Beelzebub Girl (2 page)

Theo smiled bitterly.

"Why are you here?" I whispered.

She averted her gaze to stare at a large fissure in the ground. "I hurt someone very bad."

The pictures didn't come, so she was blocking them out of her memory. That wasn't the way Distros worked, meaning it was only a matter of time before they returned to haunt her.

"I just wish I could warn my sister," Theo continued.

"Why?"

She peered up from the ground, her blue gaze meeting mine.

Her memories started flooding my mind. "Because she's dating his brother," Theo whispered.

Tremors ran up and down my spine as more images flashed before my open eyes. A sense of sadness grabbed hold of me, drawing me deep into a drowning pool of sorrow and regret. This was why angels weren't supposed to get too close to humans. We were too sensitive for our own good, enjoying celebration to excess, and killing ourselves over the melancholy in mortals.

I rose, pushing up on my arms to steady my shaking knees. My seventeen-year-old body felt aged by decades, my soul wounded, just like Theo's. It wasn't right that she be here, and yet it was because she took someone's life.

"I have to go." My hand reached out for her, stroking the almost white blonde hair.

"That's okay." She smiled, her lips trembled. Her eyes glazed over like a veil covering a window, hiding her very soul. She was in pain and lost in her past again. "Goodbye, Sofia. We shall meet again when you're dead, just like me."

Her sister's name was Sofia. The knowledge made me walk away briskly, the cold wind clearing my head a little. Twelve years ago, Mum had become friends with a Distros ghost, right before she left to resume her position as a seraph in heaven. One day she just disappeared because the pain became so strong she couldn't live here with Dad and me any more.

If Dad found out I conversed with one of the souls, I'd be in major trouble. Think locking me up for the next ten years or, even worse, cancel my credit card. My meagre Skylife wage wasn't nearly enough to cover my apartment costs. I knew I must forget Theo because there was nothing I could do for her. Once she did her time, she'd be welcomed into heaven. The knowledge consoled me for all of five minutes during which I took a shower and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. Then the feeling of something not quite being right returned again.

I arrived at my tiny cubicle with five minutes to spare during which I prepared to do what I always did: lean back and enjoy the atmosphere. Lines were ringing. Heads were nodding, eyes rolling; bored voices assured frustrated customers their orders would dispatch soon, and refunds would be issued within a week upon an item's return. No place offered more constant and diverse drama than the Skylife head quarters, where the customer service department was based. As part fallen angel, I thrived on chaos. It was better than chocolate.

The clock on my computer showed a minute to go. I smiled, soaking up the frayed nerves and the contained voices threatening to rise any minute.

"Cass? Are you all right? You look a bit flushed." It was my supervisor, Rick—a short, bald man in his mid-forties who hated his job but knew how to suck up so no one found out. Unfortunately, I did because I could read his mind.

I smirked. "You try coming from one hundred plus degrees to this. All that heat and steam—"

Rick nodded. "You went to a spa? I wish I could afford it. I've heard sauna's great for tension and stress relief."

If I told him I lived in hell, he'd fire me for being as loony as an apple in a banana tree. "Yeah, that's the ticket," I said. "A little R&R.

My minute's up." I put on my headphones, signalling him our conversation was over. I was ready to answer my first call.

Rick shot me a doubtful look before he disappeared around the corner, counting the hours until he could return home to his lager and TV. The constant reminder in his mind drove me nuts.

"Skylife customer service. Cassandra speaking. How may I help you today?" My voice sounded confident and forthcoming; I'd repeated it so many times Dad said I recited it in my sleep.

"Listen, I'm enquiring about an order which should've been here a week ago. Where the heck is it?"

The guy sounded pissed off, irritation dripping from his deep voice. Somehow he seemed familiar, and yet I didn't pay attention as thick waves of pleasure washed over me. The promise of imminent drama made my skin tingle. For a second I felt guilty, then I just shrugged it off. It wasn't my fault my dad's DNA coursed through my veins. I smiled and took his order number, my fingers gliding over the computer keyboard effortlessly. "Let me just check for you. Customer satisfaction is our priority." It was all a lie we were supposed to tell; the company only cared about the cash and profit margins. "Ah, here it is, sir. You ordered a few security items." Five cameras, sensors, movement detectors and mace—was he trying to fortify a bank? I cleared my throat and resumed my chirpy chatter. "The parcel was dispatched last Tuesday and should be with you shortly."

A pause on the line, then, "Ain't good enough, Mary Poppins. I need it now, otherwise I want my money back."

"I can assure you it will arrive within the stated delivery estimate. If not, we're more than happy to refund your payment. Now, have you visited our website lately? We have many items discounted up to fifty per cent."

He snorted. "I doubt I'll be ordering anything else soon since you can't seem able to deliver one parcel."

Someone was grumpy today. I smiled. "Of course, sir. I understand your concern. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Is the parcel sitting right here in my hands? No. It isn't. You haven't exactly helped. And your chirpy voice has made my headache worse," the guy said.

Boring. Hang up. This guy has LOSER written across his
forehead.

Listening to several voices speaking at the same time was hard work. I groaned, wishing I could shoo away the tiny devil, Kinky, dressed in a black robe and sitting on my left shoulder, like an annoying fly. Ever since separating, my parents had adopted the habit of demonstrating their parental love by trying to outdo each other. It all started with Mum gifting me a little personal angel, Pinky, dressed in loose shorts that looked like diapers with a golden halo casting a glow over his blonde locks. Pinky took the place on my right shoulder and was supposed to teach me proper etiquette when Mum wasn't around. Of course Dad had to throw in a tiny devil by the name of Kinky, a personal demon with a beautiful face, dark eyes and hair as black as coal. Needless to say, Kinky was all that social etiquette wasn't about.

"Your parcel will arrive soon," I said, my focus returning to my customer. "As part of our endeavour to provide the best customer service in the world we offer our valued customers the possibility to rate the representative. From one to ten, how would you rate my service?" I made it sound like it was no biggie, but inside my head I was shaking and chanting,
Please, say ten, or else I won't be
appraised advisor of the month.

"Just get the parcel to me." The line disconnected.

I gulped, a hot flush washing over me as I peered around to make sure no one was listening. A dissatisfied customer wasn't exactly a sign of competence. Hopefully, my boss didn't record the call.

"Thank you for calling Skylife. Have a lovely day," I whispered.

That was the risk of working in customer service, not being able to avoid the usual jerks. Fortunately for them, I had the patience of a saint, which came from my mother's side of the family.

The next few callers were more cooperative. Before I knew it, it was time for my lunch break. I headed for the nearest café to get a grand latte and a chocolate croissant, then returned to my desk and devoured the hot pastry, washing it down with the sickeningly sweet drink as listened to the chatting voices around me. My half hour was barely over when my line rang again.

"Skylife customer service. Cassandra speaking. How may I help you?" I took a last sip of my coffee and almost spit it over my keyboard at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Any updates on my parcel yet?" There were more than a dozen other operators in this room. How the heck did he get directed to me?

"It's been only a few hours, sir. Please wait until tomorrow. I'm sure the post will deliver it first thing in the morning."

"Are you talking facts or are you just making an assumption?"

"I—" My eyes darted about, taking in the tiny desk littered with pens and loose sheets, as I considered whether to lie. If I told the truth, he'd never rate me a ten. "Someone told me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "You have the inside scoop from the dispatch department."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"Come on, tell me what you know. Where is it? Is someone making this hard on me on purpose?"

What gave the idiot the impression a huge company like Skyline cared about a single shopper? "We want to keep our customers happy.

Why don't you give me your number and I'll call you as soon as we know more?"

"You'll call?"

He sounded so hopeful, my smile returned. "Of course. We want you to get your items as quickly as possible. I'll make this a top priority."

"Okay." He repeated his number twice, just in case I was too dense to note it down properly the first time around. "Don't forget,"

he said before hanging up.

I'd never met anyone so obnoxious, but the line rang again and I forgot about him. Outside, darkness descended, carrying heavy clouds that promised a rainy night.

"I'm off," Rick whispered behind me. "See you after your holidays."

Nodding, I waved and responded to my last customer of the day.

"You never called even though you said you would," the same guy said.

"How—" It didn't matter why he got re-routed to me yet again. I needed to keep a professional attitude so, naturally, I told a lie. "Our dispatch department is still investigating. I promise I'll get back to you as soon as I know more. If there's nothing else—"

"Actually, there is." The guy took a deep breath. "You're located only a few miles away. Why don't you pop over and deliver the parcel yourself?"

For a moment, I stared at the phone, lost for words. In the twelve months I'd been working there, I received the weirdest requests, but none involved playing postman while being telephone stalked. My anger flared up and Kinky wasn't helping by making himself heard again.

Piss off, mate.
Kinky had a point.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wish I could do that, but it's against company policy to visit a customer." I kept my smile in place even though I didn't feel like it.

"Not good enough. I need this parcel today. You don't seem very busy, so make yourself useful and bring it over."

Why, he was one infuriating guy. He could call himself lucky that I took my job very seriously. "I’m afraid that's not possible, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because it's against—"

"I want my parcel."

Kinky snorted.
Tell him to pop over and you'll shove it up his—

Don't listen to Kinky. The poor man's desperate, Cassie. For all
you know he might be trying to protect his pet cat from wild animals,
Pinky said.

Kinky laughed into my eardrum.
More likely from your bad
breath, you diaper-wearing, inflated—

My customer said something I missed. Was that how a schizophrenic felt? I couldn't take it any more. "Shut up," I yelled. My work mates peered up from their computers screens. I smiled at them and pointed at the papers on my desk as thought that would explain my outburst.

The guy on the line took a sharp breath. "What did you just say to me?"

Kinky looked away, pouting. I slapped my hand against my left shoulder even though I must've tried a million times before and knew there was no chance in Hell I'd get rid of him. "Not you, sir. My colleague's been—" Breaking off, I rubbed my temples. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Apology not accepted, unless you bring over my stuff."

Bring over my stuff
, Kinky mocked.
Tell him, I'll pop over and
put the mace—

"But hurry up. The game's starting at seven and I don't want to be interrupted," the guy continued.

My blood was boiling. "What do you think I am? A delivery courier? Why don't you make use of all the waiting on your hands and get a life in the meantime? You'll thank me later."

For the first time in my promising career, I did the unspeakable and hung up on a customer, instantly regretting it. What was I thinking? I loved my job. If I got fired, Dad would request that I move back home and I'd rather not.

You see, as a child, I was always the odd one out. When other girls dressed in pink and white, I could only wear black and blood red

—as in red with loads of blood splatters. It was my father's sense of fashion.

Other girls had puppies and fluffy kittens to cuddle. I had a beast of a hound with blazing red eyes and unnatural speed. Bruno was the stuff of nightmares, and would devour anything coming within a thirty-mile radius. At least, I was never bullied since the few kids that tried, disappeared forever. Dad said they moved home, but I knew better.

I always knew my parents weren't the usual sales clerk and nurse; Mother was a high-ranking angel, seraph to be more precise since she hated being called a mere angel. How she met and fell in love with someone like Lucifer was beyond me, but it goes to show love is blind. Once the infatuation's gone, so are the pink goggles.

Now, when we all gathered for birthdays, they couldn't even pretend to like each other.

"See what you've done, Kinky?" I glowered at his smug smile. He shrugged and disappeared in a huge flame that sizzled. He was just hiding in my purse until the air cleared again and he resumed causing more mischief.

A clock stroke six, ending my last working day. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my bag and headed home. I drove through the crowded city like a maniac, barely halting at stop signs, and arrived at my one bed flat in record time. If Dad wasn't so stingy, I could afford at least a mansion, but he wasn't keen on his only child walking among mortals, and so he kept me on a very short financial leash.