The Devil's Angel (The Devil's Assistant Series Book 4)

The Devi's Angel - Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

Due to the battle that had taken place in London, our technical capabilities were down to a laptop and an intermittent internet connection. No matter how many calls I made to the network provider, the chances of it being fixed before the New Year arrived were slim. No one really cared about whether you had a good internet service when the city was still being rebuilt. I couldn't blame them. Their priorities were definitely in the right place but it didn't make our situation any less frustrating.

It was how we all found ourselves in the lobby of what I had cutely named Angel HQ. Not that there were many angels walking around the halls these days. In fact as I glanced around the lobby, I couldn't spot a single angel or nephilim. All of the people appeared to be human or mostly human.

The absence of the angelic kind was obvious to anyone who had been to Angel HQ prior to their retreat back to the heavens. There was just something lacking.

It had been a few years since the battle at Stone Henge. A Halfling born from Mephistopheles tried to bring about a new world by stealing an ancient device and trying to exert his control over the world. The death toll had been high and as a result God had called his children home to help guide the souls to their final resting place.

With the death and disaster still lingering in the air, I sometimes wondered whether they would be allowed to return to their duties among the living.

Glancing around, I noted that even the décor had become muted. It was still beautiful but every was just less.

Stalking up to the reception desk, Castiel at my side the young man behind the desk startled from his bored slump, his body suddenly alert. Recognition was apparent as he stared up at me, his blue eyes wide. Under my gaze he ran a hand through his vibrant red hair and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I told you the hat was pointless," I hissed to Castiel, whipping the baseball hat from my head and attempting to pat down my hair.

Shrugging casually, his lips twitching against the smile, he replied. "It was merely a suggestion. You didn't have to do it."

"So you say. All of this attention is maddening. I can't even go to the shops for a pint of milk without being ambushed." I muttered, barely resisting the urge to pout.

"Can I help you?" the red head asked, finally gathering the courage to open his mouth. His voice cracked over the words making him seem much younger than he appeared.

"We're here to see the Madame. She's expecting us."

If possible, the pale skinned man got even whiter at the mention of the Madam. It was understandable – the woman was terrifying. I was sure she could run Tartarus single handed for Hades without breaking a sweat. She was what most would call a ball buster. She took no prisoners.

"Of course, let me just check her line." His voice squeaked again, his hand taking on a faint tremble as he pressed the keys on the phone. "You can go on up, take the private lift to the top floor."

Standing, the young man gestured to the door behind him with a lofty wave of his hand.

"I definitely didn't know about the private lift." I whispered, leading Castiel through the doorway.

For a moment I thought that we had walked into a broom cupboard, the space small and more than a little claustrophobic. The walls were painted a generic magnolia and the only light came from a dim bulb which buzzed overhead. In the poor light I almost missed the set of doors which granted us access to the lift. They had painted so they blended in seamlessly with the dim interior of the cupboard.