Diego’s Dance with Death - 1. Two Brothers Meet in a Bar

“What do you mean, you’re dating Death? And why are you suddenly listed as decommissioned?”

Sablo stared at his brother, who was slumped over a glass of whisky. They were in a familiar human bar, but none of the few other patrons could see or hear them. Guardian Angels were invisible whether they were on duty or not. Not that anyone there would have bothered two cops having an argument in heated whispers, when they were alive.

“I asked to be DOR’ed.¹ Leave me alone.”

“I never did before, so what makes you think I’d abandon you now?”

“Following me got you killed.”

“Following your footsteps got me out of the slums and away from a probable life of crime. It gave us thirty-five great years together as Marines, cops, and brothers. I don’t regret a single moment, including taking out that nest of evil child-traffickers, even though it cost us our lives.”

A wry smile pulled at Diego’s lips. “No one wanted to believe us, or maybe they were paid to turn a blind eye. Senator Holy-as-Fuck had to scramble to cover up his son’s demise – serves him right.”

“I don’t think he knew what his son was doing, but his influence made it impossible to do it by the book.”

“So instead, the two of us go in alone, catch them in the act, and get ourselves killed like a pair of idiots.”

“But the kids survived because you threw yourself in front of them.”

“And the kids got away because you went in there like a madman, wiping out all the vipers before we bled to death.”

“I guess both of us had a date with Death that night. But we woke up to another chance of guarding the innocent.”

Sablo held his brother’s gaze, reliving the moment a searing, bright light had chased away the pain and the encroaching darkness. Moments, or an eternity, later, they had been welcomed in Guardian Central as Angel recruits and embarked on an intensive evaluation and training course. Neither of them had looked back.

“I never believed Mama’s silly stories about angels, but she wasn’t that far off. She’d be proud to see you now.”

“What about Theliel?”

“What about him? She’d have loved him, as long as he makes you happy. You think Mama would’ve cared he’s a dude? Or worse, a bloody Cupid?”

“I don’t know. She died before I could tell her about liking guys. And Theo’s not bad for a Cupid.”

“I’m glad you have him, bro.”

“Did I tell you we met up on our latest assignments?”

“You mentioned it, but no details. Were you successful?”

Sablo launched into the story, trying to make his brother laugh over the antics of the boisterous imp, who had teased and taunted not only Cupid and Guardian, but also the haughty blue angel from the A.I. team. When he’d finished telling about protecting the Danish boy with the heart condition, Diego only had one comment.

“Glad your charge survived. Hope you get someone long-term next.”

“Diego, tell me why you’re inactive.”

“I got fed up with Death stalking me.”

“What!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know he’s not really stalking me, but all ten of my last charges died. I couldn’t prevent it, no matter how much I tried.”

Anguished blue eyes, the same color as his own, stared into the distance, as Diego ran a large hand through the short blond curls on the top of his skull. Unlike Sablo, who kept his hair long, to the delight of his lover, Diego stayed with the crew cut at the sides but let a couple of inches grow front to back. Together with the smoky tattoos flowing over his tanned, muscular chest, shoulders and arms, and the army boots and fatigues, this gave him a total badass look.

“They’re sending you into combat areas, aren’t they?”

“Disaster zones, terrorist attacks, civil wars, you name it. Even before the last ten, I saved less than half my kids. I’ve seen too much of Death, and I can’t stand it anymore.”

Sablo didn’t know which question to ask first. He wanted to know if Diego really saw Death personified. It hadn’t happened to him, when people died around humans he guarded, but admittedly, he’d only had five cases so far, four of which had been short-term. His only long-term case had passed over after living a long and satisfying life, as he’d told Theliel when they met.

Pushing aside his personal curiosity, Sablo asked the other important question. “Did you ask Central why they’re assigning a Guardian to such high risk cases?”

“Did I ask…? You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t question orders from GC.”

Sablo rolled his eyes. Maybe it was Theo’s bad influence, but even before they’d died, Diablo had been a by the rules cop, and Sablo was a gut feeling cop. They made a good team that way, even though his instincts got them in trouble more than once.

“I’m not asking you to defy orders, bro. But aren’t you rebelling by requesting deactivation?”

“I just filled out the D.O.R form. They could’ve refused.”

“There’s a form? Milde Makrel.”

“What?”

“Never mind, just a Danish expression I learnt on my last mission. What did you give as the reason?”

“You don’t have to give a reason.” He knocked back the rest of his whisky.

“Come on, Diego.”

“Fine. I wrote I needed a break from Death.”

“With a capital D?”

“Huh?”

“Death with a capital D? As in Death personified? The Angel Azrael?”

Diego’s face would have made Sablo laugh if he hadn’t felt so worried for his big brother.

“Yeah, I did, but I never thought about it at the time.”

“Tell me what happens when one of your charges die?”

“Fuck off. Why do you want to pry into my failures?”

“For fanden da. Maybe you’re not failing your duty.”

“Mom would still smack you for swearing in Danish.”

“Don’t change the subject. What were your orders on the last ten assignments? Do you recall the exact words?”

“They’re in my notebook.” He dug into a front pocket on his fatigues and produced a small purple book with silver edges. “I fill out a page for each kid, with their name and other data, the orders, and the outcome.”

As his brother rifled through the book, Sablo bit back a curse. “You’ve filled a lot of pages. Are they all kids?”

“Ninety-nine children of all ages during the time we’ve been here. Forty survived, but for most of those, Death came for members of their families.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Not your fault.”

“But I’ve been too busy with my own stuff. If I’d spent more time with you….”

“Nothing you could’ve done.”

“We’ll see about that. Tell me the exact wording of your orders, starting with the most recent case.”

“All right, you stubborn bastard. Here we go.”

Ten minutes later, they were both staring at the notes Sablo had made. The evidence was overwhelming.

“Almost all the ones who died came with the order to ‘shield and succor unto Death.’ Nothing like my orders to protect and guard against danger.”

“I thought those were standard orders, but you’re saying they’re not.”

“Well, I’ve never had cases like yours. But you can see the pattern, right? Those kids were going to have terrible, painful deaths from violence, fire, drowning, or natural disasters. Your presence wasn’t meant to keep them from dying, but to ease their way.”

Sablo put his arm around his brother’s shoulders and pretended not to see his moist eyes.

“And most of the kids who survived had the extra tag line ‘or delivery from danger.’ But so did several of those who died.”

“You also had survivor kids with different orders. More like one of my short-term missions.”

“Yeah, but I never noticed, because they were scattered among the others. But now I can see they usually came after I did the worst ones. Like a sort of respite, only the fuckers at GC never told me.”

“We’ll deal with those idiots later. But you can see you don’t have to feel guilty, OK? You did your duty and helped those kids, as you were meant to.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“My instincts are infallible. You know that.”

“Arrogant bastard.” Diego slapped the back of his brother’s head before Sablo could duck.

“Hey, cut it out! OK, now tell me what happens as the kids or people around them die.”

“What difference does that make? I just wanna forget about it.”

Sablo got up and walked over to the bar. When he was sure no one was looking at the spot where he was standing, he dug out some money and turned visible. As he did, his leather pants morphed into a police uniform, with a blue shirt covering his naked torso. After getting two single-malts from the bartender, he returned to Diego, who was looking pale and even shakier than before.

“Here, you look like you need another drink or two.”

“So would you if you kept seeing the Angel of Death.”

“Go on.”

“OK then. The moment before my charge passes, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Next thing I know, Death hovers in front of me, or beside me, and I hold the kid out to them. Or if it’s someone else, the Angel points a hand to them where they stand or sit or whatever.”

“Fucking spooky. Then what?”

“This bright spark flows from the victim into Azrael’s cloak, and I’m left standing or sitting with the dead body.”

Diego gulped the rest of his whisky, and Sablo pushed the full glass over. “And? Do you say anything to each other?”

“There’s nothing to say. I get the fuck out of there, pronto.”

“What does the Angel of Death look like?”

“Tall, pale, long black hair, dark eyes which burn into yours. Handsome face, I suppose, like those statues at the Met.”

“Male or female?”

“Not sure, the body is always shrouded in mist and a grey cloak, but the hands look strong. Anyway, who cares?”

Sablo smirked. “I know you don’t. I was just curious.”

Diego scowled at this reminder of him being bisexual. “Wipe that grin off your face, before I do it for you, Mister Nosy. You can join me on my next mission and see for yourself.”

“I thought you were inactive.”

“Apparently that’s been revoked.” Diego pulled his daggers from below the table and, true enough, they were no longer dark but had the same golden glow as Sablo’s sword.

“Let’s get back to GC. Later, maybe, we should pay Ayil at CC a visit.”

“Theo’s boss? Why the fuck would you…?”

Before Diego could finish his objections, Sablo had grabbed his hand and ‘ported them.