A Heaven and Hell Story
Wedding of the Century
By E. E. Nalley
Despite what anyone might tell you,
learning Martial Arts isn’t any kind of fun. Oh, in the movies, everybody and
their brother knows some kind of obscure tradition that supposedly takes half a
life time to master. Of course it never took them half a life time to
do that, and the movies always kind of gloss over all the bumps and bruises
between ‘Hey, I wanna kick some ass!’ and ‘Watch it, homes, I know fill in the
blank here.’
I’d give anything to be
painting a fence or waxing a couple of cars.
As I slid to a stop at the base of
a tree in the rather nice forest glade that was evidently the domain of the
Arch Angel Michael, General of the Heavenly Hosts, Guardian of Honorable
Warfare, Patron of Righteous Soldiers and all around buff dude, we both gave a
ragged sigh of disappointment.
I never would have thought Heaven
could involve so much pain. “You’re not keeping your focus,” he told me
finally as he entered my line of vision as I contemplated the canopy of the
magnificent Redwood I was at the base of.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter!” I
complained as he helped me to my feet. “Can’t I just get a body guard or
something?” The six foot six, blonde, tanned and extremely fit Arch
Angel favored me with one of his dazzling smiles before taking advantage of his
hold on my hand to flip me across the glade onto my back again.
“No,” he said as I came to a stop
once more. “Everyone is in the Army up here, Rebecca, to include our
Diplomatic Corps as it were. You may need to defend yourself and its high time
you figured out how.”
I scrambled to my feet and tried to
keep my distance. “Since when is the after life about going to school?” I
demanded as he circled me, working his way closer.
“Where is it written you stop
learning when you die?” he wanted to know. “I’m surprised Lilith let you out
with no training. Your sisters are formidable fighters. You’ll more than
likely run into them and Truce or no, someone might be looking for some pay back.”
“It was my first feeding,” I told
him, back peddling and drifting left to counter his slow spiral towards me.
“I’d only been dead a week!”
“Yes, I read the report,” he told
me as he feinted in one direction and lunged in the other. With a terrified squeak,
I leapt skyward, my bat wings pulling me aloft as he passed under me. Once
over his head, I planted my feet on his dreamy shoulders and kicked out
while my tail, ever one to have a mind of its own, wrapped itself around his
leg.
There was a crash behind me as I
pirouetted in mid air. Michael was getting up from the ruins of the weapons
table I’d just shoved him into, scattering everything from clubs to machine
guns across the glade.
Oh dear.
But my worry was unfounded as he
was laughing as he got up. “Good!” he complimented me. “Now you’re getting
the hang of it. I’m obviously a better fighter than you so you should be
looking for a chance to evade and withdraw.”
“Um, I really just panicked and
ran,” I told him.
“I said that,” he replied with a
chuckle. “Only my way sounds better.” I made a T of my hands as I drifted
back to the ground.
“Time out, coach. Can I get a
drink of water or something?”
He waved to a bright orange
dispenser of the sports drink of champions that had been on one side of the
table. I filled the paper cup and drank gratefully. Then, surprised at the
wonderfulness of the flavor, refilled it and drank more, savoring the flavor.
“Wow! What is this?”
“Water of life,” he replied. “I’m
glad you enjoy it.”
That brought a pause to me as I
looked up at him. “Um, Michael?”
He wiped at his face with a towel
as some of his lieutenants put the table right and began re-organizing the
weapons on it. “You can call me Mike, Rebecca. We’re on the same side now.”
I felt a blush at his familiarity and a small smile to my face.
“Why am I thirsty? Aren’t I…?”
“Dead? Yes. And for a good while
until you really get used to that, you’ll find you keep a lot of your old
habits. When you’ve just done something strenuous, you’ll be tired and want to
sleep. It’s ok. It’ll pass in a hundred years or so.” He collected up a
handgun of some type from the table and removed its magazine before snatching
it open and presenting it to me. “Ready for something a little different?”
Sigh. “I guess. I didn’t
think you guys would be into guns.”
“Firearms, like any other weapon,
are a tool,” he told me. “No one thinks of a screwdriver as evil, do they?” I
shook my head. “I can think of a half dozen ways to kill someone with a
screwdriver. The tool is merely that, a tool. How it’s used determines its
effect. Now, this is a fairly standard semiautomatic pistol. Ever handle
something like this?”
“My papa is a banker,” I said with
a quiet moment of remorse at the thought of my doubtlessly grieving parents.
“He had a Taurus in 9mm and .45 showed me how to use both. It was our father
son thing.”
That brought Michael a fair bit of
pleasure. “Good, then I shouldn’t have to go over safety, right?”
“Muzzle in a safe direction always,
finger out of the trigger guard until I intend to fire, ditto for the safety.”
He nodded and presented me with the magazine. A group of targets appeared down
the glade away from us.
“Let’s see how you do.”
The first shot brought back some
happy memories of days at the range with my papa and brought a smile to my
face. But the subsequent shots, while right where I wanted them, had a very
strange effect on me. My lips were tingling and my crotch was getting damp.
I removed the magazine, which evidently had an endless supply of bullets and
placed it on the table. “Mike, something’s wrong!” I gasped.
“No, that’s about what I expected
to happen,” he told me.
“Me getting horny?” I
demanded to his chuckle.
“It’s a proven fact that firing a
pistol, or any fire arm for that matter, generates the same hormonal response
in your body as getting kissed. Now, given your rather heightened sense of
arousal, I figured that would be your reaction.”
“Now you tell me!”
“I think that will be enough for
today,” he said, picking up a complicated holster system from the table and
putting the pistol with its two magazines in it. “This will do until we can
get you better trained in hand to hand. I don’t want you relying only on this
so don’t slouch on your practice exercises. Now, these magazines are mundane
bullets and the other are Orachalim. Use them sparingly, they’ll hurt any
supernatural creature, but they’re a pain to make. This holster will
alter itself to what ever design you might want, and I guarantee no one will
figure out you’re carrying concealed when you wear it.”
I gave him a hung as I accepted the
gifts, more than a little over awed by this level of generosity. But, being
that close to such a hunk of Arch Angel made my present condition a bit worse. He
kissed my forehead. “Hit the showers kiddo, and make it a cold one. You’ve
got other appointments today.”
“Yes sir!” I teased him, snapping
off a salute.
Yeah, a cold shower was just
what I needed.
* * *
Once I was presentable once more,
Marc’s frighteningly efficient secretary informed me the CEO of Fair
Trade was holding court on Earth today. So I hopped a ray of light back down
stairs, still more than a little disturbed at my ability to come and go that
way to a medium sized building in the business district of Williamsburg. That
struck me as an odd place for something as large as Fair Trade to work out of,
but I wasn’t going to complain.
George lived in Williamsburg.
Getting to see my, well, truth be
told I wasn’t entirely sure what our relationship was per se. But, getting to
see my favorite Theology Student was worth the trip all by itself I strolled
through the lobby invisible to the Lady’s room where I whipped myself up a nice
conservative skirt suit in an eye catching white that off set my dusky skin and
ebony hair quite well.
Now that I had a context to be seen
in, I let myself become solid and made my way back through the lobby to a bank
of elevators. As we weren’t in Heaven any more, I had to wait for one and did
so with a bit of a smile on my face at being on Earth once more.
A familiar voice drew my eyes to
the security desk in the center of the lobby where I received a pleasant
surprise. “I’m here to see a Mr. Marc Angels?” said a somewhat confused George
who was dressed in a nice, if slightly out of date off the rack from Sears suit
that his new and improved physique was giving him fits over.
I briskly strode over, waving to
the guard who was all smiles. “George!” I greeted with a big hug and grin.
“It’s alright, Sam, he’s with me.”
“Ok, Miss Estabon. You take him up
stairs.”
“Wow,” smiled George as he pulled
away from our hug with as much reluctance as I did. “Rebecca, you look great!
After I’d seen you last, I was worried.”
I linked my arm in his as I guided
him back over to the elevators. “Oh, I got my bell rung for me, but I’m doing
alright now. Sorry to have worried you.”
“Would, this be the same Marc who
was there?” he asked in a subdued voice. I nodded as I ushered him into the
elevator which had arrived.
“It would,” I said, hitting the
button for the top floor. “You can speak fairly freely. Most of the people
here know who they work for. But, most are also mortal, just like you. Be
mindful of anybody in a visitor badge, and you’ll be fine.”
“So, I’m guessing your new job
thing went off with out a hitch?” My rear burned a bit in remembered bruising.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,
but yes I’m officially on the same side as you, now. Which would be why you’re
here, my friend. I think the boss has a job offer for you.”
“Have a job,” he responded. “Got
one lined up for after school, too. Been accepted as a provisional Priest to,
well, I don’t guess the denomination matters, does it?”
I batted my eyelashes at him and
was rewarded by the feeling of his heat rate picking up. “Oh?
Congratulations. Isn’t there anything that could change your mind?”
The door opening cut off his
stuttered attempts at reply as I led him to a nice outer office where Kimiko,
Marc’s secretary, was all smiles as she fielded about four calls at once. It
was rather disturbing, not only was I not entirely sure just how many hands she
actually had, but I’d just left her at Marc’s headquarters in Heaven. I
blinked. “You get around, Kimiko.”
“Where ever the boss needs me,
Rebecca. Mr. Conner, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Marc is expecting you, so
go right in.” I gave George a grin and let him into the inner office which was
rather like Marc’s in heaven. Just lavish enough, just restrained enough and
while it wasn’t dominated by the painting of Christ and the money changers like
his heavenly office was; it wasn’t exactly secular either.
He rose and circled his desk,
extending his hand as he did so. “Reverend Conner, it’s a pleasure to make
your acquaintance. I’m guessing you already know our Rebecca?”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr.
Angels,” replied George with some weight. “And it’s not Reverend just yet.”
“Of course, and my name is Marc.
Won’t you sit down?” There were a few minutes of chit chat to get out of the
way before the real business of the meeting could get under way.
During which, I learned that
George, with Marc’s help, had gotten Cutter, who was now Cathy officially
recognized as his little sister, of whom he was legal guardian I was touched
by the stories of how he had thrown himself at the demons who had attacked me
outside Neutral Grounds, having to be restrained by Michael himself. I didn’t
think I’d made that kind of impression. “So,” drawled Marc now that the
recap was over with and he could politely get to the meat of the meeting.
“Michael was very impressed by how you handled yourself, George. He tells me
he hasn’t had that kind of difficulty holding onto someone in the better part
of a thousand years.”
“He’s very generous to say that,” laughed
George. “As I recall, he said sit and I asked ‘where?’.”
“Well, the particulars don’t
matter, but if our Mike sees real talent of a Soldier of God in someone, well,
I defer to the experts. We were wondering if you’d be interested in a position
of a bit more responsibility with in the firm as it were?”
George squirmed in his seat a bit.
“I swore a number of years ago to be and do what the Master had need of, Marc.
My position there hasn’t changed. I do however feel that I can best
serve our collective Boss by just spreading the Gospel to every ear who will
listen.”
“A man should know his
limitations,” agreed Marc. “See, it’s just this, we prefer to work as closely
as possibly with something of a Veil of Secrecy down here. Your knowledge of the
Truth of things puts us in a rather awkward situation. I understand that you
experienced some changes after being, ahem, intimate with Rebecca?”
“That’s right, I seemed to be
significantly stronger after Rebecca and I made love, you’re correct.” Marc
beamed.
“Glad to hear Rafe’s efforts in
reclaiming our dominion there is going well.”
“Sir?” asked George quizzically,
but Marc just waved off the point as unimportant.
“George, my friend, I want you to
understand you have Free Will. You can tell me no to what I’m about to offer,
but before you make your mind up, I would like you to consider things rather
carefully. Will you promise me that?”
The Preacher considered a long
moment before nodding thoughtfully. “Alright.”
I could see the tendril of his word
float between the two, binding promise to keeper. It’s amazing the things
you learn when you switch sides. Marc cleared his throat carefully.
“George, what you experienced with Rebecca is somewhat unprecedented. When a
succubus makes the transition to Bright Lilim…”
“I’m sorry, what?” interrupted
George. Marc was all smiles.
“Rebecca is now what is considered
a Bright Lilim. That’s a rather adroit way of saying a Redeemed Succubus.
But, we don’t have a lot of experience as to what happens when this
takes place. In all of history, Rebecca is only the third Bright
Lilim. And the other two occurred during the Active Phase of the War. I’m
afraid they didn’t last very long.”
That gave me a moment of
pause. Maybe this job wouldn’t be all sweetness and light after all. I was
sure there were more than Ursula and Lilith whose feathers I’d ruffled.
“We don’t honestly know why you
were strengthened by allowing her to feed off of you,” continued Marc. “But,
we do know what it is she fed on.”
“You don’t know?” asked a rather
amused George.
“Well, of course He does, but, He’s
been content to take something of a hands off view of things for a while. He
can afford to. In any event, what Rebecca fed on was the Temptations that you
probably weren’t even aware you’d been carrying around.”
“That would make sense,” agreed
George. “Being an agent of Temptation, Rebecca would have a unique
understanding of where they were and how they work.”
“They taste good, too,” I couldn’t
help but interject with a grin.
Marc’s smile was indulgent. “The
odd thing is, we’ve done some experimenting and the process hasn’t been
repeated. While that’s a good thing, we wouldn’t want to have to adjust
reality to explain a sudden up turn in fitness down here, it does make you
unique. It wasn’t just your body that was strengthened, George; your soul
became stronger as well. That makes you a valuable commodity.”
George was thoughtful and more than
a tad guarded. “Yes, I can see how the Other Side would desire to try to turn
me.”
“Oh, don’t worry there,” I told
him, holding up my left hand which glowed softly with my Mark, causing the
corresponding sigil of my ownership, for lack of a better word, on his ring
finger to glow a bit more brightly. “They can’t turn you so long as you wear
my sigil.”
“But they can kill you,”
concluded Marc. “We’re worried about that, George. We’d like for you to
consider coming a bit deeper into the fold, acting as one of our Field Agents
here on Earth. That would allow us to be a bit more direct in aiding you, as
well as some training that, unfortunately, you’re probably going to need.”
“And you’ll get to work closely
with me,” I intimated to him, shamelessly making him aware of the assets of
such an arraignment.
“You and Rebecca do seem to work
well together,” agreed Marc. “And you can accomplish considerably more good to
everyone this way. If you’ll agree?”
George sighed softly. “I will
consider it. Is there a time constraint here?”
Marc spread his hands in a helpless
gesture. “Sooner is always better I’m afraid. I know this is a big decision
and you two have a plane to catch and a wedding to attend. Can I expect your
answer after?”
George nodded thoughtfully before
he turned back to me. “You have a place to stay before we leave?” My grin let
him know my answer.
* * *
I could see how grateful George was
to be free of the building as the tie to his suit was gone before we reached
his car, a tired, but well loved Honda Accord. “So, you work for him?” he
asked as we walked, pulling off the jacket as well, taking care to hang both up
on a hanger he had with him in the back seat.
“I work with him,” I
answered with a slight emphasis. “Like he said, there hasn’t been one of me in
a while. They’re not entirely sure what to do with me.” He opened my door for
me with a kiss of my hand as he helped me in.
“How very un-imaginative of them,”
he chuckled as I got my skirt settled and let him shut the door. As he
clamored in on his side he paused in the buckling of seat belts and preparing
to start the car. “He seems like an alright sort.”
“He is an Arch Angel, dear,”
I supplied.
The Accord started on the second
try with much coughing and sputtering. “Do you know what kind of ‘Field Work’
he’s talking about?” George asked finally as he backed out of the space and got
us headed to his apartment.
“Well, like he said, there is a
Truce, but there is some fighting. Probably we’d be working most directly with
Michael. I’m training under him now.”
He winced. “Yes, you did seem to
need a pointer or two there. Funny, I’d always thought of Succubae as being,
pardon the pun, hellacious fighters.”
“I’m learning,” I chuckled in my
own defense. “I’m still very new at this.”
“That makes two of us.”
We rode in silence for a few minutes
as he maneuvered the car onto the Interstate to head back to his side of town.
Once he’d done that he spared me a glance as I enjoyed the sunshine and the
feeling of being sort of alive again. “I’m really glad you’re alright.” I
favored him with one of my soon to be patented heart melting smiles.
“Thank you.”
“At the risk of pressing my luck, I
wonder if I might impose on you for something of a favor?” I felt a smirk pull
at the corner of my bee stung lips, but didn’t answer. Feeling his way over
the thin ice he continued. “Well, Cathy has been something of a handful. The
language thing has cleared up, but, she seems to be having trouble adjusting to
her new situation. I caught her smoking the other day. Lord knows where she
got the cigarettes, let alone the lighter. I was hoping that, perhaps you
could…”
He trailed off uncertainly as I let
the chuckle that had been worming its way up my throat escape. “Put the fear
of God into her?”
“Well, maybe not that extreme, but something.
I have to be gone most of the day and I guess I worry by nature.”
“Seeing as how I saddled you with
her, I suppose that’s the least I can do. I was hoping that just going through
this would set her straight, but maybe Baal had his hooks into her stronger
than I thought. I do have an idea, though. I’ll need to get some help; can I
meet you at your place?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Any help would
be a blessing and you’re always welcome.”
That brought a very pleased smile
to my face as I kissed his cheek and let my context for the world drop. The
Honda passed through me as I winged my way Heaven word once more.
* * *
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to
the commotion of what appears to be a succubus arriving in Heaven, halo or no.
The pointing and the whispering is ok, you learn to ignore it, but the
shrinking away as if I’m here for Hell’s due does take it’s toll.
At least Saint Peter could always
be counted on for a smile and wave of welcome. “Rebecca, back so soon?” The
soul he had been dealing with shrank away a bit. I counted to five before
flashing him what I hoped was a friendly smile.
“Relax mi amigo; I’m not
here for you. I work here.” The relief on the soul’s face was
palpable.
“So,” asked Peter with a smile.
“What can I do for my favorite Bright Lilim?”
“How many Bright Lilim do you
know?” I asked.
“You make three.”
Ah. “Well, I’m looking for
Blandine. You seen her? Or should I just head over to the March of Dreams?”
The Saint considered this for a moment.
“Actually, it’s good you stopped, I
just saw her not too long ago with Michael. I think they were headed to the
Hall of Justice.”
I felt an involuntary shudder pass
through me the concept of going to Dominique’s headquarters. Nice enough lady,
but scary. I think it had to do with her and the unblinking Eyes of
Justice thing. I forced a smile of thanks as Peter got back to work sorting
out the arriving souls as I winged over to the stronghold of the Inquisition.
Despite the corny name, (and yes
this place had been around a long time before the cartoon), the Hall of
Justice wasn’t done up in some kind of Post Modern anything. It was a
classic stone and mortar fortress, complete with the draw bridge and moat.
Why? Your guess is as good as mine, everyone here can fly.
The central tower of the place was
evidently Dominique’s office so I stopped at the base of it to the general un-amusement
of the two Elohim that were standing guard there. Clang went there
spears over the door in fine B Movie fashion. “What is your business here,
Succubus?” demanded the leader.
Sigh. In every organization
there’s always somebody who doesn’t get the memo.
“I’m here looking for Blandine,
Arch Angel of Dreams for two and I’m not a Succubus for one.” I pointed
at the halo over my head. “See? This isn’t exactly a party favor.” The two
traded glances but the spears didn’t move. “Aw, come on, guys, it’s not like I
can lie to you, with out you noticing anyways.”
“Wait, I’ll call for the Chief of
the Watch,” ordered the first, an ok looking type really in that swarthy,
Mediterranean boy becoming a man way, right down to the thick curly hair. I
was going to settle in to wait, but, as it is want to do, my subconscious
reached out and grabbed the two of them by their lower brains.
Realizing what I was doing I gave a
mental shrug. Hey, it beat waiting for the Chief of the Watch. “Come on,
boys, I’m in a terrible hurry. There’s a memo circulating about me, I
swear,” which I annunciated with a flick of my tail that did interesting things
to my rear. “Cut a girl a break, won’t you?”
“Well…” drawled out the leader,
even as the spears sort of drifted apart.
“Not keeping a very good watch, are
we?” demanded the stern intonations of Mike as he rounded the corner with
Dominique and the very angel I needed, Blandine.
The Elohim snapped to stiff
attention, the lesser pointing his spear at me. Mike waved them off as I gave
him a hug. “Bit late for that. Really Dom, you’re slipping. I thought
everybody got that memo.”
The Arch Angel of Justice’s
unblinking eyes stared down Mike. “Got? Yes. Am I responsible for making
them read it too?” she demanded, a bit crossly. “And you, young lady,” she
said, turning that stare on me. “Just why were you trying to wiggle your way
past my guards?”
“Well, actually, I was looking for
Blandine,” I said, truthfully. Blandine, a tall, winnowy Angel with hair and
skin that seemed more than a touch gray, favored me with an amused expression.
“I need a favor if I could?”
“Did I give you the
misunderstanding we were finished?” asked Dominique. I let out a squeak and hid
a bit behind Mike. “Why are you looking for Blandine and do you think that in
any way let’s you off the hook for trying to striptease your way into my
headquarters?”
“I’m still fully clothed!” I
protested.
“Pity,” she commented to a choked
exclamation from my more than human shield.
“Dom!” he exclaimed in shock. “Was
that a joke?”
* * *
As I came into solidity once more
in the World of Men, a felt a goofy grin pull at my mouth. The door to
George’s apartment was before me and rather than the intense feeling of Go Away
I’d felt on my first visit, the place seemed to be begging for me to come in.
“I’m here,” I whispered to the sigil on my hand, knowing he would hear me no
matter where we were.
I did a lot more smiling on this
side, I realized. Guess that made this the right choice. From beyond the door
I heard his voice ask Cathy, former Pimp who had gone by the street handle of
Cutter, to open the door. It swung aside as the curiosity on her face settled
into annoyed displeasure. “What are you doing here?” she demanded
angrily.
I crossed the threshold, much to
her surprised dismay. “I’m here to see a great friend and ally of my Masters,”
I told her darkly. I let my wings and tail loose from their confinement with a
sigh of relaxation.
“G…get lost!” she stammered. “You
don’t own me!”
“Oh?” I asked, tracing the faded
lines of Baal’s mark on her forehead with my finger. “Is that a fact? I
haven’t heard anything about a new name being added to the Book of Life
upstairs. I don’t recall any of the Arch Angels going on and on about a young
soldier of God living here. Other than George that is.”
Her lips began to tremble in that
little girl about to explode into tears way that really tugged at my heart.
Or, what I labeled my heart anyway. Come to think of it, I did wonder how the
mechanics of this new Glorified body of mine worked. Never the less, I steeled
my resolve; this was what Tough Love was all about.
“George!” she squalled, bursting
into tears and fleeing to hide behind him. My mind recalled by own use of Mike
for the same purpose not too long ago. I shut the door and draped my wings,
cape like, over my shoulders.
“Rebecca!” said George with
sufficient put on surprise that I don’t think Cathy picked up on it. “I didn’t
expect you, like this…?”
I shrugged. “Would it help if I
appeared in a ball of fire and sulfurous smoke?”
“No, the smell would take forever
to get out and probably set off the fire alarm.” He sighed with put on
resolve. “Are you here for her, then?”
“In the morning,” I told him. “You
don’t mind if I hang around till then, do you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
He considered this, before turning
to Cathy. “Well, what would you like for your last meal?” Cathy’s cries
became a torrent as she fled to her bedroom and slammed the door. I hastily
built a ward around the windows, making sure she couldn’t run, but she didn’t
intend on running. She’d thrown herself on her bed and was crying her eyes out.
George went to go and comfort her
but stopped when I tugged at my sigil. Looking at me, I shook my head. “It’s
called tough love for a reason.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’ll be over
soon. And if this doesn’t work, George, I dunno what will.”
“Here’s hoping.”
I whispered a song of sleep I let
weave it’s way around Cathy’s form and felt her nearly instantly drift away to
the March of Dreams. The rest was in Blandine’s hands.
* * *
The night passed with supernatural
speed to Cathy. It seemed like she’d barely let her eye lids droop shut before
a tall, gray lady with gray feathered wings was lifting her from her bed, and she
was there, looking hungry and terrible. “Come, Cathy,” the gray lady told
her. “It’s time.”
Cathy turned to flee, to find
herself face to face with her body, lying on the bed. “Noooo!” she wailed.
“It’s too late for that now,” the
Demoness growled in her inhuman voice. “You had your chance to change.”
“But….but…” she stammered.
“But what?” asked the Gray Angel
softly. “Did you give a moments thought of repentance after the grace you
received? Did you at all dwell on the waste you life has been?”
“I was going to!” cried
Cathy.
“This is why we’ll win,” chuckled
the Demoness. “They’re so lazy.”
“I won’t go with you!” Cathy
shouted as she tried to grab a hold of the gray angel. To her dismay, her
hands passed through her, even as a smoky leash snaked its way from the
Demoness to her throat. A vicious yank pulled her to the succubus’ side.
“You don’t get a choice any more,”
she hissed. “Maybe I’ll hand you over to Lilith and you can get a taste of
what being a whore is really like?” The ground didn’t want to support her
anymore and they were sinking through it down and down as it became hotter and
more oppressive by the second before they arrived an archway that seemed to be
made of human skulls.
Abandon all hope, O ye who enter
here.
“Here we are, Cutter, home sweet
home.” She walked forward, dragging her by the leash past the line of souls
being whipped through it by nightmares given form. “Don’t worry, after a
hundred years or so, you’ll get used to the wails of agony.”
“Pp…please,” begged Cathy, “Can’t
I…”
She wheeled on her with inhuman
fury. “What? Have another chance?” she shrieked. “I gave you another
chance! You wasted it, just like everything else in your life. You want to
know what your boss, Baal, is like? He’s a load of laughs. He can play a
symphony with a knife and a human body. Each cut causing just the right
squeal of pain. You should have seen what he did to me. I spent a week
getting gang raped by him and his men. Oh, too bad you missed that, huh?
Probably the first piece of ass they got in a couple of thousand years.”
“I’ll change! I swear!” sobbed
Cathy. “Don’t make me stay here!”
“I don’t make you stay here,” the
Demoness snarled. “You do. I’m not even here any more. I work
upstairs. Bringing you is just doing the Boss a favor. What does He care
about a pimp who beat his girls?”
“Bring me my prey,” intoned the
horrific sight of Baal as the ground itself shook as he walked up.
“No! No! NOOOOO!”
* * *
I watched her snap awake, terrified
as I floated above her. Remind me to never tick you off, Blandine, I
thought to her, shuddering in remembrance of my week with Baal.
I will, she thought back to
me. For now, I had a scared little girl to comfort, while making sure she got
the message. She saw me as I settled to the ground, shrinking away in terror.
“Yeah, THAT was a dream. YOU can wake up. But there are millions who
CANT."
The tearful floodgates opened.
“Why won’t you freaks leave me alone?” she balled. I gathered her into a hug
of both my arms and wings, letting the comfort of the Divine flow through me
into her. She’s seen the stick. Now was the time for some carrot.
“Because we love you, Cathy. And
we’re afraid for you. That awful place exists and if you keep
going like you’re doing now you’ll see it! And it won’t be a dream then. And
you won’t wake up from it.”
She cried for a long time into my
breast and I felt a strange sensation come over me. A mixture of this must
be what motherhood is like added with a very generous helping of you
won’t ever feel it. My tail fetched me the box of tissue from her night
stand and offered her one. She blew with a strength that would have made Mike
proud.
“Is it all true?” she asked
finally, looking up in my face. “Did they…?”
“Yes. Constantly. There’s no
sleep there, no passing out because you can’t take it any more. Do you know
why? Do you want to know why I was given to them?” She considered this
for a moment and then forced a nod. “The Princess of Hell that owned me is
named Lilith. I didn’t call her mother with the proper respect and speed she
wanted. Now, if something as trivial as that rates what happened to me, think
about what happens when you really make them mad.”
“But, you’re not…” I shook my
head.
“Nope, I redeemed myself.” I
kicked the halo back a bit on my head like a hat. “Apprentice Angel First
Class Rebecca, at your service. I’ve got an ID somewhere.” We shared a
girlish giggle for a moment. “That’s what I’m trying to do for you, Cathy.
Get your act together. Listen to George and mind what he tells you.
You couldn’t ask for a better guardian. I can see his soul so I can say
that with some authority.”
She sighed. “I’ll try…”
I cranked up my best green Muppet
impersonation. “Try not! Do! Or Do not. There is no try.”
“Well, if they let you in,”
she told me playfully. I creamed her with a pillow and it just got sloppy from
there.
* * *
Once I’d gotten Cathy asleep once
more, with a heartfelt thanks to Blandine who assured me she’d have some
pleasant dreams for the rest of the night, I walked out to find George waiting
anxiously for me. I favored him with a tired grin that made him sweep me into
his arms and that felt heavenly. “Well?” asked as we broke from our
kiss. “How did it go?”
“I think she got the message,” I
told him hesitantly. “The rest is up to her.” He reached down and literally
swept me off my feet. “Why, Mr. Conner!” I exclaimed with a grin, even as my
tail wrapped around him. “What ever could be on your mind?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about a
quiet evening of Bible Study and heartfelt prayer?”
“How about I introduce you to the
joys of one of the Greatest Gifts of Heaven; Sex?” He grinned.
“That works too.”
It took him a bit longer than I to
return to how he’d been created, but then I have a perk or two there. With a
thought I was nude as he struggled to match me. Our first coupling didn’t give
us a lot of time for foreplay. I’d missed the preacher terribly, and
he’d been worried out of his mind over me. So as he had his way with me, I let
myself into his soul, seeing what I could snack on while enjoying his
ministrations immensely.
There, I found a couple of small
Temptations, nothing major; not that I expected there to be any. What did
surprise me was a little shadow of Baal whispering to him that what Cathy
needed was a couple of swift lessons of the Rod of Correctness. It have me
great pleasure to devour the little shadow and free his soul from that
particular torment.
Beyond him I found a couple of
fleeting worries that by enjoying the intimacy with me he was somehow opening
himself to a life of depraved lust. They added to my snack even as I let the
Joy of the Gift reassure him that the physical display of Love was a
Gift from on high.
The thought of pleasing both me and
his Master brought on his first orgasm as I was satisfied that was the limit of
what I could snack on from him. That just left enjoying the act of how I’d
done my snooping.
Not to give the impression that
George had been less than wonderful in our first encounter, but now, able to
compare the old, mousy George and this new, improved, bigger model, I
have to say I’ll pick this. I guess size really does matter.
* * *
I awoke to the muted strains of
Handel’s Halleluiah Chorus and the wonderful smell of bacon and eggs
drifting from the kitchen. While George wasn’t in the bed as I sat up and
stretched, I had hardly woken alone. The feeling of the Boss was everywhere in
the room. I could finally get what he had said in our last conversation here
and it was a very comfortable feeling. I gathered up the jeans and the College
of William and Mary Theology School sweatshirt I’d last worn here he’d left
out and pulled them on.
A glance at the bed and it made
itself as my gift to him. My hair was in a fashion that could only be called,
rode hard, put away wet and just woke up. I didn’t fix it as there wasn’t any
sense in rubbing Cathy’s nose in the perks of the job. I followed my nose out
to the dinette of the apartment, content to go through the motions of breakfast
to keep them company.
“Morning, sleepy head,” teased
George from his labors in the kitchen. “Were you going to sleep the day
away?” I yawned as I accepted a mug of coffee from Cathy with a smile.
“Nope, just enjoying the quiet,” I
told him before turning back to Cathy. “Better dreams last night?” She nodded
with a grave expression beyond the years of her tiny body.
“How do I make up for what I’ve
done?” she asked quietly.
“I have a good friend coming who
might be able to help you with that,” I replied pausing to take a sip and was
surprised at the mix of flavors and energy within the coffee.
“What?” asked George. “Is it bad?”
I nearly choked shaking my head.
“No! It’s great! I’m just surprised is all.”
He shrugged as he brought over mine
and Cathy’s plates before going back to fetch his own. “Well, that doesn’t
surprise me too much. Seems like we went over a Cabbalistic text a semester or
two ago that mentioned something about that. The Damned can only feed on what
ever specific aspect of purity they seek to pervert. But, Angels, being
created by and of God can enjoy the entire works of His creation. I’d have to
dig to get the exact quote.”
I waved him off as I salted my eggs
from habit. “That’s close enough for me. This smells so good, George!”
“Who is this friend of yours that’s
coming?” she interrupted hesitantly.
“Raphael, Arch Angel of Mercy,” I
told her. “Technically, I suppose she would be my boss. She’s in charge of
the other Angel I work with, Joy, so I’ll probably end up working for her. She
agreed to baby sit you while we were away at the wedding.”
Just a hint of the old Cutter came
out in her frown of displeasure. “I’m not a baby and I don’t need a sitter.”
“You’re also legally ten and George
can go to jail for neglecting you,” I reminded her. “You want to take
your chances as a ward of the State?” She shook her head vigorously. “Good.
Besides, you’ll like Rafe. Everybody likes her.”
“I went to get my passport,” said
George as he returned to the table and I was enjoying his eggs with gusto.
“But the people told me there was no way I could get one in time.”
“Look in my purse,” I told him
around a most unladylike mouthful. He turned and dug into the black leather
shoulder bag that was hanging on the back of his chair, removing a Passport,
round trip 1st Class tickets and the other documents of our travel.
“Courtesy of Marc,” I managed around a sip of coffee. “Working for us does have
its perks.”
“So I’m learning,” he said with a
grin. He opened the passport to find a very flattering portrait of himself
staring out at him. Finally he closed it and caught my eye.
“This isn’t illegal, is it?” I
nearly snorted coffee through my nose.
“Are you really asking that
question?” I asked in a laugh. “No, it’s not illegal, just miraculous. Marc
has his way bureaucracies.” The doorbell rang interrupting further discussion
of the technical aspects of the modern miracle. Being closest, I got the door
to find Raphael, resplendent in her loud silk sarong and a travel bag tucked
over one shoulder. “Hey boss,” I greeted as I stood aside so she could enter.
“Thanks for picking up this on short notice.”
Her eyes took in my hair as she
worked her fingers through it, making very little real difference in its
appearance. “Have we been putting in overtime, Rebecca?” she asked with a
smile.
“Some; can’t help being a
workaholic in this job,” I agreed with a smile. George had stood and presented
his hand that she batted aside to sweep him into one of her overpowering full
body hugs. “None of that formal pish posh, George,” she chided as he got his
breath back. “And you must be Cathy,” she said turning to the little girl torn
between glee and fear of the new comer. “Think nothing of it, Rebecca,”
Raphael told me as she worked her way back to the beginning of the
conversation. “I haven’t had a real vacation in a long time and I hear
Disney is lovely this time of year.”
Cathy’s smile was guarded. “I…I’ve
always wanted to go there, but that’s for kids.”
“You are a kid, dear,”
assured Raphael. “Time you learned to enjoy the perks of starting over. I think
you’ve had enough of the punishments of it, yes?” Cathy nodded vigorously.
Rafe’s eyes sought me making mine seek my toes. “Giving bad dreams to little
girls, what were you thinking, Rebecca?”
“It…seemed like a good idea at the
time…” I stammered.
Rafe said nothing out loud, but her
mind told me, It was dear, just showing Cathy whose side I’m on.
Yes ma’am.
“Now,” she declared with a wave at
the table which instantly cleaned itself. “You two have a plane to catch, if
I’m not mistaken. But you won’t go anywhere looking like that my girl.” I
looked down to see the stylish and flirty sundress she’d dressed me in and knew
both hair and make up matched it. George’s jeans had been replaced by some
comfy looking Dockers and a polo shirt of forest green that played up that
magnificent chest of his. “Shoo!” she ordered. “Time for the grown ups to get
going! We children are going to have some fun.” George and I were
swept out of his apartment with bags that were suddenly packed and ready before
the door was rather firmly closed in our collective face.
His low laugh brought my eyes to
him. “Is she always that forceful?”
“Oh no,” I told him. “Usually it’s
much worse.”
* * *
A twelve hour flight is a twelve
hour flight. Feel free to include whatever details you need to. And, yes,
George is a new member of the Mile High Club.
* * *
Edinburgh International Airport was
having a rare day. The crowds were light, the sun was shining and it was a
beautiful day to be in Scotland. Doubtless, the post card photographers were
working overtime gathering a new crop of images for the next batch of their
trade. Our bags were collected with less than the usual fuss and a Driver was
waiting for us with quiet patience holding a placard with our names on it.
“I’m George Conner,” he greeted the driver somewhat uncertainly. He tipped his
cap and answered in a pleasant baritone of the local burr.
“Yes sir, Miss Plantard-Saint Clair
and Mr. Stewart send their greetings. If you’ll follow me, I’ll conduct you to
them.”
I nodded to the Elohim who was
guarding the driver invisibly who returned my greeting and followed us to the
waiting limousine. There, a contingent of his brothers and sisters in arms
were standing about, one for each of the security detail The driver held the
door for us as we slid in to the amused expression of Laurence, General of the
Heavenly host. “Fine afternoon, isn’t it?” he greeted as we got ourselves
comfortable in the back. A touch of the control brought the partition up
between us and the driver.
“Is..this normal?” asked George
after a moment.
“Not usually, but this is something
of a big deal.” The Arch Angel extended his hand. “Lawrence, CEO of Elohim
Security Specialists. Among other titles.”
“So the guards out there?” I asked
as the limo pulled off the curb and began to cruise.
“Are mostly aware of their Heavenly
Partners. Better safe than sorry. After a certain someone made us aware of
how sensitive this particular point of History was, we decided to step things
up a notch or two.”
“Well, I can certainly say I’m
impressed,” replied George. “All this for a simple, mundane marriage?” Lawrence
spread his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. “I suppose I should feel
safer then.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry, but I
don’t think I’d relax either. No telling if the Other Side will try
some thing, despite our precautions.”
We rode in silence for several
minutes, looking at what few sights there were to see. Edinburgh, like most
European cities, was big, dirty for the most part and sprawled in the way only
a town better than a thousand years old could. Still, the nicer parts of it we
rode through were quite nice, in a well to do suburbia kind of way. Lawrence
passed the time flipping through a magazine. Finally we pulled to a stop at a
house I knew well.
The front door had been repaired,
but you never forget the place where you defy Hell itself. The Plantard-St
Clair Manner was bustling with activity in a quietly ordered kind of way. The
driver got out and opened my door. “You’ll be staying here,” supplied Laurence.
“Tradition I’m afraid. George and I will be down at Stewart Hall.”
I pouted, but there really wasn’t
anything else for it. I’ll miss you, I projected to into the sigil to
George. He held up his hand and kissed his ring finger.
I’ll be as close as a thought.
Then I was swept into the energetic
hug of Elisabeth, the new bride to be. “You came!” she exclaimed as the Driver
worked out which of the bags was mine. “I’m so glad you’re alright! We were
worried sick! That wonderful Mr. Marc assured us you’d pull through, but
still, we hadn’t heard.”
The smile that pulled at my lips
wasn’t at all forced as I returned her hug. “I couldn’t miss this, now could
I?” I asked her, nodding to the driver as he passed, having turned my things
over to one of her houses staff. I couldn’t help watching the limo drive away
for a moment, rather confused thoughts rumbling in my mind. Once it was out of
sight, I turned once more to my hostess. “I see you’re adjusting well,” I
commented.
She blushed sweetly. “Well, one
does what one must for one’s country. This is actually working to our
advantage, your elegant solution.”
I felt my eyebrow climb my face.
“Oh?”
“Yes, Gregory is native Scott you
know, of the House of the Kings of Scotland.”
“What does his linage have to do
with the cosmic switcheroo that got played on you two?” I asked.
“I’m French,” she told me. My
being King of Scotland would have been a hard hill to climb. Now, I’m the
blushing (in more ways than one let me tell you!) bride and Greg will be
the King. Much easier for the locals to swallow.” I shared a wicked wink with
her as we followed her people inside.
“You’ll be swallowing a bit there
too, my pet, and take it from me, that’s a good thing.”
She turned a bit queasy at the
mention of her martial obligations but it only took about ten minutes of
reassurances about how much better she had it for that to pass.
* * *
Once I’d gotten settled in my rooms
Elisabeth had decided she wanted to spend the afternoon riding, so we were
taken to a lovely Equestrian Park on the outskirts of town. Her horse was a
rather spirited Stallion who was a brilliant white that made me more than a
touch nervous. They found me a nice, docile mare for my first time and we made
our way out onto the trail.
Our escort, both a burly looking
gentleman with plastic in his ear and several not quite natural bulges
and an amused female Elohim kept their distance so we could talk, but their
attention never flagged. “So,” Elisabeth started once we’d gotten free of the
prying ears. “What can you tell me about it?”
“What?” I asked, a bit torn between
trying to find a comfortable way to sit in an English saddle with a tail and my
fear of the mare deciding to take advantage of my inexperience.
“Heaven, of course!” she told me
with great enthusiasm. “To have the question answered still raises so
many more! Is really just all clouds or is the sun always shining? Do you
need to eat? What about sleeping? And you must tell me what He is
like!”
“Whoa,” I started but the mare took
that to mean I wanted her to stop and did so. It took me a second to get her
going again. Elisabeth was more than a touch amused at my problems. “Well,
slow down at least,” I told her once the mare was going once more. “Um, parts
of it seem to be made of clouds, other parts just seem like really nice places
on Earth. This park is like portions of it. You can always see the sun if you
want to, but if you want to sleep it gets dark. As I understand it, you don’t need
to eat or sleep, but the habit takes a while to break.”
“Amazing,” she whispered in
reverent awe. “And?”
“What? Oh, well, what can I add to
the existing descriptions? He’s, well, he’s great. Kind, loving of
course, and he’s got a great sense of humor. He really makes me feel welcome,
but I don’t get to see Him very much. I’m pretty busy training for work.”
“Training? Work?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m an Angel now. So there’s
all kinds of training involved. Self Defense, diplomacy, magic, that kind of
thing.”
“So, would you be my Guardian
Angel?” she asked softly. I shook my head.
“Not my department. Besides,
you’ve already got one. I work for Raphael, the Arch Angel of Mercy. Mostly
I’m helping her reclaim sex for the One on High.”
Her face dripped disbelief.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Not only am I
eminently qualified, but Sex is one of the Great Gifts you know. The Other
Side made a great victory out of getting mortals thinking it’s dirty. It’s
not! That is, after all, how you came to be here, you know.” We rode in
silence for a few minutes before she sighed.
“I’m terrified of it,” she
admitted.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, think about it! He’ll be inside
me and now I’m expected to give him an heir. Rebecca, I don’t
think I can!” I rolled my eyes.
“Elisabeth, I was born Ricardo
Manuel Estabon. I spent a week being gang raped by demons. So I feel I
can tell you this with great authority.” She nodded, interested. “Miel,
you have it good. I went to Hell because I slept around without a
thought of consequence or real feeling about any of the women I was with. I
broke up two marriages that I know of, talked a girl into getting an abortion
because it wasn’t convenient for me until I finally slept with the wrong
girl and got killed for it.”
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said, with more than a
touch of shame. I knew I’d been forgiven, but the regret of what I’d done I
don’t think I’ll ever get over. “So, let me tell you about how wonderful sex
as a woman