Page 44

Chapter 43

Wholesale Slaughter of Archangels

SJ

“F or the last time! Let me the Home out of here!” I roared, charging at the trio of figures, vaguely visible through the mist. I struck at the swirling fog, and just like the countless other times I’d tried this since I’d walked through a portal that I should have known wasn’t mine, I hit the invisible barrier between me and my captors. The barrier that dulled all my senses … and my ability to conjure portals.

I was well and truly caged.

Clang ! The deafening gong sounded again, and I was thrown backwards … again … My body screamed with pain … again.

“What is this?” I demanded, pushing myself from the ground. Every time was harder than the last. “Where am I?”

The blurry males on the other side chuckled. “We’ve told you already, Son of Lucifer. This is Heaven.”

I growled. No words, just a furious rumble from my throat.

“Boss …” Beezle whimpered, nudging at my leg. “Maybe we … are in Heaven?”

“Yeah, Boss, it’s not … like … the most outlandish thing that could have happened to us,” Bub added.

“No!” I snapped, rubbing at my shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the last several attempts to break out of this weird little mist-filled elsewhere they were keeping us. “I refuse to believe that I’ve somehow been duped by Her machinations.”

Turning towards the shadows on the other side of the mist, I sneered. “If you are so smug that you have captured the Prince of Hell, and imprisoned me in Heaven, prove it! I want to be brought before Her!”

The smug chortling that met my statement had my horns straightening in fury.

“ Why is that so funny?” I demanded, crossing my arms and then promptly uncrossing them when I realised how much I resembled a spoiled, petulant child. “You cannot hold me here, I have responsibilities! Just … let me out! For badness’ sake—please!”

I was supposed to have been making Soul Tokens for Hellen. What would she have thought when I hadn’t returned to Hell for … however many days these sadists had kept me locked up in their cloud prison?

What if she thought I’d absconded with Jemma …? What if she was seeking Jemma out now, to retaliate? I had no doubt that Hellen would decide my disappearance was cause enough to renege on her end of our bargain.

I staggered to my feet, ready to take another charge at the mist. I had to get out of here! I had to make sure that Jemma was safe.

I ran for the translucent barrier.

No gong. No pain. No flying across the creepy, foggy space.

Instead, I sprawled face-first onto a plush, cream-coloured carpet. Three sets of large, masculine feet stepped into view as I moaned out my pain.

“You used the magic word, Son of Lucifer!” one of them boomed down at me. “Isn’t it fun, what good manners get for you?”

I rolled onto my back, hissing at the carpet burn on my bare chest.

“You okay, Boss?” Beezle asked, worry in his bark.

“No … yes … I don’t know,” I grunted, sitting up, taking my first good look at my captors.

Shit.

“Bloody angels,” I winced, peering up at three pairs of wings, feathers so white they were almost blinding. Their Y-fronts gleamed with the same shimmer, drawing the eye. I sneered, refusing to give them the satisfaction of gawping at their nethers. Not that they had anything remarkable packed into those tightey-whiteys anyway.

They smirked down at me. “I’m Mike,” the one closest to me, with golden hair that glowed with a bloody halo above it, said. “And this is Gabe,” he gestured to the one with brown hair, “and Raphe.” The black-haired one waved. Aside from their hair colour, there was no possible way to tell them apart. They all had the same smug, punchable faces, the same glimmering skin. The same lean builds.

“You could take ‘em, Boss,” Bub muttered. “You’re broader than all three of them put together.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth, eyeing the three of them with distaste. “But I just need to get out of here, and I think wholesale slaughter of archangels is likely not going to help my cause.”

Mike cleared his throat, that sneer making me almost change my mind about wholesale slaughter. “You mentioned wanting to see Her? We’ll take you there now, if you’d like.”

I did not like. I wished with a fervour that pulsed in my chest to be anywhere else right at that moment. And that was exactly what I was going to do, now that I was out of their stupid mystical prison.

Shifting onto my side so my back was to the three, I rotated my wrist, as surreptitiously as possible, to conjure a portal.

Nothing.

I coughed to cover my surprise, moving my hand more vigorously.

Still nothing.

I was about to shift my body again, hoping it was just my tiny movements causing the problem when raucous laughter burst out behind me. It set my teeth on edge. I clambered to my feet with a hiss of pain, eyeing them with immense dislike.

“Did you actually think that was gonna work?” Gabe guffawed, his mirth-filled face just begging to be punched. I clenched my fists but did nothing more. Who knew how many others might be lurking? I had no idea of the scope of Heaven. If it was anything like Hell, well, I might be bigger than these three, but I’d be very swiftly outnumbered if they called for reinforcements.

“He truly thought he was going to just portal out of here!” Raphe cackled.

“She is the only one who can create portals out of Heaven,” Mike explained with that awful smirk plastered all over his stupid face. “So, I’ll ask you again. Would you like to meet with Her?”

“Might be the only way to get outta here, Boss,” Beezle yipped.

“Fine,” I grumbled. The angels parted, and I got my first good look at where I was now that the mist had cleared.

I peered around at what looked like the lobby of a very swanky human hotel. Cream carpet, plush velvet lounges, thriving indoor plants and large windows that let in some form of light that seemed completely unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

At the far end of the room, behind a reception desk completely inlaid with mother of pearl, was a double set of gold, handle-less doors. They reminded me of the doors to the elevator box thing that I’d used in the hospital the day I’d visited Jemma there, although these were much more impressive.

Bitterness rose like bile in the back of my throat. “I thought the gates were meant to be pearly. Not the reception desk.”

Mike shrugged. “We’ve modernised. Done some renovations.”

I snorted. “Clearly, stealing souls that should have been Hell-bound has been a very lucrative venture for Heaven, to be able to afford this sort of luxury.”

Mike chuckled, like I was a toddler who had just adorably mispronounced a big word. “Perhaps the surrounds just match the ruler …”

My fists clenched by my sides, but I couldn’t entirely deny it. Had my father’s personality, and those of his predecessors, shaped what Hell looked like today? But no, that couldn’t be right. Hell was always meant to be a place of cruelty, misery and torture. And Father and Hellen seemed completely at home there, in a place I’d never truly loved.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“It’s Heaven …” Gabe’s eye-roll was practically audible, the sarcasm oozing from his mouth.

My teeth ground together. “I know that. I meant this room, specifically.” I spoke slowly, like I was talking to a very stupid person. Angels were notorious dullards, from what I’d heard.

“This is where every soul comes when they’re entering Heaven,” Mike explained.

I blinked. “But I do not have a soul. I’m a devil.”

Raphe laughed heartily, clutching his sides as he shook.

“What is so funny about that? From everything I’ve seen of souls, they’re nothing but trouble for the owner.” The words caught in my throat. Jemma’s soul had only been trouble for her because of my machinations. And if I didn’t get back to Hell fast, she might still be in trouble, thanks to me.

“He really has no idea, does he?” Raphe chortled to his brothers as if I wasn’t even there.

“Silence.” Mike glowered a warning at the still-chuckling Raphe. My stomach twisted.

“What do I have no idea?—”

“Pete!” Gabe interrupted, shoving me towards the pearly desk. “Quit hiding back there, and do your job!”

The sound of someone spitting liquid erupted from behind the desk.

“S-sorry, Gabriel!” a tremulous voice stammered, and a small, ancient, human-looking male with white hair that stuck out in tufts around a bald pate popped up. He was wearing oversized glasses and a white robe that was stained with a nasty brown splatter down the front with whatever he’d just spat all over himself. He patted at the spot, his eyes darting towards me. His mouth gaped into a black, horrified slash, his eyes, already magnified by the thick glasses, going enormous.

“N-never thought I’d live to see the day …” His hands shook, but he scuttled out from behind the desk. He was tiny—shorter than Jemma by quite a margin. The Hounds stood chest-high on him. When he caught sight of them, he gasped.

“N-not the Hounds of Hell, too? W-what is this place coming to?” He pressed one weathered hand to a panel beside the golden doors, which slid open, revealing a mirrored box. “Devils walking the hallways of Heaven, their smelly p-pets in tow! And Sh-She says, ‘No soul-weighing required. Just send h-him straight up.’”

“We don’t smell!” Beezle growled indignantly, snapping his teeth in Pete’s direction. The little man yabbered in fright and scurried back behind his desk.

“Soul weighing?” I rumbled, rounding on the three angels. “You can’t possibly tell me that every single death-row murderer She allowed in managed to scrape by on the weight of their soul!”

“I-it’s Her system,” Pete mumbled, wringing his hands. “I’ll b-be the first to?—”

“Off you go!” Gabe interrupted, shoving me towards the gilded doors with such force that I almost tripped. “Top floor. You have questions? Don’t ask this snivelling little Saint. Ask the boss lady direct.”

I stumbled towards the doors, catching my first glimpse of myself in … however long I’d been here. I looked frightful. My hair was a lank mess, my skin was bleached to an odd burnt orange colour, and my horns were dull.

And I was about to go toe to toe with God Herself, the vindictive bitch, looking like I hadn’t slept in a week. Which could very well be the case, because I’d lost all track of time in this place.

“You got this, Boss!” Beezle’s words were encouraging, but the side-eye he gave to Bub did not fill me with confidence.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” I muttered, stepping inside the mirrored box. The Hounds trotted in behind me. “I need to get home, or Hellen might …” I couldn’t even finish that sentence, although my brain completed it for me, and I shuddered.

I had to do this to keep Jemma safe. I turned, spying the three angels, looking uncharacteristically pensive as the doors slid shut.

And then I could do nothing but cling to the wall with sweaty palms as the elevating box soared upwards.

“I think my balls got left behind!” Bub complained as pressure built in my ears, clawing at my brain.

“Mine too,” I grated, closing my eyes and thinking of Jemma. Safe, un-harassed by anyone Hellish. Finishing her university studies, going on to be able to earn money helping those sweet little girls at the hospital.

Continuing to enjoy making her little ferret costumes, knowing her income didn’t rely on it. Perhaps even taking on that deal with those women. Meeting some man—a real, human man—who shared her interests and had no urge to destroy her soul. Falling in love with him over dates that wouldn’t end with her hunched over a toilet bowl …

Marriage, and offspring, and a pretty little house somewhere outside the city, somewhere with a picket fence, and a reading nook, and sunlight. Not a place lit only by the fiery glow of infernal lava. Somewhere with a garden and a cool autumn breeze, not a blast of scorching Hell-wind. I could see her sitting in the sun, giggling over one of her pornographic novels, her three … no, five children cavorting merrily around her. Her husband would …

The doors whooshed open, revealing nothing but white-gold light. I swiped at the wetness on my cheeks, cursing myself for a fool. What a weak position to be facing God down in, with tears still leaking from my eyes.

I stepped out, squinting blindly into the glare. I couldn’t see a thing; it was worse than staring directly at the midday sun.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day!” a melodic, feminine voice crooned.

“Where are you?” I demanded, turning, my eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness. Not swiftly enough for my liking. “What do you want from me?”

A bell-like laugh rang all around, giving me no clue as to where she was in all this confounded light. “Want from you? Why, is it not natural for a mother to wish to meet her long-lost son?”