Angelic Avenger (2 page)

I don’t think I was really surprised to see Gavreel standing at the other end of my cosmic train ride with the perpetual frown on his face. Falling in beside him, I shook my head. I’m average. Comfortably average, in fact. I stand five six and can only be grateful my fit of depression that led up to me jumping off that bridge into the Chattahoochee River had cured me of my yo-yo weight issues while I had been on the downside. The best thing about not being alive anymore is no more diets. I had the body that I died in. Even so, I looked up at the towering angel and held up my hands defensively.

“Don’t even look at me that way.” I shook my head emphatically. “I didn’t have a choice. He’s the one who went for exposure rather than conversation. Law is law. I didn’t have a choice, so whatever cosmic destiny he toyed with isn’t my fault.”

“You were supposed to talk to him, not take his head.”

There was something about my boss that always made me think he should be the poster boy for the angelic propaganda experts. He spoke in a low bass that made shivers run up a woman’s spine and looked like the Adonis of legend. It would be very easy to imagine him standing wrapped in clouds with his wings flowing behind him and a golden trumpet in one hand and a flaming sword in another. Personally, I’d never seen those famous magical swords, but I wouldn’t put it past them to be holding out the big guns on me. They seemed to like doing that these days.

“I know, but why don’t you ask yourself why you sent a known avenger to deliver the invitation to come chat with the Council of Angels?” If my tone was a little sharp, I didn’t apologize. Under the circumstances, I felt I had a right to be a bit snippy.

He glowered down at me and I shrugged as I marched up to the ‘gates’. This is the lowest tier of heaven which coincidentally mingles with the highest level of Hell. Trust me when I say that it’s not all white and pearly like the legends say. It looks a lot like a good, old-fashioned courthouse anywhere in the South, if you overlook the marble floors and gold inlay around the doorways. All around me, people were strolling about doing their jobs, some in groups, some alone. There were no robes and wings, conservative suits were by far the norm. A few looked like they’d been snatched from Brooks Brothers or worse, Italian designers. They looked frightfully like lawyers, so they fit the scenery. No one said angels had to have cheap tastes. I suppose immortality leads to an appreciation of the finer things. The hum of angelic voices, just so you know, was actually the drone of conversation. There wasn’t any singing going on as the cosmic negotiations commenced in private chambers behind nondescript doors.

I’d been here enough not to even blink at the giants that opened the large doors of the courtroom for me. They’d changed the guard to a pair I didn’t recognize, but the faces still possessed the ageless calm I’d come to expect from the lower level residents. All angels were pretty, but the lower levels weren’t as perfect as the higher ones. I’d come to appreciate the slight imperfections that made them more personable than their higher-ranking peers. I winked at the dark one as I strolled in and he was new enough to hesitate, earning a glare from Gavreel.

“Be nice,” I chastised with an irritated glance up. I swear these giants were enough to give anyone a complex. He opened his mouth to say something I was sure would be scathing, but snapped it shut with the effort curling his mouth tightly. I would have ribbed him a bit about giving in so easily, but the piercing blue eyes of Saint Peter caught me.

“Hiya, Pete…Marty.” I yawned to cover up the shiver he always caused. There’s something about knowing that the golden-haired angel in front of me could see the shadow of my soul and recite every mischief I’d ever wrought. It was such a disconcerting feeling that I nearly missed the glower from the dark man who was standing behind Hell’s bench.

“You’re not Marty.” I blinked and put my hands on my hips. “Just who the hell are you?”

I narrowed my eyes on him and cocked my head as black wings with the bluish sheen of raven’s wings unfurled behind him, each feather tipped thick with gold. The color matched his hair, I couldn’t help but think as his dark-eyed stare tried to pin me. The decades of standing before Pete came in handy as I met his glare. I felt Gav’s amusement and knew he and Pete were sharing a private joke at my expense.

“Martin—” the silky voice purred, “—was a temporary replacement. You—” he sniffed disdainfully, “—are being disrespectful to your betters. That is not wise.”

Only an angel would call over twenty years ‘temporary’.

“Okay—” I shrugged as I let my gaze flip over to Peter and saw his face carefully devoid of expression. Only his eyes were kind, which let me see his amusement. Oh yeah, it was definitely a set-up and I’d walked straight into it, “—I ask again, who the hell are you?”

“I am Lucifer.”

Oh.

Well, hell. No pun intended, of course.

Suddenly, I understood his indignation at the lack of bowing and scraping. Oh well, might as well start as you mean to go on, I always say.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.” I grinned as I walked up between them and cut off whatever he might want to snarl at me by dumping the soul I had carried up for judgment out onto the space provided.

Okay, I
tried
to dump Evan out for them to judge, anyway. Evan, true to the form of the evening, didn’t want to go anywhere. I really hated the stubborn ones. Because I still clung to my mortal coil, as the angels liked to put it, and I had enough humanity left for him to cling to, preventing the forceful ejection I was working for.

“A little help here, please,” I muttered through gritted teeth and refused to look at the smug look on Lucifer’s face as Gavreel reached in and ripped the soul out to toss it onto the floor before the judges.

Evan landed on his knees about the same time mine hit the marble. My vision swam, but I refused to scream. Having a soul ripped from your body hurts, even if it’s not your own. I suppose that would hurt worse, now that I think about it. The abstraction of the thought helped me to distance myself from the pain that was quickly fading. Gav’s hand came back to rest on my shoulder, absorbing some of it into himself. Gavreel, for all of his temper tantrums and ultimatums, wasn’t a bad sort, for an avenging angel persona.

For good measure, I stayed on the floor a moment to let my vision clear. Low and behold, Evan crouched before me in his halfman form. It always fascinated me about shifters. Some reverted to the form they died in while others reverted to their natural form, be it human or animal. Evan, I suppose, was going out with a bang on all counts concerned. I stood up and sighed, only to blink as the third door opened behind him. Apparently, Evan was a better man than I’d thought he was.

Zachiel strolled out with a wide smile. Unlike most angels, he wasn’t light or dark by coloring or cosmic orientation, but a stunning redhead the way a redhead should be. He presided over the nice little den where souls rested while they were awaiting rebirth. Unlike his partners, he didn’t have a bench here because most souls destined for rebirth ascended directly to him without the aid of a Reaper.

“Arabella.” He greeted me with a sweeping turn of his head. “You’re looking lovely, as always.”

“Zack.” I smiled even as the other three angels in the room turned to glower at Zachiel’s charm. “Can I talk to your soul before you take him home?”

“For you, darling—” his voice was singing beauty that made me shiver for a whole different reason than the other angels in the room, “—anything.”

“A girl can wish,” I muttered, and shrugged when the three glares of the other angels angled my way. “Hey, come on. I may be dead, but I’m not buried.”

Zachiel and I shared a smile as I stepped forward and knelt beside Evan.

“Talk to me, Evan.” I smiled encouragingly and tried to look harmless. I was pretty good at it, usually. Unfortunately, I guess he knew better than to believe it. “I can make the difference here. You see, this is the Archangel Zachiel. He’s here to take you to Purgatory. That means you’ll be reborn. Think about the harm that you ever did anyone in life and know the next time around, you’ll get it back on you in triplicate. Come clean. It could tip the scales one way or the other. Trust me when I say eternal rest over rebirth is a much better option.”

“You’ll have to wonder.” He snarled at me, but I could see the fear in his eyes. It made me wonder what he was so afraid of. Obviously, it wasn’t me, anymore. You can’t fear what may kill you once the deed was done, after all. “I’ll take my fate as I’ve earned it.”

He stood up as if surprised that his feet would hold him and took a tentative step toward the third door. Zachiel smiled at me over his head, his mirth spilling out of his green eyes even as he raised a brow at me. I had the grace not to fight the sheepish blush that crept up my face.

I’m sadistic enough to push an edge when I think I have one to get the job done. The angels in the room cannot lie. Literally. I’m not so unfortunate. I don’t have to tell the whole truth or even a partial truth. In this case, what I’d neglected to mention was that all the good Evan had done would also be reaped on his soul threefold in his new life as well.

“Well hell,” I muttered as I stood up. “That didn’t work.”

Zachiel blew me a kiss as he closed the door behind him and Evan, leaving me alone with the three glowering angels.

“Why do you put up with her impertinence?” Lucifer demanded as if I wasn’t standing right there.

“You’ll find—” Peter paused and looked down at his book as he scribbled a note with a pen he was suddenly holding, “—that she is—” he hesitated again without looking up and I knew I was dismissed for all practical purposes, “—refreshing. She grows on you after a bit because she doesn’t exactly bend to the rules.”

The higher two angels no longer cared if I was there or not, so Gavreel gently touched my shoulder. With a quiet turn, I found myself out of the judgment chamber and into the foyer. It always disoriented me to be kicked out that way. The only thing that kept my feet moving was Gavreel’s hand on my shoulder.

“A ride home?”

Like all the other Reapers, I was encouraged to stay out of the mortal world when I wasn’t working. I ignored the suggestion and they had yet to force the issue. Someday, I supposed they would, but it wouldn’t be today. Normally, he walked me out of the sacred halls before providing my cosmic train to my apartment. Today, we went from the outer hall to outside in a heartbeat. He didn’t even try to argue as he waved his hand and my transporting shaft of moonlight appeared in front of me.

“Thanks, Gav.”

I turned to say something to him, but found myself alone. I knew he was still there because the ride was waiting, but he’d just taken himself out of my sight. I rolled my eyes. He always hated the way Zack flirted. With a sigh, I stepped into the moonlight and found myself standing in my bedroom, which made me blink. I usually ended up in the living room, but decided not to knock it today as I let myself fall across the soft cotton comforter.

Having a soul ripped out of you to end your day was the icing that made it a truly bad day, and that always meant it was wiser to go to bed early. So I did.

Chapter Two

I knew before I opened my eyes that I was not alone. First, my bedroom smelled like wild flowers. Second, there were birds singing. Ordinarily, this is a great start to the day, if it’s not November and you don’t live on the twenty-first floor of a twenty-five story apartment complex without a balcony. Somewhere, someone was having a lot of fun with that little numerical joke against me. I’d let it go without comment because it meant I had a home with normal people around me.

I rolled over and opened my eyes, only to groan and throw an arm over them.

“Clothes,” I demanded to the very naked Orifiel perched on the edge of my dresser. “No naked men before breakfast.”

“And to think—” he sighed dramatically, but I sensed no movement from his direction, “—there are those among us that she enjoys beholding.”

“Orifiel.” I shook my head, not about to let him tease me into opening my eyes. “It’s just mean to tease a woman with what she can’t have.”

“Who says you can’t have it, sweet beauty?” His voice had dropped a register into a purr, where laughter ran like a current underneath it.

“Easy—” I yawned, “—me.”

“You break my heart.”

“Right. I’m sure there’s someone who’s dying to patch it up again.”

“Well—” he kept up his drama act with another sigh, but what got my attention was the acute loss of the laughter in his voice, “—there is the sweetest little songbird.”

I knew from his tone it wasn’t the avian kind that he’d popped in from some forgotten rain forest to put me in a malleable mood. Orifiel was the angel who typically guarded forested places. He was a very earthy angel.

“No.” I sighed and rolled over, snuggling back into my pillows. “I’m not running around doing that stuff anymore. You had your shot before I lost my novice status.”

After my induction phase, I’d been allowed to return to Earth. No one had really explained the rules well in what, or rather, whom, I was required to work for when I wasn’t running around doing the Grim Reaper duty. As a result, for about a year, I ran around doing all sorts of errands until Gavreel finally put a stop to it. In retrospect, it was an initiation. I had made more than my fair share of friends among the earthbound angels and watchers for both sides of the fence as well as a few of the ascended sort who were trying to be sneaky. I could still be counted on to ride to the rescue if the cause was convincing enough, which certainly helped my case, too.

“She sings in this marvelous blues place.” He acted like he’d not heard me. For all I knew, he might not have. Orifiel was known for letting himself get distracted and nothing would distract him more thoroughly than a woman with the voice of an angel, no pun intended. “She has the most divine voice. She has a beau, of course, but he has nefarious intentions. I just need you to talk to her.”

“No.”

It lacked the conviction of three minutes ago. I heard it and so did he.