I wish I did. I want to go home more than anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with Earth. I like a lot of things about Earth—Chinese food and movies being two prime examples. But it’s not home.
I miss having a home.
The food arrives forty minutes later, and I curl up on the couch to start the movie. Even though I’ve seen this film dozens of times, I still find myself leaning forward on the couch, a dumpling poised halfway to my mouth as I bite my lower lip.
On-screen, the woman dressed in black crashes through a window, landing on her back and drawing her weapons in a flash.
“Get up, Trinity. Get up.” I say the words along with her, my heart racing and my gaze riveted to the screen.
“You know she can’t actually hear you.”
The masculine voice comes from my right, and I yelp in shock, jumping about a foot in the air. The dumpling flies off my fork, slipping through my scrabbling hands and landing on the floor.
I’m not alone in my apartment anymore.
Chapter Three
Trinity
“Frick!” I say out loud—which is very undignified and un-angelic of me, I’ll be the first to admit that.
My head swivels quickly to the right, but I already know who I’m going to find standing there. It’s Anderson, because of course it is.
“Trinity.” He’s dressed in an impeccable tan suit, a dark brown tie settled snugly at his throat, his salt and pepper hair carefully styled. He looks almost but not quite like Morgan Freeman, although when I told him that once, he had no idea what I was talking about. Most angels don’t watch as many movies as I do.
“Sir.” I scramble to my feet and dip my head in greeting.
I’m keenly aware that I’m in just my sleep shirt because I kicked my flannel jammy pants off a while ago when I got too warm, and there are boxes of messy Chinese takeout all around me on the couch and coffee table. And a dumpling on the floor.
I look… well, not like a slob, exactly, but close.
Oops?
Trying to be subtle about it, I casually move my foot a few inches and nudge the dumpling under the couch. I’ll get it later. Shoot, I hope I don’t forget. Then I stand in parade rest, clearing my throat as I try to figure out what Anderson is doing here.
My onetime boss looks amused. “At ease, Trinity. You’re not in trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
I blink. “I’m not?”
Seriously? I was sure that my whole “getting fired for breaking rules” schtick was going to get me a slap on the wrist from Upstairs for sure.
Anderson shakes his head. “No. In fact, I am here to offer you a chance to earn your ticket back home.”
My eyebrows rise so fast they practically fly off my face.
What? Home? Home!
Ohhh, I want to go home. It doesn’t feel quite like my skin fits here. The other fallen at my support group say they feel the same. We’re full of angelic power, and it’s hard to confine all of that into one single mortal form.
But there’s got to be a catch, right? He wouldn’t just offer me a way home for no reason. There’s always a catch with Upstairs. Do I need to follow all of the rules and nothing but that for a month? A decade? I can totally do that.
I hope.
“What do I need to do?” I ask.
Anderson gives me a slow, pleased smile. “I like the way you think, Trinity.”
No, you don’t. But I don’t dare say that out loud. In fact, maybe even thinking it is a bit of a risk. Anderson can’t read my mind, as far as I know, but what if he can and I just don’t know it? I’ll get busted even worse than the first time, and I don’t even want to imagine what my punishment would be this time.
For someone who’s constantly breaking the rules, I do seem to lack the requisite backbone that should come with being a rebel.
Anderson’s face grows serious again. “Your case is up for review, and the board would like to give you another chance. We like to be forgiving, after all. That is one of the things that separates us from the corrupted. But we cannot, of course, simply allow you back in if you have not learned your lesson. That’s what your banishment is all about, you know—learning your lesson. Becoming the angel and servant of Heaven that you were meant to be.”
I blanch a little at the power in his words, a shiver running over my skin. Mostly, we use terms like Above and Below, corrupted and fallen. Words have power, so we try to use the real names only when we have to.
But the fact that Anderson is invoking the name of Heaven means that this is serious. It’s real.
This could actually be my chance to get back Upstairs.
“We need all the help that we can get in our war against evil,” Anderson goes on. “Our side is not losing, of course. That would be impossible, since we are so clearly on the side of the right and the just. But Earth is neutral territory and that is making things… difficult. Humans are so finicky in their sins and their virtues.”
I think humans are fascinating, but he probably doesn’t want to hear about that right now, so I keep my lips zipped.
“We need to strike a decisive victory, but we cannot act so openly as we once did. It has become harder than ever to keep our existence hidden from humanity, but no less important. We have to be subtle.”
“Are you asking me to, um, fight one of the corrupted? Or turn some souls toward redemption?” Those are the usual kinds of things angels get assigned to do.
I don’t want to fight a demon though. No way.
As much as I might dream of taking after my namesake who’s still kicking butt on screen, I was never trained as a battle angel. It’s not really my forte.
Anderson looks at me like I’m an idiot for even suggesting it. “No. There are other creatures besides us and the corrupted, Trinity. We want you to work some of those creatures to our advantage. We want you to redeem the seven sins.”
I choke on my next breath, certain I’ve heard him wrong. “Sorry, the what?”
He can’t be serious.
Anderson sighs. “I know you’ve been on Earth for some time, Trinity, but surely you have not forgotten what the sins are.”
“No, I know what they are. I just thought maybe—are you sure? Are you serious?”
Anderson’s face is as deadly serious as a kid in the final round of a spelling bee. “Most certainly. The sins have plagued us for far too long. Their very existence is abhorrent, but what’s done is done. We cannot undo their creation, so we must do the next best thing, which is redeem them. We did, of course, consider simply having you assassinate them—but you have always been better at administration work. And what good would it do to kill them? No, it would be far better to win them to our side. That way, we gain strong allies in our fight against the corrupted.”
“But the sins aren’t corrupted,” I point out. Because it’s true, they aren’t. “They’re kind of… neutral entities. They like being among humans on Earth more than they like helping Hell. Indulging in the sins they represent. Unlike the corrupted, they have no stake in the war between the factions of good and evil.”
“True. But their nature is implicitly dark. It is only a matter of time until one of the corrupted wins them over to the side of Hell,” Anderson replies. “We cannot allow that to happen, Trinity. We must get to them first. You have to get to them first.”