We passed rustic rooms with soft carpets covering hardwood floors, and fireplaces crackling with merry warmth. Tall windows let in the light of Heaven, but it was so much softer within the Throne. The scent of fresh baked bread permeated the entire place, and I immediately wondered who Jerry's baker was. Did a special angel bake God's daily bread, or did Jerry himself get his hands doughy?
I was so stunned—and so consumed by thoughts of baked goods—that I didn't notice we had stopped, and I walked into Odin's back. Re steadied me from behind, but no one said a word. They were too focused on the room before us; where Jerry and one of his angels were having a heated conversation.
“What do you mean; you don't know?” Jerry raged; sloshing some of his wine out of his goblet. “We have to discover who is riling up the angels against that bastard child of my wife's.”
I could feel Luke's tension from where I stood, but the Devil kept his mouth shut. Luke—ironically—had the patience of a saint.
“I'm sorry,” the angel said, “but the parchment the Virtues received doesn't have any traces left on it for me to follow.”
“Well, we know that I didn't send it,” Jerry growled. “So, that's one option down.”
“Perhaps Lucifer?” The angel suggested.
“That fool would cut off his arm before he put his precious son in danger,” Jerry hissed. “And his demons are more loyal than hell hounds. It's one of ours; I'm certain of it. And I'm really fucking tired of my own people betraying me.”
“They probably don't see it that way,” the angel said gently. “They might believe they're being loyal by taking this opportunity to eliminate the bastard Death.”
“This is not loyalty!” Jerry raged. “Luke will bring Hell to Heaven again if this continues; not to mention the allies he's accumulated. We'll be wiped out; all of Heaven destroyed.”
“Lucifer wouldn't dare destroy the Seventh Heaven,” the angel scoffed.
“He wouldn't have to destroy the territory,” Jerry snarled. “He could kill all of us, reclaim it, and then reform it into whatever he wished.”
The angel went pale. “What should we do?”
“Notify the Host that any strike against the Angel of Death—be he retired or not—is not condoned by God,” Jerry said. “And set a watch over that fucking bastard. Make sure none of our angels go after him. If they do, apprehend them and bring them to me immediately.”
“Yes, Sire!” The angel started to stride to the door.
We all lurched out of his way.
“And Remiel,” Jerry stopped the angel.
“Yes?”
“Send word to Lucifer; I want a meeting.”
“You what?”
“You heard me!” Jerry roared. “Get that no good, son of a whore into Heaven right away!”
“Yes, Sire!” Remiel rushed out of the room as we flattened ourselves against the walls.
After a few seconds, we reached out and clasped hands again. I tried to walk away, but was pulled back in place.
“Wait,” Odin whispered.
We all waited and watched Jerry carefully. Odin was right; it could have all been a show for Remiel. But all Jerry did was curse and drink more. We finally gave up and got the hell out of Heaven.
Chapter Seventeen
“It's not Jerry?” Azrael asked in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Is that really so shocking?” I countered. “He's more of the reacting type than the acting.”
Azrael grimaced and nodded. “You're right; it would have been more shocking if it had been him.”
“It could still be Jerry,” Luke said. “I think it was a little too convenient that we happened to walk in at just the right moment to overhear that particular conversation.”
“True,” I murmured. “You think it was all an act?”
“Possibly.” Luke frowned. “But that would mean that Jerry would have to know that I was planning to sneak into Heaven, and I didn't even know I'd be doing so until right before we were heading to Hell.”
“Jerry doesn't have that good of a spy network,” Michael said. “If you heard him saying that it wasn't him, it's ninety-nine percent likely that it was the truth.”
“What about the other point-zero-one percent?” I asked.
“The only other option is that Jerry ordered the attack while he was drunk and doesn't remember,” Mike said with a grimace. “That's what happened with Abraham. We had to rush down and stop the guy from killing his own son when Jerry sobered up and realized what he'd done.”
“That's horrifying,” I muttered.
“You're telling me,” Mike huffed. “At least we reached him in time. That guy was a fucking zealot; he was lifting the knife to his son's throat when we arrived.”
“It's unbelievable what people will do for their gods,” I murmured.
“So, it was probably a genuine conversation,” Thor got us back on track.
“Most likely,” Luke agreed. “And I should be receiving an invitation soon.”
“An invitation?” Holly asked.
“Jerry instructed Remiel to bring me to Heaven for a meeting.” Luke smirked. “Jerry's terrified; he thinks I'll invade Heaven again and destroy everyone within it so I can reclaim it for myself.”
“Reclaim?” Holly asked. “It's still yours; you just let Jerry live there.”
“I know,” Luke said smugly, “and I shall remind Jerry of that fact when we're face to face.”
“I don't think you should go.” Holly frowned in concern. “It gains you nothing while it puts you at risk.”
“Good point,” Luke agreed. “I'll offer to speak with him, just not in person.”
“Okay; I can live with that.” Holly nodded.
“And I was also able to speak with the Seraphim,” Luke added with a surprisingly friendly
