“This area of the globe is the best that humans have to offer. That’s what you said. That’s why we’re here in this soulless place instead of Mecca or Jerusalem or Vatican City, where the locals would have gotten down on their knees and treated us with proper, old-world respect. Instead, we opted for the equipment, the labs, the highly trained biologists. Remember?” He takes a drink. “You’re the one who wanted to come here. So make it work, Laylah.”

“I’m doing my best.” She takes a sip, staining her lips with dark red. “The latest batch of locusts have the lion’s teeth and women’s hair that you requested, but they can’t work their mouths properly. If you want them closer to the biblical description, we need more time.”

He takes a cigar from a box on the coffee table and offers it to her. “Cigar?”

“No, thank you.” She crosses her model-long legs, which emphasizes her graceful curves and lines as she lounges on the sofa. She looks like an artistic rendering of the perfect feminine form, more like a goddess than an angel.

“Try one. You’ll like it.”

I assume she’ll say no. Even I can tell that a fat, ash-tipped cigar wouldn’t make a good accessory for her. But she hesitates.

“Truly, who knew that the nectar of the gods was meant to be smoked rather than sipped? It’s no wonder so many of our upper echelon have taken to it.”

She leans forward to take it. Her back becomes stiff. Her legs look uncomfortable in her new position. Her fingers look unsure and clumsy as she lights the brown tip.

“The locusts don’t need to be perfect,” says Uriel. “They just need to put on a good show. They don’t even need to survive long—just long enough to wreak havoc, torture humans in good old-fashioned, biblical style, and darken the sky with their numbers.”

Laylah takes a puff. I expect her to cough like an amateur but she doesn’t. She does come close to wrinkling her nose, though. “I’ll try to speed things up.”

“Trying is not a commitment.” Uriel’s voice is smooth but firm.

She takes a deep breath. “I won’t let you down, Archangel.”

“Good. I never doubted it.” He blows smoke. It must be a good cigar. He looks satisfied. He gets up and Laylah follows. “I must make the rounds at the party. Things are probably about to get a little wild down there. When will you be joining the festivities?”

Laylah looks even more uncomfortable, if that’s possible. “I need to get back to work. My staff needs me.”