“Okay then.” Jesus grinned and pulled out his joint.
“Your Majesty,” Abaddon said, then looked pointedly at the joint.
Jesus grinned, lifted it to his nose, and breathed deeply. “Ah, the sweet smell of the Devil's lettuce.”
Chapter Eight
I couldn't remember if we'd fought Remiel directly. The last battle with Jerry had been wild and included my son, Brevyn. I'd been a bit distraught. Then there was Samael and all his eyes. Yup, more than two. More than twenty. All over his body. Where eyes should not be. It had been rough. At least Samael had switched sides. He had been the one to deliver the death blow to Jerry.
I think. I'm pretty sure.
Again, it was all so jumbled in my head now. I knew Abaddon had been there too. Who was it who had killed the bastard? I took his magic. But I hadn't killed him. Abaddon helped, but I think it was Samael who killed Jehovah. I remember thinking it was quite the turn of events, what with how Samael had been such a big Jerry supporter.
It looked as if I wasn't the only one having problems with my memory. Remiel sat in a chair beside Jesus, drinking a cup of tea. He acted as if he'd always been on our side. That he was celebrating our victory as much as we did. And maybe he was. But he had to know that we knew who he had been before the fall of Jehovah. Maybe he was hoping we had forgotten.
The Archangel set his teacup aside and looked around the airy living room at his guests. “So, how can I help the Throne?”
“The Throne?” Viper whispered to me.
“He means Jesus,” I whispered back.
“There have been some odd occurrences in the Heavens,” Azrael said. “Things getting moved around, that sort of thing.”
“Oh?” Remiel asked. “Why?”
“That's what we're trying to find out,” Thor said.
“Remiel, buddy.” Jesus leaned forward and took off his glasses. Fixing his piercing stare on the Archangel, he asked, “Do you know anything about someone putting the Ark of the Covenant out in the desert? It's got a lot of Angels concerned.”
“The Ark?” Remiel blinked. “Someone moved the Ark? How? Isn't it guarded?”
Jesus grimaced. “It was kept in a secure room. You know that. Every Angel knows where we keep the Ark.”
“Oh. Yes, I do.” Remiel frowned. “Sorry, Sire. It's been a long time since I've thought about the Ark. But I don't understand. Are you saying that someone took the Ark out to the desert and left it there?”
“That's right,” Jesus said.
“To what end?”
“We think it was meant to make me look foolish.”
“I don't see how that would work.” Remiel considered this. “No, there are far better ways to make you look the fool. Butno one in all the Heavens would want to do that. We are finally at peace.”
“Then there are none who harbor resentment toward my brother?” Azrael asked.
“For what?” Remiel asked.
“The death of Jehovah,” I said.
Remiel sighed. “I followed a man who I had faith in. He turned out to be a terrible ruler, twisted by unrequited love and potent drink. But he was still my king. I did my duty by him and I mourn his death as I should.” He met Jesus's stare. “But that's about honor. Now, I am free of my vows and have made new ones to a king I am proud to support. I would never seek to overthrow you.”
“I believe you, Remiel,” Jesus said with a grin and slid his shades back on.
“Do you know of anyone who may be mourning Jehovah a little more strongly than you?” I asked.
“There were many Angels who enjoyed Jehovah's rule,” Remiel said grimly. “Men and women who were . . . less kind than they should have been. Jehovah was bitter and a drunk, but he wasn't evil. Not like some.”
“Agree to disagree,” I muttered under my breath.
