Lucian Divine(8)

“Well, you know…” I smiled and opened my eyes wide. “You know, Evey. Come on?”

She shook her head, looking around. “What? No, I’ve no clue.”

“You know I could be sent”—I pointed at the floor and whispered—“down there.”

“Oh, I see. To burn in the fiery depths of hell for an eternity with your cousin Lucifer?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So there is a hell?”

“I can’t be sure, but who would want to risk it?”

“This is fun, Lucian. You have quite the imagination. My life is complete now. I’ve met an angel who sits in bars, binge drinking and playing stupid songs on the jukebox.”

I chuckled. “I was bored. This is the second-most boring job in the universe, especially since I started following your ass around.”

“What’s the first? Wait a minute, did you say following my ass around?”

“The first most mind-numbingly boring job is being God of course. You’ve created everything”—I waved my hand back and forth, gesturing around the room—“so you know how it’s all gonna end. What’s the fun in that?” I shrugged. “Oh, and I follow you around because I’m a guardian angel. I’m your guardian angel.”

Now Zack was hanging from an imaginary noose outside the window.

For a moment, it looked as though Evey was thinking about something serious, like perhaps she believed what I was saying or at least considering it, but then she laughed sarcastically. “So am I your only one?”

“You mean pain in the ass? Yeah, you’re the only one. They’ve been giving me a light caseload lately.” I shook my head, still in disbelief that my centuries of fucking penance hadn’t gotten me off probation.

“Why is that?”

“Nothing.” I didn’t feel like sharing my stupidity with her at the moment.

“Tell me, I’m dying to know.”

“Are you really dying, Evey? I’m very literal.” I shook my head. “I know you’re being sarcastic, so I’ll keep my career woes to myself, thank you very much.”

Her expression softened. “I’m actually curious to hear what you’ll come up with.”

“It wasn’t even my fault. One of my souls—Joan.” I sucked air in through my teeth. “It didn’t end so well. I had too many to handle at the time. I did fail her, but in my defense, she was an even bigger pain in the ass than you are. Now I’m on a probationary status, which makes an already boring job barely tolerable.”

“I’m totally appreciating your quick wit even though I know you’re completely full of shit. So this Joan woman, what happened?”

“It was a long time ago. She kept going over my head.” Even I was beginning to find humor in what I was telling her.

“Oh, haha! That’s hysterical. Joan of Arc, I get it. You should write this stuff down. Okay, so how long are you going to keep up the act?”

“It’s not an act, and honestly, Evey, I’m a little disappointed in you right now… in your faith and your bad choices tonight,” I said, looking pointedly at her.

“You are a strange person. I’m kinda hoping my roommate will come home soon, but you can just leave if you want. How were you wasted an hour ago—you could barely talk or walk—and now you’re sitting here making up elaborate stories? I thought you’d pass out the second you hit the couch.”

“Oh, well that’s easy to explain. My metabolism is a lot faster than yours. I can eat and drink a whole bunch.”

“Are you bragging, or are you saying you have some special angel quality that allows you to drink more alcohol?” She smirked.

“I’m not human. I don’t sleep—I can’t. I wish I could because you bore me to tears and I have to watch over you.”

“Uh huh. So you don’t sleep, but you get wasted?”

“There’s no rule about drinking and flying last time I checked, but I wouldn’t be much of a guardian angel if I slept on the job, now would I?”

“You’re a bit arrogant and completely insane, but you are definitely creative, I’ll give you that. Do your wings sprout out of your shirt when you take flight?”

“No, they’re always there. You just can’t see ’em.”

“I bet they’re big, huh?” She rolled her eyes.

“They’re huge. Did you see the size of my feet? Thirteens.” I pointed at my boots, bit my bottom lip, and wiggled my eyebrows. “All the other angels say size doesn’t matter, but wait till you see me in action.” I was still a little drunk. I was flirting with her. I was despicable.

“Great, so my guardian angel is a perverted narcissist.”

She’d left out that I was a drunk as well, which was a relief.

“Not a pervert, just stating the facts. Anyway”—I stood, took a step back, and waved my arms around—“all of you agnostics want proof, so I’ll give it to you.”

I was tired of hiding, lying, sneaking. I wanted her to know. I wanted to push the envelope and see if Mona would swoop in and banish me. The truth was that I couldn’t watch Evey anymore, not when she was dating, falling in love, hanging out with moronic apes. Mona refused to reassign me—she wouldn’t even let me plead my case, so I was done. I had been pushed too far, driven to alcoholism.