I dont eat meat when Im in Sheol, he said.
Is that what this place is called? Isnt that another word for hell?
It means the hidden place, he said. And youre not in hell.
I stopped shoveling food in my face long enough to drink some wine, hoping it might calm me down. I looked up to realize that Raziel was watching me out of his strange black and silver eyes, watching me too closely, and unfortunately it wasnt with unbridled lust.
I want to go home, I said abruptly, pushing away the tray.
You havent had your strawberry shortcake yet, he said. Ill open the champagne
I dont want any champagne, I want to go home.
You cant. You dont have a home anymore.
Why not? How long have I been gone?
He turned his attention to his glass of wine. From New York? A day and a half.
I stared at him blankly. Thats impossible. How can my hair have grown this long in a day and a half?
You still have blisters on your feet from those shoes, dont you?
I didnt need to touch my heel to check. The blisters were still there. If Ive only been gone for a day, then my apartment must still be there. I want to go back.
You cant.
Why not?
Youre dead.
Crap, I said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ISET THE WINEGLASS DOWN ON THE table very carefully, pleased to see my hand wasnt shaking at all. It wasnt as if I hadnt suspected as muchafter all, I was no dummy. Men with wings, fires of hell, bloodsuckers. One moment I was in New York City, minding my own business, ogling a gorgeous man at the hot-dog stand, and the next Id fallen down the rabbit hole. It didnt mean I was going to give up without a fight. How is that even possible? My voice was hoarse but, apart from that, entirely calm. Id learned to hide my reactions and emotions from my mother, Saint Hildegarde.
You think you were immortal? Raziel said. Everyone dies sooner or later. In your case, it was a combination of those idiot shoes of yours and a crosstown bus.
Okay . I sat back, the meat loaf sitting like a lump in the pit of my stomach, floating in a pool of gravy grease. What were you doing there? You were there before I crossed the street. You were ahead of me at the hot-dog stand. I remember now. I stared at him, thoroughly unsettled. I remember everything now. Why? Why do I remember now when I couldnt before?
I lifted what we call the Grace. Its one of the gifts we have, the ability to make someone forget things. You wanted to remember, so I lifted it.
You should call it what it is: a mind-fuck, I said, feeling definitely peevish. What were you doing there? What am I doing here?
I was there to collect you.
I let myself melt off the seat down onto the floor, needing something solid beneath me. I wasnt going to hyperventilate. I hadnt had a panic attack since I was a teenager, dealing with my mothers attempts to save me from the devil. Guess Mom failed, because it looked as if Id gone to the devil after all, if Raziels fangs and blood-sucking tendencies were anything to go by. Calm, I reminded myself. The sound of the sea would soothe me if I could just concentrate on it for a moment or two.
The danger passed, and I sat straight, rallying. And exactly what were you
Be quiet and Ill tell you what you need to know, he said irritably. Your time was over. My job is to collect people and ferry them to the next . . . plane of existence. You werent supposed to fight me. No one does.
I was freezing, colder than when Id been lying on the wet sand. What can I say, I fight everyone, I said glumly.
I believe it. As annoying as you are, I was still fairly certain that youre an innocent, and I
Depends on how you define innocent.
He glared at me, and I subsided. I assumed I was taking you to . . . what you might call heaven. Unfortunately I was wrong, and at the last minute I became foolishly sentimental and pulled you back.
From the jaws of hell, I supplied. My sainted mother would be so pleased.
He didnt react to that. He probably knew all about my crazy-ass mother. Was probably best friends with her, being an angel. No, he was a bloodsucker as wellshe wouldnt countenance that. In a word, yes, he said.
Then maybe I shouldnt be quite so cranky with you. I made an effort to be fair. If hed saved me from eternal damnation, then I supposed he deserved his props. Then what happened? You got sick?
He looked disgusted at the thought. We cant tolerate fire. In particular hellfire, but we dont like any kind of flame. The women here have to tend the candles and fires when we need them. I got singed pulling you back, and it poisoned my blood. It would have killed me if you hadnt asked for help.
That was news to me. Really? Who did I ask for help?
I dont knowI was unconscious at the time. I imagine you asked God.
Considering that Id always had mixed feelings about the existence of God, I kind of doubted that. If God had created my born-again mother, he had a very nasty sense of humor. And God sent them? The men who brought youbrought us back here?
God doesnt involve himself in the day-to-day business of life. Not since free will was invented. But if you asked God for help, Azazel would have heard you, and hes the one who came to get us.