Elliott Kay - Good Intentions

“With her master dead and his lands in chaos it will surely not be pleasant,” Lorelei murmured. “I went to great lengths to spend as little time in Hell as possible.”

Vincent held his blade over Lydia’s head. Her body began to glow with a white light. She looked to Rachel and then to Lorelei and Alex, staring hatefully before she faded away.

“Though I fear,” Lorelei added, “that one such as Lydia may be ruthless enough to turn all that time to her advantage.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Alex asked.

“This city is under his jurisdiction, at least as far as the Hosts are concerned,” Lorelei explained, nodding a bit toward Vincent. “He is in no mood to listen to anything we have to say.”

As they spoke, they became aware of an awkward hush in the cathedral. Vincent paused after the last light of Lydia’s banishment faded, gazing around the chamber. Alex thought he looked like someone who expected applause and heard only crickets. “He’s Rachel’s ex, by the way,” he said while Vincent returned to his spot by the altar.

“Yes,” Lorelei nodded. “I can tell. Poor girl.”

“Can we get on with the rest of this?” Vincent asked irritably. “We all have much to do. The balance between Heaven and Hell has not been so tenuous in an age. All of the chaos sown by Rachel and these others has resulted in untold turmoil among our foe to an end that we cannot predict.”

“Y’know, dude,” Alex dared to speak up, “if you’ve got a problem with the mess we made, you could always go to Hell and do something about it yourself.”

Scattered, choking laughter followed. Vincent’s face reddened once more. Rachel turned to look at Alex, grinning in spite of her apprehension. “I love you,” she admitted.

“Then you do not contest or deny the nature of your feelings for your mortal charge?” Lawrence asked her.

Rachel looked back at him and shook her head. “Hell no, sir. I’m in love with him.”

“And of Lorelei?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then paused. She looked back to Lorelei. “Her, too.”

Lorelei’s expression softened. Her hand squeezed Alex’s. Rachel turned back to face the council above her and shrugged. “That’s all,” she said.

There was another round of glances and nods at the altar. “Alexander has significant awareness of and connection to the supernatural. The protection of the Hosts is no longer warranted,” Lawrence said. “He has the succubus, Lorelei. He has wit and courage, which have repeatedly withstood the forces of the Pit. Our numbers are stretched too thinly to spare protection for those who have such resources. Alexander will no longer walk under the watchful eye of a formal and dedicated guardian angel.”

Rachel’s eyes fell shut. She stood very still. When she looked up again, she pointedly gazed at the altar, ignoring Vincent’s inevitably smug expression.

“Though each guardian angel inevitably comes to love her charge, that love must never become romantic,” Lawrence went on. “Further, it must never be pursued as such. The nature of Heaven is kept a mystery to mortal man and woman for a great many reasons. A guardian angel is a companion, but a silent and unknown one. A guardian angel’s heart is full of love, but it is as the love of a protector and guide, not a husband or wife.

“The revelation of Rachel’s existence to Alexander was beyond her control. To have direct and open contact with him after that revelation was understandable and even wise. Yet to take up such a relationship as the two now share crosses the necessary distance between protector and protected, as well as that between Heaven and Earth.” He looked to Rachel gravely. “Rachel, as a result of your actions, you are removed from the ranks of the guardian angels.”

She looked down at the floor at her feet. Alex wanted to shout out in protest, to call them all out for being just plain shitty, but Lorelei’s grasp on his hand kept him quiet. Rachel’s head hung low. The cathedral fell silent enough to hear the angel sniffle.

Rachel raised her head again. Her voice cracked as she said, “How else may I serve?”

“We will come to that. With this matter closed,” Lawrence continued, “there is another that must be resolved. Vincent, hand over your sword.”

“What?” Vincent blinked.

Lawrence turned to face him. “Hand over your sword, Vincent,” he repeated.

“I don’t understand.”

“You do,” said Hannah. “Under your dominion, this city has become a cesspool of supernatural and infernal evil. In over a century as its guardian, you have utterly failed to check the growth of all manner of darkness in Seattle and its environs. That such a situation could develop without any of the rest of us realizing it is an embarrassment to us all. The actions of these three and their mortal friends testify not only to their courage but to your ineffectiveness.”

“It is no longer appropriate that you hold dominion over this city,” Lawrence said with slightly less emotion. “Hand over your sword.”

The muscular angel glared at Lawrence and Hannah in disbelief. At length he did as he was instructed. The sword appeared again in Vincent’s hand, bright with flame and the glowing orb of its pommel. He turned the blade parallel to the floor as he held it out to Lawrence.

The dark-skinned angel did not actually take the blade from Vincent. Instead, he held one palm over the pommel until it came free and floated up into Lawrence’s hand. The blade diminished, burning neither as brightly nor as large. Lawrence stepped back.

“Rachel,” Lawrence said, “please come forward.”

With her tears under control once more, Rachel walked up the steps to stand before Lawrence at the altar. The other angel seemed to focus not on her, but rather on the glowing orb in his hand. Rachel knew that the orb would likely have to be brought to Vincent’s replacement. At this point she was fit for little more than courier duty anyway. She risked a glance at her lovers by the aisle. She saw only support and warmth. Whatever happened to her, she still had them. It would be enough, Rachel decided. It would be more than enough.

“Hold out your sword, Rachel,” Hannah instructed.

Rachel froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You are fucking shitting me,” Rachel blurted out before the altar in front of the assemblage of her angelic peers.

Lawrence allowed her a small, faint smile. “No shit,” he told her. “Hold out your sword.”

She reached out her hand. Long tongues of flame floated up from it, coalescing into a burning blade that she held parallel to the floor. Lawrence held the bright orb to the blade’s pommel. When he pulled his hand away, the orb remained.

“Though a mortal typically knows nothing of his or her guardian angel, the deeds of the charge reflect as greatly upon a guardian as do the angel’s own actions,” Lawrence began for all to hear. “The work of a guardian angel is much like that of a parent. It takes more strength to let the child stand, stumble, fall and recover on his own than it takes to hold that child’s hand and guide him through every moment. We often credit the child’s independence to the parent’s wisdom.

“Rachel served as a guardian angel for only a single week. We all know what has transpired as a direct result.

“Yet perhaps most important of all of the accomplishments of Rachel and her charge is not the destruction of evil, nor even the freeing of mortal souls from Hell’s grasp, but rather the presence here and now of Lorelei. One of Hell’s demons braves the painful light of Heaven simply to offer support and comfort to one she loves.

“Again, Rachel’s decision to pursue a romantic relationship with a mortal violates much of the mandate with which we are entrusted,” Lawrence said. “There can be no doubt of that. Yet even in Heaven it is difficult to argue with success.”