Knocking on Helen’s Door by Eve Langlais
4
Hands thrust into his pockets,Julio strolled the sidewalk. Others might drive to work or take the public transit system, but he quite enjoyed the exercise. The ambiance helped, too. Life teemed around him with sights and smells, which weren’t always pleasant, but it beat the never-ending ash falling in Hell.
Not so long ago, Julio had been living at Grim Headquarters, a gloomy castle-like structure in Hell where he awaited his assignments—the collection of souls. But given the Canadian guild never had much work, the Dark Lord had reassigned them to Earth as part of a new initiative called Grim Dating. Julio had gone from reaper to pimp.
At least it came with all the cable channels.
As he strode past an alley, a place where he’d done more than one deal back in his living days, he felt a tug on his cloak. The cloak. The one all the reapers wore because of their deal with the devil. Die and become one of the damned or serve as a guide for souls when death claimed their fleshy shell.
Everyone went to Hell. Even the supposedly virtuous. Apparently, protests and veganism weren’t enough to wipe clean their sins. He’d never once in his career brought anyone to Heaven. Although he’d heard of some souls being lost to Limbo, spirits that somehow never met up with a Reaper or who refused to be corralled. Their loss, as Limbo tended to eat at them, whittling away at their souls until there was nothing but an echo left.
Julio tugged at the smoke-like fabric of his cloak, only it remained stiff as if caught on something, rigid and at attention despite nothing being there. Nothing but a feeling, the kind he used to get when assigned a reaping mission. Except he was a dating specialist now. He no longer chased after death.
Still, the sense of urgency couldn’t be denied. His grim magic wanted him to go down the alley. Therefore, he did. It wasn’t as if he had anything to fear. Humans very rarely went around with swords, decapitating people, and he would heal from pretty much any other wound. However, not being keen on pain, he did approach with stealth. Once he turned the corner, he’d leave the faint light of the street for pure shadow.
His cloak rose to swirl around him, covering him head to toe as he stepped around the edge and perceived an odd sight.
A woman was huddled on the ground, curly hair spilling over her shoulders, hand raised, her mouth rounded in surprise and horror, given the sword held over her head by a massive dude. “Please,” she beseeched.
The man remained impassive, and for a second, Julio saw ghostly wings at his back. Holy fuck, the sword dude was an angel about to mete out divine retribution.
Julio hesitated. The rules were clear. Don’t engage with angels.
Ever.
And she was also definitely an angel. The more she shivered, the more her wings took shape and substance at her back, but it was the flickering halo that cinched it.
Her lip trembled as she said, “Don’t kill me. I promise to not tell.”
Big Angel sneered. “The dead don’t speak.”
Not entirely true. Damned souls had lots to say, but Julio couldn’t be sure about angels, so as the sword began its descent, despite it being none of his business, he sprang forward. His cloak snapped, revealing him stepping out of the shadows. His silver-hued stave emerged, halting the glowing blade with a scream of metal and shower of sparks.
“You dare!” boomed the angel as he whirled on Julio.
“You gotta admit, this isn’t exactly sporting. Aren’t angels all about honor?”
“She is a criminal,” Big Angel declared.
“Am not!” Little Angel hotly retorted, pushing to her knees.
Julio’s gaze briefly flicked in her direction, and Big Angel pounced, sword swinging. Julio only just managed to parry the strokes.
“Show your face, taker of souls,” hissed the angel.
As if Julio would pause long enough to take off his cloak, his only shield. “Why? So you can see how much prettier I am than you?”
“Argh!” The angel swung his sword. Julio parried with his stave. While that distracted the angel, Julio punched. Snap. Crack.
The white tunic wore a spray of blood. What do you know; angels bled red.
“How dare you!” Big Angel reeled, holding his face.
“Don’t pull the self-righteous crap with me. You were going to murder an unarmed woman.”
“Reapers are supposed to be neutral parties,” retorted the angel.
“If it makes you feel better, I won’t let her kill you either.”
The woman snorted.
“This is Heaven’s business,” Big Angel pompously informed.
“Only until you bring death into it, and according to my reaper handbook, she’s not due.”
“She will die and so will you!” The angel charged at him, expression fierce, and Julio only just managed to stay ahead of the blows.
He dropped to his haunches and swung his stave, the blow glancing off the angel’s ankle. Big Angel yelled and stumbled, but when Julio would have pressed his advantage, the angel sprang into the air and grabbed hold of a fire escape, climbing quickly until he stood a few stories overhead. He jumped off with a mighty push of his wings yelling, “This isn’t over, reaper. You will wish you’d walked away.”
“Up yours, asshole.” Julio flipped the angel off. Why not? He’d already gone to Hell, and it wasn’t all that bad.
With the fuckwad gone, Julio made his way to the dazed woman, who, under better control, had tucked away her wings and halo. She didn’t appear ready to move.
He prodded her. “Come on, Curls. Get up. Get moving. You can’t stick around. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be here when the asshole returns with some of his buddies.”
“Here?” She blinked at him. “Where is here? He said Earth.”
“Yup. Canada to be exact.”
“That’s impossible.” She touched the pavement and rose to her feet, looking around. “I can’t be on Earth.”
“Guess again.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t belong here. I have to return to Heaven. Which way are the gates?” She whirled as if she could see the pearly impossibilities. Only those allowed entry knew their location.
He stared at her. “You’re an angel. Don’t you have like a homing device for home?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been outside the nursery, and I was unconscious when he kidnapped me. I must return. You have to show me the way.”
Julio hated to burst her naïve bubble. “Sorry, Curls, but short of you dying and living a perfect life, the only place you’re going is a lot hotter.”
