Six weeks later
Nathan shut the door of his restored Pontiac GTO. Tall, lean and relaxed, he was the kind of man who commanded the world around him with the authority of the Roman centurion he once was, three thousand years before. He walked to the curb where a blonde woman sat sobbing in front of a house party still raging at three in the morning. Behind her paced a nervous man in his late twenties, one whose expression was a mix of guarded hopefulness and irritation.
Looking from the sobbing woman to the man, Nathan stopped.
“This is your emergency?” he asked. “A crying girl?”
“Well … I … god, can you just help me out?” the man replied.
He’s gotta be a newbie. Nathan was expecting the world to be ending, based on the text he’d received that summoned him here. He opened the trunk of his car and pulled the knives hidden in his waistband free, tossing them in the back. He always kept one on him, usually strapped to his calf, but the rest he wasn’t going to need to deal with a sad woman and her incompetent caseworker. Instead, he grabbed a black satchel out of his trunk, slammed it shut and then approached the curb.
It was a warm desert night in Tucson, Arizona, the kind that made him want to walk barefoot instead of wearing his loafers. He knew two things without a doubt and how to master the classy-casual look was one of them. The downside: it meant not going barefoot. He lit a cigarette, debating whether he could lower his standards enough to put on some sort of semi-stylish sandals.
After a deep drag, he faced the man behind the crying girl.
“What’s her sign?” he asked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“S… scorpio,” the crying girl answered.
“All right, newbie,” Nathan said to the man. He set down the satchel beside the girl. “The only reason I’m not leaving is because she’s a fellow Scorpio.”
There was a sigh from the other man, who raked a hand through his hair then rubbed his face. A young, recently appointed spirit guide – a cross between a glorified medium and supernatural case worker, Joey appeared to be no older than Nathan and was ready to panic, a sign of how new he was to his duties.
“What’s your approval rating?” Nathan asked curiously.
“Sixty five percent.”
“So no one will be surprised you couldn’t handle this. I’ll take it from here, Joey.”
“Can I watch?”
“I don’t give a shit.” Nathan sat down next to the sobbing woman.
He took a few puffs of his cigarette, listening to her cry. She was a first gen, an angel incarnated for the first time as a human. She had a soul, a finite life, emotions, none of which an angel possessed when in its pure energy form. She was in her mid-twenties, old enough to realize what angels soon discovered when they became human: that there was evil in the world.
“I’m glad this is it,” he said to Joey. “Things have been weird lately. Lots of messes to clean up. This is a nice break.”
“I haven’t had to clean up any messes,” Joey admitted.
“How long have you been in the corps?”
“Two months,” answered Joey. “Messes. You mean like demon possessions and stuff?”
“That and a rash of first gens with extreme breakdowns. Pretty much every first gen has a meltdown when they realize they can’t go back to the Other Side anymore and are stuck in the human world. But lately things have been weird.” Not to mention Scott getting killed. First time for everything. He shook his head. “A lot of guides are overwhelmed. I’m the only one allowed to work freelance, but at this point, I need a clone.”
“I don’t want to be you. This is bad enough.” Joey motioned to the woman.
Nathan opened his bag. “Here’s your first tip. These are all you need, Joey.” He held up two items: a cigarette and a snow globe filled with glitter rather than fake snow. “First gens love anything that glitters or sparkles. Reminds them of home. You can buy these globes in bulk straight from China for fifteen cents a piece.”
“N…nate?” the woman asked, peeking through her fingers at him.
“Yeah.”
“I want to go back.”
“You can’t, baby,” he replied softly. “You signed the paperwork. Remember?”
Her sobbing grew louder. Nathan didn’t blame her, but after so many similar interventions, he found it hard to care much anymore. He held the cigarette out to her.
“Have a smoke. It’ll calm you,” he directed.
“N…no! I can’t … body … sacred!”
“You reek of alcohol. A cigarette isn’t going to do much more damage,” he replied, amused.
She didn’t budge.
Joey snorted, as if satisfied Nathan hadn’t cracked the girl yet.
Nathan held out the snow globe. He shook it, and glitter tumbled within the sphere, reflecting in the streetlight.
His second area of expertise: angels. He could spot one – first gen or ten thousandth gen – a mile away, and he knew how to handle them in their human or energy forms.
He shook the globe again, waiting for the inevitable –
“Sparkles,” the girl murmured. She took the globe from him.
Nathan lit the cigarette for her and passed it over.
She took it, too. She was calming, transfixed by the glitter. She took a huge draw on the cigarette, coughed, then shook her head.
Nathan glanced at his watch. The drug took about two minutes before she’d start to feel it, though if drunk, it might be faster. He sat quietly, waiting. The girl was turning the snow globe slowly, her blue eyes on the tiny flashes of color tumbling within the glass.
“Are you going to talk to her?” Joey asked.
“In a minute,” Nathan replied. “Can you get the red bag out of my car?”
Joey hesitated, on the verge of refusing. Too curious to know how the master spirit guide worked, he relented and went.
Nathan watched him. If this was the worst the new kid had to deal with, it was a damned good day in his book.
The first gen giggled.
Nathan glanced at her. She was glassy-eyed and grinning. She began waving the dome.
“Oooohhh … rainbows!” she said, mesmerized by something only she could see.
He took her cigarette before it fell from her fingers.
“All right. Tell Nate what’s wrong,” he said. He relaxed and leaned back, enjoying the warm night beside the hallucinating ex-angel trying to capture invisible rainbows with her hands.
“I want to go back,” she said in a sad, faded voice.
“Understood. What else?”
“Did you know my toes are too big?”
“No.”
She pushed off one sandal to show him perfectly proportioned feet and studied them critically.
“He said they were big.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Ex.” Her sorrow was clear. “I just wanted him to be happy. Why are humans not happy like angels, Nate?”
“Because they have to deal with people who think their toes are too big,” he replied drily.
She sighed.
“You want my relationship advice? Don’t try to make him happy,” Nathan replied. “Be yourself. If that’s not good enough for him then find someone else.”
Joey was staring at him from the car. The young spirit guide’s eyes slid to the girl in a look of such longing, Nathan rolled his eyes.
“But he makes me feel the way sparkles do,” the ex-angel lamented.
“You didn’t get in a fight about your toes. What made you break up?” Nathan asked.
“I want kids, and he’s an Aquarius.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nathan muttered. “This is sounding like every break-up I’ve ever had. I need those sparkles more than you.”
She giggled once more.
“Aquarius men are notorious for not wanting to settle down. But you knew that when you got into this relationship. So, if he won’t commit, he’s not for you. Got it?” Nathan waved at Joey. “Red bag.”
Joey bent to reach into the car and withdrew the red bag, staring at it.
“You’re a pizza delivery man?” he asked in disbelief.
“I like pizza,” the woman said.
“You gotta make an honest living somehow. It’s not like the Other Side pays us to do our job,” Nathan replied. “Bring it over. They’re too drunk inside to notice if a few pieces are missing.”
Joey shook his head. Nathan assessed the new spirit guide had no problem with money, if his Rolex was any indication. After years of saving money, Nathan didn’t either, but he’d vowed never to let himself fall into the rut he spent a decade in when he first started. He held a steady job or two, moving on when he was ready to try something new.
“Don’t you think she should try to talk to her … ex?” Joey asked.
“No,” Nathan said. “Either he accepts her or he doesn’t. Kids are part of her dream, and Scorpios are the most stubborn sign and most emotional. She needs that deep, mutual level of commitment to feel comfortable.”
“Yes,” the angel agreed. Her voice was still faint, and she kept looking at the rainbows with a sigh.
“Maybe he’s just not ready,” Joey argued.
Nathan pulled a pizza from the bag. He set the box on the sidewalk and motioned for Joey to join them. After a moment, the other spirit guide knelt near the pizza.
The angel set down her snow globe and reached for the food.
“Maybe he’s not supposed to date first gen angels either,” Nathan pointed out.
Joey froze then looked away.
“This is so hard,” the ex-angel said. “None of this is in the manual.”
“There’s no manual that teaches you to be human,” Nathan said firmly. “I don’t care what they tell you the first time around.”
“What manual?” Joey asked. “I’ve never seen one.”
“Ten Commandments,” Nathan said. “They’re guidelines for the newly incarnated.”
“Mushrooms.” The former angel giggled again, staring at her pizza. “They’re talking to me!”
“Eat them before they start walking,” Nathan advised.
The ex-angel stuffed half the piece of pizza in her mouth. Nathan laughed.
“What the hell did you do to her?” Joey demanded.
“LSD and glitter,” Nathan replied.
“You drugged her?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you have a ninety-nine percent approval rating?”
It’s negative ninety-nine. “I figure out what’s wrong and fix it. How I do it isn’t really important,” Nathan said with a shrug. “You okay, baby?” he asked the angel.
Her cheeks bulging with pizza, she nodded.
“So how do you fix this?” Joey asked.
“I don’t. You do. You either make her happy or you walk and have her reassigned,” Nathan replied.
“But you said you’d take this case.”
“You forgot to mention you were personally involved,” Nathan said. “That changes everything. Consider this a freebie. I calmed her down. You clean up your own mess.”
Joey’s gaze lingered on the angel, who was content with her pizza and snow globe.
Nathan wolfed down a couple slices then lit another cigarette, his gaze going to the clear sky. He wasn’t joking about the girlfriends demanding kids. He fell into the same pattern with each woman he dated. He met Ms. Right, settled down in what he thought was a relationship whose boundaries were mutually understood. Then one day, she demanded kids and marriage.
He walked. He always did. His work as a supernatural caseworker and protector of incarnated angels was priority. Women didn’t understand that he wasn’t able to settle down, because he was temporarily immortal. At some point, his boss on the Other Side would give him the option of retiring as a human.
If things keep getting weirder, it won’t be anytime soon, he thought to himself.
“You gonna be all right?” he asked the woman.
“The glowing elves want me to follow them,” she said.
“Just stay out of the street.” Nathan reached into his satchel and withdrew a small bottle of painkillers. He tossed it to Joey.
“What’s this?” Joey asked.
“She’ll have a headache tomorrow.”
“Is this legal?”
Nathan ignored him. He stood and studied the first gen one last time. She’d hate him in the morning, when she found herself having to deal with Joey, the ex who didn’t like her toes or her dreams. But that was the way of things. She was in no danger, and Joey had to learn.
Nathan picked up his delivery bag and pulled out the pizzas.
“C’mere, honey,” he told the ex-angel.
The incarnated angel tucked the snow globe in her pocket. She stood, wobbled and then smiled.
“Take these inside. Give me a minute with your guide.” Nathan handed them to her.
She took the boxes and walked towards the house, stopping to sing to rainbows or elves or whatever else she saw.
Nathan extinguished his cigarette with his heel then met the gaze of Joey, who still appeared unsettled.
“You don’t date first gen angels,” Nathan started.
“You just drugged her, and you’re going to tell me what to do?”
“You can do whatever you want, except for dating first gen angels. They have to learn. The best way to learn is not to have someone standing between them and reality.”
“Let her flail around and get hurt?” Joey asked, crossing his arms. “Sounds like a compassionate guide.”
“You can be compassionate with humans.”
“I can’t walk away from her.”
Nathan smiled. “Then get used to the idea of kids, Joey. You can’t have it both ways.”
“You make it sound so easy. It’s not that cut and dry,” Joey objected.
“Not my problem. In a domestic dispute, I’ll always side with the former angel. Their intentions are usually purer,” Nathan said. “Now, I’ve got some pizzas to deliver.” He took the carrier and paced to his car.
“Nate, wait!” Joey called.
“I’m on the clock, Joey. Deal with it.”
“You know they’re right what they say about you.”
“I’m bitter but effective?” Nathan asked, hand resting on the metal handle of his car door.
“They said you’re a cold-hearted bastard and a selfish dick.”
“Close enough.” Nathan opened his car door and dropped into it. He understood Joey’s anger wasn’t really directed at him but at the fact the young spirit guide had screwed up by dating a first gen – and knew it.
Nathan closed his door, started the engine and drove away.
Selfish. It was the second time in as many days he’d been called that. His life was dedicated to helping lost, scared or endangered incarnated angels. He went whenever someone called, wherever it was, without batting an eye at the time or expense or personal toll it took to get there and make sure said angel or spirit guide was okay. So he’d lost the ability to feel … he still did his job.
How the hell was he selfish?
His cell rang. He tapped the Bluetooth device on his ear.
“Nate.”
“Pedro has a pick-up for you,” said the familiar voice of Wendy, the first gen who ran communications between the Other Side and the spirit guides in the human world. “Says there’s a problem.”
“When is there not a problem?” Nathan replied.
Wendy laughed, unable to see the darkness of the world the way Nathan did.
“Is it local?” Nathan asked.
“Sort of.”
“That means no.” Angels and first gens didn’t like bad news, either. “Where am I going?”
“Virginia.”
“When?”
“Your plane leaves in ninety minutes.”
Nathan muttered a curse. There was no time to pack, and ducking out in the middle of his pizza delivery shift meant he was going to have to find a new job upon his return.
“You know you need to book these things at least four to six hours out,” he told Wendy, not for the first time.
“You’ll make it, Nate. I have faith.”
He rolled his eyes at the cheerful ex-angel’s tone.
“Your car is in your normal spot at the airport,” she added. “Your usual stuff is in the trunk, and we rented you an apartment. Directions are –”
“Wait, an apartment?” Nathan echoed. “I’m not picking up and bringing back?”
“Not this time. Pedro is sending someone to brief you. We have … issues.”
“You mean, I have issues.”
Another giggle. “Are you at the airport?”
“Um, no. It takes twenty minutes to get there. I’ll be lucky if I can catch my flight.”
“Not lucky, Nate, blessed.”
“Right. I’ll let you know when I land.” He hung up.
Nathan guided his car down to the south side of town, the opposite direction of any of his pizza deliveries. It was close to dawn on the other side of the country, which meant he needed to sleep on the plane so he was ready for a full day of angel-directed madness. With no concept of time or money and an inability to see problems, angels like Pedro, who had been around since the beginning of time, made for horrible managers. The upside to an angel boss: even if Nathan screwed up, the angels only saw what he did right. They were the epitome of everything pure and good, incapable of seeing evil, wrong, or mistakes.
He reached the airport, parked, and leaned over to the glove compartment. He was a simple man, despite his penchant for designer clothes. He could travel with no more than his little black notebook, cigars, a couple of snow globes and his wallet. He could buy clothes and toiletries when he landed.
Dumping the pizzas in a trashcan, he trotted into the terminal, determined to catch his plane.