Modern Divinity

3. Messenger

The next afternoon fell upon her much sooner than she could fully prepare for. She stood, fidgeting, and squirming on her porch, waiting for Mael's promised ride. Celestine wasn't nervous about the task itself, for her killing demons was as easy as breathing, but she did worry what kind of trap she might be walking headfirst into.

The car that swerved over to park at her curb looked suspiciously familiar, and as she let herself into the back of the SUV, she recognized the driver right away.

"You-" she began, then thought better of it and turned to look out the tinted window, not wanting to see his reaction. "Never mind, whatever."

The man cleared his throat and navigated the car back into the street. "It's a long ride, but I was told to cover whatever necessities you need for today. I was also told to emphasize that this is meant to be a discrete operation, so you're riding back with me no matter what."

She sighed flippantly in response and began fiddling with the buttons on the car door, trying to distract herself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head in frustration before turning his focus to the road.

After an hour or so of boredom, the scenery a pastiche of identical looking trees and fields, she decided to try and pry more information out of the man.

"So, what all does it take for one of you to piss off a lord bad enough to put a hit out?"

He grunted, clearly debating whether it was in his best interests to answer.

After a period of careful deliberation, he answered. "When we want to come up here, we need permission. Part of that permission involves finding someone with enough influence to sponsor us."

"Funny," she said, reaching for a can of mixed nuts she had just noticed was stashed away in the center divider. "That you like it here, I mean."

"Yeah, I get that you angels are dragged down here kicking and screaming like the spoiled, favored, children you are, but for us this is like a vacation compared to what's down there."

She exhaled sharply, the insensitive nature of her comment sinking in thanks to his admonishment. She had every right to be angry at being chastised by one of his kind, but instead she found herself struck by an odd mix of pity and shame.

"Sorry," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. She was genuinely regretful of how she had carried herself the last few days, the unlikeable personality bleeding through was not her usual self.

"It's fine, I've heard worse."

She popped a salted almond into her mouth, and he cleared his throat to continue.

"You get to stay up here as long as you keep your sponsor happy, you know?"

"I see, so I guess you guys have your own sets of rules." She drummed her fingers against the seat as she mulled the idea over. "Explains why we never really hear about it."

"That's the idea, yeah."

"You still aren't supposed to be up here at all, let alone interacting with mortals."

"Tell that to your boss."

"It's not really my issue to deal with."

"And that's why we get to operate openly, despite meddling in mortal affairs. The bullshit hierarchy up there means so much bureaucracy, nobody wants to do anything because they don't want it to be their problem."