of blood, the stain of
sorrow in a teardrop. Light bled into everything my gaze lit
upon and the joy of creation was mine to share.
"You are loved."
"I love you too." I was standing poolside, looking up into
the frank blue eyes of a seven foot Uriel, his gaze steady as it
watched my soul.
"Oh my God." I heard Tracie's voice, and I turned to see
her standing on the other side of the pool, perfectly fine as
were all the other party guests. They were staring at Uriel,
and I turned back to him.
"Uriel." My mind was numb, my voice a bare throb.
"Welcome back, Kate." Did anyone else hear his words?
"Hello, Kate. I'm Sarah." Now I saw the woman who had
brought me to Uriel earlier. Her hair was curled tightly against
her head, a rich brown with tendrils of gray. Her eyes were
blue, not like Uriel's but a pure, Human blue. Her skin stained
by blemishes.
"Who are you?" Her hands were on my arm, and she
smiled at my question as she moved me slightly, away from
an Archangel who seemed to grow even taller as we watched.
"Are you Uriel's kidnapper?"
"Kidnapper?" Sarah was incredulous and amused. "I'm just
Sarah. I invited Uriel to my church. He needed to remember
who he is."
"Shit." I was probably looking like an idiot, but Uriel was
doing the enflamed thing again. Seven feet tall, covered by
flame and carrying the kind of sword I expect to only see in
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cheesy Hollywood barbarian films. "What the fuck is he
doing?"
"He's an Archangel. Praise the Lord." Sarah dropped to her
knees and tugged on my arm so I would do the same. I
remained standing. I was in a state of profound confusion.
Everybody I had thought dead was alive and standing,
watching the giant Archangel with the burning sword.
"I thought they were dead." I was looking at the
firefighters, the cashiers, the normal Humans, people just like
me. All of us clothed, breathing. Had I dreamed it? Had
Michael not done what I believed he had done?
"They were." Sarah might have been on her knees, her
face masked in uncontained joy, but her mind was still
present. She was doing much better than I was. "God works
miracles, surely you see that yourself?"
A scream brought our attention back to Uriel. He was
standing in front of Jack and Sky, his sword raised high. It
was almost too much to take in. The sword gleamed with
light, a jewel wielded by a God. Breath rushed from me.
Jack and Sky seemed frozen. I would never have believed
I could see Jack look truly terrified. I could smell his fear
where I stood.
"Scum of Satan!" Uriel was glorious; the light of Heaven
shone within him and the goodness, the righteousness homed
on him as the sun on a flower. It was breathtaking and all
eyes were riveted. Collectively, we stopped speaking, we
stopped breathing. We were one moment and one moment
alone.
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There was no question what was going to happen, and for
this all eyes were open and aware. Sky was cowering before
Uriel, small bleats coming from him. "He's going to kill him." I
said it aloud, and felt the horrors of the act once the words
were said.
"Uriel is the Almighty's sword." I looked down and saw the
glassy eyed devotion in Sarah's countenance.
"But if they die..." If they died, then what? The Gods didn't
have to follow the rules and could kill them as easily as make
them. A dead Demon wouldn't return to Hell. There was no
everlasting life for the unliving. There wouldn't be anything
but divine nothing. Dead Demons be the deadest.
"Praise the Lord," Sarah whispered in orgasmic release as
the blade sliced the air and through Sky. In less time than a
blink he was no longer. In truth I was glad to see the Shax
die. The bastard had humiliated all of us, destroyed
something fragile inside of us, and for what? For no reason
except he was a Demon. Let the bastard die.
Jack's terrified squeal stirred something in me. He should
die too. There was nothing Jack brought to the world except
annoyance or danger. He aided the bastard Shax who blinded
me. Jack didn't deserve anything. I should enjoy the sight of
Uriel's sword slicing through him. I would enjoy it.
"Thou art a blight in the sight of thy Lord!"
The sun glinted off the steel and it was truly awesome to
behold.
"Stop it. No!"
Uriel seemed stunned and Jack turned grateful eyes to me.
My legs were weak, and I didn't know what I was doing or
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why. I just knew Jack healed me with a slap and not a caress.
He aided the Shax, but he was Jack.
"Kate, mine work is the work of the Lord."
"I know. Damn it all, I know." I stumbled forward toward
them. My body had turned into jelly with all that happened. I
needed a bubble bath, a nap and a quart of Jack Daniels. I
didn't need to play sheriff to the most obnoxious creature I'd
ever met. "Don't kill him, Uriel. You can't."
"Tell him, Katie-moo," Jack whined.
"Why wouldst thou spare the imp's life?"
"Oh hell, Uriel, he isn't even worth the effort of raising
your arm."
Jack whimpered, and I felt my fragile hold on my self-
control slip. "Get your ass in the house, Jack." He looked at
me but didn't move. I could see Uriel lift the sword again, the
light moving over the blade was mesmerizing, and for a
moment I wanted to watch it as it fell from the sky and split
into the imp, sending him to a great nothing. But watching it
would mean the end of Jack. "I said, move your ass, Jack!
Before Uriel slices your butt crack all the way through you."
Jack scampered, his giggle following in his wake. I turned
toward Uriel and saw the blade slicing through the air. I fell
backward and felt the earth solid below me as I hit the
ground. The weapon sliced the air where I'd been standing.
The world went black again as I finally passed out.
That morning I had wakened with a War Demon in my bed
and a sated body and heart. In the early evening I woke
again in my bed with a War Demon standing by the door and
an aching body and heart.
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Michael didn't move, his eyes were riveted to me. He didn't
speak. It was like having a scary guard dog in the room.
I sat up gingerly. My back was sore, my legs stiff. I felt
like Z looked, aged and slow. I couldn't watch Michael watch
me, so I concentrated on just getting into a sitting position.
My muscles complained and I wished I could also. I needed a
hot bath, something to scald the ease back to my body, and
perhaps to my mind.
The silence was oppressive. "Say something," I demanded.
"Piper wants us downstairs whenever you're ready. Clouds,
Kate, are you okay?" He gave a small groan and launched
himself at me. I braced myself, but thankfully he fell onto his
knees in front of me, his arms circling my legs, his face puppy
dog earnest looking into mine.
"I'm not." Gods, what an understatement. "I'm not okay.
How the hell am I supposed to be okay after all this?"
Michael kissed each of my knees and I watched him with
complete disinterest. "Tell me what you need me to do, Kate."
I wanted to tell him to go away. "Go downstairs and tell
Piper I'll be down whenever I feel ready."
Michael looked up at me, and I avoided his eyes. Did he
understand how much had changed? "Do you want me to
come back up?" He rocked back on his heels, his arms no
longer clenching my legs. He looked wary. I felt nothing but
tired.
"I'm going to take a bath." I answered by not answering.
"I'll come down when I can."
"I love you, Kate."
"Thank you."
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What I did next was take a hot bath. The kind of hot bath
that hurts to step into, the water scalds and your body
screams as it's submerged in liquid pain. The kind of bath
where you acclimate to the temperature and before you know
it, your muscles stop groaning and start remembering how to
move again, and you can stretch or reach, and you don't feel
like you're doing anything unusual.
I ate chocolate. I had stolen a stash a day earlier, and I
ate mindlessly, letting the sweet richness melt into my mouth
and imbue my senses.
And I worried. Because it seemed I was going to have to
end my relationship with a War Demon, which might prove
very hazardous to my health. I knew my heart would be
broken, I just didn't want any bones or valuable body parts
destroyed also.
I needed a lot more chocolate. Although, even Willy
Wonka's chocolate factory might not be enough chocolate for
this situation. Things had really turned to shit.
I didn't want to go downstairs, but I dressed and slowly
made my way to the living room. I heard the unearthly
whispers in my ear, saw the haze at the edges of my vision.
Great television in the making. I might win an Emmy for Best
Fucked Up Human With Inhuman Housemates.
"I'd like to thank the academy, my agent, my manager,
Jesus, who was too busy to come to any of our house parties,
and a producer, who destroyed my life daily but made great
TV so I could win this prestigious piece of tin."
The group was gathered, and momentarily I felt more
displaced than usual. It was almost back to the first time I
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had seen everybody with God's team in white and Satan's
team in red. Michael was sitting next to Jack, and when I
entered, Michael started to rise then changed his mind. He
lingered momentarily in mid-stand. Sherry didn't hesitate.
She was on her feet and at my side in seconds. "Kate, are
you all right? I can't believe Jack brought a Shax into the
house. I know they're going to eliminate him tonight, and he
deserves to go, don't you think?"
Z was sitting on the other couch next to Tosh. I was
surprised to see hostility on the face of the gay Angel. We'd
had so little to do with one another. Well, fuck him if he had
issues. I was sick to death of all of it.
Towering over the proceedings was Uriel. He was still in
alpha-Angel guise, about eight feet tall with a mild-blaze
burning merrily. He nodded at my entrance, and I nodded
back. Just another day in the life of Kate Thomas. Tomorrow
will be tea with the Devil and mani-pedis with Mother
Theresa.
Tino stood a few feet apart from everybody, I assumed
from the look on his face he was receiving instruction. When
he saw me, he took a few steps forward. "What are we here
for?" I asked him.
I was betting he was told not to answer, but there was a
trace of belligerence in his voice when he did. "It's
elimination. Today's party knocked the shit out of everyone."
"Especially you." Sherry gave my arm a squeeze, and I
ignored her.
"Where do I sit?"
"Wherever you want to."
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I disengaged myself from Sherry and took a seat away
from everyone else. I refused to meet anybody's eyes; my
head was too full of anger and hurt to pretend otherwise.
"Welcome back to six-six-six Angel Lane." Tino went into
his professional routine. "Today's party was a nightmare
disguised as a bacchanal that went horrifically awry, before a
certain Archangel put things back to right. Uriel, would you
like to address anything that took place today?"
"Thy sins are stains in the eyes of Heaven and bless the
name of our Lord God, revenge shall be mine and retribution
found at the end of my sword."
"Oh-kay. So Tosh, you seemed to have found your inner
frat boy today. Want to tell us about it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Tosh folded his
arms, which wasn't quite as impressive as the Archangel
above him, who folded his wings in imitation.
"I believe his name was Brian. Thirty-four-year-old
firefighter, who tasted some unsanctioned Heavenly delights."
"That's a lie."
"Thou shalt not bring Heaven to thy levels of secular
shame." Uriel lifted his flaming sword; his eyes were shining
the brightest blue I had ever seen. It should have been
terrifying to see him raise his sword again to slice and dice,
but it was awesome in the sense of awe. I wanted to see him
do it, my entire body was buzzing in anticipation.
"No death to contestants," Tino said, and there was a
collective sigh of disappointment. Uriel's eyes dimmed in their
blueness.
"Can I ask a question?"
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Tino turned toward me. "You had the worst time of it
today, Kate. What do you want to know?"
"Jack's friend, that Shax Demon. He was the reason we
got so, um, loose. Is that right?"
"We were led to believe he was a Sytry. Nobody would
have allowed a Shax Demon to have appeared."
"Did the Demons know?" I saw Michael freeze; his eyes
were a blood red.
"I didn't know," Michael said. I looked at him directly.
"I know you didn't. But there were some Demons who
were in direct contact with him. Did they know?"
The room was silent. Even the voices that provided a
continuous backdrop of buzz and sigh was finally quiet.
"Jack knew," Tino said quietly. There was sadness etched
on his face, the professional host was facing the same
question I was, how much of her soul did Sherry have left?
Tino had felt something for her; I don't believe he would have
slept with her just because she was available.
"Of course Jack knew." I looked at him steadily and
watched as he got the answer to the question I was asking.
He didn't lose his professionalism, he didn't show anything
that a camera would see, but I saw it. I saw the flutter of his
eyelids as he closed his eyes to keep the sorrow hidden, I saw
the grim line of his mouth and the cold, white flush of
disappointment color his cheeks.
"Sherry also was given knowledge of Sky's true nature,"
Tino said.
"Thou art unworthy of breath!" Uriel lifted his sword again
and Sherry cowered. Everybody was starting to cower a little.
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Uriel had stopped being the life of the party and was looking
to turn into the Grim Reaper.
"No killing housemates," Tino reminded him.
"Why'd you do it?" I leaned in toward Jack. "Were you
hoping to see me dead?"
Jack giggled. "Just wanted to pull your cord, Katie-hoo."
"Kate." Michael reached a hand out to me, and I ignored it.
I folded back into my seat and watched. I couldn't remain
emotionally active anymore. I wanted to kill too many of my
housemates. Or let Uriel loose with his sword.
Kate was no longer in her happy place.
"There's going to be eliminations," Tino announced, "and a
twist or two. Let's begin with Tosh."
"I didn't do anything wrong."
"God would disagree." The Lord speaketh through
television hosts. That would make an interesting TV Guide
cover. "Your dalliance with firefighter Brian has denied you
access back to Heaven."
"Fallen Angel." Jack bounced in his seat with joy. I really
wished to see the little bug squashed. Why did I save him? I
must have been delusional.
"Your choices are to try again on Earth or to visit the fiery
pit."
"Fairy in the fire." Jack was on a roll.
"Go to Hell. All of you." Tosh stood and his eyes that had
been the same Heaven blue as the others changed subtly,
suddenly a pale blue just as a Human's. "God will welcome
me back, you'll see."
"Thy scourge of sin—"
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"Fuck you, Uriel." Tosh sent a look of hatred to the room at
large and then left us.
"I don't understand."
"What don't you understand, Kate?"
"God made a gay Angel, why is he punishing him?"
"Thou shalt not sin—"
"Shut the fuck up, Uriel!" All the housemates were growing
weary of the Archangel.
"He isn't being punished for being gay," Tino explained.
"However, he broke the rules of the contest as laid down by
the Lords. An Angel showed less than angelic behavior."
"So Tosh is thrown out for sex because he's an Angel," I
said, slowly comprehending, "but Jack will remain because he
brought a Shax to the party and that was a devilishly bad
thing to do."
"Exactly."
"This is fucked," I muttered. "So, murdering people is okay
for Team Hell but Uriel needs to be eliminated because he
sliced a Shax for Team Heaven."
"Thou art eliminating me?"
Tino looked around, suddenly out of his element. I could
imagine the whispering going on in his ear. It almost made
me feel better. Uriel, on the other hand, was suddenly not
burning quite so bright.
"Shayna, do you know what you're doing?" Z was truly
concerned, and I felt the first softening in my feelings since I
had come downstairs.
"No Z, I lost my way ages ago."
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"I believe Uriel is facing elimination also." Tino looked
slightly ill.
"Ya-hoo!" Jack cried. "One left on their team and three on
ours."
"You mean two." All eyes turned toward me and none were
friendly. "I mean, weren't there established rules for the
Leaders also?"
"Kate, thou art playing in the flames."
"Am I? Because Scheherazade has been making deals in
the Devil's name. Isn't that against the rules?"
"You bitch!" Sherry would have been out of her seat and
clawing my eyes out if Michael hadn't reached a hand out and
caught her. She was looking like a wet cat though, trying to
scratch her way out of her owner's grip.
"So would that eliminate Satan's team altogether?" I didn't
look at Michael. I didn't want him gone, and I did want him
gone. I wanted to be gone. I wanted nothing at all, and I
wanted everything.
Tino was in obvious misery. The voices in his head were
probably screaming at that point, and I was almost starting to
enjoy the problems I was causing. Seeing Michael made the
enjoyment disappear. He was looking at me with an
unreadable expression, his grasp of Sherry still strong but
there was something there. I wondered if he was wishing he
could let the bitch go and watch her slap the crap out of me.
"We're on delay." Tino turned to me, his expression frantic.
"Piper wants—"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Piper's voice
was screaming in my head.
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"Turn down the volume if you want to talk." Everyone was
staring at me and it was too strange to explain. I turned in
my seat, away from their eyes.
"Okay, Kate, what are you trying to pull here?"
"Satan cheated and that should be an elimination of his
team."
"I can't tell the Lord of Lies he's disqualified. What do you
want?" The producer was panicked and the contestant was
sitting pretty. I turned back to face the group, my eyes
settling on Sherry's angry countenance.
"Sherry's out," I said. "You can spin it however you want,
that she cheated without Satan's permission. Just get that
bitch out of the house now."
"I'll give you a bitch!" Sherry struggled, but Michael held
her down firm.
"Fine, Sherry's gone. But Jack stays."
I looked at the little pisser. "Deal. Promise to keep the
little shit away from me."
Jack started to stand but Michael's other hand whipped out
quickly and hit him across the throat. Jack went down in a
sputtering pile. "Do I have to stay away too?" he asked.
I wasn't quite ready to answer.
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Chapter 10
And then we were four.
"Kate, we need to talk." For once I wasn't found in the
kitchen. I had been swimming and was sitting on the pool
edge watching the water lap over my feet. I was enjoying the
feeling of the sun drying the water on my skin. Since I had
decided to become a nun once the game was done, I thought
I'd better enjoy whatever pleasures I could before I became
cloistered.
Michael slid smoothly down beside me. For such a large
man, he always showed amazing grace. He was wearing a
pair of khaki shorts and nothing else. My eyes wanted to
linger on him, he was still the sexiest man I'd ever seen. His
legs were strong, muscles moving under the bronzed skin, I
could lay my hand on his thigh and I knew the skin would be
soft while underneath would be raw power.
I wanted his arms around me. I wanted to lay my head
against his chest and feel his heat, enjoy his scent, revel in
his strength. I wanted to claim him again; this man I loved
and all deities help me, but I really did love him. I wanted
things to be the way they were before I understood his true
nature. I wanted to forget what would be burned forever on
my soul.
"You're avoiding me." It was a simple statement and
needed no confirmation. We both knew it was true. He looked
at me with complete concentration. "I miss you."
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"I miss you too." I wasn't looking into his eyes. This was
hard enough.
"I can't change what I am, Kate."
"And that's our problem, because I can't change what I am
either." I finally looked up into his eyes and wanted to weep
from frustration. "I can't not be appalled by you, Michael. I
want to not care, but I saw what you do. What you can do,
and it broke my heart."
"I'm a War Demon." He looked confused, his eyes
searched mine. "What did you think that meant?"
"I don't know." I had to look away. He would never
understand, we didn't just have the man-woman
communication issues, but we made it more interesting with
Human-Demon issues also.
"I don't blame you for what you are." Michael sounded
almost petulant and the comment was enough to garner my
full interest.
"What am I? Besides Human, that is?"
"Human's bad enough." Michael's expression was if he'd
tasted something long past its expiration date.
"Give it a break, Demon. I might be Human but at least I
don't leave a path of destruction in my wake."
"Well, that's nothing to brag about, little girl."
I gaped at him. I thought of a million retorts, but none of
them had enough emphasis. So I punched him instead. Made
a fist and hit his arm as hard as I could. This for Michael was
probably like having a butterfly flutter against him.
I probably could have handled almost any reaction but not
the one he gave me. He laughed. A completely joyous, oh-
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my-goodness-the-little-girl-hit-me kind of laugh. I was
already pissed off, but this took it so much farther. The best
thing I could do to respond was to throw him into the pool.
It was a great idea and might have worked for any man
except Michael.
I pushed, and he didn't budge. "Damn you for being so
solid." I said it and realized how absurd it sounded the
moment it left my mouth. Michael snickered, which pissed me
off even further. I rammed my entire body into his, hoping to
dislodge him. It didn't budge him, but momentarily it felt as
though it might have dislocated my shoulder.
"What did you really expect, Kate?" Michael looked down
at me, amused, which brought my annoyance to a full bloom.
"I don't date killers." I was determined to make my point
so I jabbed my elbow into his stomach.
"I'm not a killer, I'm a War Demon. And what's with the
hitting? Is this a mating ritual? I like."
"I'm not mating with you again, Beast Boy." I slapped his
chest with my open palm, I should have given up, but I could
be more than a little stubborn. It's not one of my best traits.
Michael grabbed my hand. "Of course you will, and
probably soon. Bet your bottoms are damp right now."
"Asshole, I was just swimming. That's why." Of course my
bottoms were damp and not from swimming. The reaction my
body had to him was just shocking. My nipples were already
tight, my stomach was fluttering wildly. I wanted to just lay
back with my legs spread and invite Michael to the feast. But
it wouldn't, it couldn't, wipe away the memories of what he
had done and what he was.
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"It's a Human thing, isn't it?" Michael turned my palm up
and ran his fingertips along my skin. It tickled and made the
want even worse. "Denial isn't something we practice down in
Hell."
"Neither are the Ten Commandments." My answer lacked
spark. My palm was quickly becoming an erogenous zone,
and I loved and hated it.
"So what did you think War Demons did, Kate? Tickle their
enemies to death?"
"Those weren't enemies!" I shouted that, and Michael let
go of my hand in surprise. His eyes darkened, but I didn't
care. "They were people who came for a party. You killed
perfectly nice people!"
"They weren't perfectly nice people. They hurt you."
We stared at each other. My heart couldn't have beat
faster than the quick step it was doing in my chest. I was
almost accepting it was the dark nature of a War Demon to
annihilate but sweet Jesus, because of me? Because I was
hurt, it brought out the need to destroy what he believed hurt
me?
This was more confusing to me than my original
perceptions of what happened. To murder for love. That had
to be a huge detriment in acceptable boyfriend behavior.
Even if he did it for me. I almost felt the stars in my eyes and
the thump, thump of my heart beating out of my chest. It
was an Archie and Betty kind of moment.
There was only one thing I could do. I made a fist and hit
him in the jaw as hard as I could. He flipped me into the pool
in response.
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I sputtered my way to the surface. Michael was still sitting
in the same place with the same expression on his face. "This
is what I'm talking about." He was perfectly calm. "If we were
out on a date and some guy walked up to me and hit me in
the face, I would shove him out of the way, no problem. But if
he hit on you, I'd slaughter him."
"You can't just go War Demon on people." I was still
protesting, but my mind was stuck on the idea of a date with
Michael. Somehow, I couldn't see catching a quick burger
before the movie with him. Then again, with Michael, it might
be do-able. Oh hell, what was I thinking? A War Demon just
wasn't the kind of guy you take to meet your friends if you
wanted them alive the next day.
"I don't just destroy people. That's what I'm trying to tell
you. I only kill Demons and people who threaten you."
"Well, don't." I submerged myself and enjoyed the
momentary underwater silence. Without Sherry in her bikini,
the pool was finally mine, and I loved it. Put me in the water
and I'll happily swim, float or even dog paddle myself into
oblivion. I skimmed through the water, intending to emerge
away from Michael and climb back out.
I came up and Michael was sitting directly in front of me.
He looked as though he'd been sitting there all day, casual
and unconcerned. "Why would you expect a man to change?
Don't you love someone for who they are?"
I went back underwater. Blue peace down below, and I
swam away again. I came back up near the diving board and
found Michael's legs dangling above me. "I love you even
though it makes no sense. You're Human which means that
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you're naturally weak. And I never thought I would fall in
love, much less with a Human."
"You... oh my God, how dare you!" I heard him laugh as I
went under again, but this time the quiet peace inside the
pool wasn't quite so quiet. Michael's words had joined me
down below and as I swam to the shallower end they came
with me. Weak. Human. Love.
I emerged and Michael was sitting there as unconcerned as
previously. This time I came up angry and his smile was my
undoing. "I am not weak." I grabbed his calf and he
unconsciously spread his legs for me to fit between. I pulled
myself to him. "It takes a strong woman to go through all this
shit and survive. You need to apologize."
"I'm sorry you're weak."
I saw red, but only because I was looking into his eyes. I
decided to take a different scenic route, so I lowered my head
and bit into his thigh. I don't know why I did it, but it was
worth it to hear Michael roar. Did I hurt him? I sincerely
doubted it, but for a vein-less, bloodless Demon, my tooth
marks were a nice bruising on his skin that didn't look
friendly.
I fell backward as Michael pushed me fully into the pool,
his body slamming the breath out of me as he hit the water. I
braced my feet on the outside of his thighs to push off, but
his hands came to my waist and held me in place. We went
under and there was no pleasure in it. Water churned around
us and we both came up gasping.
"Does this mean Demons can drown?"
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Michael pulled me against his body. I thought about trying
to hit him but was starting to get a little too winded to keep
up the hostility. "You want to drown me, Kate?" His voice was
a low rumble and damn if my vagina didn't immediately swell
and tighten at the sound.
"I thought maybe we could have our first date and drown
Jack then have some Italian."
Michael laughed, and I gave in and laughed too. "Say you
forgive me." His mouth came to my ear and blew gently
against it.
"I don't." I tried to push away from him, but he wasn't
budging.
"Then say you love me."
"Not in a million years." His teeth grabbed my earlobe, and
I nearly orgasmed. Damn the builder of bodies who made
some ears connect directly to the vulva. And damn the
Demons who paid attention. His teeth worked the lobe gently,
and I wanted to wrap myself around him and grind.
"Say you want me."
"I want lunch." I was ready to sob in longing and delight.
It just felt too damned good. "A nice bologna sandwich on
white bread with lots of mayonnaise. Oh God... potato chips. I
love potato chips. I ohhh..."
His tongue went inside my ear, and I was lost. My legs slid
down his and my arms around his neck. He knew he had me,
I knew he had me. Any way he wanted me, he could have
me.
Michael felt my acquiescence, and he happily accepted it.
His mouth left my ear and found my mouth eager for his. I
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had a quick, mean thought of biting his tongue, but it fled as
quickly as it came once my body relaxed against his.
I loved how I felt in his arms. Such a large man made me
feel so petite. I've never thought of myself as anything but
average, but with Michael, I was everything feminine. His
hands slid down and cupped my ass; I was pressed against
his chest. I let my hand slide down and feel the hard muscles.
His mouth left mine, his tongue darted quickly out and
licked my bottom lip. I giggled. "Is that a Demon thing?"
"Want to feel my Demon thing, little Human girl?" Michael
slid me down his body till I encountered his very hard Demon
appendage.
"In the interests of Human-Demon relations, you should
probably share this."
Michael grinned down at me. "I think you're right. Only
one little problem."
I snorted. There seemed to be about three feet between
his lips and mine. There apparently was a downside to the
big, bad Demon and little Human girl. "So what'cha planning
to do about it, big boy?"
"Clouds, this is a dilemma." Michael looked around
carefully. "We could always give it the good old college try..."
"Hell U?"
He ignored me. "I could try to get you in the house and
upstairs without running into Jack or Z, or having you change
your mind."
"Or without you killing someone," I added.
He continued to ignore me. "No, you're probably still too
skittish for that. Can't have you bolting before I nail you."
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"You sound like a frat boy now, and I never fuck frat boys.
Let me down."
"But there's one last option." He had ignoring me down to
an art form. I followed his gaze and saw the cabana. The
brand, spanking new cabana that had shown up before the
party.
"I doubt there's a bed in there."
Michael pulled me back up so we were face to face. "I
don't need a bed, but I do need this." His mouth was on mine
again and my nerves fluttered. I tried to think of any
response that didn't include sliding my tongue into his mouth
and tasting its depths, but I failed. I slid, darted, tasted and
teased. I licked and nibbled, I delighted and surrendered to
the helplessness.
Michael kept his hands under my ass, and as we kissed, he
walked us out of the pool. Neither of us paid any attention to
whether or not there was any kind of audience, either hidden
with cameras or not. We had a mission, and I wished I was
pushing back against it again. His cock was all the mission I
wanted. I'd work out all the emotions of it later.
He pushed inside the cabana, and we were suddenly in the
middle of The Arabian Nights. No wonder this was where
Sherry had brought her firefighters. I was willing to bet they
had decorated this just for her. Michael and I both stopped
kissing and looked around in wonder.
"It's a whorehouse," he said.
"Made for a perfect whore. Let's go back to the house."
"This is amazing." Michael placed me on my feet and
walked toward a pile of pillows. There were a few piles of
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gaily colored pillows atop Persian rugs. Some garish
tapestries hung on the walls.
"This is disgusting."
"It's private."
"It's puke."
"It's private." Michael fell backward on a pile of pillows.
"Speaking of that, I have some privates that want to say hi."
"It's like screwing a teenager." I put my hands on my hips
and glared at him. Michael waggled his eyebrows at me and
in a swift movement pulled his shorts down. His cock sprung
forward and I forgot to be disgusted. He might sound like a
teenager sometimes, but he didn't look anything like one. He
was glorious, his body art in repose.
"Now, tell me you love me."
"No." My mouth was dry. "I will tell you I'm starting to
think about forgiving you."
"Come and forgive me down here." Michael's hand patted
the pillow next to him and my legs felt shaky. Too shaky to
stand, I needed to sit quickly. That was the only reason I was
quickly on the pillows next to Michael and feeling my bathing
suit pulled off my body.
"Don't think this will change anything between us."
"If that doesn't, maybe this will." He looked at me with
that frank look of want, and my emotions skittered. I couldn't
help how he made me feel. No man ever made me feel so
loose and so sexy. The way he was looking at me was making
me wetter than ever. "You're so beautiful, I can't help
myself." His mouth skimmed my clavicle, his tongue light on
my skin.
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His hands cupped my breasts and gently squeezed. "Tell
me what will make you happy, Kate. Name it."
"Kiss me." His face came up to mine and his mouth was a
breath away. "Not like this. Kiss me."
"Kate," he groaned. His mouth fused on mine and he
tasted me deeply, his tongue busy plunging and diving. He
squeezed my breasts, and my nipples tightened almost
painfully. Michael's mouth left mine bereft and his head
dipped down, I groaned as he sucked the tip into his mouth.
My back arched toward him, and he alternated from side to
side, pulling lightly with his teeth, the scrape making the
nipples more tender and even more excited by the soothing
lick and then the draw of the suck. My hands traveled the
wide expanse of his back, touching the silken skin, feeling the
hard muscles.
His body moved over mine, and my legs parted. I was still
wet from the pool, as was Michael, but there was a greater
wetness between my thighs. As his mouth played with my
breasts, his large hand settled at the juncture between my
legs. He rubbed his palm across my mound and I spread
wider for him.
His mouth left my breasts and the air on my erect,
sensitized nipples was almost painful. Michael kissed wetly
down my stomach, his tongue leaving a damp trail marking
where he had been. When he got to the junction where my
legs met, I expected him to stop. Instead he parted me with
his fingers and his mouth came over me and sucked my clit
as he had my nipples.
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I almost jumped out of my skin. I never expected that he
even knew how to pleasure a woman in such a way, but if the
feelings rolling inside me were any indication then he had
done some homework. He teased my clit with his tongue,
pushing against it hard and quick then sucking. And just as I
thought the pleasure was perfect, he scraped his teeth
against me. I spasmed hard in my climax, ripples of pleasure
shaking through me.
If I thought that was the end of it, I was happily mistaken.
Michael brought his mouth over me and again his tongue
scored across my sensitive, swollen clit, but his hand got busy
too. Two fingers entered me and as he licked, his fingers
fucked. I could hear the wet sounds of them moving in and
out, and I imagined his cock taking their place.I climaxed a
second time and felt my vagina pulse around him.
"God, you're so perfect." Michael lifted up from me, his
face glistening and his eyes almost carmine colored. His cock
was a swollen piece of perfection and he knelt between my
legs, lifting me slightly so his cock head was at my opening.
"Tell me you love me."
"You don't play fair," I gasped.
"I can't. I need to hear it from you."
"God help me, Michael, I do love you."
He pushed in, and I groaned with the sheer pleasure of
being filled. His cock was hard and full, and it stretched me in
the finest way. He held my legs open, and once he slid part
way in, he thrust further and slayed me with sensation. He
was a killer, and I was happy to die under his touch.
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The slap of flesh against flesh, the wet sounds of him
moving inside me, my small gasps and his labored breathing
was a symphony of sexual sound that filled the small space.
He thrust in and found the spot few ever reached, his cock
rubbing it hard in and out.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as the slap of sex built to a
faster pace. It was growing and my body was alight with it. I
touched myself, cupping my breasts, caressing my belly. I
rubbed my clit and then withdrew. I reached for Michael, his
hand, his chest, whatever I could feel. We were frantic for
each other, and even though he was deep inside me, the
need was far from sated.
I wanted to scream my desire as it built further. His frantic
thrusts and my trembling need. I felt it in him first, the clench
of muscles as his climax started and he stilled momentarily
and then groaned, his eyes closing. He let go of my legs and
came down on me, his body my blanket, and he pushed as
deeply as he could inside. He thrust hard and up and his cock
swelled with seed, and I felt everything. His first spurt of
release brought my orgasm, shuddering and clenching and
more joyous than anything ever had been.
Michael collapsed on top of me. We were wet, we were
clammy, our skin stuck together but we didn't care. My nose
was buried in Michael's chest, and I could feel the heat that
had built inside of him. "Do you forgive me now?" he
rumbled.
"Sorry," I whispered, "what did you say your name was
again?"
The second time was even better.
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Chapter 11
Michael moved into my bedroom. It wasn't discussed at
any time, I just found myself opening my closet and finding a
row of red t-shirts hanging. I had a roommate.
Piper was in a moderate frenzy, we had screwed up his
program with the sudden elimination of three players. We
were getting good at ignoring him, the crazed whispers in our
ears becoming a background noise to our lives.
"The gay community is up in arms," Tino told us one day
as we were hanging around in the kitchen. We could usually
be found there or by the pool. Michael and I enjoyed trying to
find new places to have sex where we wouldn't be found. Z
was spending a lot of time reading romance novels. "Listen to
this meshaggas! 'He removed her stockings, unrolling them
down her shapely legs. Then he picked her up, his manhood
jutting. He lifted her right out of her shoes.' That's pure
crazy!"
Jack was our only problem, and usually when he showed
his face, Michael tossed him over the nearest structure.
"Why do the faygalas care about us?"
"Well, for one thing you keep calling them faygalas." Tino
frowned. "I suppose political correctness isn't a Heavenly
trait?"
"What's he talking about, Shayna?"
"I knew a Demon named Shayna," Michael mused, "ripped
his guts out and threw his detached head from a cliff."
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"I'm politically correct," Jack piped up. He had his hands
down his pants and we were all trying to pretend he wasn't
there. We might have been able to except for the squeaking.
"Could you not tell stories like that?" I asked Michael.
"What's wrong with calling a faygala a faygala?"
"I thought you might want to share my world."
"So our problem," Tino continued, "is that the gay
community thinks Tosh was discriminated against. We have
small people upset with Michael's imp tossing, and The
National Association of Frat Brothers wants Sherry back
because she continually dropped her top and Kate won't."
"Ratings are down I take it?"
"We went from the hottest show in America to nothing in
no time flat." Tino looked downhearted, and I wanted to feel
bad for him, but inwardly I was delighted. My fifteen minutes
of fame were officially over, and I just wanted my life back.
"Michael is the top internet search for the show but nothing
like what Sherry or Uriel did."
"So, where is Tosh now?"
"Probably with other faygalas."
"Z, cut it out."
"Well, Rabbi, you're right. Tosh is at the Denver AIDS
Hospice." At my look of horror, Tino reached over and pat my
hand. "Not as a patient. He's working there. He left the house
and went directly there. He was hired on immediately as a
spiritual-comfort liaison."
Z nodded. "God doesn't make mistakes with his Angels.
Tosh will be back in Heaven soon."
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"Once he gets his ass greased a few times." We all ignored
Jack. It really was easier that way.
"What's this doing to your career?" I was never going to
put Tino on my Christmas card list but still, I kind of liked
him.
"Well, it's not the huge comeback I was anticipating." We
all lapsed into momentary silence. Silent except for Jack, who
was making noises that we were all trying not to
acknowledge.
"Does it matter?" I looked up in surprise at Michael who
was looking truly curious. "Do ratings really matter?"
"For a television show that's all that matters," Tino
explained.
"Better breasts for better numbers," Jack howled.
"Can you throw the little pisher somewhere?" Z asked
Michael.
"Dwarf tossing is so unappreciated," I muttered.
"Did the good ratings come from Sherry's breasts?"
Tino was glad to have an audience for the subject dearest
to his heart. "The audience seemed really taken by the
emotional by-play of the lone Human girl fighting her
attraction to Hell while being wooed by Heaven."
"Who were you quoting?" I asked.
"I don't understand." Michael laid his hands flat on the
counter top. "The good ratings came because of Kate?"
"Basically." Tino looked apologetically at me. "Most of the
viewers assumed Uriel was wooing her also, and wanted to
see if the Demon or the Archangel would win her heart."
"What a load of crap." I was flabbergasted.
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"Then the wooing of Kate is what makes people watch."
"Whatever you're planning, Demon boy," I warned, "stop
planning it."
"What are you planning?" Tino was looking suddenly
interested, and Michael was looking surprisingly smug. That
was not a good thing.
A date with a Demon. Dinner and a movie with a War
Demon. A hot night at the Bowl-a-rama. "Whatever you want
to do, it's yours for the doing."
"Stay home and read a book?"
"That's the wrong attitude, Kate." Tino gave me one of
those looks intended to chastise me; I thought he looked
moderately gassy. He was delighted though, his hope that
playing up the romance between the Human girl and the
minion from Hell would bring the audience back.
I wasn't as happy with the idea. I was more than a little
nervous about a televised courtship, much less what fresh
horrors would await me on Michael's first ever date.
I decided to wear jeans and a pretty camisole. The jeans
could take a lot of wear and if we were chased out of town by
a pitchfork wielding mob, they were the best thing in my
wardrobe for fleeing. The camisole showed off my breasts
rather well.
When I came downstairs, I was pleased to see Michael
wearing a pair of jeans also and a button-down red shirt. He
looked hot. He looked like someone I wanted to take into my
bed and fuck long and hard. Then I realized I had earlier and
would later. That still didn't mean this wouldn't be a complete
disaster from start to finish.
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"You look beautiful." Michael kissed me on the cheek.
"What was that?" I whispered. "A cheek kiss? A
compliment? Where's my War Demon?"
"Tino gave me a book, Dating for Dummies. It said you
should always compliment your sweetheart first thing."
"Remind me to thank Tino." My sarcasm was lost on
Michael. "So, where are we going?"
"It's going to be a surprise."
"I don't think I have the stomach for a surprise."
"Really?" Michael arched an eyebrow. "Well, Tino helped
me pick and we decided on Le Petite Caisse."
"French restaurant?" Now I arched a brow. "Can't we try
something on a smaller scale for our first date?"
"What would be a smaller scale?"
And that's how we ended up at Burger Blast! From the
Past! for our first date dinner.
Burger Blast was a modern day burger joint designed to
look like a 1950's burger joint. That meant cute. A large
counter with retro counter stools. The tables were small with
tiny iron chairs. A large jukebox dominated the room while
skinny Elvis wanna-be's boogied from table to table taking
orders.
"Is this romantic?" Michael looked around in dismay.
"We don't need romantic. We just need safe. This looks
safe."
"Why safe? What isn't safe?"
I grabbed Michael's collar and pulled him down to me. "You
may not kill anybody tonight. You may not maim, destroy,
hurt or cause harm."
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"What if it's for protection?"
"Only an idiot would take on a War Demon." Then I
thought about men I knew. "Okay, there are idiots who might
try. So no killing or maiming, but if anyone attacks you or
yours, which includes me, then you may hurt or cause harm."
"I swear, Kate."
"Kiss me, Demon."
"Not in front of the children."
"What chil—" There were two adorable children standing in
front of us, looking up at Michael with extreme awe. It was
strange, the children stared at Michael, and Michael stared at
the children. I wanted to call it a stalemate. They were both
white-blond, clear faced little stunners looking at the black
and flame haired, dangerously sexy War Demon.
"My name's Cooper," the older one said, "this is my sister,
Tina. She says you can beat up Batman, but I don't think so."
"Batman is pretty tough," Michael said slowly, "and he has
a cool car. I don't have a cool car."
"You throw Jack." Tina's eyes were saucer wide with hero
worship. "Jack is bad. Mommy says Jack is a doody, poo-poo
head."
"That sums up Jack pretty well," I agreed.
"Jack can't help himself." The children stared agog at
Michael and so did I. "Jack was made to be bad. Jack being
good would be like cows flying and saying oink."
"Cooper! Tina!" A blond woman waved at the children from
a table and they made faces, but she shook her head hard
and gestured toward their seats. Reluctantly, and with many
backward glances, they left Michael.
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"Planning on charming all of Humanity?"
Michael shrugged and looked around. "So what do we do?"
"Let's find a seat."
Burger Blast was a surprisingly busy little restaurant. The
tables were made of adorable iron curlicues with a circular
marble top. The chairs were a similar iron style, too cute for
words; too cute and much too small for a War Demon to sit
comfortably on.
"We could go somewhere else," I suggested. "Somewhere
with booths."
"I'm fine." He didn't look fine, however, as he tried to
balance on a single butt cheek. I could feel eyes on us, but I
was concerned with Michael. This was his first date and I
wanted it to go well for him. I'd had my first date with Andy
Templeton when I was sixteen, we went to the aquarium and
then made out in the backseat of his brother's car on the way
home, and I knew I could survive almost any disaster.
Although this might be greater than any I'd ever faced. A first
date had more potential misfires and mistakes than the
Seventh Level of Hell. My darling Demon had no idea what a
bad time he might be in for.
Michael gave a low growl, which was heard by neighboring
tables. I couldn't think of anything to make this better and
was seriously considering faking a sudden case of cramps to
get us out of there. Shouldn't a burger joint in Middle America
have chairs that fit slightly larger rears? Weren't the news
agencies always telling us our Middle American derrieres were
spreading?
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There was a table of teenagers looking surreptitiously at
us. I didn't want to bark at them, but I was getting tired of
the glances and worried Michael might not appreciate the
attention. I was afraid the attention might become something
even scarier. Scarier than a War Demon?
Teenage boys high on their own testosterone, high school
football players. My heart was beating double time. One of
the boys was making me the most nervous with how his eyes
were glued on Michael. My protective radar was beeping. My
greatest fear was Michael being pissed. Tossing a jock is a
greater offense in most eyes than tossing an imp.
I was about to bend over and start my fake cramp routine
when it happened. The boy who was watching Michael kicked
a chair over. Not kicking a chair on its side, but rather he
pushed a chair with his foot, making that horrible, deep
screechy sound that's even worse than the chalkboard-nails
sound; a second small chair pushed next to the one Michael
was trying to balance on.
My heart stopped. The collective hearts of the restaurant
patrons stopped. I could see people staring openly and the
complete lack of conversation that suddenly overtook the
area did not bode well.
Michael stiffened and his body started to rise. Dear God,
don't let him hurt a teenager. I was desperately trying to
think of something to say when Michael swung the second
chair next to his and then settled back down: one chair per
butt cheek. Then he smiled. "So, what do we eat?"
That was where Michael discovered the American staple of
red meat on a bun with crunchy, hot French fries. Possible the
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hamburger and fries were the only things on this earth that's
both bad enough to be from Hell and good enough to be
Heavenly.
As Michael was licking his fingers after his third double
bacon, guacamole cheeseburger, the guy from the other table
leaned over, his chair balancing on its back legs, and asked,
"Aren't you those guys from TV? What are you doing here?"
I didn't expect Michael to answer, much less engage the
teens in conversation. In this place he was a different man, a
natural wonder where I had the pleasure of being a sightseer.
"We sure are. I'm on my first date. So what do you all do for
dating?"
The kids exchanged looks. They had gone from awe to
meeting real celebrities and were starting to just let all their
natural curiosity loose. Michael was the cause for a lot of
curiosity.
"Is that what you're doing?" a cheerleader asked. She was
the perfect little blonde with the perfect body in the fantasy
short skirt and pom-poms on the table. She was attached to
the jock, who we later learned was named Jason, but she was
looking at Michael in such a way that my initial reaction was
to grab my man and mark my own territory. But she was just
a teenager and I should've known better. Should doesn't
mean I did, but the idea was there.
Still, the kids were pretty cool. They were friendly and
listened, and we enjoyed their enthusiasm and humor. So
Michael's asking them for dating advice was taken seriously
by them and with a roll of the eyes by me.
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"Well, depends on the purpose of the date, man." The boys
exchanged smarmy glances. "You know, sometimes you're
hoping to get some happiness at the end of the night."
Jason's girl smacked him on the arm but she didn't blush the
way I would have. Kids sure are different every single year.
Michael grinned at me. "Am I going to get some happiness
at the end of the night?"
"Depends on what I get for dessert."
Michael was overjoyed to get more food and our server,
Roy, was delighted to get more airtime. Since he wasn't
paying for it, Michael offered all the kids hot fudge sundaes.
Jason demurred, "Thanks, man but not for me. I got a
game, and I shouldn't have done this."
"What kind of game?" Michael asked.
"Jason is the quarterback for the Allentown Gophers." Aha,
that explained the cheerleader hold.
"Gophers?" My high school team was the Titans, which was
a much tougher name although the team itself never
amounted to much.
"We like to go fer the win." Punning gophers, even better.
"What's a quarterback?"
Roy put our sundaes down, and even he stopped and
stared at Michael in amazement. "Don't you know football?"
he asked in the same tone of voice someone might ask why
you didn't know the sky was above.
"Satan doesn't encourage team sports."
If you think you know chaos, watch a bunch of men talk
about football. It's exactly like a woman's eating binge: eyes
are glassy, mouths keep moving and nothing productive
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happens except bellies somehow get bigger and brains get
duller.
The football conversation, however, galvanized the entire
Burger Blast clientele. Soon we were surrounded by a large
part of the populace of Allentown, Colorado, explaining
football to Michael, teasing Jason about the team, which we
learned weren't the winningest gophers in state history, and
just being a happy community with a War Demon and his
paramour in their midst. Gods, I loved America.
I also loved hot fudge sundaes and finished mine while the
world around me talked football. I probably should have
listened to the conversation with more care. Otherwise, we
might not have ended our date quite the way we did.
It was just like a scene from a movie. Looking around and
realizing I was sitting in the stands of the local high school's
athletic field, a War Demon by my side as we watched the
Allentown Gophers get trounced by the Riverside Saints.
"It's like a war. And I know war." Michael was sitting
hunched forward, his hands fisted on his knees. "Look at
them." He indicated the Saints. "They're more aggressive.
They have the killer instinct."
"You know this is a high school football game."
Michael gave me a stare every woman alive would know.
That male superior, women would never understand, look.
Nice to know that attitude can be found any place where
penises reside.
I lapsed into silence and tried not to appear bored. The
only sport that interested me as a spectator was men's
tennis, and that had a lot more to do with the shorts than the
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sports. The whole man and football thing was beyond my
comprehension. Even men who resided in Hell and had never
before seen a football game became a drooling Neanderthal
the moment the pigskin flew.
At least we weren't being stared at. Here in the bleachers,
we weren't the celebrities or the oddities, we were just one
couple in the midst of families and friends cheering on the
Gophers. It felt almost normal, as normal as anything I had
experienced yet. I liked it.
Michael was a solid piece of male hunk, and I knocked his
leg with mine. "Want to canoodle, big guy?"
"Not now." He didn't even look at me. His eyes remained
glued on the field, even though they seemed to be in half
time, or negotiation talks, or whatever they do when they're
on the field not doing anything.
"Typical man," I snorted. I wanted to be galled, but I was
slightly amused. I was sitting with the hottest man not alive
on a date, and I knew we'd go back to our temporary home
later and have the best sex I ever had. Life was good, even if
it included high school football.
"Do you fucking believe that?" Michael's grousing pulled
me out of my contemplation of our amazing future hot sex
and pulled my attention to the field. "Look at that. They're
going to kill him."
The teams were out of their muddle or huddle, or whatever
it was, and they were positioned out on the field. I couldn't
see what Michael was talking about. The boys were out in
some sort of formation. I saw Jason and felt a small surge of
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pride. We might have only met him tonight but damned if he
wasn't now a part of our shared history.
"I think I get this stuff." Michael spared me a quick glance.
"Those guys—" I made a vague gesture toward the players.
"—want to move the ball down the field and the other guys
want it to go in the other direction."
Michael rocked back slightly and looked at me with a sweet
look of benevolent care. "Sports really aren't your thing." He
patted my hand and then hunched back forward.
I was slightly miffed. I might even have huffed but then
decided my fantasies of Michael licking Whoozy-Whip off my
breasts were a much more pleasant pastime. I could ignore
the entire football thing happening around me. I didn't ignore
things so completely I couldn't manage to get my Demon to
sit back and put an arm around me. I cuddled and imagined
while Michael watched the game and creatively cursed the
other team.
The Gophers had the ball. They seemed to be farther down
the field in the wrong direction, but hadn't been having much
luck moving the other way. The Saints really were better, and
our poor Jason was taking a lot of the brunt. It was hard not
to wince when he got hit, even harder when it was more than
one.
Some of those football players could easily have been War
Demons themselves. They had the size, height and bulk to be
seriously scary. In fact, I almost asked Michael if any of them
were brethren, there seemed to be a lot of Hell out there.
Obviously, I knew nothing about football and wouldn't
begin to try to explain it in a rational way. It wasn't hard to
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see what happened next, although parts of it will probably
always remain blurred.
The line of players in front of Jason weren't as big or as
vicious as the line they were facing. So, when the ball
snapped back to Jason, he took a few steps back and watched
his offensive line get destroyed. The Saints players took down
the Gopher's line like they were a children's conga line. The
people in the bleachers were screaming and Michael joined
them; on his feet and shouting encouragement.
"Throw the ball," seemed the chant, and Jason looked
around in confusion and then he stepped back again, his arm
stretching back and then throwing forward. So many things
happened at the same time, it was almost impossible to know
where to look. Jason's throw was a thing of beauty, even a
non-football fan could see how it took to the air, spiraling
gently as it soared. That ball deserved to have wings, it
moved so pretty.
I think we all decided to just stop for a moment and watch
that pretty pigskin fly. It would have been perfect if the other
team also stopped to admire the football. Unfortunately, they
barreled through the line of Gophers and right at Jason.
Jason disappeared. He had been standing, his arm still
extended, and then he was hit by an avalanche of Saintly
man-beef.
I heard Michael's bellow, and before I could even catch my
breath, he was on the field. I didn't know my man could move
so fast, he was pure beautiful motion just as that ball had
been. He was like a bull; he was thundering, his bellows
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announcing him as his feet hit the turf. He was brilliant
although frightening.
"No killing!" I screeched and prayed he heard me, that he
remembered his promise.
Those who were still standing moved quickly out of the
War Demon's way. Those who didn't learned that being hit by
a two hundred thirty pound high school football player was a
walk in the park compared to being shouldered by Michael. I
actually saw someone fly, but it might have been a trick of
the light.
It was the defensive players for the Saints who really felt
Michael in all his glory. He picked them off Jason like they
were used Kleenex and tossed them aside. The entire crowd
was on its feet, the shock of watching Michael freezing
everybody in place. The crack of a bone breaking, helmets
hitting each other, these were the sounds Michael created on
the field..
"Hail Mary," I heard a man whisper behind me, and I
thought even prayer wouldn't help. I was glad I wore my
jeans since the crowd was obviously going to be running us
out soon.
There was a Gopher at the other end of the field dancing
around by himself, the ball held high over his head. The coach
of the Gophers was stalking across the ground, screaming at
Michael. I couldn't hear the words but if the red faced, neck
veins popping look was any indication, they weren't words of
love.
I was moving across the area before I stopped to think. It
was probably best that way since thinking wasn't proving to
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be an ally to me. A lot of others were already moving toward
the fracas, and I truly believed the angry mob was about to
form.
"Do you have any idea how much paperwork this is going
to be?" I stopped short when I heard what the coach was
screaming at Michael. Paperwork? Run out of Allentown,
Colorado in triplicate?
The players were in various stages of "ow." One brick wall
was holding his arm that was bent in a way arms weren't
made to bend, his embarrassment obviously mounting with
his mother's tearful concerns.
"Man, you were awesome." Jason looked none the worse
for wear and he was staring at Michael with frank admiration.
Hero worship on the rise with mighty War Demons in
Allentown.
Michael grunted something and faced the teacher. It was
like looking at two behemoths facing off. Stonehenge versus
the Grand Canyon. The other man might not have been
Michael's size but he had the attitude and aggression down.
"What did you do to my son?" wailed the mother. Michael
ignored her and watched the coach warily.
"You that television guy?" I swear he wanted to spit but
didn't only because his spittle would have landed on a parent.
They were crowding in pretty close. What took me aback
momentarily was the invisible techs were allowing themselves
some visibility among all the Humans. I was shocked to see
people with cameras; I was just so used to the bright haze at
the edge of my sight. I hadn't even been aware they were
really there. But there they stood, looking like regular people
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wearing jeans and tennis shoes and carrying large cameras
on their shoulders.
"War Demon. Michael." Oh great, he regressed to Cave
Demon. Grunt. Hit. Kill.
"You have any idea what the fuck you doing?"
Michael's response was a shrug. I squinted but didn't see
any pitchforks or burning things heading our way. They would
be if Michael continued acting the Neanderthal.
"You hurt my baby," a mother wailed and was followed up
immediately with an embarrassed, "Oh, Mom!"
"You ever play football?" Michael grunted a negative. I was
wishing for a hole to climb in. This was starting to make my
desire for Michael look deviant. Where was my charming
Demon?
"Oh, television," I heard someone squeal in the
background.
"You might make a good assistant coach if you ever learn
the game." My jaw must have dropped and hit the ground.
Broken bones, damaged high schoolers, and Michael was
networking for his after-Demon career.
"Mom, I'm gonna be on TV." Well hell, there went a normal
date.
The world wanted to be on reality television. Probably
everybody but the ones stuck in the middle of it wanted to be
on reality TV.
Piper knew his business, and he had the Allentown parents
and players eating out of Tino's hand. Yes, Tino appeared and
there was lots of celebrity worship at his approach. The dull
gazes, quieter speaking tones; Tino still had celebrity clout
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and he knew how to use it. Within minutes, he had the newly
Human cameramen filming players and their families. Talk of
lawsuits disappeared as talk of airtime increased.
People were such whores for camera time.
I was forgotten. My celebrity status became non-existent
and my girlfriend status even less so. Michael was pulled
away by The Men, suddenly necessary to discuss sports,
working out, spitting or whatever men like to talk about.
Maybe they just grunt together. The rest of the world hovered
around Tino and the cameras.
The only person who looked more dejected than me was a
Gopher holding the football. "What're you doing time for?"
He looked at me like I was a recent loony bin escapee.
"Huh?" So much for any sparkling repartee among the losers.
"You got the ball?" I was just trying to make some sort of
conversation. Apparently not the right sort as his face fell and
it was only masculine pride I'm sure that kept him from
blubbering.
"I caught it." His misery was deeper than mine. "I won the
game. It was a Hail Mary. I caught the winning touchdown."
Damn. Sometimes the universe really did know how to
sucker punch a guy.
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Chapter 12
Michael made a friend. Coach Tony Peters saw Michael as a
man just waiting to get initiated into American manhood. My
War Demon discovered poker nights with the guys, he
collapsed into bed smelling of stale cigar smoke and cheap
beer. American masculinity; a day at the track watching cars
drive around in a circle and a little biased sexism got him a
kick in the shins and me a stubbed toe. In other words,
Michael was happy.
The rest of us weren't doing quite as well. Z was spending
a lot of time alone, either reading romance novels or
brooding. Jack was bored and taking it out on all of us with
pranks that were going from stupid, such as used condoms in
our pancakes, to dangerous, like a fire set in Z's room. We
complained to Tino, who told Piper and we were told to deal
with it.
Good television was good television and a bored imp with
screaming housemates makes for excellent television.
What did I do? I worried. I worried about Michael enjoying
Humanity. I worried about Jack going overboard and killing
someone, namely me. I worried about Z's funk. More than
anyone, I worried about myself.
I never thought of myself as a happily ever after. I never
dreamed of white dresses or having the requisite two children
and a dog and a cat. I wanted to fall in love, and sometimes I
thought it would be wonderful to come home to someone who
really cared about how annoying Dr. A was in clinic today, but
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I gave up bridal dreams when I was in high school and didn't
get a date in three years. Then the college losers, culminating
in the adult amoebas, ended any dreams of rose covered
cottages.
So here I was in love. Unexpected, big, stinking love that
took my breath away. Even when Michael came in smelling of
cigar smoke and talking about a great deal for a new car, my
heart did a little melt and I fell into Michael just that little bit
more.
In love with no possibility of a future. Maybe if I threw the
game then Satan would consider allowing Michael and I a
future. Would it be a future beyond fiery pits and Demons like
Sky? That thought made me shudder. Then I folded my body
next to Michael's and the eternal fire didn't look quite as hot.
Z found me walking along the garden, in a deep brood.
"What has you so deep in thought?"
I linked my arm through his. "What's Heaven like, Z? Do
they have crafts? Lots of floating in clouds?"
He chuckled. "Heaven is different things to different
people, Shayna. I don't know what your Heaven is."
"That makes no sense. We know all about Hell, shit, Satan
makes it a point to push it in our faces constantly. Go to Hell
and burn. Go to Hell and watch Demons chew your bones
while you're in eternal torment. Why doesn't God give us the
same look?"
"I think you're asking more than just what Heaven looks
like." Z stopped and looked around. "Some might find this
Heaven, right here."
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I looked at the garden and could agree with him on some
levels. There was profusion of dahlias and in a small space,
the color shouted out to be noticed. "This is beautiful but
anyone with a little money could buy the flowers."
"You can't buy your way into God's grace. What do you
think Heaven is, Kate?"
Ye Gods, what a question. "Well...I like to think Heaven is
like home. A perfect home where everyone you love is there.
It's childish."
"Not childish." He gave my arm a small squeeze. "Heaven
reflects God and God reflects love. We all have different
interpretations of love. Therefore, God has many different
reflections."
"So, God is a purple and white dahlia."
"To someone he is, Shayna. To you, he's your mother's
face before she got sick."
The air blew from my lungs. "I never told you about her."
"No darling, you didn't."
The garden became watery through my tears. It was easy
to remember Satan; hell, he'd been putting his face in front
of us for ages. God worked on such a quieter level. Not the
Bible thumping, knocking on your door on Sunday morning
level, but the small remembrances that He's there and He is
paying attention. Even when we think He's forgotten. God
doesn't forget.
"Can you tell me what Heaven is to you?" I saw Z's
hesitation. "I'm sorry, if it's too personal."
"No." His eyes were the quietest blue, almost silver in this
light. "My idea of Heaven changes and it's changing right
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now. Regret is a terrible thing, Shayna. You remind me of
how much I regret."
"I'm sorry."
"Sometimes it can be a good thing, nu? And for you, I'll
tell you something maybe I shouldn't share but you deserve
to know. Your Demon's idea of Heaven is you, Shayna. A life
with you."
Pow! Right in the kisser. God sure likes to pack a punch.
When I was growing up, we had a house with a side
garden that never had anything growing in it. But there was a
brick wall jutting from the house to the rock wall that
separated us from our neighbor and I loved to sit in the
shadow of that wall and read. It was a poem, sitting there
with the cold brick against my back and the sun warming my
flesh.
666 Angel Lane didn't have a brick wall but it had the
cabana with its Arabian Nights tacky motif. I liked to lie on
the pillows that carried the essence of Michael and my
lovemaking, and read or dream or nap. Once or twice I might
even have masturbated but that wasn't a usual occurrence.
After talking to Z, the cabana was a good retreat. I felt like
I had been emotionally sucker punched and I was still
smarting from that. I cried a little, cursed a little and when
Michael found me I was snoozing a little.
His arms were heavy and warm and felt good to move
into. My face went into his chest and he smelled a little
masculine and pungent, that wonderful mixture of sweat and
heat. On any other man I would probably recoil, with Michael
I wanted to burrow.
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"What are you doing in here?" Michael's mouth skimmed
over my buried head, I lifted my face to him for a kiss. "Were
you crying? Was it Jack?"
"No, I haven't even seen Jack. I was just being
sentimental. Did you have fun today?"
"I went to football practice at the high school. It was really
amazing, Kate." Michael looked like a high school geek who
just discovered fantasy games. "And I have shape-shifting
abilities too!" "You know, Tony thinks Jason might be able to
get a college scholarship if he can get a little more
confidence. Can you imagine?"
"Were you ever a kid?" God, the things we think at the
strangest times.
Michael drew away slightly, his features creased with
thought. "I don't think so. Clouds, who ever thinks about it?"
"I was." I sat up as did Michael. There went our
canoodling. "I was thinking about my childhood and the
things about it that were wonderful. So were you born fully
grown?"
"Fully realized." Michael skimmed back, away from me,
and came to sit cross-legged on the floor. "We just are. With
the capacity we were created with. We learn as we do, we
incorporate our knowledge and talent and then wreak our
particular chaos."
"You don't wreak chaos. You fight the bad guys."
"All Demons are bad guys. I just fight the worst of them."
"There's nothing bad about you."
Michael's hand slapped against his thigh. "I'm a War
Demon. Damn it, Kate, this isn't working out."
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Oh Lord. It isn't you, it's me. You're a great girl, but I'm
not ready to settle down. There's someone else. All the
horrible things men say to women flew through my mind. My
man wanted to end our relationship. It wasn't working out.
"I can't pretend to be some sort of big, bad Demon."
Michael was on his feet and pacing suddenly. His hands
gathered in fists at his side. "There has to be a way to win
this thing. Damn it, Kate, there has to."
"You mean win Limbo?"
"No!" He stopped and his eyes flashed crimson. "I mean
win a future. A real future. Tony would give me a job. We
could buy a new car and have dinner at Jason's house and
have a baby. We could—"
"We can't." Michael didn't look at me. I was trembling. My
entire life I was the girl who was left, I was the one who
settled, and now I was the one having to say the unsayable
words. "We can't have that future, Michael. Because you
belong to Satan and I...I don't."
He didn't move and I couldn't stop. God, why did my
mouth have to go into overdrive now? "I love you. I love you
more than I ever loved anyone, but you know we can't have a
happily ever after. No babies. No house in the suburbs. We
have this and we have now and that's all they're giving us."
His lips barely moved. "I want more."
"Oh, baby." I moved to his side and put my arms around
him, it was like hugging a tree. "I'm sorry. I want it too but I
don't think that's in the cards for us."
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"Then I want a different deck." Michael moved out of my
arms and headed to the door. "I won't lose, Kate. It's too
important for me to lose now."
"Me too," I whispered to his retreating back. "I don't want
to lose either."
I wasn't sure what to expect later. We ate dinner as a
family of three: Jack was missing and that was always a good
thing. We had pasta and salad and nobody seemed too
hungry. Z was aware of the discomfort between Michael and
me. It was impossible not to notice.
"Anybody have any idea what comes next?"
"With the game?" Z chased a crouton on his salad plate
with his fork. "They need to figure out some sort of challenge
soon. Ratings can't be allowed to slip."
"Love those ratings." I was pushing spaghetti with my
fork. Michael had been quieter than ever. I spared quick
glances his way, but he was avoiding looking at me. Maybe
the game was truly on between us.
"So you're liking Humanity?" Z was addressing Michael.
"I do like it." Michael had a dull red flush to his cheeks. His
eyes were not going to meet mine under any circumstance.
"The funny thing about people," Z continued, "is how much
they like to do the right thing. Even those lining up at your
master's steps, most of them had principals too, you know."
"Then why are they in Hell?"
"Well, their principals didn't apply to everything." Z
chuckled. "When I was Reb, there was a businessman who
liked to have a girlfriend and his wife. He made minyan every
morning, he was generous and he loved the Lord. I asked him
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why deny himself Heaven for a sweetheart on the side? And
he told me having a girlfriend was a mitzvah for his wife,
since she didn't have to worry about making herself pretty for
him. She could concentrate on the things that mattered to
her. His girlfriend had a man who doted on her without her
having to make babies she didn't want and he had the
pleasure of a happy wife and a happy girlfriend."
Michael nodded, and I snorted. "Male logic."
Z raised his eyebrows. "Imagine my surprise when I ran
into him in Heaven."
"No way, Z!"
He shrugged but I could see the humor warm his blue
eyes. "He knew his wife better than I did. She was happy he
had a pretty on the side. The side pretty never wanted a
husband, and she had what she wanted. A mitzvah where
you'd never think to see one."
I sighed. "This just goes to prove God really is a man."
"So where does that leave us?" Michael pushed his food
away, placed his elbows on the table and leaned in. "Does
your God believe in mitzvahs for Demons?"
"You might be amazed at what the Lords will do." Z
fingered his plate away. "You might be asking for the
impossible, Demon. But then, you don't know unless you ask,
do you?"
"And Satan will just let you go?" I didn't try to hide my
skepticism. "I wasn't aware the Devil was known for his
heart."
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"Demons aren't known for their hearts either, Kate." For
the first time Michael met my eyes completely. "You helped
me find I have one. Maybe we need a little faith."
"Now this is great television," Z exclaimed happily, "one of
Satan's Demons lecturing a Human about faith. You just
made Sunday school teachers throughout the world so
happy."
Michael's words were whispered for my ears only. "Can
you have faith in us, Kate?"
"In us, yes." In Satan, not so much. Michael didn't need to
hear that.
Z left us after dinner. He was going to ponder the
universe, in his words, and then go to bed. "What about you,"
I asked Michael, "planning to beat a few brain cells to an
unrecognizable pulp a while longer?"
"I was thinking I might ponder your left breast." His gaze
heated, and my body followed suit. "Then when I'm done
your right breast deserves a little consideration too."
"I like how you think." I pushed up against my Demon and
his arms circled me. "There might be a Demon thing I'd like
to give some thought to, if you know a Demon that has the
time."
"I love little Human girls who look at all the angles."
Michael pushed against me and the said object I wanted to
spend time with made itself known. He kissed me, and I knew
it was on camera. I knew our rather decadent repartee might
be on national television and I no longer cared. We could be
the modern day Romeo and Juliet, torn between dueling Gods
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and ultimately having some grand burn-out that would
entertain audiences for centuries.
The kiss he gave me wasn't sweet,it was heat and need
and all the things that burn between hungry lovers. I lost
myself in it; his lips, his tongue, the taste of his mouth. The
thought of living without him, living without his kiss and his
touch, wanted to intrude.
I heard Z yell. Michael's hands pushed me against his
body, lifting me slightly to nestle his penis against my belly,
his teeth scraping my bottom lip and my nipples were
tightening, while my heart felt like it was breaking and Z's
voice called out.
"Jesus." I pushed at Michael and he released me, his face
confused. "Did you hear Z yell?"
He shook his head but I'd heard it. I turned away and
listened but heard nothing outside of the tiny buzzing always
present with our other-world technicians. Where had Z gone
to?
"Are you thinking about the Rabbi when you kiss me?" I
heard the teasing in Michael's voice, but I couldn't respond in
kind. I started walking toward the kitchen; maybe I'd find Z
there and everything okay.
"Something's wrong." There was that feeling gripping me
and Michael huffed but he followed. Probably his dick was just
following its soon to be nesting place but still, I felt better
having Michael there. There was nothing like a War Demon
boyfriend to make a woman feel safe.
Z wasn't in the kitchen. Our soaking pasta pot was in the
sink, the rest of the dishes already in the dishwasher. No sign
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of Z. "Let's go upstairs, babe. Let me show you my least
Human part."
"Funny. Not." The back door was closed and I didn't see Z
out by the pool. "Maybe he went to the garden."
I felt a growing unease as we stepped outside. It was so
quiet with darkness settling; I was in a heightened state of
awareness. Fear does amazing things to a person, my heart
was beating like a bass drum and my throat was closing up,
but I kept walking. Fear doesn't have more power than love,
and I needed to know Z was okay.
"Should we go get a flashlight?" Michael was scowling at
the dark garden, and I understood why. The only way we'd
find Z there was if we tripped over him.
"Do you know where one is?"
"Mmm, no."
I looked around. "I'll turn on the lights around the pool.
That should make it easier." Michael nodded and I trotted
over toward the pool, the small beams inside the pool were
on and lighting the water in an ethereal way. It was beautiful
like a fairy-tale luminosity. Only the sight of Z lying on the
bottom, his blue eyes staring lifeless, reminded me this was a
strictly Human tableau.
I dove into the water, the sudden shock of cold wet unable
to register through the shock of seeing Z's body. He looked
like a wax statue just lying there, his hair swaying gently in
the wave. I was waiting for him to wink at me, to say
"Shayna, I gotcha!" but his eyes didn't blink, they remained
open and unseeing.
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You can't cry underwater. Wrapping my arms around Z's
chest, knowing I lost my friend, I wanted to gasp and sob,
wanted to rail against the powers letting this happen. I held Z
against me and thrust from the bottom of the pool with my
feet. I shoved off but didn't move.
Again, I tried to push Z and myself up, but we didn't
move. I felt panic flutter in my chest and I let go of Z,
planning to swim up to the air, but Z wrapped his arms
around me suddenly and held me still against his body.
I tried to move away from him but he wasn't letting go, his
grip around my waist like steel. His fingers were pinions along
my spine digging in. I attempted to hit him but water
impedes that kind of movement, my hands hitting his flesh
softly.
His lovely blue eyes, those Heavenly eyes lost their haze
and red seeped into them like a bloody mist settling. Z
himself remained solid and solidly holding me down, but his
body began to change, the shifting altering him to a smaller
form, a redder body with its curling horns.
I raked my nails down his face and Jack grimaced but he
refused to let me go. There was no more pretend Z, just the
imp grinning his too toothsome grin as my lungs began to
burn.
I was going to die. I really wished I could find a way to kill
him first.
I tried to plunge my thumbs into Jack's eyes. I was about
to lose the battle, my lungs couldn't take anymore.
Jack's eyes widened and he let go. A strong hand pulled
against my shoulder, yanking me away from Jack and up. I
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saw Jack's hand in a larger one, his fingers bent backward
and touching the back of his hand. I hoped it hurt as bad as it
looked.
I couldn't get to the water's surface fast enough.
My lungs almost exploded as I gulped air. Water streamed
down my face, my clothes were sodden and weighing me
down but all I could think to do was be joyful for breath. God
is good, he allows us to breathe.
I struggled to the side and held the pool's rim, trying to
catch my breath and stop my heart from pounding. I saw
Michael in the water, his black and red hair swaying lazily as
he seemed not to be bound by the same watery difficulties I'd
faced. His punches underwater looked unhampered.
I pulled myself up and landed as a sodden bundle at the
edge of the pool. My muscles ached and I could feel the stab
of a headache behind my eyes. Michael emerged a few feet
away, one of his large hands wrapped around Jack's throat.
He turned to find me, the concern on his face making me long
to weep. I didn't have the strength to make a tear.
"Are you okay?"
"Fuck. Did you kill him? Please tell me you killed him."
Michael tossed Jack up, like a rag doll thrown by a
tantrumming child, and Jack landed on his side. Something
cracked as he landed and as much as the sound brought me
pleasure, I knew how easily he'd heal and be back up to
snuff.
"He's unkillable. But I think I hurt him."
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Michael pulled himself up next to me and I pulled myself
against him. My brick wall of comfort. "I think he gets off on
the pain."
Michael wisped a kiss over my head. "What can we do?"
I choked back a laugh. I'd almost liked Jack, that strange
little moment at the grocery store when he showed a little
compassion. Other than that, Jack turned out to be the worst
experience I'd ever had.
I put my hands on Michael's shoulders and used him to
pull myself up. My legs felt weak but I had enough strength to
do what I had to do. I walked over slowly to where Jack was
still laying. He watched my approach through slit red eyes.
"Want to go for a swim, Katie-roo?"
I kicked him. It probably wasn't hard enough to do any
damage but it felt good. I aimed for the ribs and swung as
hard as I could. "No more, Jack. I'm challenging you, asshole.
Tonight one of us is leaving this house."
"Katie-poop. You don't make the rules." His voice was
raspy so Michael might have done some damage. I certainly
hoped so.
"I've had it," I tried to yell. My chest still hurt and my
muscles were barely holding me up. "Do you hear me Satan?
God? Piper? No more games with this monstrosity. One of us
has to leave tonight."
Michael was there to catch me before I fell over. Thank
goodness. I was done with thanking God.
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Chapter 13
If there aren't bathtubs in Heaven, then I ain't going.
After I had issued my challenge, Tino appeared.
"What do you want to do, Kate?" He wrapped a blanket
around my shoulders and I was glad he wasn't playing
professional host. "The game was trying to kill me. I want a
fillet knife and Jack on a cutting board." Jack was sitting a fair
distance away, there had been some sort of communication to
him and he was surly but compliant.
"We can't do that no matter how good it sounds." Tino
gave me a slight smile and I felt better knowing Jack hadn't
made any friends anywhere.
"Name the game, I don't care."
"It was your challenge."
"Then let's make it poker. No cheating. I don't care if its
one hand or one hundred but the loser leaves immediately."
"You might be the loser, Kate."
I looked at Michael, who was standing glaring at Jack. To
leave him would be a special kind of Hell. However, a dead
woman can't fight for what she wants.
"Jack tried to kill me, Tino He's nuts."
"Okay." Tino nodded, he was listening to a conversation
that didn't involve me I could just imagine Piper's frantic
scurrying. "Got it. Yes." Tino turned his attention back to me.
"Okay, tonight. Piper said to give them about an hour to set
up. He got the okay for the poker game."
"Fine. And Satan better stay the hell out of it."
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"Kate, I think Satan is more afraid of you right now than
you are of him." If wishes were bubbles, then that would be
true and we would have had a bigger bathtub. I needed to
escape to the pleasure of steaming water and scented
bubbles to wash away the fear of the evening. I still felt the
tremble of fighting for my life as well as facing the loss of
someone I cared for. Of everything Jack had done, this time I
realized I couldn't take anymore.
I leaned against Michael as he sloshed water over the side
of the tub, over my breasts and probably all over the floor. It
was a terrible fit. Michael was too big for a Human size
bathtub. The two of us were ridiculously cramped and making
a mess, but there we were.
"I might be going home tonight." I watched Michael's
hands scoop water and dribble small streams over my
breasts. My nipples were tight but there was nothing sexual
happening. This night had knocked us both far.
"If you go home I'll find a way to kill Jack. I promise."
"Good." I was leaning against him, my head on the brick
wall that was his chest and I closed my eyes. Michael
splashed more water over me, and I reached up and took his
hands and laid them on my breasts. "I hope you know I don't
want to leave you, but I can't stay here with Jack anymore."
His hands were soft and they lightly squeezed my breasts.
His palms rubbed against my nipples and it felt so good.
Heaven can be found in a flower. Heaven can be found in a
Demon's touch.
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"You're the only one of us who has a life to lose." Michael's
mouth was near my ear, his warm breath sending a shivering
sensation though my body. "But to lose you, Kate..."
"I love you, War Demon. I hate thinking this could be it for
us."
"Even if you leave, it's not the end."
"Michael..."
"Don't say it. Don't."
"Then I won't."
"Whatever happens, Kate, I'll find you. Even if I'm in Hell
and you're here on Earth, I'll find you. I promise, no Gods, no
Angels, no nothing will keep us apart."
It was the most romantic bullshit I'd ever heard, and I
loved it. "I don't think I could ever be with anyone else." The
words slipped out of my mouth, and I was as surprised to be
saying them as I was to know that they were true. "I guess
when you've had the best, you really are spoiled for the rest."
"I think the Gods did us a favor."
I thought of my life before Angel Lane: my job, my
friendships and my loneliness. "Do you think this was fate?"
"In Hell, fate is just another way of saying Satan is
constipated."
"Fate is nothing more than impacted shit. Good to know,
Demon boy."
We dressed in black. It wasn't planned, but Michael and I
both ended up in black t-shirts, me in black jeans and he
wore black shorts. I ran my hand over his legs before we
went downstairs. "You have amazing legs. So strong."
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"Is that what you like best?" Michael asked it honestly, I
don't think he was used to getting compliments.
"Like best how? Physically?" He looked like a shy miss
waiting for her first beau's kiss. "There's nothing I don't like
about you. Your strength, your arms, those tree stumps you
call legs. And your eyes, Michael, I love your eyes. I know
you have a Demon's eyes, but I love them so much."
"Your eyes are beautiful, Kate, and nobody else has them
but you. There's a million of me."
I took a step closer to him and fit my body next to his.
"You could be a Demon, a Human, an Angel. I don't care. I
would have fallen in love with you because of your heart.
Satan might have put the red in your eyes to say you belong
to Hell, but with you Michael, the red shines through to show
your heart. There's only one of you, and I love you, War
Demon."
"I love you too." We shared a sweet and gentle kiss. A kiss
that said we were scared. We might be saying goodbye
tonight, and we weren't prepared. We might never be
prepared for that.
When we got downstairs the first person to greet us was Z.
I flew at him, the last time I had seen him had been in the
pool. "God, Z, oh, dear God."
"You were so brave, Shayna."
I closed my eyes and laid my head against Z's. So much
kindness in him, something the game would never be able to
play out of him. He might be an old fashioned Reb, but he
was as true as they came. God chose well when he chose Z
for his team.
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Z understood what I was feeling, his hand made circles on
my back as I held him and tried to calm myself. I was taking
such a chance, but I couldn't do this any longer without
taking it. I deep breathed my way to a sense of calmness and
finally let go of Z. "Well, let's see how they fucked this up," I
said with a shaky laugh.
I expected the living room would be set up like a faux
casino, complete with cigarette girl-Demons and chattering
dealer-Demons. Instead there was a card table with an
unopened deck of cards sitting in the middle. It looked like
poker night in the suburbs.
Tino was wearing a suit. Jack was already seated at the
table and subdued. Maybe Tino had hit him with a tranquilizer
dart. I took the chair across from Jack.
"We're playing poker," Tino said, "a standard five card
hand, all cards turned down, opening antes. I'll deal so
there's no hanky panky and if there's any cheating, the
cheater will be automatically disqualified and leave the house
immediately."
I leaned over and said quietly, "I gave Michael permission
to use your spine for toothpicks. Try not to fuck with me."
"I thought you were nice, Katie-crap."
"I thought imps were nothing but short clowns, but you're
not even funny."
"Do you want to play or insult each other?"
I looked up at Tino. "I can multi-task, so deal."
Tino sat between us and Z and Michael took seats behind
Tino. I was willing to bet it looked great on camera, a wet
dream for Piper. I didn't care. I was shaking inside; I no
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longer wanted to go home. I wanted to stay with my War
Demon. Let Jack leave the house, and Michael, Z and I could
make a happy little family for a long time. Piper could call us
The New Brady Bunch with Michael and I as the parents, Z as
Alice and we'd get some sock puppets to play the kids. Good
times.
Tino dealt the first hand and I anteed small. I knew how to
play poker but not well enough to be confident. I assumed
imps didn't have weekly games in Hell but with Jack and his
friends, anything was possible. Jack matched my ante and we
both took cards. I was swinging on a pair of eights.
"Want to go swimming later, Katie-hoo-hoo?" Jack grinned
and threw some chips in. "Raise."
Shit. On a pair of eights? "Fold." I tossed my cards on the
table. Jack's horns waggled, the little prick. I swept a quick
glance at Michael, he gave me a thumb's up.
The next hand I had three twos and met Jack's raises. He
played silently and lethally on that one, his full house took the
pot. He almost bounced in his seat when he won.
"I thought you were on my side," I said to Tino.
"We all agreed to no cheating." Tino hid his words behind a
smile. "I'd love to see the weasel split."
"Go pimp your mother," Jack growled.
Tino dealt again, and I had a pair of Kings. "You have
great tits, Katie-boob-a-rama. Your shirt in the pool was see-
through, and I saw through to your boobies."
Jack raised, and I matched him. He called and had
nothing. My first win, and he wasn't grinning.
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I figured it out quickly after that. He covered his bluffs with
trash talk. His good hands were played silently. Still, knowing
that wasn't giving me the advantage I needed. I was getting
a lot more crap cards than Jack. I wanted to blame Satan, but
everyone had agreed to the no cheating clause and there was
no way to prove if Satan was anyway.
I was starting to feel well and truly fucked.
I don't know what Jack had to lose but I knew what I
would if I lost here. Any moment I could spend with Michael
but wasn't would be equal to tragic in my life. I wanted to
stay. I needed to stay.
Jack was kicking my ass.
Desperation doesn't make a great party guest, but that's
where I was stuck. I was losing slowly and unless my luck did
a big turnaround, I was gone. So it was Dame Despair and
not Lady Luck who made the offer.
"Everything on the table. One hand only. Cards dealt
down, you play what you get."
Jack looked at me and smirked. "Meat pie, you are on. And
you are so dead!"
"You sure you want to do this, Kate?" Tino had a shimmer
of sweat on his brow.
My answer was to push all my chips to the center. Jack did
the same, his giggle like fingernails on the blackboard. My
silent prayers were screaming. Tino dealt.
Jack didn't try to pretend nerves. Hs arrogance almost
bragged to the room that he knew he'd win. Like Satan wasn't
already known as a card cheat.
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Jack flipped over his cards slowly. Four of clubs. Four of
hearts. Four of diamonds. Four of spades. Ace of diamonds.
"Read 'em and bleed!" Jack crowed. I heard Z groan, and I
looked over at Michael, I couldn't hide my despair. His face
looked ready to crumple, this was so unfair.
"Kate," Tino said softly, "turn over your cards."
My eyes were slightly unfocused by the sudden moisture
gathering. Turned the first one over. Ten of spades. Jack of
spades. Queen of spades. King of spades. My hands were
shaking too hard to pick up the final card.
"Faith, Shayna."
"You can do it, baby."
"Fucking cunt cheater."
I turned it over. Ace of spades. I exhaled a sob and Jack
howled, his rage larger than he was and I was pushed back
by something I couldn't see. Jack's eyes were glowing bright
red, his horns suddenly growing and curling in. The Demon
that haunted dreams stood where Jack had been, his teeth
sharp and yellow and vicious with blood stains, his hands
elongating into claws. He was feral and foul and glaring
poison at me, his face becoming canine, his intent to rip my
throat out clear as he leaped on the card table, on all fours
and again he howled, turning toward me with a growl...
Then he was gone.
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Chapter 14
I was lying on top of Michael, a protruding penis poking me
nicely while we were playfully biting each other's lips. It was a
beautiful morning, and since Jack's departure from the house,
it was peaceful with no chance of surprises.
"Do you want to make breakfast?"
"Your stomach is more important than me? What do you
do in Hell to eat?"
"You really don't want to know." Michael gave a slight
growl and flipped me onto my back. He didn't quite flip over
on top of me, his bulk didn't allow for much maneuverability.
He trapped me beneath him and the Demonic dingus poked
me in a new place. "I like what you have a lot more anyway."
"So what would you rather eat, me or pancakes?"
"Decisions...decisions..." I punched him in the side, and he
snickered. Is this what it's supposed to be like when you fall
in love? Is the world just naturally better because someone
loves you? Are you a better person for being loved?
I grabbed Michael's head and pulled his face down to mine.
"I love you, even if you are a Demon asshole."
"And I love you, even if you are a weak Human girl."
"Kiss me, Demon."
He did. Nice and hard with the thrusting tongue and slide
of lips and grind of hips and it was beyond what the Gods had
to offer us.
"Downstairs in ten." The voice buzzed both our ears, and I
felt the ecstatic erection wilt. Hearing Piper's voice could cool
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any erotic feelings. Actually, Piper could suck the sun from
the sky, the pleasure from a party and even possibly the
ruddiness from a rod.
"What happens if we ignore it?" But Michael was already
lumbering up, his body blocking the light from the window.
"Let's find out what he wants and then we can come back
and fuck."
Ye Gods, I loved it when Michael sweet talked.
They were waiting for us down at the pool. "Welcome back
to where so many of your challenges have begun." I tried not
to look at Michael or Z, or I might have giggled. Tino could be
completely oblivious, and in this case, worthy of an ass
kicking.
"Are you fucking kidding?" Guess Michael wasn't reading
from the same good contestant handbook.
"National television," Tino whispered harshly.
"Does it look like I care?"
"Shut the holy up and let him continue!" Piper snapped in
our minds.
"It's time for the final challenge."
"Final challenge?" I stepped forward and then stepped
back. Final challenge. An end to living at 666 Angel Lane. The
end of living with Michael and Z. The end to living with
Michael.
Sweet Jesus, at the beginning I would have happily killed
someone to get out of this house, and now the idea of leaving
made me physically ill. I wasn't ready to have this end. I
wasn't ready to say goodbye to Michael. I just couldn't.
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Michael looked grimly at me. We were a matched set of
surprise and despair.
"It's a test of faith." Tino our friend had disappeared and
Tino the host had taken his place. "In the pool are three
platforms, each seven inches by nine inches. You'll balance on
the platforms. The last one standing will be the winner of the
game and decide the fate of Limbo."
We all looked down at our feet, and probably had the same
revelation at the same time: my feet were the smallest and
might easily fit, whereas Michael didn't stand a fucking
chance.
It was so obvious who was being setup to fail.
The platform did fit under both my feet perfectly. As long
as I could stand straight and still, I would probably be the
winner. Z wobbled a little bit but seemed to settle, he threw
me a wink when he caught my glance.
Michael simply didn't fit. He fell in the pool multiple times,
unable to even get on the platform. There was no care given,
he was instructed to try again. I could see the angry set of his
shoulders and the dull red glare of his eyes, he was sure to be
in the chlorinated drink again.
They forgot to take into account Michael was more than
just a War Demon, he was Michael. He climbed up again and
instead of trying to balance as we were, he took the platform
at an angle, balancing almost his entire bulk on one foot, his
other foot tucked to his side like a flamingo standing buff and
bronzed on a small stand in the pool.
"You can do it," I whispered to him.
He nodded, his concentration totally on remaining upright.
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"It's an epic moment." Tino was speaking to the invisible
cameras. I almost wanted to make a face or flash a middle
fingered salute. What a ridiculous situation to be stuck in.
"The Rabbi, playing for God and Heaven. The War Demon
representing Hell and the Dark Lord, and in the middle, the
lone Human woman, straddling Heaven and Hell with the
power to change the universe."
"I got the power to change the universe," I whispered.
"I'm so proud of you, Shayna." Z was bemused, he had no
concerns. "You hokay there Michael?"
"Dandy." The brick wall wasn't planning to crumble; it
might take Tino and a sledgehammer to bring that Demon
down.
"I'm going to miss you, Shayna."
"I'll miss you too, Reb."
We lapsed into silence. Each of us concentrating on
remaining still and lost in our own thoughts.
The sun was up and warm, thankfully the heat of the day
wouldn't be hitting us unless we remained on the platforms
till midday. It was mesmerizing; the wink of the blue water,
the silence around us, the slight glare from the cameras at
the edges of our vision.
What would happen if I stepped off the platform? What if I
let Z and Michael battle it out for their two disparate Gods? I
could have a glass of lemonade and watch.
"So, do you know, Shayna?"
"Know what?"
"What you're going to do."
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Z was looking at me, and I wondered if he had been
reading my mind. "I guess falling in the water is against the
rules?"
"You've broken a lot of the rules already, but nu, falling in
the water isn't the right answer for you."
I looked over at Michael; his features were set in grim
determination, a rivulet of sweat trailed down his face. Gods,
how I wished I could reach out to him. My poor Demon.
"Will I ever see you again, Reb?"
His smile wasn't its usual bright. "I wouldn't be surprised.
Now tell me why am I Reb today? I miss hearing you call me
Z."
"Today's our last day together. I guess I wanted to make
sure you know."
"That I know what, Shayna?"
"How much I respect you." I blinked back sudden tears. "I
think you've been a greater friend than I would have
expected to find here. Thank you, Reb Z."
"Ah, Katie, you make an old Rabbi's heart feel lighter. And
Reb Z might be my new name, I think."
"Choose your own Heavenly identity," I said with a smile.
"We never did talk about names, did we dear? I never told
you those of us who came from Earth come with names and
those tilled from the Lord are named by him."
"So God named Uriel and Satan named Michael?"
"Nu Katie, God named them all."
"God named the Archangel and the Demon."
Z's eyes turned a blue that reflected the sea and the sky,
the mist of rain and the heart of hope. They shone of a light
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that had never been seen by the living, they radiated awe and
love. "God names his Angels, Shayna. Only his Angels." And Z
stepped off his platform.
He was gone. He dropped into the pool and was gone. No
splash, nothing left to even say he'd been there except an
empty platform where he'd been standing.
The surprise made me waver, suddenly off balanced and
my arms windmilled. I heard Michael gasp, but a small breeze
seemed to put a hand on the small of my back and I
straightened, my feet still firmly on the platform.
I looked at Michael and he looked at me, the sweat had
dampened his brow and his hair was plastered to his head.
They weren't going to make it easy for him, but then they
never had, had they? From all I could see, the Archangel and
the Demon were cut from the same cloth. One, however,
lived where love shone and goodness was simply the air he
breathed while the other was cursed for no explanation.
My Demon who faced other Demons and kept Hell safe,
but safe for what? Michael existed to keep Demons like Jack
or Sky safe? It made no sense. Michael had more heart than
anyone I had ever met, he was true and honorable. The
strength of him wasn't just in his size or muscles but in his
character and who he was.
Born just as Angelic as Uriel. A damned Archangel. I
wavered in anger until my own internal voice repeated my
words back to me, a damned Archangel. That's what Z was
telling me.
The pool was clean and the water so perfectly clear. I
would fall into it and probably land sitting in my apartment,
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feet on the coffee table and the television on, back where I
belonged. Maybe Michael, in winning, would win back the
place he deserved. Maybe, finally, his punishment was over.
I looked over at my Demon and knew I was seeing him for
the last time. We weren't going to be offered a forever, but
Michael might get his chance to go where his true home was.
For Michael I could face the wrath of God or Satan to give him
that chance.
My foot came off the platform and my body started to
lean, lean in to take that step into the pure blue water. My
choice was made. I understood and my body sang with love. I
had been told to choose and I chose for Michael. I would take
one step, and it would finally be right.
He didn't make a sound as he fell in. I saw the look of
bewilderment on his face as his body pitched forward, his
eyes crimson in surprise as his body sliced into the pool and
disappeared.
My body was moving also and I fell. Bracing for the water,
I felt the tumble and a turn and I blinked; when my eyes
opened I was sitting on the white couch in the living room,
sitting with Tino, and we were alone.
"Congratulations Kate, you're the winner."
"But..." I was at a loss for words. Did Michael really fall
before I did? After all of this did it really end so unfairly?
Tino shifted uncomfortably. "This must be a lot to take in.
But we have excellent news for you. Because you're the
winner, our sponsors have decided to add prizes—"
"Where did they go?"
He hesitated. "Um, who?"
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"Michael. Z. Where did they go?"
Tino's smile faltered. "I know this has probably come as a
shock to you..."
"Where are they?"
"I don't know." Tino looked nervous and his voice lowered.
"I really don't. Look, they just want to get this filmed. Then
you go home with your prizes, God wins over Satan and life
goes back to normal."
"Life is never going back to normal." I sat up straighter.
"But fine. Do what you have to. The sooner this farce is done,
the better for me."
Tino's professional veneer covered him gain. There was no
fighting Hollywood. "Would you like to hear your prizes,
Kate?"
"Sure. Whatever."
Tino listed, and I didn't listen. The hidden cameras rolled
and the buzz of invisible activity took place. Was I supposed
to be excited about winning some luggage? I tried for a smile
and probably looked like I had gas. Fine. Let's just get this
done.
"So Kate, the real prize of this contest is Limbo. Had one of
our team players won, Limbo would have fallen naturally into
the hands of the Lord that team represented. You, however,
were the wild card, playing for yourself, representing the
Human race. Now it's in your hands that the fate of Limbo
lies."
"Let Lucifer have it, it matters more to him than anyone
else."
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Tino's bright smile disappeared and the buzz in my head
became a dull roar. "Kate, maybe you need some time to
think..."
"I don't think God wants it, Tino." Ye Gods, I was hungry
and tired. "Satan needs it more. And Team Human Race
seems to want to rush to the fire so to make sure they have
room for their eternal damnation, Limbo goes to Satan. Can I
get a sandwich now?"
That simply, the game was over.
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Chapter 15
As hard as it was to believe, it really was over. The hazy
light at the edges of my vision disappeared; the cameramen
went back to whatever realm had a cutting room where they
could finish the job in peace. The buzzing in my ears was
gone. The house was quiet.
I left Tino in the living room and went to the kitchen. I
really was hungry. After I ate something, I'd figure out what
happened next. Somebody was sure to get me home, I had
new luggage for my old clothes now. Pam would pick me up
at the airport and take me home. She'd probably also hold me
as I cried.
The pain stopped my steps. I stood in the hallway, a hand
out holding the wall, and I was bent over, hoping not to puke,
hoping not to howl. It was done, Michael was gone and I was
the biggest loser to ever be born.
I was locked into place, sorrow sluicing through me. I tried
not to think of his eyes, his hands, his mouth. I tried not to
think about never being held by him again, never holding
him, never loving him.
If I played the game right then maybe he stood a chance
in his world to be given another chance. If I was wrong, then
Satan got Limbo and Michael and probably me, when my end
came. I played a game and didn't know what I'd won.
It took effort to shake myself out of that moment. I could
have remained locked in sadness forever. I slowly
straightened and took some deep breaths. If I was going to
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be miserable then I was going to be miserable but I'd be
damned if the world would see me that way.
Going into the kitchen, I almost jumped when I saw Piper
sitting at the counter, a Perrier in front of him. "What the hell
are you doing here?"
"Kate, good to see you. Congrats on the win."
Whatever. I ignored him and walked to the fridge. I was
thinking sandwich. Maybe something with a lot of meat and a
lot of veggies might fill my belly so I'd ignore the emptiness
in my heart.
I had wondered if I'd find the amazing fridge empty but
was glad to see it was still stuffed with food. I started taking
out ingredients.
"Look Kate, this might not have been great at first, but it
sure worked out well for you." I ignored Piper. I had turkey,
tomato and cheese. I needed more. I went rooting back
inside. "You're almost a household name. Once Sherry was
gone, you were the most popular girl on the show."
I didn't listen. Piper didn't seem to care if he was listened
to or not, his words kept coming. He kept talking, I kept
expanding sandwich ingredients.
"So the thing is, I have a job offer for you."
Maybe I should have been listening to him. "What kind of
job?"
Piper looked smug. "It's a new game show called Go To
Hell. The network has already given it a time slot and they
want you as host."
"Host a game show? I'm not a game show host. Ask Tino.
He's your hosting man."
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"They want you, Kate." Piper shot his cuff and I swear
whatever that was on his wrist looked expensive, ridiculous
and ridiculously expensive.
"I guess this has all been good for you then." I got the
bread from the box and
took two slices. "Well, thanks but no thanks. I think I'm
done with television, and I know I'm done with you."
"Don't be hasty. There's good money and a good future.
Satan himself has agreed to the show. We'd have a sinner
who recently died and we'd let the studio audience vote on
whether or not the contestant goes to Hell."
"So does God agree to take the ones who are voted out of
Hell?"
Piper froze. "Oh, shit." He pulled a cellphone out of a
jacket pocket and began to frantically dial. I rolled my eyes,
some things never change and idiocy is always among them.
I sliced tomatoes and placed a few slices on the bread.
Laid cheese over that and thought some onion would be good.
I went back to the fridge as Piper nervously chewed his lip,
cellphone at his ear. I picked up an onion and a cucumber.
Might as well go all out. Closed the fridge door and Piper was
gone, left to darker pastures. Unfortunately, Sherry was
sitting in his place.
"Hello, Kate. Miss me?"
My stomach did a plummet. Seeing Sherry was definitely a
downer. I turned my back on her and went back to my
sandwich. "Well, I guess that means you didn't. That's okay. I
really haven't missed you either."
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I had nothing to say to that and Sherry was suddenly
quiet. Whatever she was here for probably wasn't meant to
be started off with hostility. I sliced some thin cucumber
slices. Popped one in my mouth and enjoyed the chew.
Nothing is quite as sweetly bland as a cucumber.
I sneaked a look over at Sherry, and she was still there.
Her eyes were closed and she was still, a Sherry statue. I
would have preferred her as a wax statue. I ignored her and
walked over to the cupboard to get myself a plate.
"Okay, here's the thing." Damn, she was talking again.
"Nobody expected you to give Limbo to our Lord—"
"Not my Lord, thank you very much." I thought about
hitting her with my plate but decided I'd rather have the
sandwich on it. Not to mention, Sherry's head was empty
enough to not notice.
"Not your Lord, fine. Anyway, you gave Lucifer Limbo, and
he wants to give you something in return."
"How about never having to see any of you again?"
"Any of us?" Sherry smirked. "I think there's someone
you'd like to see again."
She deserved the plate over her head, the knife in her
back and while I was at it, I'd stick the cucumber up her ass
for good measure
"Yup, I sure do miss Z. So, how's Hell?"
"Crawling with sexy War Demons." Sherry's voice was a
purr. "Now that you've shown them what they're missing,
those horny old buggers can't keep away from us lucky girls.
You'd never guess who's leading their parade."
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"Shove it, Scheherazade, I'm not that stupid. And any man
willing to fuck you would have to be a Demon."
Sherry was on her feet and I faced her, knife in hand. She
glared and I glared back. Then she shrugged her shoulders. "I
told him I wasn't a good choice for a messenger. You hate
me. I hate you. Can I have a sandwich too?"
Fuck, that woman was impossible. I'd bet she gave Lucifer
a headache. "Go away, Sherry. You lost. I won the game and
I lost. We're all losers. And I am not making you a sandwich."
I turned away from her and began to slice an onion. The
onion slivers went on top of the cucumber. Then a few slices
of turkey. Now it needed mayonnaise. I was almost afraid to
turn around to get it for fear of who might be standing there
when I did.
I turned back to the fridge and the fridge was no longer
there.
Nothing was there. I was no longer in the kitchen; I was
no longer on this Earth. I was standing in the middle of
nowhere, in the middle of nothing.
"So, we finally meet." The voice came from nowhere and
everywhere. If I had ever been scared before in my life, it
didn't even touch the fear of this moment. My bowels
cramped, my body was icy and covered in sweat. My heart
didn't know if it should stop beating or speed up.
Satan looked like Joe Pesci, the actor. He stepped out in
front of me, and the incongruity of it left me speechless. He
was short, his face was tough guy, and yes, he was wearing a
brown suit. If he was anybody but Satan, I would have
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relaxed in the silliness of the moment. Instead I tried not to
void my bowels where I stood.
"I'm not here as an enemy, Kate. In fact, I'm here to
thank you."
He stopped and looked at me. I knew he expected me to
say something, but what does one say to the Devil?
"You're welcome, sir."
He chuckled. It wasn't a warm or friendly sound. I wanted
to throw up. I was standing in a pocket of gray, facing the
scariest entity to ever exist; I also had just finished having
my entire life turned upside down for a nation's viewing
pleasure. There's nothing like getting kicked in the teeth to
realize that you no longer care about being careful. I wasn't
crazy enough to tell Satan to fuck himself, but I wasn't caring
enough to continue to pretend politeness.
"You pulled me away from my lunch. Why?"
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and I noticed something
interesting: he had brown eyes. No red at all. "Sassy made
great TV, it doesn't make great points here." He stepped
closer to me and the slight scent of fire clung to him, as well
as...was that Old Spice cologne?
"What do you want from me now? I'm sorry, but I'm
scared, I'm hungry and my life is broken. Do you expect more
from me?"
"I'm here to give, not to take."
"No, thank you. Can I go back now?"
"Kate, you disappoint me." He took a step closer, and I
couldn't help but take a step back. "All that time I was trying
to get you out of the game and look at you, you defeated my
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players and gave me what I wanted anyway. You were the
ultimate wild card. But you came through for me, and I want
to pay you back."
"No offense, sir, but payback from the Devil probably isn't
wise."
"What if I'm offering you Michael?"
The world shifted and I fell.
I was back in the kitchen, but sitting at the counter. My
sandwich in front of me, perfectly made and cut in half. A
spray of grapes sat on the plate next to it, a diet soda and
napkin on the table. The Lord of Lies sat across from me
eating corned beef, but it might have been pickled Protestant,
I have no idea. It was like sharing a lunch with your worst
nightmare in the most banal way.
"Eat," Satan said around a mouthful of corned beef. The
strangest thing was I did. "So," he said.
"So." My sandwich was delicious and somehow, the act of
eating made things more normal. Sitting in the kitchen with
Satan. Lunch with Lucifer. There were some ideas for Piper.
Win a Date with Lucifer. Devilish Dream Date.
"You're not going to ask, are you?"
I placed the remnant of my sandwich down on the plate
and then wiped my mouth slowly. As homey as this appeared,
it was still the most dangerous moment in my life.
"You mentioned Michael," I said casually.
"Yes, I did." Satan looked almost fey, the way he sat
almost tucked in on himself. "A little gift for my winner."
"I get Michael with a bow on top?" I should have been
turning cartwheels; just the idea of having Michael back...but
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this was the Devil. Nothing came without complications and
the Devil wasn't known for being nice.
He shrugged. "Hell doesn't usually gift wrap."
"Satan isn't known for giving freebies either."
"Touche, Kate. Let's just call it a loaner. You agree and
Michael returns and spends the rest of your life with you.
When your eternal fate is sealed, Michael returns to Hell."
"My eternal fate would be sealed by doing a deal with you,
wouldn't it? Two for the price of one?"
"Nobody ever believes I can be compassionate." He gave a
sigh. I kept my face expressionless. "What if I promised your
eternity wouldn't be based on this?"
And there's a bridge in Brooklyn, a swamp in Florida...
"Does Michael have any say?"
"You know he chooses you, Kate."
Wanting Michael was a physical need worse than anything
I ever felt before. I knew how a crack addict felt; Michael
being my drug of choice.
Michael would choose me. I could say yes and have
Michael back. I could say yes and know a deal with the Devil
is always a losing deal. I could say yes and probably lose my
soul.
I could say yes, but could I say no? Could I say no to
Michael? Would I be able to make a choice like that and not
spend my life living in regret?
I smiled as much as a grimace could be called a smile.
"Not that I doubt you, but let's bring Michael here and ask
him."
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Satan's smile disappeared. The Lord of Lies looked like the
Lord of Cunning. How could I tell? He looked innocent. "That
won't be possible. Let's just take my word for it."
"See that's where we have our problem." I pulled a grape
off its stem and rolled it between my fingers. "I'd love to take
you up on your offer, but I need to have Michael tell me."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"Of course not. I'm just being cautious."
"Don't be impertinent. You can save the Demon and still go
to Heaven when your time comes. Otherwise, you never know
what could happen in the far reaches of Hell to Demons with
cautious girlfriends."
It never makes a sound when the other shoe drops. Do as
Satan wants or Michael will pay for it in the end.
"Is there anything good in Hell?"
Michael laughed. I was floating on an inner tube in the
pool, and he was sitting on the diving board, which amazingly
took his weight without cracking like a toothpick.
"Hell has nothing good. Unless you get off on pain and
suffering. Then it's a damned carnival."
"How do you survive it?"
He fell into the pool, splashing me and most of the
surrounding area. He came up, his face full of laughter.
"I've got you here and now. We survive by surviving."
Michael would forgive me if I screwed up. But I would
never forgive myself.
"No, thank you."
The temperature in the kitchen rose. Someone was about
to have a temper tantrum. I ate my grapes and waited.
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"I don't like being told no."
"I don't like threats. So we're even."
"Do you know who you're playing with, Kate?"
I looked at him, the Joe Pesci look-alike, the scariest and
most dangerous entity ever and I couldn't stop it. I laughed.
A person shouldn't laugh at Satan but when hysteria takes
over, hysteria makes the decisions. I completely lost it. I was
doubled over, giggles and guffaws exploding from me as my
stomach cramped and my body sweltered in Satan's heat.
The heat expanded, the room growing smaller as the
temperature rose.
"Art thou well, Kate?"
I sank back in the sofa cushions and saw Uriel, not as I
had last seen him as the seven- foot Archangel, but just in
the white khakis and white button-down shirt, his blue eyes
soft and his expression welcoming.
"Oh, crap." I looked around; I was in the living room with
the temperature moderate. "You're going to spoil me for
public transportation after this." Of course, he had no idea
what I was talking about. "So is he gone?"
"Lucifer? Yea, he hath tempted and failed. Ye did well and
proved worthy of thy Lord's belief in thee."
"God's belief in me?" I wasn't going to let the hysteria
overtake me again. "I gave Limbo to Satan. I fell in love with
a Demon. God has a weird fucking belief system."
"Didst thou believe God wanted thee to do anything
different than that which ye did?"
"That sentence hurt my head, Uriel. Can you cut to the
chase?"
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
225
Uriel pointed at the television set that hadn't been there
before. "Thou hast been the fodder of entertainment for
masses, now thy Lord wishes you to watch."
"Can you zap in a soda for me?" Uriel ignored me and the
television sizzled to life.
"Oh, fuck me." Michael was on the television screen,
standing in the same gray nothing I had been earlier with
Satan. He was standing still, he looked calm and glorious and
my heart hurt looking at him. "Where is he?"
"That be Limbo Kate, that for which the Lords fought."
"I was there with Satan. Was Michael there too?"
"Michael has been in Limbo since the game doth end."
I looked back at the screen, Michael hadn't moved. His
calm seemed unearthly, as I supposed it truly was. As we
watched, the edges of the gray lightened, light slowly taking
over the space until Michael was standing in the middle of the
rays. He was lit from the bright lights and was even more
spectacular than ever.
When the voice came it was from everywhere and
nowhere. It was the voice that tells us we are loved, that can
light the greatest darkness the soul encounters. It was the
everything and the only thing.
"Thou must choose thy way Demon. Dost thou know thy
choices?"
"I choose Earth, Lord."
"There art no guarantees of thy afterlife. Satan may still
makest his claims."
"I understand. And I want to go back to the earth. To her.
Please."
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
226
"Thou pleaseth me Michael. And it is done."
I was out of that moment and back with Uriel. "Was that
real? Is he really?"
"Thou hast been a fine friend to me, Kate. I thank thee."
I blinked back sudden tears. "I certainly travel in
interesting circles. Thank you, Archangel."
He was gone in an eye blink, and I was alone. Was there
at all a possibility? Could I believe what I was hoping?
I got up and looked around. Alone. So very alone.
He wasn't in the bedroom we had shared, nor any of the
others. The living room remained empty, and as I walked to
the kitchen my heart was hammering in my chest. It was
empty also and my disappointment was overwhelming. Had I
misunderstood? Was I supposed to go back to my old life and
somehow spend the rest of my life looking into crowds hoping
to catch a glimpse of the only man I ever wanted to be with?
The door to the back was open and I didn't remember it
being open before. Hope hummed through me as I exited and
walked as quickly as possible to the pool.
The diving board still held his bulk without splintering. He
saw me approaching and he waited, his face somber and
expectant.
"Michael?"
"Hey, baby." He smiled slowly. "I got an offer I didn't want
to refuse. Want to guess what it was?"
"Satan lied." I felt it like a block of ice melting from me.
"You never went back to Hell."
"No, I didn't."
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
227
From the beginning, I had been told to choose. For Limbo
or for the Lord or Satan. I had been asked to decide Michael's
eternity and my own. So many choices and all of them
condensed to this one moment, of selecting love over all.
"Kate," Michael said softly, "I chose you over Heaven and
over Hell. I choose you, Kate. But it means nothing if you
don't want me."
"Oh God." Tears gathered but finally they were tears of
happiness. "I do. Ye Gods, I do."
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes." My heart was full.
"Well, why are you way over there and not here in my
arms?"
I almost flew to where he was, over the diving board and
clasped in his arms, against his chest. I was home. He was
home. We won the game.
The diving board creaked under our combined weight,
finally giving up its fight and allowing the overwhelmed part
of it to break off and fall down into the blue water. My arms
tightened around him as I saw the joy in Michael's blue eyes,
and I sent a silent prayer of thanks to God.
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
228
About Lori Green
www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?mainpage=authors&au
thorsid=160
When Lori Green sits down to write, she usually has a
Buffy rerun on in the background and a cat claiming her
computer for a napping place. The chaos of children, pets and
laughter, as well as ass kicking heroines, lends itself to a wild
imagination that believes love knows no boundaries and
happiness is an everyday occurrence.
Lori's wish is to bring all the aspects of great living into the
worlds she writes: food, laughter, knock knock jokes, sex
with dangerously devilish men and an acknowledgement of
the miracles and wonder that surround us daily.
She'd love to hear from you and especially if you know any
great knock knock jokes.
Reader eMail:
LoriSusanGreen@comcast.net
666 Angel Lane
by Lori Green
229
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