I glanced at Az and saw him frown at Heaven. I was betting he was remembering the same event. It was hard to forget. The Army of Hell had invaded Heaven that day, marching through the golden streets to save me. It astounded me every time I thought about it. But it wasn't really me they had come for. They had followed their king, who had followed his son, who had followed his heart.
Love will make you do anything, even storm the gates of Heaven.
But Lucifer didn't want to rule Heaven. He had a cushy job over in Hell, sucking up all the energy from naughty acts that were blamed on him. Sometimes, it was good to be the scapegoat, and Lucifer was the OG scapegoat—the OG SG. Azrael didn't want Heaven either. He just wanted me safe. So, after Jerry agreed to a truce, the Hordes of Hell left peacefully. But Heaven remembered. It would always remember that Hell was stronger.
I was betting the Host was relieved that their new leader had a good relationship with Hell. Better than good, Jesus was Lucifer's stepson—Holly's child by Jehovah. Despite that and the open path between the territories, Angels and Demons tended to stay where they belonged.
Jesus sighed. “These steps are such a downer.”
Viper snorted. “Literally.”
Jesus looked up, met his gaze, and chuckled. “Downer. Yes, literally.”
“It's your territory.” I motioned at the steps. “If you don't like the stairs, change them.”
“Whoa, you're right!” Jesus focused on the stairs, and they shifted.
Gears whirred to life, walls rose, and everything moved. The stone steps were still there, but they were to either side of a set of escalators—one going down and one up. The glass escalator walls supported white handrails that moved in time with the white metal steps.
“Very nice, Brother.” Azrael slapped Jesus on the back.
“Nice? This is outta sight!” Jesus ran for the down escalator. Arms up in the air, he rode down as if he were on a roller coaster, even shouting, “Wooo!”
Viper ran after him, holding himself aloft on the handrails so that his feet dangled and he glided to the bottom with his legs swinging. The rest of us chuckled and followed more sedately. When we reached the bottom, I turned to stare up at the Throne of God. The escalators looked luxurious enough to fit in.
“Why did I never think of that?” Jesus shook his head and looked around the square between the Throne and the city. “What else should I change?”
“Maybe wait for inspiration.” Azrael considered the open space. “A fountain might be nice.”
“Oh, groovy! I love that idea.” Jesus wiggled his fingers as he looked around. “What kind of design do I want? Oh, I know! I could make a fountain of wine! Ooooh, or chocolate!”
“Uh, perhaps you could redecorate after you take us to the soul?” Hades suggested.
“Oh, damn it!” Jesus made a wincing expression. “What a goober I am! This way.” He went to a building on the edge of the square.
It didn't look like a residence; too official for that. At the top of a short flight of steps was a pair of glass doors with gold writing on them—Soul Processing. I widened my eyes at Azrael. How had I not known this was there? Then again, how would I have known? I hadn't spent a lot of time exploring Heaven.
The doors opened onto a workspace full of desks. No cubicles, just desks dotting the vast, carpeted space. And they were empty. All but one. A female Angel jumped up from her desk and hurried over to us from across the room, red hair streaming behind her and white wings lifted.
“Your Majesty!” The woman came to a stop before Jesus and bowed. “I see you've brought the Godhunter. Shall I escort you to holding?”
“Holding?” I whispered to Re.
“Told you.” He grimaced. “Prison. At least we have an exit.”
“This is not a prison!” The Angel huffed. “If it were, the soul would be in a cell. He is in a holding room.”
Hades removed his sunglasses and stared at the woman. “What's the difference?”
She backed up. “What areyoudoing here?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill, everyone.” Jesus stepped between them. “We're all friends here. This is Heaven; we're all about the love.” He grimaced. “Now, we're all about the love. Keep it mellow.” He looked at the Angel. “Hades is a friend of mine and a righteous dude. Now, Satibel, will you please take us to the soul?”
“Yes, Sire!” Satibel inclined her head and then led us through the room to a set of stairs.
We went up the stairs and down a hallway. Satibel opened a door and motioned us through, bowing to Jesus as he passed.
“Definitely not a cell.” I looked around with wide eyes.
