“We were creatures of His creation, just as mankind were. We were stronger than man; ethereal to their…mud-pit faces. We were better. And yet we were forced to serve. We had no choice of our own.”
The beings in the cloud, in the blink of an eye, knelt.
The other me’s voice hissed, dripping venom as he said, “Mankind was given free will. They were given a plethora of choices. They did not always choose the right path.”
A garden, an apple, a city burned to the ground. All of humanity’s downfalls flashed before my eyes, and for a moment, all I could do was blink. All the death, all the destruction—why? For what? The raping and the pillaging, the stealing and the conquering? It all seemed needlessly violent.
“A choice was made, and thus, those who did not want to serve were cast out, cast down.” As he talked, the picture morphed to the winged beings, their perfection in tatters, as were their clothes and their wings. They tumbled downward, caught in a slow-motion fall. “We were no longer welcomed in His kingdom, but we made our own.”
The one in the armor was the only one who did not tarnish. While his brethren fell, he floated down, still radiating the same light that he had before.
“Why was he not affected?” I asked, glancing to the darker version of me. “Why did he keep his wings?”
“There was a time when he was His favorite child. His light outshone even the sun. They called him many things,” he answered. “Morningstar was his favorite, for he relished in being the brightest thing in the sky.”
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Because hubris was the reason for the Great Fall; I want you to know it all, to be prepared to make the choice.”
“What choice?” My eyebrows furrowed, and out of my peripherals, I saw the Morningstar take off his helmet as his feet touched the ground. He was out of the movie-like cloud; a real entity before us. I watched, stunned, as I stared at yet another version of myself. His armor faded away, and on his skin, thin, delicate tattoos sat, sinking into his flesh, vanishing as his blue eyes met mine.
I was the Morningstar?
But…no. I couldn’t remember, but I was fairly sure I had a life that did not involve starting wars and falling. Plus, there were no wings on my back. This was all a trick. It had to be.
“The choice everyone makes sooner or later,” he stated. The third me walked toward us, melding with the one beside me. We were alone in the field once again. “The choice we all must make. The battle is eternal; the war will rage forever on. If you put down the mantle, there is a long line of those who would take your place.”
Mantle? “I don’t get it. And, here’s a hint, I don’t do riddles. Whatever you’re trying to tell me, just tell me straight,” I said, crossing my arms. “And please, while you’re at it, tell me why you look exactly like me.” My please wasn’t so nice as it was riddled with exasperation.
He heaved a gigantic sigh. “You are me.”
“You’re me?” I echoed, the air not being any clearer.
“No. I am not you, but you are me.”
“That makes no sense. Am I in the crazy house?” I looked around; the field was calm, the green grass swaying slightly with the wind. The sun above us beat hot on our backs. This was just insane.
“You were given one chance. Do not waste it.” He sent me a frown, a glare that made the blood in my veins freeze. There was something behind his stare that I didn’t trust, something I didn’t like; but it was hard to put a finger on it.
I didn’t know what the truth was; he could’ve been feeding me lies, and I’d not know it.
He sighed. “Come. There is more I must show you.” Behind him, a doorway appeared. An ancient, wooden door with metal accents, that quite literally stood out of the ground, no walls to hold it up. It was an odd sight in the field, wholly out of place.
“Okay, that wasn’t there before,” I whispered, obediently following him through it.
We stepped into a dimly-lit hall. Nuns hurried to and fro, completing their duties. Some held the tiny hands of children, others cleaned and mopped. I was led to an adjacent room, where half a dozen cradles sat, babies in each of them.
Was this an orphanage?
“What…” I started to ask, but the other me held up a hand, silencing me immediately.
“Just watch.”
I shut my mouth and watched, not sure what I was watching. A room full of babies? How exciting, how thrilling. I should mark this day on my calendar: the day that I died of boredom.
Two voices interrupted the silence; a man and a woman. “This seems a little far-fetched, dear.”
“I’m telling you,” the woman’s voice spoke in hushed tones, “this is it. I can feel it.”
“And what do you feel? Because you sure didn’t bother telling me on the drive over here—and it was half a day of driving.”
“Koath, just—just hush.” As she told him to hush, we watched the two people enter the nursery. The woman was no more than thirty, her hair a long, luscious brown. She had a hand on her belly, her pregnant belly.
The man beside her was a little older, his goatee starting to grey. He was not an intimidating man, but there was an air about him that I felt was familiar. Did I know this man? The woman—there was nothing familiar about her. She was a stranger to me.
A nun walked by, heading to the middlemost cradle, carefully picking up a baby. “It is funny you should mention a child like that.” She smiled a wrinkled smile, moving closer to the woman and man. “One morning, a few weeks back, I woke up early. It was freezing out, and somehow my window was left open. I went to shut it, and do you know what I heard outside?”
The woman exchanged looks with, from the look of the rings on their fingers, husband.
“A baby’s crying. I checked on the nursery, but it was coming from somewhere else.” The nun gestured to the child in her hands. “I found him by the front door. No papers, no anything. His temperature was hot, in spite of the cold. I took him to the hospital, but he wasn’t sick. He’s a perfectly healthy baby boy. I will never understand why the parents left him on our doorstep like that.”
The woman smiled at the nun. “Does he have a name?”
The nun returned her warmth, saying, “We chose Gabriel. God’s Messenger.”
“A fitting name,” the man said.
“Are you interested in starting the adoption process?” The nun was hopeful.
The man and woman met eyes, and before they could respond, I heard the other me say, “Come. This is only the beginning. We have a long way to go before you make your choice.” When I looked at him, he stood before another new door; this one was at least on a wall, so my brain didn’t do too much bugging out.
Heaving a sigh, I went to follow. What was I supposed to do—stay in the nursery and make friends with the babies and people who couldn’t see me?
I had no idea what to expect next.
Chapter Nineteen – Kass
I never really knew how much I depended on Gabriel. I took him for granted, I guessed, because he was always there in my life, even when my Guardian/dad wasn’t. He was the boy who’d do anything for me, and I was the girl who’d do anything for him, including risking my life to save him from another girl who had a thing for pet Nightwalkers.
I missed him so much. I missed his stupid ramblings, his nickname of raccoon, and his wiggling eyebrows. I missed going on nightly walks with him, sleeping in his bed, and catching up on our favorite TV shows. My life was incomplete without him.
Not to sound dramatic, but without my tall blonde boy, I was like half a person.
I rolled out of bed that morning, shuffled to the bathroom, and did my morning routine without any interruptions. I was in and out in less than ten minutes. All I planned on doing today was heading across the street. I didn’t even bother showering. Brushed my teeth, slapped on some deodorant, twirled my hair up, and chose some clothes that didn’t reveal too much skin. I was going to be around Crixis, after all.
&nbs
p; No thanks to that, even though he’d seen a lot of naked women throughout his life. I didn’t need to be one of them.
Gabriel—I had no problem wearing the shortest shorts and little tank tops around him. Only because I was so comfortable with him. He was like my brother.
He was like my brother.
Yeah, maybe if I repeated it enough, it’d start to sound true.
I was out the door before Michael or Liz could say anything to me. If there’s one thing I was good at, besides purifying Nightwalkers, it was avoiding my problems. Yeah—I was super great at that.
As I headed down the street, pretending to jog, I was surprised to realize that my arms did, in fact, ache. They throbbed with a familiar tiredness that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Sure, Raphael would spar with us (and beat us, usually), but my body was always on the up-and-up the day after. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been as sore as I was now.
Hmm. Maybe Crixis was onto something, I thought as I turned down the next street. I jogged through backyards until I stood at the back porch of Crixis’s new abode. Or maybe I gave him too much credit, I amended as I stepped toward the back door. It was unlocked, as most probably were in this Carolinian town, in spite of all the death it’d seen.
Which was a lot, and it showed no signs of slowing down. The death count would just keep ticking higher and higher, definitely keep going up even after I bit the dust.
I came upon a strange scene as I walked into the house. A smell of bacon and eggs, a humming old man near the kitchen table, and a Crixis with an apron around his waist. A pink, frilly apron. He pretended not to notice me, even though he had to have heard my approach.
“Ah, there you are, Eve,” Maurice said with a wide smile of his obviously fake teeth. “David’s making breakfast. If there’s one meal that boy knows how to cook, it’s breakfast. He learned from the best.” His wrinkled fingers pointed to himself, a proud aura radiating from him. He resumed humming as he sprinkled some salt and pepper onto his eggs, dipping his toast into it.
“I never knew David—” I said his name loudly, dramatically. “—was such a good cook.” I shot a glare at Crixis. I was still unsure about the whole lying-to-Maurice thing.
Crixis turned his head, green eyes glinting in the morning light that shone through the window opposite him. “I’ve had years of practice, dear.” He pointed to the seat across from Maurice. “You’re next.”
Did I want to eat any food Crixis had a hand in making? That question surged through my head as I begrudgingly sat near Maurice. My fingers tapped the old laminate table top, their beat not matching up to Maurice’s hum.
“How’s school going for you, Eve?” Maurice’s scratchy voice broke through my pensiveness, causing me to sharply glance to Crixis.
School? How young were David and Eve when they got together?
“He’s asking about your college courses,” Crixis clarified. “You know, all your psychology courses. Since you want to be a criminal profiler.”
The words nearly flew over my head, but I got the gist. Turning to Maurice, who waited patiently for my answer as he bit into a crunchy piece of bacon, I said, “They’re hard. Lot of tests and papers.”
“You’re smart. You’ll handle it.” Maurice harrumphed. “If only you could’ve gotten David to go to that school with you.” There was a pause before he added quietly, “Then he could’ve gotten a good job, instead of working at K-Mart for his entire life.”
Crixis and I met eyes. K-Mart? This had to be a while ago. Those stores were all but gone, weren’t they?
“At least you have a goal, a dream,” the old man continued. “David’s only goal was to get through high school while doing the least amount of work to pass. But, can’t complain. At least he graduated. More than I can say for myself.” His thin shoulders shrugged and he worked to finish his plate.
My mouth was a thin line. I didn’t know what to say to him. I wasn’t good at talking to strangers, especially older ones. Maybe because I knew that I’d never live to be that old. Heck. I’d already died. Death was sure to catch up to me sometime soon.
As I rubbed my arms, Crixis set a porcelain plate before me. Despite my feelings about the Demon, the meal looked good. The eggs were perfectly cooked, over-easy, and the toast was a beautiful golden brown. And the bacon—oh, the bacon smelled delicious.
“Eat up,” Crixis stated with a smirk. “We have a long day ahead of us.”
I couldn’t help but lift my eyebrows at that one. With my arms feeling like jelly, I highly doubted it’d be a long day. And I never planned to spend the entire day with him, anyways. Spending all my free time with Crixis was not what I wanted to do, even if I was spiraling without Gabriel.
Oh, Gabriel…
No. Do not think about him.
The smell overpowered me, and just as I decided to try the food, Maurice quipped, “You know you guys are old enough to rent a motel room. You don’t have to use the attic.” His seriousness, and the sheer wrongness of it, nearly made me gag.
Crixis laughed outright. He put a hand on Maurice’s shoulder, kneeling down to his level. “Somebody has to be close by, in case you decide to get wild and call nine-one-one for a friendly conversation again.”
Maurice shook him off. “I told you, I couldn’t find the remote.”
As Crixis said something in return, I couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed at everything: the absurdity of Crixis catching Maurice yelling at the dispatcher about the remote, the oddity of the care that Crixis displayed for him, and the strangeness of seeing the Demon I most hate acting like a real person, for once, and not a mindless, murdering psychopath.
These were strange times, weren’t they?
I laughed and I laughed, even after the weirdness of it all wore off. I laughed until I was laughing about nothing, until my eyes grew watery and I couldn’t see out of them. I laughed until I realized I was crying.
Because I was so suddenly sad.
I’d been through so much in my life, and this was where I ended up? In the house across the street, playing wife or girlfriend or whatever to Crixis? It was stupid.
“Excuse us,” Crixis said, moving away from Maurice as he went to me, pulling my arm. We went out the back door, and as he firmly closed it behind us, he added, “Please don’t make me play the caring husband when I’m with you.”
I plopped myself on the top step, gazing out at the green, unkempt backyard. My eyes were mostly dry now; I didn’t want to break down in front of Crixis. He’d never let me live it down. I’d never let myself live it down. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Good.” He sat beside me, far enough away that he wouldn’t touch me. “I assume you’re upset because of your boyfriend?”
I closed my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that Gabriel isn’t my boyfriend?” When he didn’t answer, I said, “Why do you keep calling him that?”
“It’s obvious. Or at least, it should be. Whether or not you realize it does not matter to me. If you want to live blindly, go ahead. I can’t judge, because that’s how I lived for a very long time.”
Staring squarely at him, I sneered, “So you aren’t living like that now? Could’ve fooled me.”
“It is eye-opening to watch the one creature you believed would never die,” Crixis slowly spoke, “for lack of another word, die.” He turned his stare to the yard. “In all my years, and as we both know I’ve had many, I never thought Sephira would truly die. I always knew my fix was temporary. I knew she’d come back and make demands of me again.”
“But you have that other thing inside of you.”
“Yes. Vexillion. But even with its backbone, it’s…difficult for me, sometimes. You might’ve seen things, but you don’t know what it was like, losing everything. Losing a father you never really knew is nothing like coming upon your entire village, burned.” Crixis rubbed a hand over his jaw.
Was he comparing his murdering of Koath to the slaughtering of his village thousands of years ago
? Those two things were not comparable, especially since the first could’ve been avoided easily.
“I was a father first, a husband second, and a warrior third. They were all taken from me at the same time. Sephira made kingdoms crumble. She set her armies on anyone and anything that she wanted. Not for resources or land, but for her own amusement.”
“I see that’s where you got it from, then,” I muttered unhappily.
“It is. I learned cruelty from the best. Or is it worst? Either way, Sephira was a great teacher. If you don’t care about anything, you gain the ability to do whatever you want when you want. Over the years, I used it to my advantage.”
“It’s a good thing there aren’t that many like you in the world.”
“Perhaps not, but there are humans who would gladly leave the poor to rot if it meant their pockets were full. Humans have started most of the wars in the history books, usually against other humans.”
My hands curled into fists. “Hard to see the big picture, when you’re sitting next to me acting smug.”
“This isn’t my smug face.” Crixis adopted the expression I’d seen when he beat the crap out of me in the graveyard. The one with a lopsided, easy-going smirk, eyes squinted just a bit. “This is my smug face.”
“There’s a difference?”
“There is.”
“Looks the same to me.”
Crixis sighed. “You’re young. You think you know about cruelty, but you don’t. My lessons might’ve been cruel, but they were nowhere near as cruel as Sephira’s would’ve been.”
I glared at him. I sent my death glare to his Hawaiian shirt-wearing form. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I don’t care if you feel better. I just don’t want your broodiness to rub off on me. I’d rather not turn into Raphael. One Raphael on the earth is already one Raphael too many.” He grinned, a devilishly handsome smile that I hated. “Now there’s a guy who’s great at brooding.”
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