“Oh, my love,” Lorelei smiled against his neck, laughing a little at how good it felt to say. “It hardly seems worth worrying about now.”
* * *
Rachel sat in the second row, slumped forward with her arms over the pew in front of hers. Few normal people occupied the church, and those present came with obvious needs. They sat scattered in the pews back near the confessional booths. The mortals in the humble church could see Rachel, but not the other angels.
Grandiose entrances and praise heaped upon the Most High took up plenty of time before the hours-long discussion even began. Rachel could see the sun begin to set through the stained glass windows.
In front of her and to her sides stood shimmering, glorious winged men and women. They discussed recent events in respectful, calm and sometimes rather emotionless tones, all completely unseen and unheard by the mortals in the building.
One of those mortals, a tall, lanky young man with brown hair, quietly sauntered over to Rachel. “Haven’t seen you here before,” he said to the achingly beautiful blonde. His tone was entirely too friendly. “Are you new in the neighborhood?”
“Tell me you didn’t come over here to hit on me straight out of the motherfuckin’ confessional booth,” Rachel said flatly. She didn’t look at him.
“Uh…no, I just-”
“Are you seriously going to lie to me in a church? Right in front of the altar?”
“I, um. I. Wow. Uh…I’m…”
“You’re gonna get your ass back in line and confess lying to me just now, aren’t you?”
“…Yes?”
“Good,” Rachel fumed. She blew at a hair that dangled in front of her face as the young man carried his shock and his wounded pride back to the other end of the church. Rachel’s eyes slid to one side, where several other guardian angels silently watched the proceedings. One of them coughed and excused himself to follow the retreating mortal.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “that’s one of mine.”
“You might have gone easier on the young man,” observed the older-looking angel standing to Rachel’s right. The whole congregation of angels had turned to look at Rachel as she dealt with the flirter. Not everyone had realized at first whom she addressed.
“Oh, fuck him,” Rachel told Hannah with a shrug. At the sight of the disapproving frowns and downcast eyes, Rachel was of half a mind to tell her peers to fuck off, too.
Except they weren’t her peers. Not at the moment. Not with her wings gone and the glow of her virtue so plainly diminished. Rachel didn’t think of all that as so terribly relevant. So her language was colorful. So what? It always had been. Were her priorities off? Had she shirked a single responsibility?
Hannah, took Rachel’s dismissal in stride. She returned to the topic at hand. “The situation with Rachel’s charge has brought positive developments already.”
“More like astoundingly positive developments,” Rachel muttered.
“Let’s not get carried away,” countered a hard-bodied blond by the altar. He wore little more than white trousers, showing off a perfectly-chiseled physique adorned by faint, centuries-old scars.
“He vanquished a demon, Vincent,” Rachel retorted. “Permanently. No ‘time out in Hell’s penalty box’ bullshit. When’s the last time you did that? Any of us?”
“Caleb vanquished the demon,” Vincent corrected.
“Bullshit. Alex and his buddies delivered Gorge to Caleb wrapped up like a Christmas present.”
Vincent and the other angels turned to Caleb, who nodded. “She is correct. As I stated, Gorge was bound and greatly weakened. I served as an instrument of mortal initiative. Without them, there would never have been a confrontation, let alone destruction.”
“And how often do any of us do something this decisive?” Rachel said.
“The loss of a single corruptor is surely not decisive,” intoned a darker-skinned angel in white robes. Lawrence hadn’t been against Rachel in this discussion, but his high standards would never waver. “Gorge mattered little in the great balance.”
“No, but what mortal or angel has caused any shift in the balance at all in recent memory?” Hannah offered.
Caleb spoke up. “We would not be discussing this now but for Rachel’s actions, or deliberate inactions if you prefer. Gorge’s contracts would still stand, damning those who might now make good on a second chance. The evils of several other mortals are now mitigated by their imprisonment. Stolen savings will soon be restored to many. And at least one soul which would now be in the Pit may instead find salvation.”
“One soul,” Vincent said.
Rachel’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” she breathed.
Hannah drowned out Rachel’s words. “Yes, Vincent, one soul! One soul at a time! That is what we do! That is how it is! As it has ever been! And in these matters, many souls are touched. Many lives are altered for the better. As it has always been with this one!”
Vincent scowled. “I seek only to prevent further provocations of the Pit,” he said defensively. “The balance has been observed for a reason.”
“This is still a localized matter,” Lawrence said.
“Wait,” Rachel frowned. She looked up to Hannah. “‘As it has always been with this one?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hannah held her tongue. “It is not a matter for this discussion,” she answered with distinct softness and compassion. “We are not, in the end, here to talk about Alexander.”
“The fuck we’re not!” Rachel growled.
“We are here to discuss the broader situation-”
“Centered around Alex!”
“How much of your concern stems from infatuation?” Vincent’s tone only grew sourer.
Rachel snatched a hymnal from the bench and threw it at his face. It passed straight through his head to land on the floor behind him. Vincent looked on with feigned indifference, but she knew him better than that. She used to know him much better. He had always been stern, but he had never been such a… such a buttmunch!
Vincent didn’t hold her attention, though. Rachel glared at Hannah. “Tell me!”
Hannah looked at her a bit sadly. Vincent saved her from having to speak. “None of the good this boy has done merits the danger that it has incurred, or soon will,” he said. “It falls to us to protect him, yet the demands of the balance tie our hands. This situation must end.”
“And end the good that his actions bring?” Hannah shook her head. “I tell you, Vincent, he would not have it. I do not think he would shy away from whatever danger his choices might bring. He never has,” she added, her words tinged with pity and pain. She saw the demanding questions in the wingless angel’s eyes and looked away.
“These dangers are far beyond mortal threats,” Lawrence pointed out. “If he keeps antagonizing the Pit, he will face their wrath. His death would be of unimaginable horror.”
“Gorge was a mere corruptor bound into human flesh,” Vincent said, dialing back his tone. “They will eventually come for him without such subtleties. They will come without disguise, and he will know them and fear them for what they are.”
“What, without human skins to protect them? I’d pay good money to watch that fight,” Rachel muttered.
Debate continued, but Rachel stopped listening. She looked at the stained glass windows, trying to guess what Hannah hinted at, and why she wouldn’t say it straight out.
It was in that moment, staring out into the darkness, that Rachel began to glow brighter.
Conversation stopped. The other angels looked on with some surprise. Vincent and Caleb both slightly winced. “Rachel,” Lawrence said, calling her attention back to the conversation.
“What?” she asked absently.
“Look at yourself.”