Read Demon's Daughter: A Cursed Book Online
Authors: Amy Braun
He glared. “No. Athens, Texas.”
I sighed, and solemnly vowed never to try and humor Rorikel again. His brain probably couldn’t comprehend bitter jokes of any kind.
“What’s in Athens?” Warrick asked.
“We have sensed a powerful magic presence there,” Sephiel answered. “Dark magic. It seems prudent to investigate the possibility that the witch is summoning demons there, and perhaps uncover clues to stopping the Opening ritual.”
“I can feel it too,” Dro whispered. I looked at her, and she at me. “I can feel the darkness coming from there. Almost like it’s in my blood.”
Dro sounded calm, though she was the opposite. I wasn’t about to question her judgment, though I did see the nervous look Rorikel and Sephiel gave each other.
“What?” I asked.
Rorikel looked away. Sephiel turned to face us. “To feel black magic in her blood like that… It is, unusual for a Nephilim to do.”
“But they can do it, right?” Dro asked. “I’m not the only one?”
He looked at her sadly. “If there is another Nephilim with that skill, they are not known to us.”
Of course not,
I thought grimly.
That would mean Dro is actually a Nephilim. And she isn’t.
“We’ll worry about what that means later,” I said, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. And knowing I was probably wrong.
Chapter 12
Since Rorikel and Sephiel were the only ones who could teleport, we were forced to drive. Sephiel produced a car from somewhere (since Rorikel was probably too virtuous to steal) and we decided to stop at a motel in Abilene for rest.
The angels checked us into an almost decent motel that took cash for joint rooms. Rorikel, Max, and Warrick took one while me, Dro, and Sephiel took the other. The angels took some time to set up invisible walls– wards, apparently– and spells that would avert human attention and soundproof the rooms. There was no telling who might be possessed since the incident at the border. We hadn’t really listened to the news in the last few days, but I hardly imagined all of those demons had been killed yet, even if the portal was closed. I just hoped no one else had been killed. Well, except for Drake. I hoped the demons had torn him to shreds.
Despite the joint rooms, there wasn’t much privacy. The guys wanted the room doors open in case they needed to come in and rescue us from a demonic attack, as if we were helpless damsels. I swear they forgot I was carrying a jacket full of throwing knives and a well used hatchet.
We didn’t have much to do, so we spread ourselves around our room. I was sitting on the edge of the bed. Warrick leaned against the dresser with his hands at his sides. Sephiel and Rorikel stood like white statues on either side of the front door. Max decided to sit at the blocky table in the corner with Dro and use his cell phone to find clues about the town of Athens. He stopped when he came across information regarding a place called Fuller Park. The Park was famous for its haunted gravesite, and the satanic rituals that often went on there.
“They have a tunnel system shaped like a pentagram,” he added.
“Seriously?” I said.
“Yup. There are five stone markers for each of the entrances.”
“Is it occupied?”
“Not for a long time. Only paranormal hunters and Satanists venture out that way, but these days they seem to be staying away from it. Like even they can tell it’s a messed up place.” He held my eyes. “They say it’s cursed.”
“Probably because it is,” muttered Warrick. “Slayers get called out to this part of Texas all the time to deal with possessions.”
“How many of you are there?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know how much backup we might have if things went straight to… Well, if they went straight to Hell.
He hesitated. “Most of us like to stay under the radar, but we make sure to keep up on one another’s movements. Passing warnings, updates, that kind of thing.” He took a deep breath. “Right now, there are six living slayers. Including me.”
“Only six?” I said, shocked. “In all of the States?”
He paused, then said, “In all of North America.”
I dropped my head into my hands and let out an angry sigh.
“It’s not a career people get into, Constance. If you’re not born into it, you find a damn good reason to join. Then you pray you’re good enough to stay alive.”
I lifted my head when he said that. From the hurt expression on his face, I realized I had hit a sore spot. But I wasn’t going to apologize when any hope for more help had been slashed to ribbons.
“Fair enough,” I said, leaning back and trying to look apologetic. “So we can’t expect any more slayers.” I looked at Rorikel. “What about other angels?”
Rorikel snorted like I’d just asked a stupid question. I held back from throwing something at him.
“Angels avoid the affairs of demons at all costs,” he proclaimed in a ‘no-duh’ tone of voice. Which I hated.
“To have the power they have, the witch must be willing to give themselves to possession, regardless of the consequences to their body, mind and soul,” said Sephiel, quickly diffusing the hostility between Rorikel and me. “We may encounter resistance from possessed individuals.”
I held back a shiver, remembering what it had been like to be possessed all over again. The excruciating pain, the desperation to claw out of the crushing trap and take my soul back. I wrapped my arms around my middle. My brain couldn’t comprehend a single reason why anyone would think demonic possession was something worth doing.
“They use astral projection and mortal immolation, assuming the demons will grant power to them once the possession is complete.” Rorikel added.
His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked every inch the tough, no B.S. bodyguard he was supposed to be.
I blinked at him, then looked at Sephiel, Warrick and Max. “Can one of you explain that in English?”
Rorikel scoffed at me. I expected nothing less.
“It’s an out of body experience,” Max clarified. “Basically you share your spirit with something of your choice. You have to be careful and totally prepared when you do it, otherwise you can get possessed by something you don’t intend to.”
“Like me,” I muttered.
“Yes,” Sephiel confirmed. “But your soul was still inside you, so Ohzlan’s abilities were limited by your human body. When a person’s spirit opens completely to a demon, they are far more formidable. That is why most dark magic practitioners often use blood to entice and invoke the demon they are calling. The more blood that is used, the more powerful the spell, and therefore the possession.”
I thought back to the night at Owl Creek six years ago. “Is that how you create portals? Blood magic?”
Sephiel nodded. “Only a human sharing a demon’s soul can open a portal. The potency and length of time the portal can remain open depends on the strength of the demon. Possessors can only have a portal open for a minute or two, but a Higher demon could leave a portal open for hours.”
I cringed internally. It had definitely been a Higher demon that night at the camp. “How often do people get possessed by Higher demons?”
“Rarely,” said Rorikel. “They are far too difficult to control. They often ask permission of their vessel before entering it, making them easier to manipulate.”
“So, just to be clear on how it works for people who decide to go insane,” Max said, “you have to bleed yourself or someone else to the point of death, make your spirit an open door, then say yes when the big bad demon comes asking for a body-buddy.”
“That is the idea, essentially,” Sephiel said grimly.
Max sighed. “Why are people so crazy?” he muttered.
“What would happen if someone said yes to the archangels?”
We all turned our heads to look at Dro. She saw my expression and backtracked almost immediately. “I’m not saying yes, but I want to know what would happen if I did.”
“The archangel chosen for you would need to be summoned in a ritual,” said Rorikel, all too happy to answer. “Your soul would be taken out and replaced with the spirit of the archangel to fulfill its purpose.”
Dro winced, and Sephiel stepped in.
“It is… uncomfortable… for humans,” he said. “But there is not as much pain as you think.”
“What happens to my soul?” she asked. “Would I get it back?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, just enough for me to see. “After the demons have been defeated, your soul would be transported to Heaven, where it would belong with honor.”
“But her body would die,” I said, getting his attention. “Her soul wouldn’t be in her human body ever again.”
Sephiel tried to answer, but Rorikel chose to get into the conversation instead.
“You do not know what a privilege it is to be the vessel of an archangel,” he defended fiercely. “If she is as powerful as Ohzlan claimed, she might have been chosen by one of the most powerful archangels. Perhaps Raphael or Gabriel, or even Michael himself. With their combined strength, the demon hordes would cower in fear, and victory would be assured.”
“What if it wasn’t?” I argued.
He looked like he wanted to hit me. Again. “You dare question the fortitude of the Heavenly Host?”
“I question that everything that’s supposed to go according to plan, yeah. What if she was hurt, or injured?”
I didn’t add in the obvious ‘what if she was killed,’ because Rorikel did it for me.
“If the vessel is destroyed, the archangel could vacate and choose another Nephilim to inhabit to complete his mission. Time would tell when such an act would occur, as Andromeda is currently the only Nephilim we know of, but there are almost no demons that can stop an archangel. They are much too powerful.”
I was ready to fight him some more, but Dro asked another question.
“What would happen if the demons caught me?”
Sephiel looked at her with deadly seriousness. “That will not happen, Andromeda.”
“But Constance is right,” she countered. “Plans can be screwed up. If Max knew something would go wrong, he would have said something by now,” she said, looking at her almost-boyfriend.
Max nodded a little stiffly. “I’m still only getting flashes,” he said. “Nothing really concrete. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Dro looked at the angels again. “I can’t sense anything but the power coming from that place in Athens. It’s spreading like a virus. I want to know,” she said, sounding braver than she looked. “I need to know.”
Sephiel read her eyes carefully. I wondered why he took such an interest with my sister. It wasn’t love. I didn’t know if angels were capable of loving anyone who wasn’t God. Sephiel looked at Dro with fondness, like she reminded him of someone he cared about.
“The demon’s ritual requires blood,” Sephiel explained. “A copious amount of it. As the bleeding begins, a Higher demon must be summoned to complete the final piece of the spell and open the Gates.”
“What’s the final piece?” Dro asked when he didn’t keep going.
His bright blue eyes met her own, and he looked oddly uncomfortable.
“Hell contains the dead souls of sinners, and sin began with Eve when Lucifer tempted her with the apple in the Garden of Eden. Eve was created from Adam’s rib as per God’s design to open the gates of human life, so must another rib be given to open the Gates of Hell.”
Dro paled slightly, and I felt a surge of disgust and anger build up.
“That’s pretty Old Testament,” Max said uncomfortably.
Sephiel looked at him. “We have been alive for millennia. The Old Testament is familiar to us. It is how things used to be, and all the most dynamic summonings and spells are used with the similar mindset.”
“Taking out an innocent person’s rib is a touch on the dramatic side,” Warrick griped, “even for the Old Testament.”
“It kept the human populace obedient,” Rorikel replied sharply. “These new generations of humans are even more disgraceful than the last. They blatantly sin, and find no shame in it.”
“Not everyone can be a perfect little angel,” I threw at him.
He glared daggers at me. “Certainly not you.”
“Don’t pretend you know anything about my big sister,” Dro snapped.
I could only imagine the things going through her head, all the memories of the horrific things I had done, but she was still ready to drop all her problems to defend my honor, just as I would have done for her. “You have no idea what we’ve been through.”
Rorikel stared at her. “God allows you free will,” he said, toning back his anger only because she was important, “but humans abuse it for their own selfishness. All of you are more likely to choose sin than not.” He looked at me. “And most of you have.”
“Then why bother protecting us all?” Warrick disputed, to my surprise. “If you find us so repulsive, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I am here to protect the Nephilim until her archangel comes for her. Nothing more. Heaven does not accept sinners, and I see none of you attempting to repent.”
“You’re probably not going to either,” I told him, seething with anger. “I did what I had to do to keep Dro alive. If you think I’m going to regret killing murderers, rapists, and monsters, you clearly haven’t faced off with any of them. You’re just an angelic asshole who’s never tried to save someone’s life and never given them the chance to change their mistakes.”
Rorikel straightened his back, and I was suddenly very aware of how tall he was, that he was a warrior with thousands of years of experience on me, and had powers I would never have because I was an easily damageable human.
“Oh, but I have,” he said in a frozen voice, “and I have discovered that humans do not change. They will never place their beliefs above their own personal goals. There is no justification for murder, which is why you will never see Paradise, Constance Ramirez.”
He turned and stormed out of the motel room, slamming the door so hard it rattled in the frame. I was upset I hadn’t gotten the last word, but I didn’t want anyone to know Rorikel’s words were bothering me. I’d always known I would never go to Heaven, but I wished there had been some kind of hope for me. That maybe I could be forgiven just enough to go to the same afterlife as my sister. The idea of spending such a short human lifetime with Dro only to lose her when I died didn’t sit well with me. I know that was how life went, but as a kid I thought we would stay with each other forever. I held onto that hope as we got older. It had motivated me, reminded me I wasn’t going to lose her.