That I’d fucking conquered this thing called life and that I…
Understood their decision.
Then another thought hit me.
“The demon,” I breathed, suddenly remembering David’s story about the Demon that had attacked the door to the church. What if it had been Last Breath…
What if he was the Demon? What if this place was different than the one I knew? What if the only reason Father David had opened a door to see the baby was because…
Someone had battled the demon long enough for Father David to hear the baby crying in the first place. That someone had defended the baby long enough for Father David to save her.
What if I needed to save myself?
Cain cursed as I bolted away from him, towards the front door of the church, to the tiny, fragile crib I could see sitting on the top steps.
I never ran so fast in my entire life. Never. I needed to save the baby. To save myself.
But…
I suddenly realized that I also needed to see. To see myself. To try and administer all the love of the world in a single glance.
To give that sweet, terrified, innocent, forgotten and abandoned baby the armor she would need to fight.
To stare into those baby blue eyes and tell that tiny, terrified child that she would grow up safe with a family who loved her more than anything else in the world.
That the raging storms that now terrified her would soon become a favorite pastime of her new daddy—that he would hold her in his big, strong arms to watch the infamous Midwest storms her, sipping hot cups of cocoa with tiny marshmallows as they sat on a rickety porch together, huddled under a warm blanket…
That her new dad would love the Kansas City Royals only slightly less than he would love her, which was saying a lot…
That her mother would get really sick one day, but that it would be okay. The world would keep turning, just with one less laugh to echo across the mountains and the oceans and the fields…
That she would meet a Man of God, and that he would teach her wondrous, magical things…
That she would befriend a snarky blonde-haired stick of a girl who loved teddy bears and animals of all kinds, and wanted to take care of them…
That she would save a heroic, downtrodden, forgotten man living in an alley, and help him remember his own magical story, rekindling the fire of his very soul and giving him a purpose…
That she would meet a dangerous, wild boy in St. Louis that she would like very much, and that his lips would taste like licorice and mint…
And that, no matter what happened, she would grow up to become a woman of value and virtue—protecting those who needed her help, and picking up soldiers off the field of regret to set them back on the front lines with an unquenchable passion back in their hearts…
Yet she would also become a woman of vice and violence—willing to do wrong in order to do right—a woman to vanquish the wicked demons of the earth, the hypocrites in power, ripping off masks of deceit to show the world the truth, wielding despair like a blade to terrify Saints and Sinners alike.
I wanted to tell that baby that I loved her, that I would always love her, and that she was worth being loved…no matter how dark the world seemed.
The front door of the church opened and I screamed as I saw Father David stare down at the crib in disbelief, but the thunderous booming of the storm drowned out my desperate plea.
“I need to see her!” I screamed, sobbing and tripping as I ran. “I need to hold her!” I gasped, stumbling and slipping through a puddle.
But the thunder muted my screams, seeming to laugh at my need.
Father David scooped up the crib, scanned the street quickly, and slammed the door, never noticing me waving my arms, screaming, shouting, balling my fucking eyes out.
Cain was roaring behind me like a caged lion, but I couldn’t hear his words over my own ragged shout as that door slammed shut.
“NOOOOOOOO!” I screamed, reaching the steps. I ran up them two at a time, and finally slammed my fists against the door, hammering as hard as I could. “I need to see her! I need to hold her!” I shrieked, repeating the pleas David had not heard. “To tell her it will be alright!” I sobbed, my throat raw, my vocal chords shredded so that I could no longer recognize my own voice.
Thunder rolled in one continuous boom, like a train derailing from the tracks to strike an oil rig in a plentiful oil reserve to set off a chain reaction of explosions from deep within the earth.
The doors would not open.
I beat at them, railed at them, gnashing my teeth as I screamed.
They. Still. Did. Not. Open
My fists suddenly erupted with Silver claws, and I tore at the door, screaming at the top of my lungs to give me the baby, to let me see her, that she was mine to protect.
Like a mother should have done.
My claws scored, scraped, ripped, and scratched at the wood…
But the wooden doors were as hard as stone, my claws not doing the damage they should have. I pummeled at them, fueling my claws with as much Silver magic as I could hold, the world suddenly a palette of quicksilver in my eyes.
“I NEED THIS! SHE NEEDS MEEEEEE!” I screamed into the thunder and lightning and rain. The Silvers were based on need.
“I. NEED. YOUUUUUUUU!” I roared, my voice hoarse and animalistic.
Because I had never needed something in my life so badly.
Just one look, eyeball to eyeball, to tell that child that it would all be okay someday, that she didn’t have to be scared, didn’t have to hold onto her nightmare about this very night—one that had plagued me for so many years until I came face-to-face with the Demon, Johnathan.
The doors didn’t budge, and I fell to my knees, dragging my claws down the wooden door the whole way, weeping in defeat as the rain relentlessly soaked me.
Cain finally caught up with me, and I heard one word through the thunder. “…Demon!”
My tears vanished in an instant—having momentarily forgotten all about the Demon, about Father David’s story about this very night, about the Demon threatening the church itself.
And my fucking heart…
Lit.
On.
Fire.
No Demon was coming within reach of this door. No matter what.
I lifted my eyes, rain and tears pouring down my cheeks as I slowly held up my claws to look at Cain. He was staring incredulously at the door, shaking his head, mouthing something I couldn’t make out through the thunder. Then his eyes fell to my face and hands, widening in shock. I glanced down at my hands and saw the Silver tears falling from my eyes. Like when I had bound Nameless to my thumb.
I stood to my feet, dismissing his concern. “Where is the fucking Demon?” I snarled, staring out at the streets. I imagined a dome of air above me, and the rain abruptly stopped pelting us to hit my magical umbrella instead. The only way a Demon was coming near these doors was over my dead body.
Cain gripped my arms, his face frantic. “You’re not listening! You are the Demon!” he hissed, shaking me violently.
I jolted as if he had slapped me in the face. The dome of air protecting us from the rain disappeared and I saw Cain was pointing at the door to Abundant Angel Catholic Church.
I turned to find faint, scored lines marring the wood—the destruction, the scratches in the steps…just like…
A Demon had been clawing at the doors, demanding to have the baby for itself.
My legs gave out and Cain caught me, wiping hair from my eyes as he squeezed me to his chest tight enough to restrain me and almost hurt me, murmuring something unintelligible through the raging storm. I sobbed, jerking my head back and forth in horror, unable to make sense of it all.
How? If we were here now, and David had seen the claw marks in the wooden doors…this wasn’t some reflection, some memory, some hallucination of that night.
This. Was. That. Night.
Or Father David wouldn’t have ever had the story t
o tell.
And if, in the real world, Father David had ever decided to share that particular story with me—about a Demon clawing at the doors to the church, desperate to get its hands on me as a baby…
Well, something like that could have ruined an impressionable girl’s life. Make her feel like she was innately bad. Or that she needed to turn bad. Like a bitter apple.
Turn a potential Saint into a definite Sinner.
I straightened my legs, shaken by the revelation, but also accepting it. By not telling me—or anyone else—sooner, Father David had saved my soul.
Just like a Man of God should.
I just hoped that if this was reality, that I hadn’t changed anything by overacting my part. That if I survived this quest, I wouldn’t return to find that I was an entirely different person—that my actions here, now, had changed the sequence of events—that Father David had instead informed me of the Demon on the church steps when I was only a child, turning me into an entirely different person.
I lifted my eyes to see a white form of shifting fog standing beneath an overhang for a bus stop. Blue eyes stared back at me through that fog, and I imagined them winking. “YOU’RE DEAD, DEMON!” I roared instinctively, loud enough to feel like I had torn something in my vocal chords. It was all this fucking creature’s fault. Cain grabbed me as tightly as he could.
I began struggling and fighting, trying to jerk free of Cain’s grasp, but he held me as tight as a straightjacket.
“No, Callie. It’s what he wants! It’s a trap!” he growled, squeezing me tight against his chest until I was spitting and screaming like a wet cat.
But he hadn’t seen what I had. The Door behind Last Breath, and it was glowing Silver. “Let me GO!” I roared, my throat feeling bloody and shredded.
“Not like this! You’re crazy right now! Your arrogance is going to get us both killed! This is about more than your ego! More than your pride. More than your self-esteem!” he yelled in my ears.
“That’s it!” I snarled.
And I flung my arms out, sending Cain skidding to the ground, his back slamming into the steps of the church. I stared down at him, panting, trying to remind myself that he was a friend, not a foe. I glanced back to see the Last Breath hadn’t moved and, for all the world, looked to be smiling at me. Taunting me.
I turned back to Cain, forcing my breathing to slow, my head to clear. “You’re right. I am arrogant, but that can be a strength, too.” I offered him my hand. “Get up, Cain. The fucking Door is behind the bastard.” I was still furious, but I had it under control, able to think clearly again. Barely.
He flinched, staring out to find I was telling the truth. “Oh.” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Yeah, okay…” he said apologetically.
“Get ready to run right behind me. I’m going to smoke this son of a bitch,” I swore out loud. I took a deep, calming breath. Then I let a slow smile creep over my face as I met Cain’s eyes. “And for the record, I have so much self-esteem that I sweat vapor…and it’s about to open that fucking Door,” I snarled, pointing at Last Breath in a direct challenge.
Then I was running, my smile stretching wider as Cain coughed up a laugh, suddenly catching the word-play of my statement.
My hands hung down at my sides as I ran, suddenly hissing as each drop of rain hissed upon contact with my Silver claws, forming my own little clouds of vapor as I rushed Last Breath. I leapt at him, fully intending to tackle him through the Door, impaled on my claws.
He lunged into the air to meet me, his paws extended to reveal massive curled silver claws. And for a single moment, I got a clear view of him.
I stared into those glacier blue-eyes of the white lion and I laughed.
My claws struck his throat, shearing some of his white mane.
His claws raked across my cheeks.
Cain’s weight hitting my back shoved us both through the Door.
We were all screaming in one fashion or another as the Door slammed shut behind us.
Chapter 28
I struck a lawn of fresh-cut grass and tumbled head over heels, Cain’s weight grinding me into the grass with each flip, both of us still screaming as my claws ravaged the earth. I lurched to my feet, claws out, snarling as I searched for Last Breath’s corpse.
I was about to skin the damned cat and make a new scarf.
All I heard was a mocking purr slowly fading away.
A beautiful warm sun shone down on us, and my clothes were not remotely wet. I blinked rapidly, squinting at the bright, pleasant day. Birds chirped from nearby trees, and a faint murmur of song could be heard in the breeze—like the soothing hum of a child.
I couldn’t remember why I was here. Why Cain was here. Just a rage that made my arms shake. Rage at Last Breath. I had stabbed him in the throat with my claws, and I remembered the lion’s own silver claws raking my cheeks.
Silver claws…
Cain stepped into view, staring at me nervously as if fearing to see severe wounds. But he blinked rapidly, wiping at his eyes as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
He reached out a hand and plucked something from my cheek. I felt him pull a long strand of something that had stuck to my skin. He held out a strand of silver foil. I reached up and found two more that I pulled off. They went down my cheeks and even over my eyes.
Right where Last Breath had scored a hit with his claws.
I stared at Cain, not understanding.
“His claws didn’t harm you. They just…left silver streaks on your cheeks…” he said, almost as if to himself. I glanced down at my hands to see more of the silver foil on my palms and shirt, but these were silver drops. My tears. Cain noticed them, too, and looked on the verge of losing his Biblical shit.
“It’s my thing,” I told him, shrugging. “Well, the tears anyway. I’m not sure about Last Breath’s attack. Those should have ripped my face off…” I thought about his silver claws, and my own silver claws, frowning.
Were we…the same somehow?
“He is a lion,” I heard myself explaining, trying to make some sense of it all. “And he has silver claws like me…”
Cain was nodding, but didn’t look particularly pleased about the news. “I saw. But what does it mean? And why are we at the Vatican?”
I flinched, looking past his shoulder at the familiar buildings behind him. I looked left and right, and then spun in a slow circle. He was right. We were in Vatican City where I had first met Fabrizio and the other Shepherds. Where I had met the Conclave. But…when were we here this time? Was this also some past event? Like the church had been?
I didn’t see anyone walking around us, no nuns, or Shepherds. No one. But the place didn’t necessarily feel empty or anything. Not sinister, just…an unusually low-key day at the Vatican.
Cain placed his hands on his hips, glaring at me. “We need to talk about the apparent demonic P.M.S. you lost control of back there,” he said, pointing at the now-empty space where we had fallen through the Door.
I wilted guiltily, the memory coming back to me in bits and pieces. I had felt so raw, so emotional, almost primal. I hadn’t taken a logical, rational step until the end. Just reaction, wanting to give that baby—me—the weapons she would need to defend herself.
But my form of support had been as a raging demon, likely only adding to the fears and terrors that would sit with that baby for decades until she learned to overcome her fears when a Demon named Johnathan would come knocking on her door.
I locked eyes with Cain and, sensing no one was around, I sat back down in the grass.
He studied me warily, a disappointed look on his face to let me know he wasn’t won over by my act and that we were still going to talk about it. Then he sat down beside me, waiting.
“I don’t know what came over me…I just reacted. Knowing what I know now, how much fear and loss I had as a child, what I had to grow up with on my conscience. I just wanted to give that baby a role model, a kiss of encouragement. A
hug from a stranger that, even if she couldn’t ever remember specifically, she might remember someone squeezing her with so much love that she could never forget it. Even in the darkest of days to come, that someone loved her.”
Cain shook his head slowly at the insanity of it all. But I also saw compassion in his eyes. “This place is…cruel,” he finally said. He waited a few moments before continuing. “But we have to keep our heads straight, Callie. I think it’s all part of the test. To push us, to break us, to find out what matters most to us.”
I nodded in understanding. “I know.”
“You also made Father David’s story come true. You were the Demon he heard outside the church…” he said in a very soft tone.
I shuddered with disgust. “But what does that mean? Is this place real? Some memory shard? Some twisted hallucination?”
Cain thought about it for a long time, finally shaking his head. “I don’t know. But I do know that this seems to be all some extravagant way to test our desires, our fears, our very selves,” he said, enunciating the last word. “And we have to remember that. Each Door is a lesson, a choice, and the obelisk said there were prizes and prices for each one. We have to keep our goal intact.”
I nodded in silence, gathering my thoughts. What was our goal? What was my goal? Had it changed? Why was I really here? For the treasure of Solomon’s Temple? Because I’d been invited to play a game? Because I was related to Solomon? Was I here for answers or riches? Power or knowledge?
For others…
Or myself?
Cain was watching me thoughtfully. Seeing me finally focus on him, he let out a faint smile. “You fucked that pussycat up, by the way,” he said. I fought the grin struggling to break through, but finally relented.
Cain burst out laughing, slapping his knees adamantly. “You are one crazy bitch, Callie. Crazy as hell,” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Do you have any idea what you looked like on those church steps? It was terrifying, and I don’t’ scare easily. I’ve been respectfully concerned of others before, sure, but actually bone-deep scared?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have opened those doors if Abel himself had come back from the grave to beg me,” he whispered after a few moments. He grew silent as if the admission had only just been realized. Then he grunted. “Yeah, not even then,” he finally reaffirmed.
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 16