Straight By The Rules

“Oh.” Ari slumped in her seat.

“You’re very special to him, though,” I said. “Like a little sister.”

She continued to look disappointed. “I wish he was my dad. My real dad.”

Instead of pointing out that Tommy would have had to father Ariel when he was twelve, I said, “I know what it’s like. Growing up wondering who your dad is.”

“But you know who your dad is.”

I frowned. “I do?”

“It’s Simon? Hel-lo?”

“Simon’s not my real father.” It amazed me that she hadn’t figured this out on her own. “He’s Japanese. I’m not.” Simon hadn’t even adopted me since my mother had never been around long enough to sign the papers.

“Oh, good point.” Ariel mulled this over while she drank her Coke. “Did you ever want to find your real dad?”

The difficult question made me shift uncomfortably. When I became an adult, I’d given up fantasies about finding my sperm donor, figuring I was better off without him. However, once I’d discovered that I could not only see Heaven’s doorways but enter them as well, I’d become curious again. Maybe my father had been one of the many humans my mother had slept with. Then again, maybe he’d been supernatural.

To answer Ari’s question, I settled on a compromise. “I used to want to find him, but after a while, I realized that Simon was the best dad a girl could have. Just like you’ll realize that Tommy is a really good substitute big brother.”

“He is a good big brother,” she said, “but he’d be a really great dad.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Midway through our meal, Ariel got up to use the bathroom. The moment she left, someone slid into her seat. It seemed that the otherworld had caught up with me again.

Chapter Five

Harmony, the guardian angel who had been sent to protect my last client, gave me a grin. Even though the two of us worked for opposing camps and had once fought over a human’s soul, we generally got along.

Like me, Harmony appeared fully human even though she was a being from the otherworld. She had sensual lips, a thin frame, and wore her blonde hair short and parted on the side. Like all angels, she had unnaturally, brilliant blue eyes. Without waiting for permission, she took a French fry from Ariel’s plate and dipped it into the puddle of mayonnaise. “Mmmm. Mayo is much better than ketchup.” She added some salt.

“Go ahead. Help yourself,” I said dryly.

She took another one. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I hadn’t seen Harmony since she’d visited my flat a few weeks before to deliver a housewarming gift. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Her clear, blue eyes met mine. “I came here to warn you.”

I tensed. “Warn me about what?”

“About the fact that there isn’t a single doorway to Heaven in your flat. Without a portal, the angels guarding your family won’t be able to do their jobs properly.”

I let out my breath, relieved that her warning was no threat at all. “Why do you think I picked that apartment in the first place?” I asked her. “It’s bad enough that Helen has access to my home. I don’t want God poking his nose in there as well.”

“Don’t make light of this, Lilith.” Harmony had that stubborn look in her eyes, the one I remembered from our tangle a few weeks before. “When Helen sent the berserker into your house, you nearly lost everyone you love, remember?”

Her self-righteousness annoyed me. “Yes, but I kept them all safe without any help from an angel. Remember?”

“But you couldn’t save Tommy Lefevre.”

I sat back as if she’d slapped me.

Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”

“You should be.” I glared at her. “Besides, I did rescue Tommy! And I helped Helen win that bet against God.”

Her blue eyes blazed. “Big deal!”

“We took a holy relic out of Heaven,” I said, wanting to rub it in.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We’ve got scads of that stuff lying around. Pieces of the cross, the robes of the apostles, Moses’s staff – angels recycle it into artwork all the time. I swear, Heaven’s full of crafters.” She dipped another French fry. “I used to own this little pillow filled with frankincense that one of the wise men gave to Jesus. Oh, and did you know that in our Alpine room, there are a pair of bookends made out of precious stones from Solomon’s temple?”

I remembered seeing them on the day I’d barged into Heaven and found the angels all drinking hot cocoa around a roaring fire. Those bookends were quite possibly the most garish things I’d ever laid eyes on.

“Patrick Clerk once told me that Heaven was where good taste went to die,” I said.

At this, Harmony’s shoulders slumped, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry,” I said, alarmed. “That was a mean thing to say.” I’d never expected angels to be so sensitive about their tastes in decorating.

She shook her head. “No, that’s not why I’m upset. I’m worried about Patrick.” According to Harmony, she and Helen Spry’s former assistant had been close friends. “There’s a rumor floating around that Helen sent him deep into Hell as a punishment.”

Now, I was concerned. “Helen keeps insisting she doesn’t know where he is.” I bit my lip, thinking. “Do you suppose she reassigned him to maintenance? Today, she said that she needed more people to clean out the iron maidens.”

Harmony’s worried eyes met mine. “I’m afraid that she’s put Patrick inside one of those things.”

I hadn’t wanted to consider that possibility, but Harmony was right. Helen loved to torture people, especially people who had crossed her. And Patrick had upset her when he’d come to my rescue a few weeks before… I shuddered. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being tortured. “I’ll try harder to find out where he is,” I promised.

“Go ahead if it makes you feel better,” Harmony said. “But in the meantime, I’ll intercede on his behalf, and ask the higher-ups to investigate his case.”

I was astounded. “Would Heaven really spend resources to rescue a fallen angel?”

“Are you kidding me? Saving souls is what we do. Trust me, once I put in the intercession, they’ll get Patrick back.”

“I wish I shared your optimism.” I’d tangled with Heaven enough to know that nothing worked that easily.

She looked hurt. “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. Have a little faith.”

“What you call faith, I call wishful thinking.”

She shook her head. “No. Wishful thinking is empty dreaming. Faith is about trusting that the Master of the Universe knows what He’s doing.”

I laughed harshly. “Spare me! I don’t think that Heaven’s propaganda is going to do Patrick any good.”

“It’s not propaganda!”

So we’d gone back to our opposing camps. It figured. From the way the two of us fought, you’d think we were related. Still, I admired Harmony’s calm assurance.

I relented. “Okay, I’ll have a little faith. But only a little.” Then I grinned evilly. “Although, are you sure that you’ll have enough time to make that intercession, what with your busy schedule of sewing pillows and eating French fries and all?”

She narrowed her eyes at me as she fought not to smile.

When Ariel came back to the table, she stared at Harmony, her eyes huge. “What kind of thing are you?”

Harmony and I exchanged surprised looks. I knew that my niece had a sensitivity to the otherworld, but I hadn’t realized her perception was strong enough to tell an angel from a human.

Ari’s amazement only lasted a moment, however. When she glanced at her plate and saw that Harmony had eaten all of her French fries, she said, “Hey! I wasn’t finished with those.”

“Well, thank you for sharing.” Harmony wiped her fingers on a napkin and stood. Before leaving, she patted Ariel’s head, getting a glower in return.

Ari regarded her empty plate. “That thing has some nerve!”

“She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” I said, smiling.

Although I’d promised Harmony to have faith in her intercession, I couldn’t sit back and wait for something to happen. Instead, I spent Saturday morning investigating on my own.

I had hunted for Patrick before. Several times, in fact. However, each search had ended in failure. My succubus, who could normally locate anyone with whom I’d made a connection, couldn’t find Patrick anywhere. She always started out eagerly, but she soon got confused, like a bloodhound who had lost the trail. We’d end up pacing up and down the same hallway in Hell, unsure where to go. This time, however, I had a new plan. It wasn’t one that I was keen on, but if it led me to Patrick, I was ready to try it.

Getting to my destination, however, proved to be a problem. Although my succubus willingly brought me into Hell, she refused to lead me to the door with the red light bulb over it. “We don’t have to actually go inside,” I finally told her. “I just want to look at it.”

She hesitated.

“Please! One look. That’s all.”

Reluctantly, she led me forward, and within a few minutes, we’d reached the door with the ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ sign on it. Without stopping to think, I grabbed the doorknob and twisted. My demon shrieked, furious that she’d been fooled, but it was too late. The door was open.

A narrow stairway carved from rock descended at an alarming angle. A series of red light bulbs lit the entrance, but a few feet from the door, the passageway fell into darkness. The smell of sulfur wafted up, making me gag. From far, far below came the churning of heavy machinery, as if all the engines that created Hell were hard at work.

As much as I wanted to rescue Patrick, I couldn’t force my feet down the steps. Fear tightened my chest, and the door handle felt greasy under my sweating palm. “Is he down there?” I whispered.

My terrified succubus leaned forward, as if scenting the air. A moment later, she gave a quick mental shake of her head. No, Patrick was not below.

“Are you sure?”

When she remained adamant, I shut the door. Delilah had been right; doors marked with Authorized Personnel signs were not meant to be opened. “I think that’s enough exploring for one day.” Maybe having faith in the other side wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Giddy with relief, my demon guided me back home.

That afternoon, anticipating my evening with William, I went to the salon for a head-to-toe makeover. When I returned home, Jasmine took one look at me and said, “You’re going to a lot of trouble for someone who’s just a friend.”

“He is just a friend,” I insisted. True, I wanted something more from him, but it would make my life less complicated if Jas didn’t know that. “We aren’t a couple.”

My sister wasn’t fooled. She knew date-night prep work when she saw it. She followed me into my bedroom. “How long have you known him?”

“About seven months.”

“And you haven’t hooked up with him yet?!”

“Jas, please.” I considered the clothes in my closet. If I wore a dress, it might seem like I was trying too hard. On the other hand, I couldn’t show up in shorts and a tank top.

“What are you going to do with Ariel tonight?”

“I’m sending her to Kate’s.” Kate Popinjay was my on-call babysitter for Ariel and Grace. I depended on her quite a bit since succubi didn’t hold nine-to-five jobs.

Jas sat on my bed next to Drinking Tea and rubbed his chin. “I’m glad you’re having this man over for dinner, but you should think about making your relationship more serious. You need to get over Ted.”

“You do realize that this is none of your business.”

“I’m worried about you is all,” she said.

She was worried all right, but not necessarily about me. Although I’d repeatedly told her that my one night with Tommy had been just that – one night – she wanted me safely paired up with someone else. “I’m fine, Jas,” I promised.

“Okay. Whatever.” She stood. “But just so you know, I’m visiting Tommy tonight, then I’m sleeping over at Mom and Dad’s, so I can help with the party tomorrow. You’ll have the place to yourself.”

That was a relief. Now, if I could keep Corrine from downstairs or any other unwanted visitors at bay, I had a chance for a marvelous Friday evening.

William was due to arrive at six. At five o’clock, I poured myself a large glass of chardonnay to calm my nerves and then I went to dress. I started with black jeans and an azure Diane von Furstenberg off-the-shoulder blouse that I’d been saving for just the right occasion. Then I added a necklace and earrings. All the while, I kept my eye on the clock.

As I nervously re-fluffed the pillows on the couch and straightened the magazines on the coffee table, I realized that the otherworld mouse hole I’d discovered the day before had grown larger. Now, it was the size of a dog door. Worried, I crouched down for a better look. I almost put my head through it, but decided that was beyond stupid. Instead, I took a broom and stuck the handle through. Nothing happened.

Then another idea struck me. I fetched my handheld mirror from the bathroom and put it through the entrance far enough to glimpse the reflection from the otherworld. I wasn’t surprised to see industrial carpeting, gray walls, and fluorescent lights reflected back at me. This portal was exactly the same as every other supernatural doorway. Except that it was growing.

Having an otherworld doorway spontaneously appear in my apartment deeply disturbed me. If this kept up, my home would be overrun. I needed to ask William about it when he arrived.

As I was checking on the chicken Florentine in the oven, I felt a shiver in the air that told me an otherworldly visitor had arrived. Trying hard to suppress my eager smile, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and turned to greet my guest.

It was the wrong guest.

Delilah stood in my kitchen doorway, a paper bag in her hands. She looked around warily, as if expecting a nasty surprise. “Something smells good,” she grudgingly admitted.

“Thank you,” I told her.

She looked over her shoulder at the flickering candles on the dining room table. “Are you expecting company?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear it because you have an assignment in five minutes.” She didn’t look one bit sorry.

I was horrified. “What? Now! Can’t it wait?”

She shook her head. “Miss Spry said you are not to miss it.” I could sense Helen’s hot-eyed glare behind Delilah’s frown. “And she said to give you this, too.” She handed me the bag.

It was the tea I had wanted for my father. I could smell the smoky aroma through the paper. Getting the tea didn’t soften my temper, however. “Are you sure you can’t change that appointment?”

She glared at me. “I’d thought you’d be happy to go do your dirty work. Isn’t that what you succubi like to do?”

“No, it isn’t what I like to do,” I said. “Helen forces me to.”

Delilah blinked. “Forces you? You mean, you don’t want to sleep with all those men?”

“I don’t sleep with men. Wait – have you been reading Wikipedia?”

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “Yes.” She sat down on a kitchen chair that groaned under her bulk. “I thought that you and William had signed up for your jobs.”

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