there was a fucking good reason.” Dee’s nose turned back to the print. “But she might alleviate the angels on high of their collective wadded panties if she’d just come out and say what that reason was.”
Which focused Ramiel’s attention right back on her. Again.
Boy, Jerry had pinned the tail on the donkey when he warned her there’d be a fall out, but even this seemed extreme. What happened to the good old days, when you got a slap on the wrist and your wife turned into a pillar of salt? Was there no compassion in the world anymore?
The witch closed her eyes, drew a deep, slow breath, and began. “I’m sorry. I let my emotions get away from me and asked Jerry to do something that only benefitted me personally. I shouldn’t have done it, and it won’t happen again. Magic … It’s sort of becoming a crutch whenever I’m at my wit’s end.”
A place she spent so much time in, she was worried she’d soon be expected to chip in for rent and pizza.
Puppy dogs would have been twisted by the sad, reticent expression Riona plastered on. Ramiel might have the power to cause floods and topple tree lines in his hands, but he was a sucker for a female acting all human and ashamed. As rivulets began to trickle down her face, as pathetic gurgling gulps leapt from her throat, his resolve broke. Her face fell like melting taffy, taking Ramiel’s anger with it.
“Okay, okay, nix the tears. I was just getting used to you not crying constantly.”
The request went unheeded. Finally, he gave up and crossed to her, taking her into his embrace. “I know you’ve gone through a lot lately, but look at it from my perspective. If two Pure Souls get themselves damned in the space of a few months under my watch, it’s going to look really bad on my performance reviews. Protect your ass and my job, okay?”
Dee lowered his paper again. “Is anyone talking about taking your place? I can’t believe one little screw up like this would be enough to justify that.”
Jerry scooted out from the table, talking through a stretch. “Yeah, but don’t forget he fucked up by being on watch when a demon joined the corp. Can’t imagine Old Gabe is too thrilled about that, is he? Well, long day and I’m beat. Riona, good night. Dee, whatever. And Ramiel, as usual, kiss my keister with your plump, heavenly yap.”
Jerry’s shirt twisted up in Ramiel’s grip. “Not so fast. We still got business to discuss.”
Patting her tears, Riona looked up in shock as though Ramiel had just declared he had decided to pursue his lifelong dream to be a competitive cheese carver. “What business?”
Tossing Jerry back in his chair, he pulled from the air a manila folder, which he then tossed on the table. Jerry opened the file and began fingering through the pages within.
“Did I miss something? When did we get cast in a community theater production of Urban Cowboy?”
With a thrust of his arm, Dee reached out and snatched the folio out of Jerry’s grip. When he leafed through the pages, however, his reaction failed to instill fear. “Oh, can I go side saddle? You know I’m a fan of reverse cowboy, right?”
A corner of Jerry’s mouth rose. “Riona is, too.”
Which is how he ended up sucking carpet.
Regaining control of his sense, Ramiel turned to apologize to Riona for his outlandish actions, when he caught sight of her balled fist and her racing breath.
“Wait, did we all hit him?” Dee asked.
Riona turned to the demigod, kissing the back of her knuckles. “Yeah, but I’m the reason his nose is bleeding.”
Being reborn by having your soul stuffed in someone else’s meat-wrapper really fucked with your self-image. Who was he? Gaius Gallicus? Jerry Romani? A demon? A pure soul? Jimmy Hoffa? A human body was nothing more than a byproduct of a roll in the hay, an amalgamation of tissue and fluids arranged by microscopic genetic chains. If that’s what defined a person, as so many scientist believed, then he was
Which focused Ramiel’s attention right back on her. Again.
Boy, Jerry had pinned the tail on the donkey when he warned her there’d be a fall out, but even this seemed extreme. What happened to the good old days, when you got a slap on the wrist and your wife turned into a pillar of salt? Was there no compassion in the world anymore?
The witch closed her eyes, drew a deep, slow breath, and began. “I’m sorry. I let my emotions get away from me and asked Jerry to do something that only benefitted me personally. I shouldn’t have done it, and it won’t happen again. Magic … It’s sort of becoming a crutch whenever I’m at my wit’s end.”
A place she spent so much time in, she was worried she’d soon be expected to chip in for rent and pizza.
Puppy dogs would have been twisted by the sad, reticent expression Riona plastered on. Ramiel might have the power to cause floods and topple tree lines in his hands, but he was a sucker for a female acting all human and ashamed. As rivulets began to trickle down her face, as pathetic gurgling gulps leapt from her throat, his resolve broke. Her face fell like melting taffy, taking Ramiel’s anger with it.
“Okay, okay, nix the tears. I was just getting used to you not crying constantly.”
The request went unheeded. Finally, he gave up and crossed to her, taking her into his embrace. “I know you’ve gone through a lot lately, but look at it from my perspective. If two Pure Souls get themselves damned in the space of a few months under my watch, it’s going to look really bad on my performance reviews. Protect your ass and my job, okay?”
Dee lowered his paper again. “Is anyone talking about taking your place? I can’t believe one little screw up like this would be enough to justify that.”
Jerry scooted out from the table, talking through a stretch. “Yeah, but don’t forget he fucked up by being on watch when a demon joined the corp. Can’t imagine Old Gabe is too thrilled about that, is he? Well, long day and I’m beat. Riona, good night. Dee, whatever. And Ramiel, as usual, kiss my keister with your plump, heavenly yap.”
Jerry’s shirt twisted up in Ramiel’s grip. “Not so fast. We still got business to discuss.”
Patting her tears, Riona looked up in shock as though Ramiel had just declared he had decided to pursue his lifelong dream to be a competitive cheese carver. “What business?”
Tossing Jerry back in his chair, he pulled from the air a manila folder, which he then tossed on the table. Jerry opened the file and began fingering through the pages within.
“Did I miss something? When did we get cast in a community theater production of Urban Cowboy?”
With a thrust of his arm, Dee reached out and snatched the folio out of Jerry’s grip. When he leafed through the pages, however, his reaction failed to instill fear. “Oh, can I go side saddle? You know I’m a fan of reverse cowboy, right?”
A corner of Jerry’s mouth rose. “Riona is, too.”
Which is how he ended up sucking carpet.
Regaining control of his sense, Ramiel turned to apologize to Riona for his outlandish actions, when he caught sight of her balled fist and her racing breath.
“Wait, did we all hit him?” Dee asked.
Riona turned to the demigod, kissing the back of her knuckles. “Yeah, but I’m the reason his nose is bleeding.”
Being reborn by having your soul stuffed in someone else’s meat-wrapper really fucked with your self-image. Who was he? Gaius Gallicus? Jerry Romani? A demon? A pure soul? Jimmy Hoffa? A human body was nothing more than a byproduct of a roll in the hay, an amalgamation of tissue and fluids arranged by microscopic genetic chains. If that’s what defined a person, as so many scientist believed, then he was
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