Мишель Роуэн - Angel with Attitude

She nodded as she listened and wrote. She remembered that. She’d always found it interesting, fascinating even to meet her assignments and help them adjust to their new and perfect afterlives—and more than happy that she hadn’t had to live on Earth as a human, too, after hearing their stories—but to say she took pride in it . . .

Well, she did feel she did a very good job. And, hello? Angel-of-the-month award?

But, was that pride?

Geesh. It wasn’t like wrath, or anything. Pride was such a tiny little deadly sin. Barely even worth noticing. Hardly something to warrant such a miserable punishment.

“It’s not all that bad,” Garry’s words cut through her thoughts. “You’ve always seemed so enamored by the humans, interested in the lives they’d lived . . .”

“It doesn’t mean I wanted to become one,” she cut him off. “Like, ever.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before the whole pride thing.”

“Garry,” she said, and hated that there was a distinct whine to her voice now. “You have to do something. If I was too proud I’ll make up for it. I don’t want to be human. It’s horrible. You have no idea what it’s like down here. It’s rainy, miserable, desperate. I’m sick, too. There’s phlegm. There’s no phlegm in Heaven. Phlegm is a very bad thing. And . . . and I’m scared.

Garry, I’m so scared and lonely and—” She broke off.

And there’s a really hot demon who wants to add me to his collection.

Seraphina pursed her little lips and Garry spoke. “There’s nothing I can do. The scroll’s official.”

She frowned. “Has anyone been keeping track of my good deeds? It’s not just to kiss up, either. I’m like a machine of goodness. That old lady I helped cross the street the other day?

That should be worth something. I still have the bruise from where she hit me with her cane.

But she made it to the other side in one piece and that was a very busy road! And, come on, the whole killer whale tank thing? Was that your idea? I won’t hold a grudge, I promise!”

“There are worse punishments than being human, you know.”

She sighed. Her words were wasted on him. “Easy for you to say.”

“Hey, maybe in seventy years when you’ve helped enough old ladies across the street you might be forgiven. When you, you know, die. Other than that, I’m not seeing any other way for you to get back here.”

“This is not helping. I want to speak to the boss. Is he available? Can somebody get him?”

Seraphina’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? He is very busy, you know. Besides, speaking to fallen ones is not something He would be interested in doing. Ever.”

“Can’t you just make an exception? For me?”

“No way. Not a chance. Look, Val, got to go. No offense, but I can’t spend all day talking to a fallen one. My review’s coming up.” Seraphina’s eyes began to close.

“Wait . . . Garry, please . . .”

Her eyes snapped back open. “Yes?”

Valerie sniffed, and it wasn’t from only the head cold anymore. Her eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. “Please, there’s a Tempter Demon after me. He wants to lure me to Hell.

You have to help me. How can I make him leave me alone?”

A grin spread across her face. “A Tempter? For real? I’ve heard stories, and all, but never seen one. Is it true that they’re incredibly good-looking?”

“Garry!”

“Sorry. Look, here’s the drill. Demons exist for the same reason angels exist—to maintain the balance between good and evil. I can’t do anything about it. Nobody can. It’s all up to you to resist this demon no matter what he tells you. Do so and he’ll eventually give up.” Seraphina blinked. “Although, it’s just a theory.”

Val pressed her lips together, hard. She wanted to beg, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was about to say something else, anything else to keep the connection between her and Garry open, but Seraphina closed her eyes and she knew that was it. It was over.

She exhaled, a long shuddering sound.

Seraphina blinked her clear blue eyes, shaking the remainder of her trance away.

“Thirsty!” she yelled.

The door opened, casting a beam of light into her eyes, which had become accustomed to the darkened room. The silhouette of Becky, Seraphina’s redheaded, business-suited assistant entered, carrying a can of 7Up with a pink bendy straw. She handed it to the little girl who snatched it away and took a sip. Becky glanced at Val.

“I trust everything went well?”

It was thanks to Becky—though perhaps thanks wasn’t the right word—that she’d been able to make her appointment with the highly booked child psychic. Appointments with Seraphina had a four-month waiting list. She’d met Becky through her brother, Brian—an amateur wizard who owned a local comic book store where she’d gone to buy an issue of Batman after liking the television show so much. He’d taken an immediate liking to her. Kind of like when a dog takes a liking to someone’s leg, as she’d witnessed happen to poor Reggie the other day just outside of the motel. But Brian was fairly harmless, and his sister just happened to work for Seraphina. Opportunity presenting itself in mysterious and, in this case, geeky ways.

Val stood on shaky legs and tried to give Becky an equally shaky smile. “Not as well as I hoped it would.”

“That’s too bad.” Becky glanced at the girl with a look that could only be described as fearful.

“I’m so sorry. Was she being difficult?”

“No, she’s very good. It’s just that—”

“You,” Seraphina said.

They looked at her.

“You.” Seraphina nodded at Becky.

She forced a smile. “Yes?”

Seraphina held up the can of pop in her tiny hand. Her fingernails were painted bright pink.

“This isn’t diet. I wanted diet.”

Becky sighed. “But, you don’t need diet. You’re not on a diet.”

The little girl narrowed her blue eyes. “Are you arguing with me?”

“No. I’m just saying that—”

“I want diet.” She stamped her foot. “Get me a Diet 7Up now.”

Becky shrugged at Val. “Duty calls.”

“NOW!!”

She practically jumped as Seraphina shoved the full can of pop at her and, without another word, scurried out of the room. Val turned her wide-eyed gaze toward the little girl whom she decided just might be related to Lucifer himself.

Seraphina smiled up at her. “You’re an angel.”

Val’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“An angel.” She plunked her Powerpuff Girls-attired self down on the plush sofa in the middle of the room. “But you’re not anymore. I have an angel Barbie doll, you know.”

“You know I’m an angel?”

“My Barbie has big wings. White ones. With sparkles.”

“How do you know I’m an angel? Did you hear everything I said to Garry?”

“Who’s Garry?” She scratched her arm absently.

Val crouched down in front of the girl. “This is wonderful! I haven’t been able to tell anyone else, you know, because they’d think I’m nuts. But for you to know I’m an angel—I feel so relieved that somebody knows. This is so wonderful! What do you know about angels? Can you help me out? Do you know how I can go back to Heaven?”

“What color were your wings?”

Val frowned and grabbed her notebook, shuffling through the pages for a moment. “Actually, I don’t think I had wings. Nope”—she tapped the page where she’d written “No Wings”—“I didn’t.”

She looked disappointed. “Why not?”

Her frown deepened as she searched her brain for the information she knew she possessed and then shuffled forward a few more pages in her notebook. “Um . . . not all angels need them.