Demon's Fall by Karalynn Lee

Heavensgate, a city with spare lines and tall towers. The streets were paved and clean. It was too quiet for Kenan’s taste, and the strands of saccharine harp music that occasionally drifted into earshot were no better.
    The city was centered around a graceful spiral staircase that grew lost in the clouds, and he headed toward it. His presence caused no alarm at first, but someone recognized him for what he was when he thoughtlessly tried to sip from a fountain and singed his hand in the holy water. It only stung mildly, he was surprised to find, but his reaction was still enough for others to notice.
    “Demon!” someone shrieked.
    Kenan, caught in the undignified position of sucking his fingers, turned to the throng of people forming behind him.
    An older woman stepped forward. A cloth-covered basket hung from one arm, and her other hand held a book. “Your kind isn’t often found here,” she observed with a composure that thankfully seemed to ease the others’ panic.
    Kenan had a sudden vision of himself stuffed in a cage and offered as a rarity. “I come as a petitioner,” he said.
    The crowd’s mood gentled further. No doubt they saw the chance to redeem a demon’s soul as intriguing as he’d found the thought of tempting an angel.
    “I’m looking for an angel. Her name’s Jahel.”
    “You seek the ange Jahel?”
    “Yes.”
    “She walks among us from time to time,” the woman said. “We’re grateful for her presence. Not that the sight of angels flying above isn’t heartening—”
    “I’m glad she comes down here,” a young man interrupted. “My grandfather collapsed and no angel would have flown down here in time. But ange Jahel was walking only a few streets over, and she carried his soul to Heaven herself.”
    Someone shushed him, but there were a few heads nodding.
    “What do you want from her?” the woman asked.
    “Peace.” Kenan had little of it. He found her at every turning of his thoughts, and could not sleep for lack of her.
    There was a murmur.
    “What does peace mean to a demon?”
    “What does it mean to a mortal?”
    She studied his face, but he had not asked in mockery. Finally she said, “Knowledge of where we have done right, and forgiveness where we have not.”
    “It’s forgiveness I seek.”
    The woman looked grave. “She does carry a sadness within her. If you are the cause of it, you should bring peace to her as well. But we have no way to send word to Heaven.”
    Of course the angels wouldn’t want to be bothered at a mortal’s whim, even a saint’s. “Let me stay here to wait for her,” he said.
    “A demon in Heavensgate?” someone protested.
    “I’ll cause no trouble.” He opened his hands in appeal. “This is my only chance of meeting her.”
    “It’s not our place to deny anyone closeness to Heaven,” the woman said. “No one, not even a demon, would have made his way up here lightly. I believe his cause is true.”
    Her word seemed to hold weight with the others, who began to drift away—although not without low comments and backward glances.
    “Here.” She folded back the cloth that covered her basket and drew out a loaf of bread to offer to Kenan. “You’ve had a long journey, it looks like. I’ll have someone bring you water that hasn’t been blessed.”
    Kenan wavered, wondering if his allure had effect even here. But there was no hint of lust in her face, only pity. So he took the bread, feeling humbled. There was no charity in Hellsgate, the city which had been founded upon the trade of souls. He once would have scoffed at anyone who offered something for free.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    So Kenan guarded the base of the stairway that led to Heaven. Angels never used it, of course. Mortals couldn’t perceive it. And no demon could bear to touch it. He was as close as he could stand. Any nearer and his bones were set to humming, and he thought they would shake their way out of his body if he actually dared set a foot on the bottom