Wings, Flings, and Demon Kings || COMPLETE

Chapter 16: Friends in Unlikely Places

7:30 P.M.

Archangel Ramiel's residence

Acting like an angel didn't come naturally to Azerath, for all my attempts at tutoring him. But he made an effort. He really tried.

"Let's run through it again," I said. "Suppose an angel says something mean to you. Suppose he insinuates something terrible about your character."

"Then I definitely don't smack him over the head with a giant ball of mana... and instead smile nicely and turn the other cheek," Azerath sighed.

"What are the Seven Heavenly Virtues?"

"Working hard, being nice to people, giving things to poor people, not seducing randos, not bragging about how nice you're being, not drinking alcohol—despite how much you'll need a drink after obsessively following the other virtues." He frowned. "Oh, and not strangling your beloved for forcing you to recite the virtues for the fifth consecutive time."

My heart fluttered at the word 'beloved', but I forced my brows into a disapproving frown. "Strangling is definitely not allowed in Heaven," I warned. "And if you think reciting the virtues five times is bad, just wait until you meet Archangel Ramiel. He made me recite them thirty times the other day."

Azerath groaned.

It was afternoon by the time I was satisfied with Azerath's progress. He'd gotten quieter as the day wore on, and I wondered if he was regretting his decision to renounce Hell and come to Heaven. Perhaps he was just tired. I knew I was. My human body wasn't designed to operate on so little sleep. And it didn't help that I'd recently been stabbed.

I'd already sent an email to Archangel Ramiel, telling him I needed to meet with him right away. His reply said to meet him at Body Distribution at three in the afternoon. Perhaps I should have been clued in by how normal his email sounded—not suspicious or disapproving at all—but at the time I was too relieved to think much of it.

When Azerath had finally succeeded in reciting the Heavenly Virtues with a minimal amount of snark, we took the subway to Body Distribution together. My wounds still throbbed, but the painkillers Sanmu had provided were enough to keep me on my feet. Azerath seemed to perk up when we neared our destination. "Hang on, I recognize this place," he remarked, as we disembarked our train and started up the steps. "Hell's Body Distribution Unit is nearby. It's probably because we use the same elevator system to get to Heaven and Hell. I heard Sanmu say that once."

Otherwise, he was quiet as we swung through the large revolving door that led to Heaven's Body Distribution unit.

But others made up for his silence. As we strode into Body Distribution, Angel Foretti gasped and dropped his coffee. Angel Simeline jumped and flung her clipboard halfway across the room. And Angel Aria, who was in the process of transferring her spirit into a human body, accidentally missed and deposited herself into a potted plant instead.

"I'm here to see Archangel Ramiel," I said, trying to ignore the flurry of activity that Azerath's entrance had provoked. If anything, my words seemed to spark an even greater panic. Angel Simeline ducked behind the counter with a squeak, and Angel Foretti almost tripped over his desk chair in his haste to reach the door.

It felt like hours, but it was probably only minutes, before the door swung open, and Archangel Ramiel entered, stately and imposing, his white wings trailing behind him. I gulped as I took in his outfit. He had donned his full Archangel regalia, the same clothes he wore for the stateliest Heavenly occasions, and I wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign.

I forced myself to stand upright, tall and proud, like an angel who's just converted a demon should look. It was difficult with my injuries. "Archangel Ramiel," I said, with more confidence than I felt, "this is Azerath, and he wants to renounce Hell and turn good."