Demon's Daughter: A Cursed Book

by Amy Braun

  Voices that sounded like they belonged to Max and Warrick.

  I crawled to the hole and looked up. I could see a thread of light. Whoever was digging was doing it furiously. The far end of the hole I had made became wider, and as soon as I knew it was safe, I helped shift the rubble. A couple minutes later, light blinded me. I winced and blocked it with my hand. I blinked to adjust my eyes, then lowered my hand as rock was shifted above me.

  Sephiel and Rorikel were moving rock faster than any human could, but Max and Warrick were keeping pace with them. They were all covered in dirt and blood, though Max and Warrick looked far worse than the angels, bruised and scratched to hell. Warrick dropped as low as he could, green eyes shining down at me. He held out his hand to me.

  I reached up and clasped it to let him know I was okay. It was solid, warm, and alive. He squeezed my hand tightly, a weak smile spreading across his face, despite the intense worry in his eyes. Relief swarmed my raw heart, so strong I could have cried. I pulled back, getting a confused look from him as I backed away.

  “Dro’s down here!” I called up to them. Tears filled my throat, and I almost couldn’t say, “She’s hurt.”

  Warrick understood. Behind him, Max and Sephiel started digging faster. I crawled back to my sister and scooped her up as best as I could. My lucky jacket had soaked up almost all of her blood. She felt way too light.

  “It’s okay, Dro,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re almost out of here. Max is waiting for you.”

  Dro made no movement and no sound. My heart twisted and I almost started to cry. Sobs choked me as I brought her into the light. Warrick and Rorikel were digging more rock away. Sephiel dropped into the newly created space, only a couple feet away from me. His auburn hair was disheveled and blood was caked onto the side of his face, but his blue eyes were alive and burning.

  I lifted Dro up and looked Sephiel in the eyes.

  “She’s lost blood,” I managed to say. “He tore out her rib.”

  I never thought I would see an angel look scared, but Sephiel was. For a second, he froze with more terror than I thought any being could possibly have. But the second ended, and he lowered himself down, placed Dro over his shoulder and lifted her out of the tunnel. I watched my little sister disappear with Sephiel, Max and Rorikel right on his heels.

  They would be able to save her. They had to. She was breathing. She had a pulse. They just had to heal her.

  I closed my eyes and swayed.

  “Constance!”

  I blinked and looked up just as Warrick reached down and grabbed my hand. My shoulders were still roaring in pain as I continued to tear the damaged muscles and tissue, but Warrick gripped my hands and lifted me out of the tunnel.

  Fresh morning air was a welcome chill in my lungs. I drank in as much of it as I could, so much that I choked on it. My body realized I was slowing down and dizziness hit in a wave. I swayed again, but strong arms caught me and held me up. I closed my eyes and pressed against a warm body. Fingers moved through my hair. I breathed in the smell of dirt, blood, and musky pine. I held him tighter.

  “I got you,” Warrick murmured. “You’re safe.”

  I blinked my eyes open slowly, unable to think of anything to say to Warrick. I couldn’t begin to tell him how grateful I was that he’d saved us, or how happy I was that he was alive. I pulled back to look at him.

  A bruise was forming on his jaw and around one of his eyes. Dust coated his oaky hair, scratches and blood covering his face and chest. He must have been in pain, but he didn’t seem to care about it. Instead, Warrick focused on me, gently brushing my hair behind my ear. Concern and relief sparkled in his eyes. Somehow, seeing him managed to get my heart racing again. I was so glad to see him I almost couldn’t breathe.

  I’d never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I wanted to kiss Warrick in that moment.

  I opened my lips to do it, but then I remembered my sister, and how horribly she had been hurt.

  “Dro,” I breathed.

  Warrick nodded, looking sad. He kept his arms around me and helped me walk up the sunken earth to the rest of the group.

  Sephiel, Rorikel, and Max were kneeling on the ground beside Dro. Both of the angels had their hands over Dro’s torn skin, glowing light coming from their hands and fierce determination in their eyes. Max was clasping one of Dro’s hands in both of his, muttering a prayer I couldn’t hear. Tears lined his cheeks.

  Warrick helped lower me down to Dro’s side next to Max. I touched my sister’s arm, staring at her face. I barely felt Warrick place his jacket over my shoulders or sit next to me and take my other hand. I leaned against him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Usually I didn’t like physical contact. Right now, I couldn’t seem to get enough of it. I was falling apart, and I needed someone to hold me together.

  Because I didn’t know if Dro was going to survive.

  I wasn’t sure when I started crying. I wasn’t bawling, but the tears wouldn’t stop leaking from my eyes. Not until I knew she would live. Maybe not even then, either. My little sister had suffered more than any other sixteen year old girl ought to. She would hate me for not finding her fast enough. I wouldn’t blame her. I hated myself.

  The healing glow from the angels stopped. Sephiel put his hand on Dro’s forehead.

  “She will live,” he said sadly. “But for now she must rest. Her body has to restore itself. We have accommodated for the missing rib as much as possible. But it will never grow back.”

  Max made a low groan next to me. Warrick squeezed my hand.

  “What happened?” I asked no one in particular with a scratchy voice.

  “Drake hit me pretty hard when the roof started falling. When I got up, he was gone.” Warrick said quietly. He looked down, his face tight and grim. “After that pulse came from Dro and the roof began caving in, Sephiel and Rorikel appeared and got us out. They were going to come back for you, but…”

  “We could not sense the Nephilim,” Rorikel answered flatly. “We were not aware if she was alive or dead. We needed to retrieve those we knew had survived.”

  I focused on Dro. If I looked at Rorikel, I might try to use the rest of my strength to stand up and punch him.

  “Constance,” Warrick asked from behind me. He was turning his head to try and look over my shoulder and into my eyes, but I wouldn’t look away from Dro.

  “That… That thing Isabel summoned. What was it?”

  I shivered, remembering his exquisite beauty. His glorious wings. The power he had. The way I’d nearly drowned in despair and desire for him. His stony face and consuming black eyes.

  The way he called Dro his ‘child’, and then ripped out her rib.

  I shivered again and Warrick gently rubbed my arm to calm me down. I steeled myself and took a deep breath.

  “Lucifer. Isabel summoned Lucifer.”

  The air became so silent you could have heard a pin drop ten feet away. I could feel everyone staring at me, but I never shifted my eyes from Dro. I knew she needed sleep and the angels had healed her, but I wished she would open her eyes. I needed to see for myself that she was okay.

  “That is not possible,” Rorikel breathed. For once, he sounded like he actually could emote something other than anger and disdain for myself and the human race. But Rorikel sounding afraid wasn’t helping the situation.

  “It was him,” I said. “I know it.” I held my breath. “He called her his child.”

  The angels went still again. After another long time, Rorikel spoke again.

  “It is not possible,” he repeated. “She is Nephilim. Lucifer is a fallen angel, King of Hell and demons. She cannot be of his blood, unless…”

  He trailed off and it was like someone had switched on a light in his head. He reached over and touched some of Dro’s blood. He lifted it to his nose and smelled it. He pulled back and got to his feet. He looked repulsed.

  “I thought she smelled like demon blood because she had it spilled upon her. But her blood is
demon.”

  Sephiel got to his feet. “She is Nephilim, Rorikel. You know–”

  “She is both.”

  Shock and fear began to settle in Rorikel’s grey eyes. “She is the blood of both an angel and a demon. Everiel lived long enough to birth the ultimate abomination.”

  “Don’t call her that,” I growled.

  Rorikel turned on me. “You do not understand. That force that she released has now opened not only the Gates of Hell, but the Gates of Heaven. If Lucifer has been freed, there is nothing stopping him from entering the Heaven Gate and destroying Paradise.”

  I knew that was bad. Apocalyptically bad. The weight of what he’d said should have sunk into me more, the way it had for Warrick and Max. The demon slayer and the gifted boy were looking at Rorikel like the fire was already falling from the sky. I probably would have looked the same, but I couldn’t focus on anything but Dro.

  Until Rorikel pulled out his sword.

  Max shot to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

  “There is only one way to prevent further destruction,” the angel said. “The abomination must die.”

  He raised his sword and plunged it down. I wrenched away from Warrick, but I wasn’t going to be fast enough to stop Rorikel.

  A blast of gold light hit the white-blond angel in the chest, knocking him back and away from Dro. Sephiel stepped in front of us, his sword in one hand and heavenfire in the other. Rorikel looked stunned, but his expression quickly became infuriated.

  “Traitor,” Rorikel hissed.

  “We were tasked with protecting this child,” Sephiel said. “She must not come to harm.”

  “Our orders were given before we knew what she was,” he barked. “The abomination shall be the doom of Heaven, Sephiel. You know this. She cannot live.”

  Rorikel took a step forward, but Sephiel blasted him again, pushing his partner back. Or ex-partner, from the look of hatred that crossed the other angel’s face.

  “I will not let you harm her, Rorikel. Not you, or any other angel. We failed to protect her from Lucifer once. We must not do so again.” Sephiel took a careful step forward. “There is still a chance, brother. We can stop Lucifer. She has the power to open the Gates, but he will also have given her the power to close them. Killing her will accomplish nothing. She does not deserve to die.”

  Sephiel sounded as reasonable as he always did. He made excellent points. He spoke the truth.

  Rorikel just refused to listen.

  He shook his head, looking almost sad for a moment. “You choose them, the humans, over your own kind. You always have. But that isn’t why you want to keep that creature alive, Sephiel. You’re holding onto a memory, and your clemency shall be your downfall.”

  Rorikel threw a blast of heavenfire at Sephiel so fast I was sure it was going to hit him. Rorikel never did anything half way. He meant to kill his partner.

  But Sephiel was faster. He moved like lightning, snapping out his hand and using some sort of invisible force to push the light away. Rorikel let out a furious shout and charged, his sword raised high. Sephiel blocked his strike, and all the ones that followed it. The angels moved with such speed and grace it was like watching a deadly ballet.

  Their white coats arched and spun as they slashed and parried one another. I’d never seen two fighters more evenly matched. I was rooting for Sephiel, but Rorikel was angry enough to be a serious threat.

  Rorikel spun and drew his sword up, the tip of the blade slicing diagonally across Sephiel’s chest. The blue-eyed angel stumbled back, a thin line of blood visible on the front. Rorikel pressed on the attacks, hacking at Sephiel with a two handed grip on his sword. I tried to push myself up, but Max put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Wait,” he whispered. “Sephiel knows what he’s doing.” He looked at the fight again. “Watch.”

  Sephiel was still on the defense, Rorikel getting closer and closer to him. Because Sephiel was letting it happen.

  Their swords crossed and Sephiel made his move. He shone heavenly light in Rorikel’s eyes with a free hand, temporarily blinding the white-blond angel and making him cry out angrily. Sephiel wrenched Rorikel’s sword away and caught him around the waist, flipping him over his shoulder. He spun on his heel and pressed the tip of his sword to Rorikel’s chest. The beaten angel made no move to stop him. Sephiel looked like a stone-cold killer, emotion drained off his face.

  “You are still my brother, Rorikel,” he said. “As your brother, I am asking you to help us. We can stop Lucifer. But we cannot do it alone. Please, help us.”

  Once again, Sephiel was sincere and honest enough to be completely convincing. His ‘please’ hadn’t been forced or half-hearted. He actually had hope that Rorikel would listen to him.

  But once again, Rorikel didn’t care.

  “Kill me if you wish, but Heaven shall hear of this, Sephiel. They shall all know of your falseness. That you chose the humans and Lucifer’s abomination over your own kind. You shall know no safety. The Heavenly Host shall pursue you just as readily as the fiends of Hell will. All you shall do is prolong the suffering of those you have chosen to protect.”

  His words were so cold and heartless I was almost certain that Sephiel was going to kill him for them. If I’d had any strength, I would have done it myself. But instead, Sephiel lifted his sword from Rorikel’s chest and placed its tip on the dirt.

  “So be it,” he said.

  Rorikel scowled and quickly got to his feet. He hadn’t put any fear in Sephiel like he hoped. He looked at us, grey eyes scanning our dirty human faces. His eyes lingered on Dro for a long time, even when I hunched over her and protected him from his bitter gaze. Then he blinked out of sight, and was gone.

  I remained tense, my eyes scanning the forest around me, ready to throw myself on Dro if Rorikel came back.

  “He has gone,” Sephiel said, slowly making his way back towards us. “If he is to return, I shall feel it and forewarn you all.”

  “You should have killed him,” I said. “He’s just going to try and do the same to us. Sooner rather than later, judging by how pissed off you made him.”

  Sephiel stared at the ground, looking tired and sad. “It would not have given us time. The Heavenly Host knows both of the Gates are opened. We all felt the power Andromeda unleashed when Lucifer used her. Killing Rorikel would have achieved nothing.” His voice was filled with guilt. “And he is still my brother.”

  I made myself understand. I was a sister who would never hurt her younger sibling.

  But you did. You couldn’t protect her, and she nearly died.

  I sighed heavily, slumping against Warrick’s shoulder. He hadn’t let me go since he pulled me from the collapsed tunnel.

  “Sephiel, she needs to be healed,” Warrick urged, keeping me circled in his arms. “She’s lost a lot of blood and her injuries–”

  “You are right, John Warrick. We shall leave this place. But I fear we cannot go anywhere safe.”

  “Why not?” Max asked.

  Sephiel looked at him seriously. “Because there are no safe places anymore.”

  Chapter 19

  Somewhere between Sephiel’s ominous reply to Max and our preparation for teleporting, I passed out. Warrick hadn’t been wrong. After Drake’s surprise attack, losing Dro, seeing her torture, surviving the trials, fighting Isabel, confronting Lucifer, watching him open the Gates of Hell and Heaven, then clawing my way out of a collapsed tunnel to save my sister, my body was spent. Exhaustion took over, and I welcomed it.

  When I woke up again, I felt much better. There was no pain. Sephiel had probably healed me during my mini coma. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, looking at my surroundings. I was in a large bedroom with white walls, lying on a mattress with plain white sheets and a warm comforter. I pushed myself up, suddenly aware that I was in dark blue scrubs instead of my blood-covered clothes and jacket. I stretched my muscles then threw off the comforter and got to my feet, glancing over my
shoulder at the sky beyond the window.

  The clouds were heavy and dark. A big storm was coming. I frowned, wondering if it was a natural storm, or if Lucifer’s emergence into the world had something to do with it.

  I padded out of the bedroom, used the bathroom, and looked around the hallway. There wasn’t anything to suggest someone else was living in it. Everything seemed too empty. I made my way down the stairs, not seeing any furniture. We must have been taken to a show home, or a house under renovation. I turned a corner and found Warrick and Sephiel in the living room.

  Warrick was sitting on the floor with boxes of take-out food and pizza around him, aimlessly thumbing through his phone. My stomach rumbled loudly at the sight of the food. Warrick looked up at me, green eyes bright and shining. He chuckled at the noise my stomach made, and I felt my heart expand. He was a good-looking guy during normal times, but when he smiled he looked positively radiant.

  “Please tell me there’s leftovers,” I said.

  Warrick grinned and motioned to the boxes. “Take your pick. After the last two days, we thought a buffet was a good idea.”

  I raised my eyebrows as I sat cross-legged on the floor next to Warrick. “I was out for two days?”

  His smile faltered and he nodded. “You really damaged yourself, Constance. Sephiel healed you, gave you new clothes, then put a sleeping spell on you so you could get undisturbed rest. You needed it.”

  I quickly turned my head to Sephiel. “You changed my clothes while I was sleeping?”

  “I assure you a great deal of modesty was afforded you.”

  A frown came over my lips. “That isn’t really comforting.” I suddenly looked up. “What about Dro? Is she awake? Is she okay?”

  “She still rests,” Sephiel said.

  I looked at him carefully. He stood by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He was staring at the blackening clouds. From the reflection on the window, I could see his grave expression. So not natural clouds then.