The outskirts of Heaven were lush, green, a paradise. Trees swelled with glittering fruit. Morning dew sparkled on the flower-laden fields. We followed a dirt path through a meadow, bordered by forest, to burning gates. An angel stood guard with a sword. Her umber skin was tattooed with spirals and she wore a veil, like Michael's soldiers.
Samael saluted her mockingly. "Uriel. You look constipated, as usual."
Uriel shouldered her blade. "Come slithering back for forgiveness?"
Samael smiled without warmth. "I'm afraid that's not the case. Just escorting the Magdalene to Michael, who seems to be in desperate need of her. He could have called, you know."
"Whatever." Uriel scanned us. "Henry, what took so long?"
"She had to be plied with wine," Henry said.
"You said the moscato was a peace offering!" I said.
Henry flashed me a crooked grin. "Same difference."
I put my hands on my hips. "I never should have trusted you."
