Knocking on Helen’s Door by Eve Langlais
16
Julio didn’t needto look at Helen to know she’d be against the idea.
“I am not going to Hell,” she muttered obstinately.
“Then I guess you’re going to Heaven,” he retorted. “And not the nice way.”
Kourtney and Dwayne wisely took their leave.
“I haven’t sinned.” At Julio’s arched brow, Helen amended her statement. “Much.”
“It would only be temporarily while we deal with your angel problem.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem if people realized Theodore was a liar!” she yelled, finally indulging in her human half’s emotions.
“And hopefully soon we’ll be able to reveal just how crooked he is, but in the meantime, unless you want to be arrested and officially cast down, you don’t have a choice.” He didn’t point out the fact that her becoming fallen was just a matter of time whether she appeared in Heaven to defend herself or not. She’d consorted with the devil, married a reaper, and made out with him on a kitchen chair. Plus, she’d eaten meat. When would she realize there was no going back?
A better question being, why would she want to?
Her shoulders slumped. “If I go to Hell, I’ll never be able to return even if I do prove my innocence.”
“Probably not, and be honest here, do you really want to?” he prodded.
She bit her lower lip before admitting, “Not really. I’d rather stay on Earth.”
“Maybe we can find a way to make it happen. After all, you are my wife, and I do work there.”
“I would like that I think, but at the same time, I want Theodore to be exposed. He shouldn’t be allowed to hurt people.”
“I’m sure he’ll eventually get what’s coming to him.” And Julio hoped it involved his fist hitting that smug face numerous times.
Her lips turned down. “Will he? My Father, who has been complicit in Heaven, is all knowing, all seeing. And letting it happen.”
“You said he’s been imprisoned. Maybe this kind of behavior is more recent?” He didn’t know why he tried to soften her disillusion.
“Maybe.” Her shoulders rolled, but her expression remained morose.
“Come on. We should get out of here before the angels decide to ignore Hell’s lawyer and take you by force.” He held out his hand.
“I really don’t want to go to Hell,” was her stubborn reply.
“You say that, and yet you’ve never even seen it.”
“I’ve seen images. It’s brimstone and fire, torture and pain.”
He snorted. “Brimstone, yeah, ashy also, but torture and pain? That’s for those who deserve punishment. I promise, no one will hurt you.” He meant it. He’d protect her from harm.
Hesitantly, she slid her fingers into his, and he drew her close, his cloak wrapping them in a black mist as he pulled on the magic that let him travel between the planes. With the angels gone, and their dampening spell with them, he could go wherever he liked. Including Hell.
He’d meant to go to the Guild; however, his path dumped them on the shore outside of the nine rings, the departure port for arriving souls. They milled around in snaking lines, lost souls dazed by their deaths, frightened by what their future held next.
“Fuck me, it’s making us go the long way,” he grumbled.
As a reaper, Julio refused to stand in any line. He took Helen to a pier where a boat bobbed, manned by a figure in a head-to-toe cloak. A skeleton hand gripped the long pole used to navigate and fight off the Styx monsters.
Helen breathed a name. “Charon.”
The ferryman turned a faceless hood in their direction before shoving it back, showing off a freckled face with wild red hair. “Actually, the name’s Clive. Charon’s on vacation.” He smiled, and Julio almost laughed at her expression.
“How can the Ferryman of Death take time off?” she asked, glancing back at all the waiting souls.
“Because his contract says he can. Last I heard, he was sailing on the SS Sushimaker Two Earth side with his son. Which is pretty brave. Adexios holds the record for sinking boats.”
“Charon has a son.” Stated with bemusement.
“I think you’ll find Hell a lot different than you’ve been taught.” Julio stepped into the boat, and she joined him, sitting primly on the bench, hands in her lap. Her wings, usually invisible, flickered into view. It drew a few gasps and one, “Holy shit, what did an angel do to deserve Hell?”
She replied, “I dared to question.”
“What rule does that break?” Clive asked, half joking.
“It’s number two, right after honor our Father, the almighty.”
The boat set off, and despite her evident trepidation, Helen gazed around with curiosity at the water and the sky, which only lightly rained ash out over the Styx.
She held out her hands to catch a flake. “Where does it come from? What is burning?”
“It’s from the furnace that keeps Hell warm. Without it, all this becomes an inhabitable frozen wasteland.” It had happened before during an attack on the Dark Lord.
As they traversed the water, they drew attention from its denizens. Swells formed as shapes glided by, but it was the appearance of an eyestalk that startled her.
“What is that?” She leaned against Julio.
“One of the monsters. Mostly harmless,” Clive announced but didn’t add that they were harmless to the damned. The souls, already being dead, couldn’t die again, but they could be hurt—or eaten. But what about an angel?
“Do they eat people?” she asked.
“Don’t you worry, Miss Angel. I’ll keep ya safe,” Clive boasted, lifting his oar and twirling it to smack a creeping tentacle.
But while Clive fought off a big one, a tiny monster lifted itself on the gunwale and peered over with one giant bulbous eye, its skin a mottled mauve. It waved, and Helen waved back.
The baby monster gurgled, and she laughed. “It shouldn’t be, but it is kind of cute.”
The ferryman heard her. “I think it likes you.”
She smiled as she petted the slimy head and said, “I like it, too.”
And Julio liked Helen. A little too much. Something he suspected the moment the devil had suggested they get married and he didn’t argue.
Him, a perpetual bachelor, tying the knot with an angel. But the worst part?
He didn’t want a divorce.
