The angel stood before me, glowing softly, their wings folded behind them, but still almost filling the doorway.   “You...You’re a...”   “I am Zahriel,” they said, “an Angel of the Lord.”   “Holy shit,” I whispered, earning that reproachful look again. “Sorry. I just...You’re really an angel.” I don’t know why I was surprised, considering that I’d just spent the last hour with a demon. Azir, however, had at least looked human. This being wasn’t even trying to blend in. “What are you doing here?”   “Setting things right,” Zahriel said with a frown. They regarded me for a moment, then sighed. “I really hate this part of the job.”   I stared, wide-eyed, as the angel drew a long, shining sword from somewhere within the folds of their robes. Blue-white tongues of flame danced along the blade as Zahriel raised the sword in the air and stepped toward me.   I scrambled back with a yell, tripping over my discarded shoes and falling hard against the cold, tiled wall beside the toilet. As the sword swung down toward me, I raised one arm, holding out my hand as if I could ward off the blow. There was a crackle and a rumble like thunder, and Zahriel reeled backward, wings flapping to help them maintain their balance, knocking crap off shelves and clearing the top of my dresser as they stumbled back into my bedroom.   Heart pounding, I slowly straightened up, tearing my gaze from the dazed angel to look down at my hand, where the demon’s mark blazed with the light of hellfire.   “What the hell just happened?” I asked.   “Exactly,” Zahriel said, putting their sword away and giving me a disgusted look. “I can’t believe you let that infernal creature mark you.”   “Well, it looks like it’s a good thing I did,” I said. “You tried to kill me!”   “You’re supposed to be dead,” Zahriel said. “You should have died tonight in a car accident.”   “Says who?” I asked, earning another look from the frustrated angel. “Oh, right. But why? Why was I supposed to die?”   “I don’t know,” they said. “I am not privy to God’s Plan, I am simply sent to set it right when things go awry. Now, will you allow me to do my job and end your life before you cause any more trouble?”   “Hell no,” I said. After everything I went to to escape death, I was not about to surrender to it now. “What do you mean, more trouble ? I haven’t done anything.”   “Except not die,” Zahriel said darkly. “And because you didn’t die, the man who hit you will not be charged with manslaughter and will not serve fifteen years in prison. He will get six months for DUI, and in seven months he will be back behind the wheel, drunk once again, and this time he will plow his car into a minivan, killing a mother and her three young children. The father of those children, overcome with grief, will take his own life, and you will be responsible for the deaths of five innocent people, all because you cannot accept that your time is up.”   I stared at him in disbelief and horror. If I was pretty sure that demons couldn’t lie, then I imagined that angels couldn’t, either, and if what he said was true...could I really live with so much blood on my hands?   “Hang on,” I said after a moment, a frown creasing my brow. “How would killing me now stop any of that from happening? I’m sure by now the scene has been cleared and they know he didn’t kill anyone. And besides, his drunk driving is not my fault. If you want to stop that family from dying, go kill the guy who is really responsible.”   “Okay, fine, that was a poor example,” Zahriel said, wings flicking in annoyance. “It made for a better visual, since you humans have a hard time grasping the intricacy and importance of the Plan. What you can’t understand, is that from now on, every action you take, every life you intersect, is going to deviate from the Plan, and each deviation is going to cause further ripples.”   “So?” I asked, throwing my hands up. “What’s so bad about a little deviation? Will the world end if things don’t go according to the Plan?”   “No, of course not—”   “Then what’s the big deal?”   “You just don’t get it!” Zahriel exclaimed. “None of you do. The Plan is perfect . Any deviation and it can’t be perfect!”   “Are you telling me that this world, with all the war, and hunger, and hate, and sickness, and fear, and bigotry— This is Gods idea of perfection?”   “Of course not,” the angel said, running a hand back through their long hair. “All of that is what you get when you don’t stick to the Plan. Little deviations that compound into chaos. That’s why I have to set things right, and why you must let me do my job.” Zahriel reached for the sword again, but I held up my demon marked hand, stopping them.   “Hang on. You don’t seriously expect me to believe that all of that is my fault, and that killing me will miraculously set everything right, do you?”   “No, although it would make things infinitely easier if you did.”   I was starting to get chilly, standing in my bathroom in just my boxer shorts, and it was way past my bedtime. If I wanted to get to work on time in the morning, I needed to get this angel to go away.   “All right, so if my death won’t fix everything, will it fix anything? Will the world really be a better place without me?”   Zahriel hesitated and I knew I had them. After a moment, they shook their head. “Not that I can see. But,” they stressed, “I cannot see the entirety of the Plan. It’s possible...”   “Yeah, but not probable,” I said. I was under no illusions that I was anyone important. “Okay, then. Thanks for stopping by. I have work in the morning, so I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”   Zahriel regarded me for a moment, a look of defeat on their beautiful face, then they sighed and disappeared. I expected a flash of light or a flurry of wings, something showy like Azir’s fiery departure, but I just blinked and they were gone.   Slowly, I poked my head out of the bathroom, looking around to make sure they were gone. A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped me in a noisy rush as I sagged against the doorjamb. My legs suddenly didn’t want to hold me up. Shaking, I staggered back into the bathroom to take a quick shower.   I had escaped death yet again, this time at the hands of a freaking angel! At that moment, I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder. Boy, was I wrong.   ~*~*~*~   In the morning, I was almost able to convince myself that the previous night had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare, except for two things. My asshole was a little sore and I had a glowing demon’s mark on the palm of my hand. I wasn’t sure which was more distressing, honestly.   Work was a welcome distraction, but too soon I found myself driving home, more than a little preoccupied wondering what, if anything, was going to happen that night. Azir had said they would work around my schedule, but since I had exaggerated when I’d claimed to have a life, now that work was over, my night was pretty wide open.   So I wasn’t all that surprised when I missed my exit, just a little annoyed. The next exit was about four miles further, so instead of getting back on the freeway, I just headed through the city for home. I was not real familiar with that part of town, but I new the general direction I needed to drive and figured I’d recognize something eventually. Besides, the longer it took me to get home, the better.   I was driving through a dark, industrial-looking part of town, the buildings very boxy and made of dirty brick, when the mark on my palm suddenly flared to life, lighting up the interior of my car and crackling like an open flame. Surprised, I stomped on my brake, the car lurching to a stop. Fortunately, this was a desolate street with no other traffic. While I was trying to figure out what was going on with the mark, someone ran up to the passenger’s side door and began banging on the window, making me jump.   “Let me in, please!” a voice implored. It sounded like a young man, but all I could see in the twilight was a dirty T-shirt and ripped jeans. “Hurry, they’re gonna get me!” He sounded absolutely panicked and I didn’t even think, I just unlocked the doors.   “Get in!” I shouted. He jerked the door open and dropped into the seat, barely getting his legs inside before slamming the door shut.   “Go! Go, get out of here!” he shouted. I could see figures approaching the car, at least half a dozen of them, and I hit the door locks and the gas at the same time, my tires chirping on the damp pavement as we raced up the street and squealed around the next corner. The young man turned halfway around in the seat to look out the back window. “I think we lost them,” he panted. He flopped into the seat with a sigh. “Thanks, cousin. You really saved my ass.”   “Cousin?” I said, slowing down as I took my first good look at him. Not to sound judgmental, but he looked homeless, his clothes stained and torn, his exposed skin dirty or bruised, his hair lank and tangled, either dark blond or light brown, it was hard to tell in the dim light of the car. He was thin and lanky, no more than his mid-twenties, and certainly no relation of mine.   He glanced over at me and I watched a look of horror spread across his features. He grabbed for the door handle, jerking on it, but I had locked the doors and it wouldn’t open. “Let me out!” he shouted, banging his fist against the window.   “Hey, hey, take it easy!” I said, reaching out to calm him, but it had the opposite effect.   “Don’t touch me!” he screamed, nearly hysterical. “Don’t touch me! Let me out!”   “All right, I won’t touch you,” I said, jerking my hand back and trying to keep my eyes on the road. “Just calm down, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”   He went still and silent, his body pressed up against the door, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. “You...you won’t?” he asked, looking confused. “But...you’re human.”   “Yeah, so? You mean you’re not?”   “No,” he replied, sending a chill down my spine. “I’m an incubus.”   I hit the brakes again, both of us lurching in our seats. “Okay, you can get out now.” I unlocked the doors and waited for him to run off, but he didn’t move. “C’mon, I thought you wanted out.”   He glanced out the window, at the quiet, residential street. “Not here. The suburbs are just full of horny, repressed, middle-aged men.” He shuddered. “They’d tear me apart.”   I regarded him for a moment, so small and fragile-looking, huddled against the door, and then I began to drive again. “So, where would you like me to drop you off?”   “I don’t know,” he said, a catch in his voice, like he was fighting tears. “Someplace where there are no humans.”   I thought back to where I had found him, that dark, run-down corner of the city. Was he hiding there to avoid people? Was that why he looked so ragged and half-starved?   “I’m sorry, I don’t know a place like that,” I said. “I’ve never met an incubus before. You’re...not what I expected.”   “Neither are you,” he said, giving me another hard look. “What makes you so different?”   I shrugged and held up my hand, showing him the demon mark. “Maybe it’s this.”   “That must have been what I saw,” he said. “I called for help, hoping a there was a demon in the area who could save me. I saw the hellfire in your car and thought you were one of us.”   “Do demons do that, rescue each other?” I asked, frowning. That didn’t seem like a very demonic thing to do.   “Demons will do anything, as long as they get something out of it,” the incubus said, looking out the window. “Still, better to be fucked by one demon than a dozen humans.”   “Yeah, I guess—hey, wait a second,” I said. “How could you be fucked by a demon? They don’t have the equipment.”   The incubus snorted, fogging up the inside of the glass. “I guess I know how you got your mark,” he said. “I was speaking metaphorically. It wouldn’t have been a physical fucking, more like a rape of my spirit, if that paints a more believable picture for you.”   I stopped at a streetlight and glanced around, surprised to recognize the area. “Listen, if you have somewhere you want to go, I can take you there, otherwise...” God, this was such a bad idea. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you could come home with me. You’d be safe there until we can find a place for you.”   “You would do that?” he asked, giving me a wary look. “Why?”   “Because I’m not a demon,” I said. “And because I was recently told my existence is a mistake that will make the world an even worse place, and I’d kind of like to prove that feathered dickwad wrong.”   Beside me, the incubus laughed. He was actually pretty good looking, for a scrawny kid.   “Met an angel, did you? You’re lucky to still be breathing.”   “Tell me about it,” I said. The light finally changed and I headed for home. “If it wasn’t for this mark, I wouldn’t be.”   “No, that couldn’t be it,” he said. “A demon’s mark isn’t powerful enough to repel an angel, unless...” He suddenly sat up in the seat. “Let me see that again.” I held out my hand and he squinted at the mark for a moment, then he gasped. “I know that mark. What was his name?”   “He said it was Azir, but it’s probably made up. He didn’t want to tell me at all.” That reminded me… “Speaking of names, what should I call you?” His expression turned very dark, his eyes shadowed and haunted.   “I, um...I don’t have a name,” he said, his voice soft. “The humans who created me, they called me Subject 52A, but I don’t want to be called that ever again.”   “No, I don’t imagine you would,” I said, trying to make sense of what he’d just told me. “I’m sorry, but I know absolutely nothing about incubuses—”   “Incubi,” he said, speaking to the window, his face turned away. “We’re called incubi.”   “Okay, now I know that, at least,” I said, hoping to coax a smile out of him and failing. “What do you mean that you were ‘created’? Do you mean when you were born? Did your parents call you that?”   He shook his head. “Incubi aren’t born. We’re a type of lesser demon, created in moments of intense desire and physical pleasure. I was created by a coven of witches, several of whom were also scientists. They wanted to study an incubus, to analyze our body chemistry and find out why we’re so alluring. Turns out it’s pheromones. But they had tried for several years to catch an incubus without success, so they decided to just make one of their own. One night, they had an orgy and I was the result.”   “And then they studied you?” I asked, appalled.   “For years,” he said, his voice flat, lifeless. “As a demon, I don’t eat, or age, or die, but because I’m an incubus, I subsist on sex and pleasure. They would bring in humans off the street and watch them fuck me. Then they wanted to see what happened when I didn’t get sex, so they starved me. They tested drugs on me and did spells, trying to counteract my pheromones. I don’t know if they wanted to cure me, or find an antidote, or what.”   “That’s awful. How did you get away from them?”   “They were also playing around with the dark arts, trying to summon and control true demons. Big mistake.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was no humor in it. “One night I was roused by a loud noise. The building shook and the lights flickered. I heard screaming, then silence. The demon found me and set me free, then disappeared. I was curious and went looking for the humans. I found them in pieces, each with a demon’s mark burned into their foreheads. I’m pretty sure it’s the same mark you bear.”   I glanced down at the shimmering pentagram on my palm and shuddered. It was hard to imagine Azir slaughtering people like that. Not that they didn’t deserve it, I supposed. What was wrong with me? Was I becoming a demon sympathizer?   Turning into my driveway, I reached up and pushed the button on the garage remote tucked above my visor. As we pulled inside, the incubus tensed, looking around in obvious unease.   “It’s okay,” I said, shutting off the engine and triggering the door to close again. “This is my home. You’re safe here.” I climbed out of the car and he nervously followed me into the house. “Are you hungry?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.   “Starving,” he replied.   I reached for the refrigerator, but stopped before opening it. “Wait, I thought you said you don’t eat—” I suddenly realized what he meant. “Oh. Ohhhh. When was the last time you, um...”   “A week ago some guys caught me in an old subway tunnel.”   My gaze dropped to the fading bruises on his arms. “Oh. Maybe this is a dumb question, but can’t you go out and find someone to have, you know, consensual sex with? Isn’t that what incubi are supposed to do?”   “Yeah, that’s what we’re supposed to do,” he said quietly, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t know if what they did changed me, or if it’s just because I’ve been hungry for so long, but my pheromones are much stronger than they should be. I should be alluring, enticing, not overwhelmingly irresistible.”   “So, you can’t have consensual sex because everyone who gets near you tries to rape you? That sucks.”   “No kidding,” he said, slouching against the wall with his hands in his pockets. “It’s not everyone, though, just men.”   “Still, that’s—” I frowned. “Hang on, I thought incubi attracted women. Or do I have that wrong?”   “It depends. The coven decided that the target of the pheromones depends on the sexuality of the primary participants in the creation event, and since this coven was made up of men, that’s who I attract.”   “Wait, men can be witches?” I asked, then shook my head. “Never mind, not important. Have you tried to find a woman to have consensual sex with?”   He made a face. “I’m not really into women, but yeah, I’ve tried. It didn’t work. I can only draw sustenance from men.”   “Well, I’m out of ideas, then,” I said, opening my fridge. He might not be able to eat, but I needed to. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to stop by the grocery store on my way home. I stood staring at the half a bottle of ketchup and block of cheese, then shut the door again with a sigh. “Guess I’m ordering in.”   I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through the various delivery apps. I decided on pizza—pepperoni, black olives, and tomatoes with a side of cheesy garlic bread. Thanks to the pandemic, they offered contactless delivery, which I opted for. Opening the door to a guy might prove disastrous.   With dinner on the way, I turned my attention to more immediate matters. Specifically, the dirty, starving incubus in my kitchen. One of those problems I could fix, at least. I found him some clean clothes he could borrow, although I suspected the sweats would be too big, and pointed him toward the guest bathroom so he could take a shower. I waited until I heard the water running, then sank down at the foot of my stairs and cradled my head in my hands.   What the hell was I doing? Did I really just bring an incubus into my home like some kind of stray cat? What was I going to do with him? Would he really be safe here, or would I wake in the night with my neighbors breaking my windows to get to him?   I didn’t believe in coincidences, so the fact that I took a wrong turn and found him, and I was the one guy who wasn’t affected by him, it had to mean something. Maybe I was the only one who could save him. But if that was true, I had no idea how to do it. Well, I had some idea, but after the way he freaked out in the car when I tried to touch him, I wasn’t about to suggest anything.   I jumped as someone knocked on the front door. Damn it, didn’t those delivery guys ever read the instructions?   “Just leave it on the porch, thank you,” I called. “I left you a tip in the app.” I waited a moment to make sure they were gone, then stood up. As I stepped toward the door, the knock came again, louder and more insistent. “What the hell?”   I looked out through the peephole and felt my heart sink. Standing on the porch, holding my pizza, was Azir. The demon grinned.   “Open up, Eddie, my boy,” he said. “I know you’re in there and I have someone here who is just dying to meet you.”   I groaned. “Now’s really not a good time,” I said, turning away from the door to listen for the shower. It was still running. I glanced back out the peephole, but the porch was empty. My relief was fleeting, however. I heard a noise in the kitchen and rushed in to find Azir sitting on my counter, the pizza box beside him. I opened my mouth to tell him to get down and get out, but then something scrambled out from under my kitchen table, claws scrabbling across the tiled floor as it came straight at me.