Chapter 8: Celestial Business

They've been driving in silence for nearly twenty minutes. Jenny is still processing everything that's happened. The woman handles the car like she's been doing it her whole life—graceful, unhurried. The sun breaks over the horizon, casting gold across the quiet suburban streets of Calabasas. Jenny sits in the passenger seat, arms crossed, her eyes half-closed against the light.

The woman turns down the long private road leading to Jenny's estate. The hedges lining the driveway are overgrown, and the security cameras blink steadily, untouched by death or resurrection.

"Home sweet home," Jenny mutters with a sigh of relief.

They roll to a stop in front of the tall, wrought-iron gate. Jenny looks up at it with mild frustration.

"Damn. I don't have the remote."

The woman doesn't respond right away. She reaches into the center console, pulls out a small black fob, clicks it once, and the gate begins to creak open.

Jenny blinks. "How the hell do you have that?"

The woman looks at her and says, "I've been given everything I need to serve you."

There's no smugness in her tone. No condescension. Just calm certainty. Jenny hates how disarming it is.

They pull into the parking lot, passing under the shadow of the old sycamore tree that Jenny keeps forgetting to have trimmed. All of her cars are there—except for her baby, which she totaled in the wreck.

"I'm taking the day off," Jenny mutters, mostly to herself. "Not like anyone's gonna question it, but I need a mental health day. They'll understand. Shit's all over the news anyway."

The woman parks in front of the house and steps out without a word. She turns, snaps her fingers—and the car disappears.

Jenny stares at where it used to be, then back at her. "Yep," she says. "You are definitely an angel."

The woman doesn't respond. She just walks toward the front door. Jenny follows, stretching her arms as they approach the wooden entrance. She steps in front of the woman and reaches for the handle — only to rip it off, chunks of the door coming with it.

Jenny freezes, holding the mangled handle in her hand. "...Goddammit."

The woman scrunches her face in disapproval.

"You will not use my Father's name in vain!" she scolds, deeply offended.

"Oh, I'm… sorry—"

"That's the first rule," the woman says, cutting her off like a mother disciplining a child. "Secondly, you really need to learn how to control your strength."

"You think?"

"I'll teach you."

Jenny tosses the handle to the floor, awkwardly pulls open what's left of the door, and steps inside. The woman follows close behind. The foyer looks the same—too clean, too cold. Jenny takes off her leather jacket, lets it drop onto the couch, and sinks into the cushions like a dropped weight.

The woman remains standing. "We need to talk."

Jenny glances up from where she's lying. "Yeah, we do. You haven't even told me your name yet."

"Forgive me, Jennifer—"

"Please don't call me that," Jenny says, annoyed. "It's Jenny. That's my first rule."

The woman bows her head slightly, contrite. "My apologies, Jenny. I meant no offense. I am an angel—my mission is to serve you. If Jenny is what you prefer, then Jenny it is."

Jenny gives her a strange look. She's very polite. Almost too much.

The woman continues. "Anyway, I need to tell you what your role is going to be from here on out."

Jenny raises an eyebrow. "This about to get biblical?"

The woman nods and snaps her fingers. Her form changes. The body is mostly the same, but now she has a halo above her head, a flowing white robe, gladiator sandals, and two massive wings folded neatly behind her. A small golden bow is holstered at her side. Her entire figure glows with a golden aura.

Jenny stares. "You're… magnificent."

"I am Naomi the Blessed. Archangel of Heaven. I serve and defend the Celestial Order."

"Celestial Order?"

"Yes," Naomi says. "The divine architecture that holds the universe together. It's the reason you and I exist—and everything else. Think of The Universe as a piece of clothing. The Order is its threads."

Naomi sits across from her, eyes steady. Jenny shifts and turns to face her fully.

"I was assigned to be your guardian angel the moment Father chose to send you back to Earth. When that happened, you were marked. Chosen."

Jenny narrows her eyes. "Marked by who?"

"By Him. By Heaven itself. Father saw something in you. As did Michael. As did Azzy—"

"Azzy?" Jenny laughs. "Is that actually what you call him?"

"I love him," Naomi says, irritated. "And he loves me. I'm the only one he lets call him that."

"Cringe."

"Focus, Jenny."

Jenny sits up, more attentive now.

"You were chosen to return—to serve a greater purpose. But that purpose comes with rules. Structures. A world behind the world."

Jenny rubs her temples. "Michael and Azrael didn't really go in depth about any of this."

"They're Seraphim," Naomi says. "The oldest and highest-ranked among us. They don't always explain themselves. But you were lucky. Most mortals never see them once—let alone twice. Not until they die, anyway."

Jenny eyes her. "And the others?"

"There are more. Countless. You didn't even see all of them up there. We were working. We always are." Her tone shifts, growing darker. "But not all angels serve the Order. Some fell. Some rebelled."

"Yeah," Jenny says. "Like demons? I've heard of them but didn't think they were real."

"They're real," Naomi says. "Agents of that devil, Lucifer. He was once a Seraphim too, but he fell. They all did."

She stands and begins pacing, her voice lower, her gaze distant as she recalls painful memories.

"They started a brutal war in Heaven. Many of us were lost—on both sides. We no longer call them brethren and I'm ashamed I ever did. They're traitors. The worst of us."

"Damn," Jenny murmurs. "I can feel the tension there."

"But there are… other threats too."

Jenny leans forward. "Other threats?"

"Yes," Naomi says. "There are fallen angels who aren't demons—who serve neither Father nor Lucifer. And of course, you humans… you tend to be your own worst enemies. You'll have to fight for peace among your own kind as well."

Jenny's eyes narrow. "So this is a war on literally every possible front? Not just demons, but humans and fallen angels?"

"Precisely," Naomi says, nodding her head. "And as my father told you, Los Angeles seems to be a lightning rod for these forces. This city is like a perfect storm of sin and corruption — demonic, celestial, and human."

"Tell me about it."

"We've done what we can," Naomi says. "But you can do more. You were once human. You can move in ways we cannot."

Silence falls. Outside, wind rustles the trees. Jenny leans back and exhales.

"Great. I die once and suddenly I'm in the fuckin' Avengers."

Naomi smiles faintly. "Only this isn't a feature film."

Jenny doesn't laugh. Naomi's expression hardens.

"And you don't get to turn it off. This is part of the agreement, Jenny. This is how you earn your redemption."

Jenny closes her eyes. Her reality finally sinks in. She lays back down. The burden is heavy. The calling is terrifying. One minute she's in a boardroom chewing out underperformers. The next, she's celestial wrath incarnate.

She sits back up. "Okay. Any more rules?"

"Yes," Naomi says. "No drugs or alcohol. Not even in moderation. You must maintain a sober mind."

Jenny nods slowly. Her stomach dips.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea. I mean… I killed someone, Naomi. I have to live with that no matter how much good I do."

"You can redeem yourself Jenny," Naomi says, placing her right hand on Jenny's shoulder. "Others may judge you, but as your guardian angel that is not my role. Heaven has already judged you. I am here to guide you and protect you as you take on this mantle."

"Wow," Jenny says. "Thanks."

"But you still have to prove yourself to this city. You do that by becoming The Wraith."

Naomi removes her hand. Jenny straightens up. She's only known her for a few hours, and already Naomi can read her.

Naomi looks into her eyes. "Which leads to the next rule: You must never shed human blood, Jenny. You have enough blood on your hands."

Jenny winces. "Never? Like, ever?"

"No. And if you do, it must be justified. Truly justified. Those reasons are few. You may kill demons, however. They are irredeemable."

Jenny exhales. "Alright. So what now?"

"Now," Naomi says, "we begin your first task."

"Which is?"

"Your sister, Regina. You must earn her forgiveness. She's your only sister. She's all you have left."

"Doesn't she need my forgiveness?" Jenny asks. "She set my G-Wagen on fire! I feel bad for abandoning her, and I wanna do better, but... I thought she needed the tough love."

"She has an ailment," Naomi says. "You know she's not always in control of her behavior. And she asked for your forgiveness. You denied it. So now you are in the wrong. And we cannot move forward until this is done."

Jenny sighs. "Yeah. I still love her crazy ass."

"Get ready," Naomi says. "We're going to the halfway house."

"I don't know where it is."

"I do."

Jenny doesn't even question why or how she'd have that information. Of course Naomi knows where her sister is, and she — on the other hand — doesn't. She's an angel. She just knows. Jenny stands up from the couch.

"Okay. But I'm driving."