My father had been reaping souls long before God had intervened … he was, as recently as eighteen years ago, tricking good people like Jemma’s father into selling their souls … and since then, he’d all but given up on actually ruling Hell … which, while it meant he was no longer doing despicable things, he was letting the kingdom slowly die.

But God was just as complicit in ruining the balance between Heaven and Hell … and She had also planned to make a slave out of me, a minion, caged forever in Purgatory to judge souls, while She continued to live her cushy life in her opulent Heavenly High Rise, taking all the credit for everything.

And then there was Hellen. Who, I thought, probably did really care about Hell. But she was also an evil bitch who thrived on the pain of those who didn’t deserve it. Who had tortured Jemma. My Jemma …

Honestly, I was sick and tired of all of them. Hellen, Father, and bloody God. It was clear to me that in order to fix this mess, once and for all, I had to man up. I had to take my birthright. On my terms. By force if necessary.

I stepped out of the portal.

“Back so soon?” Mike snarked. I blinked the temporary blindness from my eyes. How had I forgotten how sodding bright it was up here? It had been mere hours since I’d left.

“How are your bollocks?” I asked snidely.

Mike scowled. “Fully healed. I am a celestial being, after all.” His eyes flitted behind me, clearly looking for the perpetrator of the crime against his nethers, before they returned to me, and my bundle, warily.

Gabe and Raphe flanked him, and they didn’t even bother to hide their surprise. Their mouths gaped wider when they noticed the frail man in my arms—corporeal again now he was in a realm for souls.

“Who the bugger is that?” Raphe demanded, while Gabe swallowed audibly and muttered, “How the blast did you portal into Heaven?”

I smirked, hoping my expression was cocky and not nervous. “According to you fellows, the rule is merely that … She … is the only one who can create portals to leave Heaven. No one said a word about entering.”

The three archangels exchanged a loaded glance as I took in my surroundings. Just as I had calculated, the portal had set us down in the foyer … and at the end, by his pearly reception desk, Pete watched with beady eyes.

I strode past the gawping trio, my long legs eating up the space. Mr Bliss stirred in my arms, moaning hoarsely.

“It’s alright, sir,” I muttered. “I’ll see you safe.”

“W-what in Heaven’s name have you b-brought with you this time?” Pete demanded crisply. He folded his spindly arms over his puny chest. “A bundle of r-rags?”