scruples.
Darma’s place was trashed. Furniture was smashed and walls had holes surrounded by scorch marks, telling me that somebody had laid out some serious power arrows in the small space.
But even more worrisome to me was the blood spattering the walls, from the entranceway all the way into her main living area.
Written on one large wall, in the main area of Darma’s house, were the words, Gone to Hell, not coming back, written in blood and signed with my sister’s name.
My pulse picked up and my knees went weak. She’d asked for my help and I’d blown her off to help Glynus.
Now she might be dead—or worse, she might be alive and in Hell.
I was a terrible sister.
Grabbing the cross around my neck I closed my eyes and sent out a plea to my father. After a moment he shimmered into view, but he wasn’t really there. His tall, leanly handsome form wavered softly on the air in front of me, ethereal and insubstantial. A thick lock of blond hair fell across his forehead, making him look uncharacteristically disheveled.
It was his soul form.
He frowned as he glanced around the room. “Astra, your sister asked you for help. Why has she been taken from her home by force?”
Oh-oh, he’d used his father voice instead of his benevolent angel voice.
I forced my shoulders not to lift in a dismissive shrug. Something in his sparkling blue eyes warned me he wasn’t in his happy place. “She contacted me and I came looking for her. This is what I found. I was hoping you knew something.”
Nice how I left out the middle part of the contacting and coming part, eh?
His frown deepened and his angelic complexion turned red. A rumbling sound filled the space between us. Apparently he could read between the lines of my life and see the missing parts.
Was he growling?
“Father?”
He looked heavenward, trying for calm. “I’m teaching this damn seminar on angelic ethics in the world of carnal temptation.” He lowered his bright blue gaze on me. It was filled with self-loathing. “You can imagine the ribbing I’m taking.”
I grimaced. My father, Archangel James Phelps, had been God’s right-hand man before he fell into carnal temptation with a Royal Devil Princess and begot two Tweener daughters. Yours truly and the missing Darma.
Probably not a good choice to lecture others on the subject.
Or the perfect choice, depending on your perspective.
“Ouch. Whose idea was that?”
He sighed. “I told Him it wasn’t a good idea but He insisted.”
Shaking my head I gave him my best look of pity. It didn’t seem to make him feel better.
Imagine that.
His form started to shimmer on the air. “I have to get back. I’ll send your Aunt down to help you.”
Oh god no! Not my cranky Aunt Myra. I reached for him, realizing too late that there was nothing to grab. “Wait! Just like that? You’re leaving Darma to her fate? Father!”
He shimmered back, looking only slightly ashamed. “She’s not dead or even nearly dead. I would have been told. But you need to find her and get her out of the plane she’s on.”
He started to shimmer away again. “Wait!” He frowned at me but didn’t shimmer away. “The plane she’s on? Where the Hel—um—heck is she?”
Lifting a golden eyebrow, he glanced toward the wall bearing the words written in blood. “You were right the first time, Astra. She’s been dragged to Hell. But she’s currently in an outer circle. If you can reach her quickly you can get her out before things get really ugly. If you don’t get her out let me know right away and I’ll have to intervene. I’d rather not do it at this point. I think you and Myra can get to her and I don’t need any accusations of favoritism right now.”
Horror washed over me. “But what about my Settl—”
He shimmered away and disappeared completely with a small pop on the air.
I stomped out of Darma’s home, called the Knight back and slid into a cool black leather seat. Programming the office into the
Darma’s place was trashed. Furniture was smashed and walls had holes surrounded by scorch marks, telling me that somebody had laid out some serious power arrows in the small space.
But even more worrisome to me was the blood spattering the walls, from the entranceway all the way into her main living area.
Written on one large wall, in the main area of Darma’s house, were the words, Gone to Hell, not coming back, written in blood and signed with my sister’s name.
My pulse picked up and my knees went weak. She’d asked for my help and I’d blown her off to help Glynus.
Now she might be dead—or worse, she might be alive and in Hell.
I was a terrible sister.
Grabbing the cross around my neck I closed my eyes and sent out a plea to my father. After a moment he shimmered into view, but he wasn’t really there. His tall, leanly handsome form wavered softly on the air in front of me, ethereal and insubstantial. A thick lock of blond hair fell across his forehead, making him look uncharacteristically disheveled.
It was his soul form.
He frowned as he glanced around the room. “Astra, your sister asked you for help. Why has she been taken from her home by force?”
Oh-oh, he’d used his father voice instead of his benevolent angel voice.
I forced my shoulders not to lift in a dismissive shrug. Something in his sparkling blue eyes warned me he wasn’t in his happy place. “She contacted me and I came looking for her. This is what I found. I was hoping you knew something.”
Nice how I left out the middle part of the contacting and coming part, eh?
His frown deepened and his angelic complexion turned red. A rumbling sound filled the space between us. Apparently he could read between the lines of my life and see the missing parts.
Was he growling?
“Father?”
He looked heavenward, trying for calm. “I’m teaching this damn seminar on angelic ethics in the world of carnal temptation.” He lowered his bright blue gaze on me. It was filled with self-loathing. “You can imagine the ribbing I’m taking.”
I grimaced. My father, Archangel James Phelps, had been God’s right-hand man before he fell into carnal temptation with a Royal Devil Princess and begot two Tweener daughters. Yours truly and the missing Darma.
Probably not a good choice to lecture others on the subject.
Or the perfect choice, depending on your perspective.
“Ouch. Whose idea was that?”
He sighed. “I told Him it wasn’t a good idea but He insisted.”
Shaking my head I gave him my best look of pity. It didn’t seem to make him feel better.
Imagine that.
His form started to shimmer on the air. “I have to get back. I’ll send your Aunt down to help you.”
Oh god no! Not my cranky Aunt Myra. I reached for him, realizing too late that there was nothing to grab. “Wait! Just like that? You’re leaving Darma to her fate? Father!”
He shimmered back, looking only slightly ashamed. “She’s not dead or even nearly dead. I would have been told. But you need to find her and get her out of the plane she’s on.”
He started to shimmer away again. “Wait!” He frowned at me but didn’t shimmer away. “The plane she’s on? Where the Hel—um—heck is she?”
Lifting a golden eyebrow, he glanced toward the wall bearing the words written in blood. “You were right the first time, Astra. She’s been dragged to Hell. But she’s currently in an outer circle. If you can reach her quickly you can get her out before things get really ugly. If you don’t get her out let me know right away and I’ll have to intervene. I’d rather not do it at this point. I think you and Myra can get to her and I don’t need any accusations of favoritism right now.”
Horror washed over me. “But what about my Settl—”
He shimmered away and disappeared completely with a small pop on the air.
I stomped out of Darma’s home, called the Knight back and slid into a cool black leather seat. Programming the office into the
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