Chapter 3

“There are devilish thoughts even in the most angelic minds.” --Unknown

Time on the Mortal Plane moved a little differently than it did in Heaven and Hell, so by the time Mara finished with Ricky she’d been away from Hollis City for nearly three days. She materialized in a back alley not far from her apartment at 42B Joyal Street, which just happened to be across the street from Bruisers and upstairs from Justa Cuppa, a funky little gourmet coffee shop. With a thought, her clothes transformed from jeans and sequined top into a navy silk shirt and tan pencil skirt with sensible navy heels.

She sighed. How terribly boring, but sequins and leather don’t exactly scream business consultant, and there’s bound to be a few lonely souls at Bruisers tonight. I’ve only got until the end of December, and that quota isn’t going to fill itself.

Mara considered going up to her apartment first but decided to go right to Bruisers. She took a quick look up and down the street, and after a green Mazda buzzed by, she trotted across the road and went inside. It was a Monday night so the place was starting to fill up for the football game. The Hollis City Hornets were the NFL’s newest franchise and were the featured game of the week to kick off the season. Townies were rabid supporters of their new team, and hopes were high for this year. The bar was half full and most of the dining tables were taken.

Mara took a quick look around, taking an inventory of the clientele. She loved Hollis City. Back in the day, when it was just a little town named Hollis, Joyal Street and Main Street met in the exact center of town, which was exactly two blocks west of where Bruisers was located. And crossroads were very special places. They were where decisions were made. Go east or west? Press on or go home? Propose or break up? Sign the deal or lose your chance? The energy generated by all those decisions—great and small—attracted humans, even though they didn’t know why. And where there were humans making choices, there were angels and devils.

Another quick scan of the bar told Mara that several devils and angels were mixed in and among the mortals. She recognized Frankie, and then scowled when she noticed Kemm in a far corner of the room. Two other devils were there but she didn’t know their names. When they glanced up, a momentary red shine glinted in their eyes—not unlike the glowing quality of a cat’s eye—betrayed their immortal nature to her.

If only the humans at the bar realized who they were drinking with…

A few seats down from Frankie, Mara noticed a blond man nursing a tequila on the rocks. He glanced towards the door, a split-second sheen of gold in his eyes. He frowned and went back to his drink. That is one bummed out angel. I wonder who peed in his cereal this morning.

“Hey, Mara.” Joe put a coaster in front of her and offered a wide smile.

“Hi, Joe. How’s your day been?”

“Usual stuff, can’t complain. What can I get you? Your usual?”

“Shot and a beer,” she agreed with a nod.

“Absolutely.” He took the glasses off the shelf behind him. "Where you been? Haven’t seen you for a couple days."

“Just got back from a little work trip out to Cali.”

“How was it?” Joe asked as he poured the shot of Jameson.

“Fine. Not much time to enjoy the weather, though. Had a client who was a little difficult, but it worked out. He got exactly what he signed up for in his contract.” She shrugged.

“Didn’t like his deal?” The bartender put the drinks in front of her.

“People never do, when it comes down to the brass tacks,” Mara answered. She downed the shot. “They never read the fine print, and then they get pissed at me because they were lazy.”

“They do say the devil’s in the details,” Joe said with a confident nod.

“Indeed they do.” Mara couldn’t help but smile at his comment. If only he knew he was actually saying that to a devil.

“But, speaking of raw deals.” Joe gestured up at the TV, which was showing an abbreviated report of the terrible car accident that had taken the life of actor Ricky Nottingham and his companion earlier in the week. “That Ricky guy got shafted, didn’t he? Just when his career was taking off with those action movies. He sure had the world by the balls.”

“He sure did. I bet he would have had quite the career. But your luck tends to run out when you put too much of the snowflake up your nose.”

“Coke-head? Huh.”

“I don’t know personally, but that’s the rumor out there,” said Mara.

“That’s what happens when you don’t parent your kids right, let ‘em do whaterver they want. Bet your parents weren’t like that,” grumbled Joe half to himself and half to Mara.

“I guess,” said Mara. She kept her answer non-committal—the last thing she wanted to talk about were parents. Especially her parents.

“Want anything to eat tonight?”

“Yes, I’m starving! Plus, Monday is your bacon cheeseburger and cheese fries special, Joe. How could I not have that?” Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

“You’re going to need to watch your cholesterol,” Joe warned. “You won’t be young forever, you know.”

“We’ll see about that. I have some pretty good genes in my family. You might be surprised at our longevity.”

Despite the laugh she forced into her voice, Mara felt her shoulders tense as she referenced her family. She had enough stress with her job right now. Thinking about her parents was just going to make it all worse.

It had been a long, crappy day and Duncan DeMarco was only interested in drowning himself in a few drinks and watching the game at Bruisers. He should be happy, elated even. It wasn’t every day that he got the chance to save a despondent teenager from killing herself. But she’s not out of the woods. Not with that little shit Ethan around. Duncan downed the rest of his tequila and waved at Joe. When he got the bartender’s attention he gestured to his empty glass and a moment later another appeared in front of him. He took a sip and tried to not think about anything.

Across the bar, the front door opened and, for some inexplicable reason, Duncan looked up from the tequila on the rocks he was nursing. The woman who walked into the bar was nothing short of mesmerizing, and he felt his entire chest constrict. She had a smooth walk that reminded him of a jungle cat, dark, burnished hair with red highlights, and her tan skirt curved around her hips in just the right way. She looked around the bar and Duncan dropped his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. Taking a seat, she started a conversation with the bartender while he gave her a shot and a beer, and Duncan grinned when she downed the shot in a single gulp.

My kind of woman. I wonder if she has panties on under that skirt. He flinched as he heard the tequila behind the thought. Lustful thoughts like that would get him in trouble and he really didn’t need any more. A minute later, he was covertly glancing up again.

He took a big swallow of the tequila. Do not go chat her up. Just leave it alone. Leave. It. Alone. “Ah, fuck it. My career’s in the shitter as it is,” Duncan said to the empty tequila glass. “Why not have a little fun?”

He knew he’d get dinged for cursing out loud, but at this point, he didn’t really care. Duncan walked around the bar to the open chair next to her, and as he slid into the chair, he caught a whiff of something, a hint of cinnamon and then something else. Sweet smoke, like birch wood in the fireplace.

Cinnamon and smoke? His eyes widened. Holy Mother of God. A devil?

Mara hardly noticed the blond angel get up with his drink, but knew the instant he sat down in the seat next to her when the faint smell of sandalwood with a few notes of myrrh drifted by. Seriously? Angel-Boy will totally cramp my style.

She turned in her chair, fully prepared to shoo him away, but the words never left her mouth as she found herself staring into a pair of dark blue eyes that were so they were unreal. After gawking for a few seconds too long, Mara blinked rapidly, collected herself, and gave the angel a more appraising look. Tall and slender, he had broad shoulders and a swimmer’s lean waist. His hair was dark blond, and his face was angular without being too severe. He offered her a wide, welcoming smile and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. He was utterly delicious.

“And what’s your name, Angel-Boy?” Mara asked. Paul? John? Peter? Or something silly with an –iel at the end of it?

“Duncan. Duncan DeMarco. And who are you?” he asked with a small grin as one of her eyebrows arched, the only indication that his name had surprised her.

“I’m Mara Dullahan.”

He held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mara. This a regular haunt for you? I saw you chatting up the bartender.”

A pang of fear hit Mara’s gut as she shook his hand. “You’re not here for Joe, are you?”

“No. I’m not in collections. Just chasing my monthly quota of saves,” Duncan told her.

“Grinder like me, then.” Mara didn’t quite know why, but she immediately liked Duncan, and it wasn’t just because she thought he was ridiculously hot.

“So, tell me, Angel-Boy, why are you looking so down in the dumps?” Even when he’d smiled so charmingly at her, the worry and sadness had still been evident. Duncan took another drink of his tequila.

“I saved someone today.”

“Kinda the point for you, isn’t it?”

“Guess so.” Duncan finished his drink and gestured to Joe. “Another tequila, please. And something for my new friend here.”

Once they’d tucked into the new round of drinks, Mara asked, “Why are you upset over saving someone?”

The angel sighed. “I was on my Midwest circuit and found her by accident actually. Janelle Loomis of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Poor kid’s seventeen years old and swallowed a bunch of pills because some shit of a boy has been bullying her and spreading rumors because she wouldn’t sleep with him. I found her on a park bench, near a playground she used to go to as a kid…”

Duncan sat down on the park bench. For a moment the girl didn’t notice, her senses starting to dull from the pills she’d swallowed in a desperate attempt to make all the pain go away. He allowed his energy to show through and she looked up, startled.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Duncan. Who are you?”

“Janelle Loomis. Are you an angel? I wasn’t expecting an angel.”

“Why not?”

“Because I came here to kill myself and God will hate me if I commit suicide.” She looked down, ashamed of herself.

“Sweetheart, God doesn’t hate you, but I know He doesn’t want you to do this.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” Duncan let his wings surround Janelle. The angel fire that was part of his being infused her, warming her just a little, and temporarily softening the effects of the narcotics. If Janelle was determined to die, Duncan couldn’t stop her—all humans had free will. He could, however, slow the drugs enough to talk with her and maybe—just maybe—make a difference.

“Why do you want to do this, Janelle?”

“I don’t want to but what else can I do?” She went on to tell Duncan a sordid tale about a boy she liked in school who had a girlfriend, but wanted to sleep with Janelle, too. And when she said no, Ethan spread all sorts of savage rumors about her. It hurt the angel’s heart to think that people could be so cruel to each other, but it was the way of the universe. God had set up rules, but it was up to humans to do the right things.

“I just couldn’t believe he’d flat out lie. And now when people at school look at me, I can tell they’re judging me. Some of the guys look at me and give me smiles and looks, like they’re hoping I’ll do them. Some of them look at me like I’m disgusting and unclean. One even said he was going to nominate me for the girl most likely to be a porn star in the yearbook. And Ethan’s girlfriend believes him, not me, and won’t stop slut-shaming me.” Janelle started to cry again. “I hate my life.”

It broke Duncan’s heart. “I’m not going to lie to you, Janelle. People do cruel things, they do bad things. Sometimes they do them for good reasons and sometimes for the wrong ones, and sometimes, like Ethan, they do them because they want to tear down people just for spite. But you know what, I’m proud of you for telling him no.”

“You have to say that,” said Janelle. “You’re an angel. You don’t want me having sex before I’m married.”

“It isn’t just that. Do I think you should wait? Yes. Is it likely you will? I don’t know. That’s up to you. But you shouldn’t do anything before you’re ready to. That’s why I’m proud of you—you could have just let him pressure you. There are a lot of girls who would have said yes because they were afraid to say no.”

“Tell me what to do, Duncan.” The plea in her voice was torture.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Janelle. It’s up to you. But I can give you an opinion. I think the first thing you need to do is choose to live. Then I think you should go tell Ethan to his face that he’s a fucking liar.”

Janelle gasped. “Angels can swear?”

“We’re not supposed to, but yes, we can swear. I’ll get in trouble for it, but that’s how I feel.”

“Even if I told him off, I’m just a big disappointment to everyone around me. What do I have to live for?” Janelle sighed. Her eyes drooped closed and Duncan made sure he jostled her gently with his wings to wake her up a little.

“I bet there are a lot of things,” the angel said. “What do you love? What would you miss?”

She thought for a minute. “I’d miss my family. I do love them. I’d miss Barry, my brother, even though he can be a jerk. I’d miss Kylie. She never believed the things Ethan said. We always have fun together.”

“They’d miss you, too.”

Janelle’s head drooped. “No, they wouldn’t,” she whispered. “No one has noticed how sad I’ve been. They just think I’m a moody teenager. I bet no one has even noticed that I’m gone.”

“That’s not true. Kylie’s looking for you now,” said Duncan.

“She is?”

“Yes. And so are your parents. Barry, too. Kylie saw the message you left and got worried. She went and got your folks.”

“They’ll be so angry with me,” Janelle sobbed.

“No, sweetie. They won’t be angry, I promise. They’re scared right now, scared out of their wits, but all they really want is for you to be safe and happy.”

Leaning, up against him, Janelle sighed and suddenly felt solid and Duncan’s heart lightened. Even if she hadn’t said it out loud, Janelle had decided she wanted to live. She cried harder.

“I want to go home. Taking those pills was a stupid idea. I don’t want to die. I want my Mom…” Duncan tightened his wings around her protectively. He saw flashing lights across the park and could hear voices calling for Janelle. Blue cruiser lights and red ambulance lights flashed.

“Can you stand and walk?” As much as Duncan wanted to carry her to the ambulance himself, it was against the rules. If Janelle wanted to live, she had to do the work. She tried to stand up but collapsed back.

“My legs feel all rubbery,” she whispered. More tears streamed down her cheeks.

“They’ll be here in a minute. Just hang on.”

He might not be able to carry her, but he could point the rescue team in the right direction. Duncan let his angelic energy flare for a fraction of a second, a golden-white beacon in the darkness.

“They got her to the hospital in time,” he said. “But I’m afraid of what will happen once she goes back to school.”

“Why?”

“Ethan. I know he’s going to continue to be relentless, and the fact that Janelle tried to kill herself is just going to encourage his lying, manipulative behavior. I don’t know if she’d make it through a second attempt.” Duncan’s shoulders slumped, defeated.

For some odd reason, Duncan’s suffering touched Mara. “Have you tried to set him straight?”

“As best I could, and he ignored me. But you know the rules—angels and devils can’t directly take action. We can only guide and suggest, maybe cajole, but I can’t give him the ass-whupping he deserves.”

Mara gave the angel a thoughtful look. He was so conflicted over the obnoxious boy that it was clearly distressing him, and Mara felt sorry for him.

I think my definition of “cajole” is quite different than Angel-Boy’s. “I’ll tell you what,” said Mara. “This little weasel, Ethan, sounds like he might be too cocky to fear God at this point in his life, but I bet I could put the fear of the Devil into him.”

Duncan glanced to the side. “That would be interfering, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d consider it checking out a potential candidate for my future prospects list.”

“And I’d be neck deep in shit if I asked you to do something like that,” said Duncan.

Mara offered an innocent bat of her eyelashes, and said, “I’m just following up on something I overheard. You can get great leads when you eavesdrop on angels who are half in the bag, you know.”

Duncan chuckled and knocked back the last of his tequila. He looked up at the ceiling as if he were just sharing his thoughts with the universe. “Well, the Loomis family in Milwaukee sure was lucky there was an angel around last night.”

“Cheers,” said Mara as she took a swig of beer. It will be easy enough to find this girl’s family, and then her school, and then this Ethan.

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Duncan blurted out, “You’re really pretty.”

Mara laughed, surprisingly flattered by the compliment. She gave Duncan a sly look. He was really good looking. What am I thinking? Me and an angel? No way.

A buzzing noise interrupted anything else Duncan was going to say, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I recognize that look,” said Mara.

“I really hate to say this, but I have to fly—no pun intended. Crisis of faith to deal with.”

“How disappointing. If it doesn’t work out, have your client call me,” said Mara. Her eyes flashed as she laughed.

“Unlikely. You’re not Sister Theresa’s cup of tea.”

“You never know unless you try.”

Duncan stood up but lingered for a minute. “Maybe I’ll see you here again sometime."

“Then I’ll see you around, Angel-Boy.”

Duncan’s saucy wink as he turned for the door delighted her, and Mara tilted her head, admiring how his pants hugged his backside, and bit her lower lip.

“You look like you’d rather eat him for dinner,” said Joe as he put her burger and fries down.

Mara chuckled. “You have no idea. He been in before?”

“Couple times, but not a regular like you. Seems like a nice enough guy. Quiet for the most part. Get you anything else?”

“Just some water, thanks.” Mara picked up a fry that was loaded with cheese and shut her eyes as she ate it, savoring the flavor. Food was something she loved about the Mortal Plane, and Joe put a touch of hot sauce into the cheese. Not enough to burn but just enough for a little kick, and it was one of Mara’s all-time favorite meals.

Despite what people thought, both angels and devils actually did need to eat, drink, and sleep when they co-existed with humans. Not nearly as much as the humans, but it was still a necessity from time to time, and to make herself less conspicuous, Mara followed the human routine of eating and sleeping regularly. After a large bite of her cheeseburger, a happy sigh slipped out of Mara but her appetite soured a moment later when her rival, Kemm, thumped down in the chair Duncan had been sitting in.

“I’m eating,” she said with a sigh.

“Those cheese fries look good,” said Kemm. His hand inched forward.

“I will stab you with my fork if that hand moves another inch,” Mara warned him.

“Such a bitch,” he muttered.

“Something you want, Kemm?”

“Looking a little cozy with that angel,” he sneered.

None of your damn business… “What, I can’t entertain myself? You can have a pretty funny conversation with a tipsy angel. But you’d need a sense of humor to know that.”

“You’d be just the type to go soft hanging out with an angel.” There was a predatory gleam in Kemm’s eyes that Mara didn’t like.

“Whatever. You’re still going to lose out at the end of the year.” Mara took another bite of cheeseburger and ignored Kemm until he got up, glowered at her, and stomped off.

Two bites later, Mara finished her dinner and leaned back in the chair. Kemm was breathing down her neck this quarter; it had been a while since they’d been in such close competition. She was going to have to close, and close big, if she was going to shut him up once and for all. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

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