Demons.
Creatures of myth. Pure fantasy. Still, the feeling in my gut—a strange, twisting notion that make my insides turn liquid—tells me what they’re saying is true. I can’t deny that I’ve felt it. I’ve seen what unexplainable power can do. And if I am able to walk this earth—an inconsequential girl with the ability to bend the wills of others with just a whisper—then I have to believe that there is more out there. Something greater…bigger than all of us.
I have to decide to trust their words. I have to have faith that they won’t hurt me. Realistically, they could have snapped me like a twig a long time ago. Lily could have plunged one of her knives right through my heart before I even knew what was happening.
I shiver.
A haunted memory of a blade in my hands flashes in hues of red before I banish it back to the dark recesses of my mind.
I hear chatter as I slowly make my way down the dimly lit hallway. Now that I have time and the stomach to take this place in, I realize that it’s enormous and incredibly stylish with its exposed brick walls and steel accents. We have to be in some expensive high rise in Near North Side or the Loop. Either way, it’s a far cry from the ramshackle two-bedroom I shared with Sister on the Southside.
Sister.
I pause and close my eyes for just a moment. Another memory for my dark place. I can’t go back there. If I do, it’ll break me.
I enter the open living area and allow myself to see it for the first time. To the left is the living room, complete with panoramic views of the harbor. To the right is a kitchen fit for a gourmet chef, with every high-end appliance imaginable, all in gleaming stainless steel, of course. Beyond that is a wide, heavy door, armed with locks and alarms, and across from where I stand at the mouth of the hallway is the dining area.
The space is filled with light and opulence, the complete opposite of what I’d expect. It’s somewhat cold, yet comfortable. Sleek and elegant in a rugged type of way. This isn’t a dark, decrepit dungeon scattered with the skeletons of innocents. This is a home. And it’s exactly what I would have dreamt for myself—for Sister—if my dreams didn’t horrify me.
“Good! You’re awake!” Lily trills when she sees me stalking in the shadows. She sets her book down on the glass top coffee table and jumps from the plush sectional, waving me over. “Come. Sit with us.”
My eyes dart to the others, who seem completely oblivious to my presence. Yet, I know they’re aware of each one of my movements. Every heartbeat, every intake of breath. I’m almost positive that Lily just made a big show of my arrival for my sake.
The samurai looks up from the laptop balancing on his lap and gives me a smile. He’s beautiful—all of them are. But there’s a cunning to him that screams of trouble. “Hey Eden. Want me to throw on some music?”
I shake my head as I make my way over on wobbly legs. “No, thanks.”
“I added some of my favorite playlists to your library. Hope you don’t mind.”
I merely blink in response. Do I mind? Shit, considering my predicament, should I?
“That’s Toyol,” Lily chimes in, waving towards the exotic assassin. He’s stowed the swords for today—thank God. But I highly doubt he’s any less lethal without them.
He dips his head towards me, causing a lock of jet-black hair to fall into his almond-shaped eyes. “Demon of mischief and thievery. The legends depict me as some half-dead baby creature, but I assure you, I’m all male.” He winks, and I hate to say, I almost want to chuckle.
“And this is Andras,” Lily states, tipping her head to the beautiful blonde man with Nordic features. They could be twins.
Andras lifts his regal head from a magazine and gives me a grin. “Nice to formally meet you, Eden.”
“He’s the demon of instigation and conflict. Don’t let the pretty face fool you. He loves to start shit.”
Andras brushes a golden lock from his shoulder before admiring his nail beds. “Oh, please, Lilith. You’re just mad because you’re old and ornery. You’ll never keep a man like that.”
My eyes widen. “Lilith?”
She curtsies gracefully and smiles that smile that I had grown to know and adore. Before I learned of the treachery behind it, that is. “That I am.”
“The original scorned ex-wife,” Andras jibes. “The demoness of disease and death. Such a killjoy at parties.”
I look to Andras, then back to Lilith, waiting for clarification. “Ex-wife?”
She rolls her eyes and flops back onto the couch. “I was Adam’s first wife. The one everyone seems to forget.”
“You were a barren old hag. No one wants to remember all the foul shit you did.”
Toyol. Andras. Lilith.
Holy shit.
I’d heard of them—read about them. Daily bible study was mandatory while living with my mother. Forfeiting that meant a beating with the good book. I was too young to understand, but as I got older, I sought out to debunk my mother’s teachings and researched on my own. Heaven, Hell, the Creation. All different religions in all countries around the world. I remember them.
“Where…where are the others?” I stammer, resigning to a seat on the huge sofa. It’s as soft and plush as it looks.
“Out on patrol. Jinn is in his room meditating,” Toyol answers. “He’s got a pretty intriguing story. Ever hear of the Jinn in Islam?”
I shrug. “Vaguely.”
“Well, they’re actually like the urban legends of your world. People like to romanticize what they find too dark and disturbing to understand. Your books state that there are several, all serving different purposes, all depicted as different beings. Genies, vampires, shifters, zombies. But really, they’re all just him. So naturally, he’s a master of disguise, able to appear as one desires. Pretty creepy, right?”
Creepy? I may not sleep for a week.
“So is he a demon? Or something else?”
Toyol nods. “Anything that is not of the Creator, is evil. Your people can glamorize it all you want with movies and cheesy romance novels, but he is demon.”
“And Phenex?”
“The conjurer,” Andras answers without looking up. “Master of all sciences, literature, and song. But that’s how he gets you. He lures you in with the kind words and gentle voice. But truly, he is demon. A very old demon, at that.”
“He’s fallen,” Lily—Lilith adds. “He fell from Heaven, and a former angel. He’s been searching for a way to get back ever since.”
“Is he the oldest of all of you?”
The three shake their head. “No,” Lilith answers. “L is older. And stronger.”
“Don’t let Cain hear you say that,” Toyol smirks. “His blemished ego would level Chicago.”
The scarred beast. Cain.
“I thought he was mortal—the son of Adam and Eve?”
I hear Lilith snort from her spot on the couch.
“He made a deal that landed him in Hell. Stupid fool.” Toyol shakes his head. “Plus he has a thing for murder, so there’s that. Probably wouldn’t pan out upstairs.”
It doesn’t go without notice that I haven’t asked about L. L, the leader, the elder. L, the demon that held me while I cried into his chest.
You’re his now.
I know I shouldn’t press for more; they’ve already told me so much. Much more than I can digest over a casual conversation. But if there is something I should know about him—something that would explain his obsession with this Adriel—I need to know.
“And, L. Who is he?”
Lilith perks up like she can’t wait to divulge a piece of juicy gossip. “Oh, L is—”
“Just L.”
The four of us whirl around to find L standing behind us, his expression etched in stone. Those haunted eyes bore through me, searing me with molten silver. His mere presence radiates strength and unrelenting power.
“You’re here.” The sound of my voice… Surprise? Fear? Eagerness? Even I can’t decipher it.
Without so much as a
blink, he tears his gaze from mine and looks at Toyol. “Pull up surveillance for Lincoln Park. Cain detected some activity in that area.”
With just a press of a button on a small remote, a large, flat screen descends from the ceiling, completely eclipsing the 85 inch television. Toyol hits another button, splitting the screen into eight different picture angles. Holy shit. It’s feed from live cameras.
“How many cameras do you have around the city?” I dare to ask.
Toyol shrugs. “Two hundred or so, most of them centrally located around the downtown and lower income areas.”
Lower income. Like where they found me.
“A human that is Called tends to lead an unsuspecting, inconsequential life,” he continues. “They go unnoticed, fly under the radar. That’s when you hear about school shootings or church massacres, their friends and family are caught off guard. They can’t believe that the quiet, reserved person they thought they knew is actually murderous scum.”
Hmph. Inconsequential life…
It stings, but it’s true. I fit the profile.
“And after it’s done…after they’ve been activated…or Called…or whatever. Do they remember what they’ve done?” I can’t stomach the thought of walking into an elementary school and spraying the cafeteria with bullets while innocent, little kids wolf down PBJ and milk. I can’t imagine strolling into Sunday Mass and detonating a bomb during communion. What type of animal would do such a thing? How could they not fight against the impulse to kill? And how…how do you possibly live with yourself after the fact?
“No. Because 9 times out of 10, they kill themselves, if they’re not killed first. He doesn’t give them an opportunity to repent or feel remorse. Their lives are not his concern; just wants them to do his bidding.”
“Who does?”
Toyol turns his attention from the black and white boxes on the screen, an edge of malice rimming his black eyes. “Lucifer.”
Lucifer.
As in…
“Satan?” I whisper so quietly that no human ears could hear. As if saying his name would make him appear.
“Satan. Beezlebub. The devil. Abaddon. Apollyon,” Andras answers. “Many names for a very large ego. But yes. He is responsible. He infects them before birth, while still in their mother’s womb. They are born sinner, and will die sinner.”
“But that won’t be you,” L suddenly declares, his deep voice heavy with conviction. “I won’t let anyone, or anything, hurt you.”
I turn to face him, my gaze sweeping over his taut frame. His large hands gripping the back of the sofa, the tension in those powerful shoulders flexing through his form fitting shirt…he always looks like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. If intimidation had a face—a body—it’d be him. Yet, there’s something about him…something familiar and comforting. Maybe it’s the way he held me, or the calm words he whispered over and over while I sobbed myself to sleep. Maybe it’s the images that randomly flash before my eyes that I can’t explain. I’ve felt his hands on my body—those thick, callused fingers much gentler than they appear as they roamed my sensitive flesh. I’ve tasted every inch of his skin, just as he has feasted on every inch of mine. I’ve heard his laughter and basked in his smile.
I know this man, yet I don’t. Not at all.
“Eden? Eden?”
I blink furiously, breaking the spell at the sound of my name. “Um, huh?”
Lilith giggles. “I said, are you hungry? You didn’t eat much before you passed out, and I’m hoping that doesn’t happen again. There’s a lot you need to learn.”
“Learn?” I frown. Lucifer infected me with evil while I was still a growing fetus. My mother was right—I have the devil inside me. How much more do I need to know?
“What you are,” L interjects. “You need to know what you are so we can stop the Calling. So I’m not forced to kill you.”
“But you told me already. I already know that I’m one of these Called freaks, and I need to be locked away before I do something terrible. What else is there to know?”
A slow, sinuous smirk curls itself on the edge of his full lips. Lips I’ve kissed, yet haven’t. “Food first. You’ll need it.”
Phenex arrives with Cain while Jinn makes me a bowl of homemade soup. I insist that I can just heat up some leftovers or make a sandwich, but he simply ignores me, his focus on the vegetables on his chopping board.
“He doesn’t like me, does he?” I whisper to Lily—dammit—Lilith. It’s easy to fall back into friendship with her. She just seems…normal to me.
“Who Jinn? Why do you say that?”
“Well…” I look over at the bronze, bearded man, praying furiously that he can’t hear me from the dining room table. If what Toyol said was true, I do not want to get on his bad side. “He won’t talk to me.”
Lilith laughs gleefully, causing me to look around to see if I’ve missed something. “He won’t talk to you, because he can’t, silly! His tongue is cut out.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I cover my mouth with trembling fingers. I’m not sure why I’m apologizing to her¸ but it seems like the right thing to say. And then there’s the G-word. I’m locked in a high-rise apartment with a posse of demons. Isn’t that kinda like playing Biggie at a Death Row party?
She shrugs. “Happened a long time ago. Cooking helps him relax.”
“So…did L-Lucifer do it? For killing his pawns?”
“Nope. He did it himself.” She says it so casually, as if she was telling me what she had for breakfast. He cut out his own tongue. What drives a person to mutilate himself?
“But…why?” I know they have cat-like reflexes—I’ve seen them. And superhuman strength as well. But I really, really hope Jinn can’t hear me prying into his past.
“The Jinn uses his influence to inflict harm on his victims. He whispers in their ear, glamours them with their own desires. He doesn’t infringe on their free will, yet makes them believe that they want to do vicious, lustful acts. You sleep with your best friend’s husband because you’re so owned by your basal desires. You steal money from your neighbor because you trust you need it more than they do. You slit someone’s throat because the thought of their blood spilling over your hands arouses you. He takes your weakness—your faults—and gives it that little nudge over the edge.” She takes a beat to look at the strong, silent man gently plucking fresh herbs for the soup, and sighs. “It can take a toll on you… the constant treachery and deceit. Constantly evoking pain and anger and misery. It can suck you dry until there’s nothing left. Until you begin to feel just like your victims.”
I blink at her humble testimony. “But isn’t that what you want? For us all to hurt? For the world to bow to evil?”
She turns back to me, the remnants of a wince still resting on her brow. “We’re demons, Eden. That doesn’t mean we don’t have a conscience.”
“Speak for yourself,” a gruff voice says from across the table. Cain. Son of Adam and Eve, Killer of Abel. Demon of Murder. There’s a slight squint in his jet black eyes as he glares at me, picking me apart like a vulture. Trying to unhinge me with his venomous leer. I feel spiders crawl all over my body, scraping and scratching my skin with their spiny, little legs. But still, I hold his stare.
I won’t let him see how much he terrifies me, and how just by looking at that grotesque scar makes my stomach roil. I won’t give him the satisfaction that he so craves.
I believe he may have been beautiful once. And he still could be now, even with the disfigurement. But he doesn’t want to be. He relishes the fear, the disgust. He wants people to grimace and avoid eye contact. He delights in making women clutch their purses to scurry to the opposite side of the street when he approaches. He takes joy in intimidating lesser men, reducing them to cowering little boys.
I know him, because I am him.
Isolation is a much better option than rejection.
Showing fear at this point would only prove how truly helpless I am. I’ve fainte
d over brunch, cried until snot bubbled from my nose, vomited in my hair. I seem like all the rest to him—pathetic, weak. He hates that I’m here; that much is evident. Yet he’s one of them. So maybe he doesn’t despise me as much as he appears to. Maybe he has no choice in the matter.
“I despise you,” he sneers, showing his teeth. So much for that theory.
“Huh?” His words coupled with the harshness of his tone catch me off guard.
“I said, I despise you. What you are…what you’re capable of. Yet you’re cheating your fate. Coward.”
“Give it a rest, Cain,” Lilith retorts, waving him off. “He’s just mad because he hasn’t had a kill in the last six weeks.”
“I should have been there the other night! I was en route!” he shouts, flailing his arms. No one even gives him a second glance.
“L and I handled it just fine.”
“Huh,” he snorts. “You mean, L handled it. You were about to be rat food. You know…I’m disappointed in you, Lil. You’re usually much more focused. Maybe three decades without dick is making you lose your edge. And we all know your roomie, Andras, isn’t giving it to you. Tell me, do you two share dildos?”
It happens so fast that I don’t even have a chance to scream or take cover, yet the sheer velocity itself knocks me backwards in my chair. I scramble from the ground just in time to see Lilith lift Cain a foot off the ground with one hand grasping his collar. Then she slams him back onto the marble tabletop with a resounding crack, hard enough to shatter his skull into dust.
“Watch your tongue, Cain. Or I’ll carve you up and give you a full smile,” she hisses, crawling up his body like a creature devoid of bones and joints. Her arms and legs bend at opposite angles. Her neck stretches impossibly long and serpent-like, and I could have sworn actual fangs descended from her mouth.
She lifts a clawed hand, aiming to strike, just as L decides to enter the common area from his bedroom. He stops several feet from the scene and shakes his head.
“Knock it off, you two. I’m not buying another table.”
With a sinister smile that definitely showcases razor sharp canines, Lilith slowly climbs down Cain’s hulking frame. The mountain-sized man jumps up without any signs of injury, and smoothes his clothing.
Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1) Page 7