Diabolical (30 page)

They’re all starstruck. Bridget is annoyed that she can’t get her waterlogged phone to boot so that she can take a picture.

Then Michael says, “Lucilia Castillo Lehman, stay out of trouble from now on.”

Her reply is a sharp “Yes, sir.”

“Michael has come to take Kieren’s soul to heaven,” I explain.

“No,” he replies. “I have not.”

I’m outraged. It’s not my place to question, but there must have been some kind of administrative mix-up. “That boy is a hero. He is one of the finest —”

“Silence!” Michael thunders. “Quincie Patrizia Morris, stand back.”

“Forget it,” she replies. “If you’re taking him to hell, I’m going, too.”

The archangel’s hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “I do not take anyone to hell.” He pauses. “Except occasionally heaven’s warriors, but only to rescue wayward angels and troublesome mortal girls who do not leave Fate well enough alone! At least lately.”

“He’s telling the truth,” I assure Quincie. Which doesn’t explain why Kieren’s translucent blue soul isn’t already cradled in the archangel’s arms.

But I just resolved to be more trusting of my superiors, to have more faith. Apparently, it’s a work in progress.

“Let it be known,” Michael begins, “I did not file the requisition on this particular holy act. Despite the fact that, traditionally, only an archangel may file it. Despite the fact that it bore my official seal.” He kneels, placing one hand over Kieren’s heart and raising the other toward heaven. He begins to glow, radiating warmth.

For a moment, the Light blinds us all.

When it fades, Kieren’s body is still here, but the archangel and, for that matter, the dragon, are gone.

“What did he do?” Bridget exclaims, reveling in the experience. “What was that?”

Kieren moans. He begins coughing, sputtering. He rolls to his side and throws up water.

Quincie gasps and bends to rub his back. She starts laughing, a little hysterically.

“He’s alive!” Willa cries. “He was dead, truly dead, and now he’s . . . not.”

“An archangel can do that?” Lucy asks me. “Bring someone back to life?”

“Not with his own power. This is coming from higher up. The Highest. What just happened here, that was Michael acting as a conduit for the Big Boss.”

Ha,
ha
! Somebody filed a freaking Z-777Z on Kieren and initialed the Lazarus provision. Somebody capable of bullying, sneaking, or otherwise invading the Office of the Archangel. It might be Joshua, but my money’s on my girl, my love, my Miranda.

IT’S A HALF HOUR PAST SUNSET.
Sanguini’s is filling up. I’m in the manager’s office with Quince, doing homework.

Tonight all proceeds will be donated in Mitch’s name to local organizations serving the homeless. It’s been just over two weeks since Zach struck Mitch down on the lakefront. Only three days ago, halfway across the country, the archangel Michael raised me from the dead.

Almost as miraculous? I beat my family home from Kona. Barely, but still. I plan to tell my parents the whole story. After my thirtieth birthday.

Bridget is home in San Jose, and Lucy is back in Dallas. Evie moved in with her girlfriend in Montpelier. Meanwhile, Freddy has taken Willa under his wing. She’s living in an apartment over his new boyfriend’s garage. Freddy’s training her for a position at Sanguini’s Catering. She’ll transfer to Waterloo High next week.

We’re already moving on. But before we left Vermont, Zach, Quince, and I drove back to Scholomance Prep. We erected markers in memory of Vesper and Nigel.

For a while, we were a pack. A better, tougher pack than the Wolves I met in Michigan. We, the Scholomance students. I’ll always miss them.

“Hey, Wolf man,” Quince says. “What are you thinking about so seriously?”

“How sexy you look in those overalls,” I reply. Enough Dante.

I shove our English textbooks off the desk. I lift up Quince and indulge in some serious animal passion. I’ve been given a second chance at life. I’m gonna enjoy it.

AT HALF PAST ELEVEN,
Kieren and Quincie finally come out of the locked manager’s office. Kieren announces that he’s starving. Yani, at the hostess desk, replies that she’s had one cancellation, in case they want to eat at a table like real guests.

At one of my tables. They’re happily underdressed.

Quincie is sipping warmed porcine blood from a wine glass.

Kieren naturally orders from the predator menu. He’s already inhaled the carnivore taster — wild boar prosciutto, venison blood sausage, duck liver pâté. His crimson drink, cranberry herbal tea. Nora is a stickler about not serving alcohol to minors.

I drop off the main course: little javelina chops with rosemary and olives.

“How am I doing, boss?” I ask Quincie. “How’s that tip coming?”

Tonight I’m wearing the outfit that she gave me for Christmas: a long-sleeved blue shirt — she calls it sapphire — with black leather pants.

Kieren glances sideways at me. I have this theory that it’s only because of his respect for me as a holy being that he resists mocking my work wardrobe.

The Wolf makes a show of swallowing a bite of mouthwatering javelina. “One more question about Michael —”

“For the last time,” I tell him, “Michael is a colossus. The example we GAs strive to emulate. And he manages to secure his own weapon.”

“As opposed to you,” calls Joshua, strolling our way.

He’s always been a GA fashion trendsetter. But when it comes to Goth glam, Sanguini’s is a stage unparalleled. Josh is sporting a knee-length black cape over a black vest, high-necked white satin long-sleeved shirt, black satin pants with black dress shoes, and an ascot with a steampunkish bat tie tack.

“News flash,” he says to me. “Our man Michael is reassigning you to the front lines.”

As a waitress passes by, I hand off my tray to her. “What are you
doing
here? In Sanguini’s dining room? In that outfit?”

“Grounded, big-time,” Josh says, presenting me with scrolls tied with gold ribbon. “But hey, you’re upstairs bound. Congratulations, dude! When Miranda —”

“You’re earthbound?” I reply, struggling to understand.

“Call me earth angel, second string.” Josh points to Kieren’s plate. “Can I have what he’s having?” Rubbing his hands, he adds, “Hello, earthly pleasures, this meeting is
long
overdue.”

“Crap,” I reply, realizing what happened. “Because of me and Miranda, you —”

“Cheer up! Eternity is too short.” Josh gives Quincie a quick hug. “Great to see you, cutie!” He offers his hand to the perplexed-looking Wolf, and they shake.

Then Josh plucks a bowl of kumquat sherbet off of a nearby tray.

As Quincie assures the waitress that it’s fine, I tug at the gold ribbon, and Kieren stands. “Did your friend say that you’re headed upstairs?” he asks. “Upstairs as in . . .”

The parchments unfurl. I scan one, then the other.

“Zach?” the Wolf prompts. “Zach, are you okay?”

Nodding slowly, I point up, as if to heaven.

Kieren’s generous brows draw together. “You’re going home to Miranda?”

“Miranda,” I repeat. “And there’s more.”

To: Zachary

From: Michael

Date: Thursday, January 16

Be advised that the Petition for Full-Status Angel Reinstatement: Order Guardian, filed on your behalf by ascended soul Miranda Shen McAllister, has been denied.

In fact, you are no longer a guardian angel at all.

The guardian Joshua will be assuming your current assignment. Henceforth, he will watch over the vampire Quincie P. Morris.

P.S. Thank you for your years of service, such that they were.

To: Zachary

From: Michael

Date: Thursday, January 16

Be advised that the Word from On High is that you have been promoted to archangel.

You shall hereby be assigned to the deployment and supervision of guardians who will be assigned, one-on-one, to every neophyte vampire still in possession of his or her soul.

Report in your new uniform at your first available convenience to your new office at the Penultimate.