What the Halo? I ONC2020 I

Chapter 1: Michaela

"He called me a disgrace to the heavens. I'm not meeting with him!" I dipped my finger into Ezekiel's rice pudding and licked it. Hmm... di-vine. If only I'd gotten out of bed in time to get myself an entire bowl. As it was, I had to hurry on an empty stomach.

"Hey you ..." He elbowed my side and I tipped over, my right wing rumpling against the cupboard.

"Watch that, I just finished combing them." I pushed two of my feathers back in place.

"Took her about a whole minute." Uriel rolled her eyes. "And I bet she left the brush exactly where she used it, instead of tucking it into the drawer."

Having no memory whatsoever of where I left my brush only seconds ago, I thought it wise to keep my mouth shut. My eye roll was better than hers anyway.

Having so many siblings could've been draining, but thank Father, I wasn't easily thrown out of balance. On the contrary, I thrived on chaos. The more the merrier.

"It's not your choice, Michaela!" Rafael handed me my briefcase. For some reason, he didn't let me keep it in my room but guarded it for me when I was not at work. As if I would lose it or something. "Father has set up the meeting and declared it has to be done by you and him. He was very specific. Lemme see." He peered down at the parchment in his hands, the divine golden seal dangling from it as if to defy me. Squinting at it, his other hand searched for his reading glasses on the table.

This could take a while. I put the briefcase down and pinched a honey tart from Uriel's plate. "U-uh!" I pointed at my pristine wings before she could shove her elbow into my gut.

Meanwhile, Rafael recited, "Michaela is to meet with Cain, first-line blood descendant of Asmodeus and Grade A Demon Elite."

At the mention of Cain's credentials, I wagged my head, including the mass of red curls I hadn't brushed. I did not thrive on being bullied. Being commanded by my father, who was―literally―God, was one thing, being called an inferior angel by a presumptuous demon was another. Grade A Cain? Pain in the A Cain more like it.

The first time we met, I was still in training and behind the wheel of a human car. A sparkling, cherry red Chevy with the top down. I was having the time of my life. Until I accidentally steered it into Pain in the A Cain's assignment. He couldn't get over himself. Demonsplaining me human navigation tools: "It's easy, Michaela: You listen. You follow the instructions. That's all there is to it. Voice says right, you turn right. Easy. No improv required. Humans can do it, Michaela."

Sure, humans could. And demons, of course, demons could follow lame instructions. A demon like Cain wouldn't recognize beauty if it bit him in the ass. And I'm telling you ... that field of poppies on the left of the road, beautiful! I had to drive through.

How was I supposed to know he was harvesting souls?