which was obviously nude underneath the thin material. “What…?” She changed her mind. She didn’t really want to know. So instead she said, “That’s a good color on you.”
He smiled. “I know.”
“I just had an interesting convo with a music demon.”
Kellareal’s smile faded. “Lyric.”
“That’s the one. He had some provocative things to say about Black Swan transitioning humans to demons.” She cocked her head and studied him as she said, “Especially females. Anything we should know about that?”
The angel pursed his lips and waved his hand. His clothes instantly changed to his usual day dress; cream leather pants, a thick, white nubby tunic, and a wide jeweled belt that looked like the inspiration for the one given to the Worldwide Wrestling title holder.
When Rosie looked curious, he said, “If we’re gonna talk business, I need to look the part. Dress for success and all.”
“This is your idea of dressing for success? What would a successful outcome to this dialogue mean to you?”
“Well, you know.”
“No. I don’t.”
“You’re going to try to extract information that I don’t want to share. I’m going to resist. Prevailing means getting out of here without telling you anything or having you follow me.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“Always.”
She tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes. “Is that the truth?”
The angel’s face turned a little pink. “With you? I’m always honest with you.”
“Good. Let’s walk and talk.” Kellareal shook his head. “No? What’s the problem?”
“If we’re walking and talking, I might be distracted by the garden or the clouds or the birds. And I might say things.”
“Yes. That’s the idea.”
“You’re as tricky as a demon.”
Rosie laughed and held her palm up like she was taking an oath. “Own it.”
“I have to go.”
“No.”
“I want to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what I want to know.” Kellareal pouted. “Lyric told me to ask my grandfather about female demons. But Grandy is…”
“Insufferable?” Kellareal sneered.
“I was going to say a mixed bag of delight and confusion. I might get him to talk, given enough time and patience, but the information would probably be couched in half truths and riddles. Since I’m not in the mood for games and puzzles, I’m asking you.”
“It’s a good thing you came to me instead of your grandfather. In fact, that should be a policy.”
“I didn’t come to you. You were summoned here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Off topic.”
“You started it.”
“Did I not just tell you I’m not in the mood for games?”
“Then don’t initiate.”
“Just tell me what I want to know. Or give me a truly stellar reason why not.”
“Truly stellar reason coming up. Wait for it. Wait for it.”
“Lally!”
“NUMBER ONE! Manufacturing female demons could be bad. At the very least it means disruption to the natural order of things. At the most it could mean chaos, bedlam, and pandemonium throughout the multidimensional gridwork of worlds that are anchored to Earth. The irony is that all that doom might be unintentional because the dem femmes don’t know what they’re capable of.”
She took a deep breath. “Like me?”
“The transformed hunters are never going to be powerful like you because they’re not real demons. They’re artificial. In all creation you are unique because of your very unlikely genetic makeup. Time for metaphors.” He said that as cheerfully as if he was auditioning for a revival of Sesame Street.
“Oh, here we go.”
Ignoring that impotent protest, he said, “A bull in a china shop may not level the entire building the way a tank might do, but the destruction would be just as devastating to the tenants who leased the space. With all their inventory and means of livelihood gone, they wouldn’t care about the distinction.”
“And in this metaphor, my female hunters are bulls and I’m a tank?”
“Yes.”
“Flattering comparison.”
“Wasn’t meant to be.”
Rosie decided to forego a lesson on sarcasm in the interest of staying on track. “What’s number two?”
“What?”
“You said that was number one. That my hunters are potentially dangerous to… all living things?”
He shook his head slightly. “Not all living things. All things, inanimate and animate by extension.”
“And that they might wreak havoc without intending to.”
“Right.”
“What’s number two?”
“That there’s no point in discussing this because we have a policy of non-interference.”
Rosie gaped at the angel for a couple of beats before laughing out loud. “I need to start a little notebook of Kellareal quotes. Maybe I’ll publish them someday and market to fans of Yogi Berra sayings.”
He looked blank.
“Let me put it another way. Your relationship with me is the furthest thing from non-interference.”