The Road To Hell Part 33

I shrugged. "Depends on how much they want to out-testosterone each other..."

There was a m.u.f.fled thump from the other room, then a tinkling sound.

"Sorry," Daun said.

Paul shouted, "You sure you're a satyr and not a bull in a china shop?"

"Hey, no need to insult my parentage."

"I can fix it," Angel said quickly.

Meg and I ducked our heads low.

"So," I asked, tuning out the male grumbles from the other room, "how'd it go with your sister?"

She frowned, and for a moment her baby blue aura spiked with orange slashes: a grudge from long ago, unceasing anger. An argument with no resolution and too many hurt feelings to ever reconcile. "Not so good," Meg admitted. "We don't see eye-to-eye on some things."

My head slammed into overdrive, and the aura winked out. Rubbing my temple, I said, "Like on how your King is a-"

"Don't say it."

I smiled sheepishly. "I was going to say, a conflicted individual."

"Liar." She sighed. "Ally and I got into a fight a long, long time ago. Never really healed the rift between us."

"Still," I said, "she tried to help you. If not for her, you'd still be hanging on His throne room wall."

"Yeah. She was a big help." She paused. "She was quite keen on sacrificing you for me."

I took a sip of coffee as I mulled that over. "She doesn't like me, does she?"

"Not one whit."

"Just because you and I are friends?"

"You know how h.e.l.l is on that sort of thing."

Humph. "Some ent.i.ties have no taste."

"And some humans push their d.a.m.n luck," she said, shooting me a look. "What on Earth were you thinking, kissing Him like that?"

I felt my cheeks flame, as if to fend off the ice from His lips. "I don't know, I just... bless me, Meg, I felt sorry for Him. I thought I understood Him, wanted to show Him that I understood what it's like to try to be something you're not."

Meg pinned me with her gaze. "Two things, Jez. One, never, ever, feel anything for an Archangel but awe and dread. And two, you have to start showing your understanding in other ways than sucking their faces off. Your man won't like it if you start kissing every creature you think is in poor spirits."

"Hey," I said, affronted. "He was the one who tried to eat my face. I just wanted to be nice. Why're you yelling at me?"

"Because what you did was stupid." She sighed, sloshed her coffee in her cup. "No matter what you may think, Archangels are dangerous. They don't have emotions the way humans do. They're all ego. And they're concerned only with themselves."

"Not all of them," I said, thinking of Lucifer.

Meg frowned at me. "All of them, Jez. Some may change over time. But no matter their words, no matter their form, they're still Archangels, the first creations of the Almighty. You should stay far away from them."

I blew out a sigh, lifting my bangs off my brow. "No worries there. The only two I know personally are in dimensions other than mine. And I'm planning on staying here for the rest of my life."

"He's not going to let you live your life unaffected by h.e.l.l," she said quietly. "If you think you can just bury your head in mortal sand, you're mistaken. You need to be on your guard. He has a long memory."

My voice tight, I asked, "Why does He hate me so much?"

Meg stared at me, her unreadable blue eyes searching for something I couldn't name. Finally she said, "You offended Him."

"By running?"

"No. That was an affront that He probably would have overlooked after time had pa.s.sed."

"Then what?"

She took a sip of coffee before she replied. "You have a way of flaunting your free will as if it's the latest fashion."

"Oh please," I said, "not you too. It's not a question of free will. It's about choice. You guys make it sound like the nefarious and the celestials really can't think for themselves, which is utter bulls.h.i.t. I made my choice, and I'm just as much a creature of the Pit as you, or as Him."

"Jezzie," Meg sighed, "you're wrong."

"About what?"

"Whether from h.e.l.l or Heaven, supernatural ent.i.ties aren't meant to choose things. They have a role, and they complete that role to the best, or worst, of their abilities. But not you." She paused, stared into her cup as if trying to read the future. "If you don't like something, you change it. You act. You don't realize just how rare that ability for action really is."

I shook my head. "Choice is all around me. For h.e.l.l's sake, Meg, you gave me a choice." She looked up at me, and I met her unflinching gaze. "A month ago, you came after me, were going to drag me back to the Underworld. But you didn't take me. You asked if I'd return with you."

"And you said no," she said.

"And I said no."

"And then I led you to your death." Her face paled, and she looked like she was about to vomit. "That was one of the hardest things I ever did, in all of my existence."

My voice soft, I asked, "Why did you give me the choice, Meg?"

She didn't answer right away. I waited, sipping my coffee, my heart racing from caffeine and antic.i.p.ation. Finally, she said, "Maybe you have a way of influencing those around you. Or maybe we've always had choices, but we didn't know that we did. And maybe, knowing that we do have free will, maybe some of us aren't strong enough to handle that." Frowning, she looked away.

"Hey," I said, "you're one of the strongest creatures I know." I reached out and patted her hand. "And I don't mean in the unimaginable might kind of way. You can handle anything."

She smiled, looking sad and hopeful all at once. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"And Jezzie knows all, huh?" She laughed softly, stared at my hand on hers.

"Sweetie, I'm not going to argue that point." I lifted my cup for another sip.

She said, "I'm going away for a bit. I need to think things through. Should be back in a couple of years."

I nearly splurted my coffee over the tabletop. Bless me, non sequiturs should come with warnings about hot beverages. "Years? You're leaving your role as a Fury?"

"More like taking a long-deserved vacation. Be Good, Jez." She winked at me. "Or, if you're going to be Evil, don't get caught. Bye."

I spluttered, "Wait!"

She waited.

"You don't mean you're leaving now, right this second, do you?"

"Why not?" she asked, shrugging. "There's nothing good on television."

"But..." I floundered, trying to think of how to make her stay. Now that I had my friend back, the last thing I wanted to do was tell her goodbye. "We've got to go shopping, get you some decent traveling clothes. The toga look is so BCE."

"Thanks," she said, "but no. New York City's too expensive."

"Boston, then."

"Sorry, Jez."

"You can't go yet," I said, racking my brain for anything that would delay her impromptu trip. "I haven't asked you any of the questions I have."

She smiled, shook her head ruefully. "You're a piece of work, I'll say that for you. Tell you what-I'll answer you one question. Just one. But then no more stalling, girl. I've got an interdimensional plane to catch."

Just one? c.r.a.p. I had only about a million of them. I bit my lip, thinking. Why was the Hecate watching me? What was the deal with the auras? Why was Paul able to see supernatural ent.i.ties? Daun bonded my soul once-was I free of his influence? Would I see Lucifer again?

Those were just some of the personal questions, which didn't even graze the surface of the big-ticket items. Was Michael the worst thing for the Underworld, or would He prove to be its redeemer? Or Alecto?

And what about G.o.d-so silent and yet, if I listened to Michael, so judgmental-why was He not intervening to save His favorite creation? Was the Devil going to destroy everything?

Whose side was h.e.l.l really on?

"There's a time limit on this offer."

"Okay," I said, flipping through the myriad questions and grabbing one. "In h.e.l.l, the Rhymers and the King both called me 'half-breed.' What's that about?"

Meg smiled. "You should ask your Sire."

"Hey, no fair being mysterious. That's not an answer."

"Yes it is. It's just not the one you want to hear."

She had a point. Thinking of Lucifer, I touched my brow, felt His kiss-so simple, so gentle. So warm.

Even the butcher may turn piper.

I said, "Maybe I will ask Him about that." And about His affinity for Aesop.

The sounds of Daun and Paul arguing drifted into the kitchen, and Angel very clearly uttered a curse. Cool.

Then something went boom.

I rolled my eyes. "But at the moment, I've got too many other males on my plate."

Meg laughed. "That you do. See you."

"Meg?"

"Yeah."

"You take care of yourself."

"I will, Jez. And I promise, I'll send you some postcards."

Megaera, one of the Three Erinyes and my best friend, blew me a kiss. Then she disappeared. I tasted peppermint and old parchment on my lips-her kiss, lingering for a moment, then fading to a memory.

"Bye," I whispered, hoping she would find whatever answers she sought.

Barring that, I hoped she'd at least go on a mad shopping spree. The ancient Greek thing really was so Zeroeth Century.

One thing about dealing with supernatural houseguests: it's a b.i.t.c.h trying to lack them out.

"Maybe one day I'll earn my halo," Angel said, sighing. She was clutching a Luther Vandross CD to her chest, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. We'd learned the hard way that apple juice acted like hundred-proof alcohol in her system. It had taken Paul and me fifteen minutes to coax her down from the ceiling; she'd been convinced that if she stopped clutching the light fixture, the entire room would spin away. Daun had been no help-he'd been too busy puking up a lung from laughter. He was still chuckling, leaning against the wall and watching Angel with sinfully gleeful eyes.

"One day," I agreed, trying to figure out what would sober up a drunken celestial. Maybe some cough medicine? At the very least, that might knock her out...

"I'll earn my halo and will sing with the Seraphim," she said, a happy smile on her lips. "And I'll get my name, and it can be anything I want it to be."

Except Elektra, Peaches said. That one's mine.

I told my conscience it should consider sharing the name. She raspberried me and skulked away into the corner of my mind.

Angel started singsonging the Psalm of David.

Gah! "We've got to do something," I said, desperate.

"Maybe coffee?" Paul suggested.

"Didn't work before." Angel had finished the pot, with no effect other than being a wide-awake drunk. "I'm thinking cough syrup."

"I'll get it."

I watched him scoot down the hall. Bless me, his a.s.s looked so good in those jeans...

"So, babes," Daun said. "You going to tell your meat pie?"

I glanced at him, my guard immediately up. "Tell him what?"