CHAPTERONE
“Demon farts don’t even stink anymore,thanks to me. Isn’t that miracle enough?” Destiny Monroe cleared the nervous muck from her throat and wiped her palms on her pristine white gown.
She glanced at her lap and tried not to cringe.
You’d think the magic that morphed her clothes into this standard issue angel uniform the moment she crossed into Divine Grace, Inc. would’ve cleaned her hands too—perfection was a must in the angelic realm—but no. A smear of pale blue frosting from the baby shower cake she’d been decorating stretched from her hip to the middle of her thigh.
Gabriela folded her arms on the golden desk between them and made atsksound. “You should have washed your hands before you answered my summons.”
Another bit of frosting lingered on Destiny’s thumb, so she stuck it in her mouth, swiping it with her tongue before folding her hands in her lap to cover the stain.
“The message felt urgent.” She tried to hold the archangel’s gaze, but the intensity in Gabriela’s silver eyes forced her to look away.
The expansive office had alabaster walls, a polished white marble floor, and a bookcase filled from top to bottom with golden “Seraph of the Month” trophies and plaques. Behind the desk, a massive, floor-to-ceiling window provided a view of the repository below, where dozens upon dozens of lower-level angels rushed about, reshelving books, filing paperwork, and smiling while they worked themselves to… Well, not to death. Angels didn’t die, but Destiny was sure as sugar she’d want to after working down there for a decade or so.
Divine Grace, Inc. was the governing body that managed all the angels in all the realms. Michelle was the big boss, of course, and she handed down all the rules from the higher ups. Her gaggle of archangels acted as middle management, doling out orders and making sure the almighty angel of angels’ laws were followed to the letter.
Because heaven forbid the egotistical dictator lift a wing and do the work herself.
Destiny sighed and closed her eyes for a long blink. That wasn’t very angel-like of her to think, but what could they expect? Gabriela kept winning those ridiculous awards because she kissed Michelle’s tush every chance she got. She also kept the angels in her dominion under a heavy thumb.
Everything ran smoothly. Mistakes were not allowed.
And now, Destiny sat in this cushiony chair with its obscene amount of fluff, trying not to squirm as her boss reprimanded her…not for screwing up. No, Destiny wasn’t in the hot seat for anything she’d done. Not this time, anyway. It was what shehadn’tdone that had landed her here, under Gabriela’s reproachful gaze.
“How long has it been since you’ve graced this realm?” the archangel asked.
Destiny straightened her spine, drawing her feathered wings closer to her back. “I don’t know. A while.”
“One hundred and fifty-two years.” Gabriela leaned back, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair and steepling her fingers.
Destiny clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to tell her she shouldn’t ask questions to which she already knew the answers.
“How long has it been since you’ve performed an actual, office-sanctioned miracle on Earth? And do not mention demon flatulence in my presence again. You’re lucky your ‘cure’ for that so-called ailment was a mere side effect of your angel food cake recipe. Applying for approval after a miracle has been performed is forbidden, which I am certain you know.”
“I…” Demon farts were more than aso-called ailment. They were a gosh dang epidemic, and all of New Orleans was breathing easier now, thanks to her. She pressed her lips into a line and waited for Gabriela to answer her own question.
“It’s been one hundred and two years since you’ve performed a miracle, Destiny.” She arched a judgmental brow. “At minimum, how often must an earthbound angel perform an office-sanctioned miracle if she wishes to remain in that realm?”
Destiny’s throat thickened as she waited for the archangel to answer for her. When she didn’t, she forced out a response, “At least every one hundred years.”
Gabriela rose, her fluid movements barely making a sound as she strode toward the bookcase to admire her trophies. “Did you lose track of time?”
“I guess maybe. Two years is like a blink.” She tried to snap but smeared frosting across her fingers instead.
“My assistant said the same thing when I asked her why she only brought your insubordination to my attention now. She has been reassigned to the grape pit.”
Destiny swallowed hard, trying to keep her expression neutral. Turning water into wine was serious angel business, and the poor souls assigned to stomp in the grape pit had to live with purple stains up to their knees for the rest of their existences.
Gabriela whirled toward her, clutching a golden award, the silky fabric of her dress silently swishing around her ankles. “Michelle tolerates nothing less than perfection. If your misdeed goes without consequence, I can kiss my eight-time Seraph of the Decade streak goodbye. That would put my run for Seraph of the Century in jeopardy, so let me be very clear…”
She unclenched the trophy, and it floated back to its spot on the shelf. “You, my dear, sweet, little baker, willnotbe the reason I fall from Michelle’s good graces. Your time on Earth is up. Pack your things and return to the angelic realm for reassignment. A few millennia in the repository should set you straight.”
Destiny’s heart plopped into her stomach before taking a flying leap into her throat. She was lucky she kept her mouth closed or the pint of eclair filling she’d had for breakfast would’ve splattered onto Gabriela’s precious awards.
The repository? No. No, she couldn’t let that happen. After spending over a century on Earth, she wouldn’t survive down there with all those brainless cherubs and their saccharine smiles. She needed to be among the living, not that angels were dead, but whatever. Destiny needed stimulation, action, conversation…as many “tions” as she could get.
The angels who worked in the repository… Let’s just say they were all a few feathers short of a full goose. They lived in the same boring building together. They did mind-numbing work together. They shared a brain cell, and it wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. If Destiny joined them, she’d be more than a few grapes short of a fruit salad too.
