*Chapter Five: A Deal With the Devil*

Andrew peered ahead of him with his emerald green eyes. There was no sign of Monica at all. He stopped at sight of a rattlesnake encircling his feet. The angel of death put his hands on his knees and took heavy breaths. Where had Monica gone? There were no other paths leading further into the woods for a while, and the Irish angel hadn't gotten that much of a lead on him. She couldn't just disappear.

Then his eyes gazed upon a tree root jutting out of the ground about five feet away. There were impression marks upon the ground. He could just barely make out her hand and footprints. She had fallen. Was his friend okay?

What had happened a few minutes ago was surprising for him. Sam was right. Monica did need healing and someone to help her get it. That person was he. But he scolded himself for pestering her. It was the wrong thing to do. If only he could've realized that at the moment.

At the sound of a hiss below him, Andrew's thoughts went back to the rattlesnake.

"Get!" he ordered in a commanding voice that echoed through the forest. The rattlesnake quickly slithered away but stopped to hiss and shake it's rattle one more time as of a threat. Andrew glared at it and, finally, the snake fled into the brush.

Once again, the angel of death peered up the trail that led into town and wondered where his friend had gone. Oh how he wished he hadn't upset her like that. But usually, like in the past, she hadn't been disturbed so easily. He had always thought of her as an easygoing person—one who was slow to anger.

Then it hit him: the rattlesnake.

Was it just he, or was the snake's appearance there more than pure coincidental. Of course, he didn't exactly believe in coincidence. But still, hadn't that sign of Satan appeared more than once in past assignments, representing evil, striking and getting in the way of whatever good was supposed to take place? That made Andrew even more worried about his friend.

******

Before Monica could object, the sly figure of Monique snapped her fingers and everything became dark, the world became oblivious, and God was nowhere in presence.

"I've got a lot to do so if you'll cooperate right away, this may go quicker than usual," the demon's voice rang. "But of course, there's always a chance that you won't cooperate just like your stubborn little angelic self. And if you don't want to experience, see, or hear pain, don't make me loose my temper. Thank you."

"I didn't say I wanted to accept your offer, Monique," the angel snapped, looking directly into her opponent's red eyes.

"Didn't I tell you about your stubbornness. Now, honey, don't get me wrong, but you've been wanting the pain to stop for many days, weeks, months…" Monique's voice trailed off. "Right?" she hissed.

"Yes," the Irish angel quivered. She hung her head, embarrassed to give in to the devil's questions. "So?" she pressed.

"So have I got a deal for you, Monica," she laughed, holding up a hand. "Just take my hand and I'll lead you to the person who's going to make it all happen."

"But I don't understand what it is…" Monica started.

"You don't have to, honey, 'cause, boy, oh, boy, are you going to find out. I can guarantee you that you won't regret this. You won't regret this at all," she laughed hysterically.

Monica's brown eyes focussed on Monique's outstretched hand. The neatly manicured fingernails were painted venom red, playing the angel's mind. Slowly, she lifted her own hand and reached for her opponents but failed to touch Monique's fingertips. The demon still held her hand out still, tempting the angel with all the power that was in her.

If I hold her hand, all the pain will be gone, Monica thought. But is this the right way to get rid of it? Oh Father, what do I do now?
"Don't think that I can't hear your silent prayers," Monique whispered into the angel's ear. "Just take my hand, Monica, and the pain will soon be gone. You won't feel anything," she tempted.

"But I'm an angel and would like to remain one," Monica said quickly in an upset lilt.

"And that you will." The demon flashed Monica a red glare, a sly grin playing her lush ruby lips. She lifted her hand up into the air right in front of the angel's face. Finally, Monica met fingers with her opponent, and Monique grasped her hand tightly. "Until you wish that you weren't," the demon mumbled under her breath so that Monica couldn't hear her.

******

Rose walked into a small bar a few blocks from where she had last seen her supervisor. Why had she told her to come in this shabby place? What was an angel's job in a bar? There were so many questions that she had no answers to. After all, this was her first assignment without Monica. How was she supposed to get along?

Putting her glasses on to get a better view of the building, Rose met eyes with a heavyset man who was seated at the counter.

"Now tell me, good-looking, what's a nice girl like you doing here in a filthy place like this?" he asked in a gruff but friendly voice. The angel could tell that he wasn't such a clean man himself by the way he dressed in a plain gray T-shirt. Bristly whiskers covered his lower face, and his brown eyes lighted up, waiting for an answer.

"Well," Rose began, smiling as politely as possible. "I have some business here tonight," she managed.

"Business? Oh, lady, you're not with that group that's coming in her tonight. Not a young girl like you?" the man asked.

"Well, I'm not quite sure. You see, I was told to go here and…" her young voice trailed off.

"Honey, you just might be in the wrong place. This is not a place for pretty women like you. Say, I didn't catch your name. You can call me Jeff." The man stood up and crossed his arms. "I'm the owner of this place."

"Well, Jeff, my name is…a…Rose," the angel said with a gulp. "I'm an ang…new to this business," she said quickly. So many times she had come too close to announcing her true identity. Suddenly a middle-aged man walked through the back door.

"Hey, Joe, this girl part of your party?" Jeff asked the newcomer. Joe shrugged.

"That all depends. We ordered a few newbies. She may be one of them. You'll have to take it up with the boss," Joe said, studying Rose carefully. He finally turned away and found a seat at the counter. "The rest of the boys should be here any minute, Jeff. Could you ready a few drinks?"

"Sure. Why don't you talk to this lady a little bit." Jeff grinned and motioned to Rose. Rose looked around quickly and blushed.

"So what's your name, honey?" Joe asked the angel curiously. He led her over to a small table in the corner. Rose could see his many tattoos that lined his arms and covered his bald head. He wore a leather vest and rugged jeans.

"Well, my name is Rose," she answered meekly.

"Tell me, honey, you doing business with me tonight? If so, I like your attire. Sure is a good disguise." Joe eyed her formal denim skirt and white blouse.

"I'm not quite sure," the angel mumbled quietly.

"Oh, it's okay, Rose. Jeff always knows about this stuff. There's no need to keep it a secret from him. Actually, to tell you the truth, he's my big bro." Joe gave a quick glance at Jeff.

"I would have never guessed," Rose said in a surprised tone. "There's no real resemblance."

"I know. Say, you don't really seem the type. You sure you've got the right place? There's many bars around here. You might have gotten them confused."

"No, my supervisor…I mean…well she told me that I'd find my party here." Rose shrugged. "She has had a lot of experience and knows what she's talking about."

"Your supervisor?" Joe asked curiously. "Who's the lady you happen to be doing business with?"

Unsure of whether or not she should give out any names Rose replied: "She has a beautiful Irish accent and a wonderful smile. She's small and has auburn hair." Rose decided not to give out any more information.

"Ah, you mean Monica? That woman is one of a kind. Sort of a split personality if you know what I mean." Joe stopped and looked at Rose. "That is who you're talking about, ain't it? She's the only one in town with an Irish accent."

"Yes, Monica," Rose answered.

"How long have you known her?" Joe asked curiously. "She's been in our business for quite a while."

"For about three years," the young angel replied.

"Been working with that woman for that long? Wow. You sure are in to this stuff. I guess I judged you by your personality and looks. But that's good to be the way you are. No one would ever suspect anything," Joe said. He still studied Rose with his dark eyes.

No one would ever suspect anything? Rose pondered Joe's words in her mind. What kind of business exactly was she getting herself into?

"Yeah," Rose said uneasily. "I guess not."

"Look, here come some more of the boys now, along with the two other newbies," Joe spoke. "Yo, Jesse, Matt, over here!" he yelled with a smile sleeking over his face. "Here's your other newbie." Joe pointed to Rose.

"Is this the one that Monica lady sent?" Jesse asked, slumping down into a chair next to Joe. His spiked brown hair was set straight on top of his head with gel. Like the other guys in this unusual party, Jesse also had tattoos covering his skin.

"Yep. Rose here says that she's been working for three years with Monica. And she doesn't even look the type, does she?" Joe asked his partners.

"Not at all," Jesse said, casting playful glances at Rose. "But sure is good looking." He and the other men let out laughs.

The men couldn't possibly mean the angel business, could they? They sure didn't act or look like angels.

"Well, let's get a move on this," Matt called, pointing at the clock that hung on the peeling wallpaper. "It's time!" The group of men and few women chorused in whistles of agreement.

"What do you want me to do?" Rose asked nervously.

"Now, sweet heart, just do what you always do; what your heart is longing for you to commit," laughed Joe. "You said you've been doing this for three years. Show us!"

Rose slowly followed the crowd of gang members out the door but first stop to face Jeff.

"Now, Rose, honey, you don't seem the right kind of person to do this sort of stuff. Are you sure you want to pull this off?" the owner asked solemnly. "You don't have to listen to my bro and his gang. They're just a bunch of madmen looking for their prey."

"This is what Monica wants me to do, Jeff. I have to listen to her," the angel replied quietly. "I'm not even quite sure what's in store for me out there tonight," she mumbled under her breath.

"Monica? Did you say Monica? You have to be mistaken. Monica is a sweet little girl. She'd never tell you to do something like this!" Jeff exclaimed in surprise. Rose shrugged.

"I've been listening to her for quite a while now. I don't think I can just back out on this—whatever this is."

"Just remember, Rose, God is watching you, and God knows your every thought. Be careful, good-looking, and please, if those guys don't convince you to do this, that there's always a warm place here for you." The owner looked at her solemnly and sighed. "Well, I have to get back to my dishwashing. There's a lot of work to do here." Rose nodded.

"Thank you, Jeff. I'll remember what you said."

The angel followed the men out into the small town, not knowing exactly what was in store for her.

"Oh, Father," Jeff prayed back in the bar. "There's definitely something familiar about that young lady. Please don't let anything happen to her. And Monica? I don't understand. Monica wouldn't do anything like this."