He phrased it so casually, like he was discussing a hobby instead of damnation. Rehabilitating. What a sterile word for whatever horrors they subjected their dead to. “I heard all the souls are kept in tiny boxes and filed away until it’s their turn to be tortured. What’s the point? They’re dead.”
The history of the archangel’s presence in Inferna started long before I was born. While most of what happened in Hell remained a mystery because of demons bound by bloodoaths, there had always been rumors. It was surrounded by tall fencing that had a magical shield to keep things both in and out. One side was at the edge of Inferna, where no demon dared to go.
“Being in those boxes gives them time to replay their lives.” He finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the floor next to the chair.
I had a lot more questions, but a cacophony of high-pitched bells and sounds rang out.
He lowered his chair’s footrest and stood. “Pizza’s here.” He walked down a hallway, and I heard him talking to another man.
He came back into the room a minute later, carrying a large, flat box with a smaller box on top.
The smell immediately hit my nose, and my stomach growled. I didn’t even remember the last time I ate, besides the bite of cake pop. Had it been before the council meeting?
I stood and headed toward the dining table.
“I don’t eat there.” Raphael reached up into a cabinet, his shirt lifting to show a sliver of skin.
It was odd having everything, and I mean everything, in one room. The bedrooms and bathrooms were separate, but the sitting room, kitchen, and dining room were all in one big open space.
He opened the lids of the boxes, making an audible inhale. “Oh, pizza, how I love thee.”
He filled a plate, grabbed a cloth off a roll and a new beer, and went to his chair. He grabbed a small rectangle and pointed it at the reflective rectangle over the fireplace.
What was with Earth and shiny rectangles?
“Help yourself.” His eyes were glued to the rectangle as it flashed with light and people and voices came on it.
“What is that?” I stared at it wide-eyed. “Does it use dark or light magic?”
He laughed. “It’s a TV, short for television. You can watch shows and movies on it. They’re similar to plays, and it uses electricity, not magic.”
“Surely it has to use magic.” I watched as men ran around like bugs and threw a ball.
I walked into the kitchen and picked up a plate that was made of thick paper. How did their dishes hold soup?
There was no serving utensil, and Raphael was eating with his hands. I sighed and served myself.
“It’s a shame you don’t have pizza delivery in Inferna.” He didn’t look away from the TV as I sat down on the couch with my plate.
I felt his eyes on me as I lifted the slice and took a bite. I closed my eyes. Sweet baby hell serpent, it was delicious. A tiny moan escaped, and Raphael made a noise that sounded like a strangled laugh.
We ate dinner in silence because the noise from the TV made it impossible to hold a conversation. He was staring at the TV like his life depended on it and occasionally cursed under his breath at whatever was happening.
I tried to relax into the soft cushions after I finished but found it difficult. I needed to get back to Inferna. The council could implode for all I cared, but there were three—no, four—men who needed my help.
“Are you tired?” Raphael picked up my plate and beer and put them in the kitchen.
I grabbed a pillow and hugged it. “I need to get back to Inferna.”
The room went dark besides the glow from the TV as he sat next to me on the couch. A sensation curled low in my belly that definitely wasn’t indigestion. I wanted to smack myself upside the head.
I told myself he was getting ready to turn in for the night, not trying to create anything romantic.
I pulled the pillow tighter as he turned toward me, propping his elbow on the side of the couch. He was way too close, but I was next to the arm and couldn’t scoot away. “Let my contacts in Inferna get some information so we know what we’re walking into. There are a few demons in Hell that could help us if we need reinforcements.”
He looked at me thoughtfully, and my skin heated from his stare. He wasn’t watching the TV any longer, but now I was staring at it.
“You’re still registering as an angel. Did you ingest any angel blood or lick the feathers?” He sounded serious.
