can be made in Hell.”
Across the table, Azmodeus spat out his wine in a rude spray, laughing hysterically. Red splatters dotted the white table cloth. “Excuse me?! Did you say you want to improve Hell?! For whose benefit and by what authority have you embarked upon your lofty enterprise? Bael! Ashtoreth! Are you planning to mutiny against dear old Dad?”
Ashtoreth’s fingers tapped against the stem of his wine glass. “No, Az. We’re simply here to discuss a possible reconciliation, pending Father’s approval, to mutually benefit both Heaven and Hell.”
“What could we possibly offer Heaven?”
Leianna cut in. “The redemption of lost souls.”
Az studied her incredulously, no longer a recalcitrant, lanky boy dogging her and Bael’s footsteps to surreptitiously watch their love-making and failing in his quest. He had grown tall, although Ashtoreth was taller and Bael even more so, but Az was as trim and firmly muscled. A man now, handsome with his waves of blond hair, his green eyes, he could play the young Apollo. But his comeliness was marred by his sneers and scowls, the emblems of his perpetually adversarial nature. He leaned toward her now, elbow on the table, hand cupping his chin. “Why? Does Heaven lack its quota lately?
She looked to Quatama, taken aback. He pushed away his untouched dessert, cupping his hands on the table. “Leianna speaks too soon. But you could offer forgiveness.”
Lucifer sat up straighter, his anger plain. “Forgiveness?! What sin has Heaven committed that demands our absolution? Does Heaven even consider itself partially to blame for the events leading up to the exile of my people, after crushing my peaceful rebellion!”
Quatama turned to the right, facing Lucifer while he answered him, a gesture of respect, and held up his hands palms outward. “We would ask you and your folk to forgive us for abandoning you for so long, for not healing the rift between us sooner, and for being closed to compromise.”
Lucifer leaned slowly back in his chair. “What changed your mind? And let me ask a second question: what does Heaven want of me after I forgive you, yours, and our Creator? Do you propose to serve in Hell now and usurp me, making those improvements Leianna so innocently wants?”
“Not to usurp you, but to restore you. We hope to rehabilitate the souls of Hell, as Leianna said.”
Lucifer smirked, clearly befuddled by Quatama’s proposal. “And will she wear a name tag as she works: ‘Welcome to Hell! My name is Leianna. I’m your social worker?’”
Leianna ignored his joke. “Father Lucifer, don’t you want to return to Heaven?”
Lucifer gaped at her, then pushed back his chair and rose. “This initial meeting of the dubious alliance committee is concluded by my say so. I’ll think upon your offer and perhaps lay down some terms and conditions for Heaven, if I seriously consider it. After all, this is my world now, built by my people and our toil, with no thanks to Heaven, and I would protect it from Heaven’s frivolous dichotomy. Heaven may know the difference between right and wrong, between good and evil, but Hell enforces it!
“You will both be escorted safely by Bael and Ashtoreth beyond the borders of Hell. Good night.” He held up his hands. The force field around the table flared briefly for a moment, then disappeared.
As he walked away, Leianna spoke: “I would like to stay awhile to visit with Mother Aff . . . Affaeteres.”
“As you wish,” Lucifer said over his shoulder. “I’m sure it would do her some good.” He left the dining room.
Affaeteres was staring at her, both her resignation and emotional hunger plainly showing. “That would please me very much.”
CHAPTER 6
Sharlan
Ashtoreth elected to escort Quatama back to the upper planes, while Bael and Leianna followed Affaeteres to her private chambers in the palace.
In the halls connecting the royal residences, a statuesque, dark-eyed woman came toward them. Her light green, Grecian-style gown accentuated her voluptuous figure and her rich, raven hair swept over her shoulders and down her back. She stopped abruptly; her gaze flickered first to Bael and then to Leianna. Her full lips opened in surprise, her expression almost frightened, puzzling Leianna, who posed no threat to her.
Bael and Affaeteres also paused, Bael’s hand on Leianna’s arm also halting her stride. He swept a hand toward the unknown beauty. “Leianna, Sharlan. Sharlan, Leianna.”
Leianna barely recognized her as the pleasant but shy girl she had know in Eliom, 35,000 years ago. They had never been close, not as close as Leianna and Chloe, now incarnated as Leigh Ann’s sister, Ginnie, had been. But Leianna and Sharlan had shared a simple friendship in the tight-knit community of angelfolk before the rift in the heavens tore them all apart, exiling the rebels and sending swells of the obedient to be reborn on Earth, heeding their Creator’s command to heal humanity’s genetic imbalance.
Sharlan attempted a smile. “Leianna. I had heard Bael found you. Has he brought you to Hell now?”
“I’m just visiting.” Her answer sounded flippant, despite its truth. But Sharlan’s question unnerved her. Would she have to live in Hell if the Alliance succeeded? Could she adjust to and survive in its environment emotionally? The fact that Bael lived in Hell had always been a charged and unsettled issue, since she had never even been allowed down here until tonight.
And Sharlan was now exquisite. Leianna suddenly felt inadequate, short and bumpkinish. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her astral appearance and choice of gown? She must look like a purple turnip left out overnight in a frost in her purple and lace gown. She recovered her voice—they were all staring at her—and forced a note of warmth into it. “Bael told us during dinner of the terrible ordeal you underwent when you first arrived in Hell.”
“The saurian creature? Yes, Bael rescued me, a terrible ordeal for him as well. Afterwards, he worried over whether the beast’s death at his hands broke the Creator’s command never to injure any angel or animal.”
“I would say death is a fatal injury, yes.” She adjusted her lace collar uneasily. “But the creature would have done the same to you.”
Sharlan shook her head. “You don’t understand. We were no longer under the Creator’s jurisdiction. But Bael had never killed anything before. None of us had, until we were forced to survive here in Hell. He was terribly upset. He felt tainted, as if he would never be clean again. I had to convince him otherwise, and we eventually put the experience behind us.” She smiled a bit too fondly at Bael, then turned her gaze back to Leianna, who had to crane her neck to return her gaze. “Bael, of course, told me of your reunion seven years ago, and I was happy for both of you. I hope things will work out for you.”
Leianna noticed that Bael was altogether too silent, even if his nature was naturally taciturn. “Yes, well, I’m glad you survived the ordeal. The Fall from Grace happened so long ago, sometimes it feels as if I’m remembering someone else’s story, not my own and Bael’s. It’s good seeing you again,” she added, although she wasn’t sure she totally meant it.
A look of amusement crossed Sharlan’s face, and she gave Bael another quick glance. “Likewise. If you’ll excuse me now, I’m sure Affaeteres is looking forward to your company.” Sharlan nodded to Bael’s mother and then to Leianna and Bael, saying, “Good night,” and continuing past them.
Affaeteres said, “My chambers are just around that corner up ahead.”
Leianna and Bael followed her, Bael leaning down to murmur in her ear: “As one can in the upper planes, those in Hell can often read thoughts in someone’s mind, if they’re loud enough.”
“Was I that obvious?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered her bluntly. They entered Affaeteres’s sitting room.
Affaeteres gestured to a loveseat beside a low table with tea set upon it. They sat down as she