Page 6 of The Morning Star
Actually, they could do a lot, they just didn’t realize it yet, and I was plotting a few little things that might help them wiggle free from angelic control. The angels might be breathtakingly powerful by human standards but they were underestimating the humans. And they were also downright idiots when it came to living in corporeal form. I mean, laser eyes aren’t all that scary when your wings get stuck in the revolving door and you’re reduced to sobbing helplessly and begging for passersby to help free you.
That had been one of Rafi’s angels. He’d laughed at the guy, then told him if he did the laser eyeball thing again, he’d be spending the next century with his wings stuck in that revolving door.
“Is he coming back tonight?” I asked Nyalla because Gabe had become a regular overnight visitor in my house. I really hated the angel, but Nyalla loved him so I put up with his griping about my furnishings, and my Lows, and my slovenly habits which only got worse every time he complained. It was a contentious situation, but we both tolerated each other because of Nyalla.
I was painfully aware of her short lifespan. I was sure Gabe was too and that was the reason he was at my house pretty much twenty-four seven when Nyalla was there. I’m not sure who would be more devastated when she aged and died, me or Gabe. The angel checked her every night as she slept, healing the slightest illness, correcting even a hint of a problem. I knew this because I’d taken to doing the same every now and then and I recognized his energy signature on different cells in her body. Between the pair of us, she’d live to be a healthy two or three hundred years old, maybe more if we got meticulous about it. That sort of life expectancy would be a miracle for a human, but a tragedy for an angel.
At four billion years old, Gabe would only have a few hundred years with the love of his life, and then he’d go on to live billions of years alone. I hated the guy, but the heartbreak of that situation made me want to give him a hug.
Hugging Gabe. I’d have to remember to do that the next Ruling Council meeting. He’d totally flip.
A group of Lows wandered in from the guest house and jumped into the pool, splashing and playing with Lux while Snip went inside for drinks. I did a quick head count, because I was never really sure how many of my household were here at any given time. Six in the pool. Probably another dozen in the guest house. That wasn’t too bad. There were times lately when I’d had over three hundred crammed in both houses, the stables, and in tents across my field. With the situation in Hel somewhat stabilized and the protection of my household mark here among the humans, they were beginning to feel more confident, to relax and actually enjoy their lives without the constant fear of death.
Although, from what was going on in the pool, death by drowning was still a distinct possibility. Lux was climbing on their backs, shoving their heads underwater and laughing as they flailed and frantically tried to come up for air.
“Hey,” I shouted to the angel infant. “Don’t murder my household members. I might need them later.”
The angel pouted and rolled off to the side, letting the demon go. My Lows all loved Lux, which seemed really weird given that he was an Angel of Order. Even weirder, he loved them back, treating them like they were a bunch of older siblings. Was this how things had been in Aaru before the war fractured us apart? Did different angels actually enjoy each other’s company, celebrate and honor the differences between them? It seems to have taken a newborn angel to show us that the rift between us was one of our own making—one that could easily be dissolved if only we made the effort.
“Mistress?” Snip stood beside my lounge chair fidgeting, a six-pack of sodas cradled in his fingerless hand. “You had a call on your mirror. I answered it.”
I blinked at him in surprise, because lately no one seemed to use the communication device that connected me to Hel. For a few months my household had lost the Hel-side mirror, then without a steward, I’d not had anyone to convey messages. Snip was now my defacto steward, but he was on this side of the gateways more than he was in Hel lately.
Actually, he tended to spend a lot of time hanging out by the gateway at what used to be the Columbia Mall. I think he liked to hotwire the construction equipment and drive it around. Beatrix hadn’t complained to the any of the Grigori about his constant presence, so I just ignored it.
“Leethu?” I’d been searching for the succubus for a while now, and was beginning to worry that the dude who had been summoning her had her locked up in a salt circle somewhere.
“No, Mistress. Barf is still searching for her. He thinks she may be somewhere in Texas.”
“What’s up then? Did Sinew get lost in the dungeon again? Are they out of beaks?”
“No.” The Low squirmed. “Doriel has requested an audience with you.”
Doriel? I hadn’t heard from her since she’d last left Aaru. “When does she want to see me?”
“Tomorrow.”
Fuck. “I’ve got a Ruling Council meeting tomorrow. Can you call back and ask her to reschedule?”
Snip’s eyes bulged. “You want me to ask the Ancient Doriel to reschedule?”
“You want me to ask a council of archangels to reschedule?” I countered.
“Yes.” Snip gave me a hard stare that was completely out of character for him. “She says it’s important.”
I took my sunglasses off so he could see my epic eye roll. “Then tell her to trot her ass across the gate and meet me here. I’ll let her have a bedroom in the main house and order pizza. With any luck the Ruling Council meeting will be done by suppertime. If it’s so important, she can meet me at my house around six tomorrow night.”
At this point his eyes were nearly out of their sockets. “Mistress, Doriel is an Ancient. It is difficult for her to get across the gateways without being noticed. She is not the sort of demon to risk crossing if she doesn’t have to.”
“Well, she has to.” I eyed Snip. “Distract or bribe Beatrix so she can get across. Or tell Beatrix that it’s really important to your boss that you let this Ancient through the gate, and there’s a big promotion in it for you if you pull this off.”
He perked up. “There is?”
“Promotion to best-steward-ever, that’s what I’m talking about.” I knew Snip could get it done. Beatrix was as sour as a condensed lemon, but she had a sweet spot for this Low. In his own fumbling, adorably awkward way, he’d managed to soften the gate guardian up. If he asked this of her, she’d do it. She’d bitch and moan and probably call me later and complain, but she’d do it.
Snip puffed out his chest and grinned. “I’ll be right back.”
He set the sodas down and vanished back into the house while I closed my eyes and tried to take a nap to the sound of splashing and squeals.
