Demon's Daughter: A Cursed Book (22 page)

Now I wasn’t so sure.

“What the hell crawled up his ass, laid eggs and died?” Max grumbled, reaching under the table to take Dro’s hand.

Sephiel sighed. “Rorikel is what you might call a close-minded individual. He does not like change, and does not appreciate those who scorn or dishonor the goodness of God.”

Yup. That sounds like Rorikel.
“What about you? Do you think all us sinners should burn in Hell and have demons stab us in the ass with pitchforks all the time?”

Sephiel smiled, but there wasn’t a lot of amusement in it. “I think humans have stumbled, and not all of them have regretted the mistakes they have made. Not all of them deserve to be saved. But perhaps that is what makes them so different from us. They have the chance to learn from their misfortunes and mishaps. Angels do not. We must always be the image of grace and strength. We cannot fail.”

Sephiel’s bright blue eyes had gone dark with almost human emotions. I thought I spotted guilt, sorrow, and a bit of anger.

“I take it not many angels feel the way you do,” guessed Warrick.

“Very few,” he replied. “Certainly none of the archangels.” Sephiel looked at Dro with that semi-creepy stare of longing again. “Your mother and I were one of the few who respect humans.”

“You know my birth mother?” Dro asked, perking up in her chair as her face brightened with curiosity and surprise.

Sephiel nodded. “Her name was Everiel.”

Dro quickly picked up on the ‘was,’ but couldn’t hold back her interest. “What was she like?”

“She was a gentle and strong, kind and just. She was not afraid to speak her mind and stand up for others.” Deep sorrow creased his eyes. “She looked like you. She was beautiful.”

“What happened to her?” Dro asked quietly.

Sephiel looked away. “She died.”

The angel’s silence made it very clear that he wasn’t going into any more details. Knowing more about Dro’s angel mother seemed important, but I didn’t want to piss off the only angel who seemed to like us.

“What about my father?” Dro asked. “Did you know him? Is he still alive?”

Sephiel’s eyes flicked up, and I didn’t miss the quick spark of rage in them.

“I do not know the answer to either of those questions.”

He was obviously lying. I was pretty adept at reading lies. He knew Dro’s father, and he hated him.

Before I could press the issue any further, Sephiel turned for the door. “I must seek out Rorikel and bring him back. I do not wish for him to remain angry with any of you.”

Sephiel closed his eyes and winked out, leaving an empty space where he’d once stood. I was getting really sick of that. I looked at Dro, who was still holding Max’s hand and looking troubled.

“You okay, Dro?” I asked her.

She looked at me nervously. “I thought angels would be easier to deal with than demons.”

“You’re assuming this was supposed to be easy to begin with,” I said, leaning back and rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm.

“Do you think we can trust either of them?” Warrick asked.

He was still near the dresser, now with his arms folded over his chest, and his green eyes piercing into my dark brown ones.

“Sephiel, maybe,” I said. “The only thing we can trust Rorikel not to do is hurt Dro. He doesn’t give a fuck about the rest of us.”

I turned my eyes from him to Max. “Sense anything we should be looking out for?”

Max hesitated, then closed his eyes and focused. He breathed out and I could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids as he stretched his ability. After a minute or two, he opened his eyes and looked at us.

“Not really,” he said. “Just a lot of red. Can’t even tell if it’s fire or blood or both.”

“Terrific,” I muttered.

Max frowned sharply. “It’s not easy trying to look into the future and knowing you might hate what you see. You can cut me some slack, Constance.”

He was right. He’d been doing everything he could, giving us all the knowledge he could and supporting my little sister at every turn. He didn’t deserve to be an outlet for my frustration.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I can.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was close enough. Max saw that, and relaxed. He might have been the only one who could.

***

We were leaving for Athens first thing in the morning, so we decided to get as much sleep as possible. The angels were out patrolling the motel, since Rorikel was still grumpy and didn’t want to be near a naughty little sinner like me.

I tried to sleep, holding my hatchet close to my chest and running my thumb up its neck. My father had given me this hatchet just before he died. He’d known I would fight to keep my mother and sister safe, but he’d intended to get the hatchet back. He didn’t know he would be among the first to die that night.

I carried the hatchet as a reminder of those I had lost, and to remember that it had been one of the weapons to keep me alive when I had nothing else. I felt stronger when I held it, even though the blade was chipped and the leather was starting to crack on the handle. That was another thing I had in common with the weapon– both of us were scarred and tattered on the outside, but still whole and utterly ruthless.

On the bed across from me, Dro was tossing and turning. She wasn’t talking in her sleep so I didn’t have to be worried about nightmares yet, but I didn’t approve of whatever was keeping her awake.

“You can’t sleep either?” I asked once she settled again.

Dro rolled over, lying on her side and looking at me. Her long white hair practically glowed in the darkness of the motel room.

“What gave it away?” she said wryly.

I shrugged, grinning a little. “Big sister intuition.”

“Uh huh.” Dro tried to smile, but couldn’t do it.

“What’s on your mind?”

She sighed, toying with the ends of her hair. “Everything,” she confessed. “What Rorikel said about the archangels and sinners, the rituals, Sephiel talking about my mother. It’s a lot to process.”

“You’re right. It is.”

Dro started twirling her hair around her finger slowly. “I wish she were still alive,” she said softly. “Then I could talk to her about what I am. She could help me understand it all.”

“Sephiel seemed really care about her,” I said. “He’ll help us.”

“But you don’t trust him.”

“Just because I don’t trust him doesn’t mean he won’t help you. You’re the one this is all about.”

Dro dropped her hair. “Only because I’m a vessel. I wouldn’t matter to anyone if I was just a normal human.”

I frowned. “You would matter to me.”

Her eyes met mine. “That isn’t what I mean, Con. I know you love me, and no matter what I’ll still love you, too. But think about all the problems that have been caused because of what I am. If it weren’t for me, Mom and Dad would still be alive.”

A cold ache chilled my heart. “Don’t say that, Dro. What happened to Mom and Dad wasn’t your fault.”

My sister’s icy blue eyes looked heavy. “You know that it was.”

“No. It was the demons. Not you. You–”

“The only reason the demons were there was because of me. If I hadn’t been, we’d all still be a family.”

“What about Max?” I asked, grasping at straws. “You never would have met him if it hadn’t been for everything that happened.”

Dro shifted, resting her head on the pillow and wrapping her arms around her middle. “No. But Manny might still be alive.”

This wasn’t going to work. Even if I told her that Manny’s death was on my conscience, I couldn’t deny that Dro’s family history had brought some horrible circumstances on us. I would never convince her all the darkness and pain we carried wasn’t her fault. I would never put that guilt on her. She did it to herself.

“That’s why I asked Rorikel about what would happen if I said yes,” Dro said.

I looked at her again. “You’re thinking about giving in?”

“If it means stopping the demons, what choice do I have?”

“We stop the demons by figuring out what the witch is doing, then throw a wrench in it,” I told her. “We don’t do something that will get you possessed and killed by an angel.”

“Con, we have no clue who the witch is. Who knows what will be waiting for us in Athens. Saying yes might be the only thing that keeps us alive. At least if the archangel takes me, we’ll have a chance to stop them.”

I pushed myself up into a sitting position. “No. I am not going to let you do that.”

She sat up with me. “It isn’t your choice, Constance. It’s mine. You have to consider the possibility that we won’t be able to handle whatever we face there.”

“I’m not going to let an angel take you over and kill you just so it can have your body,” I exclaimed angrily.

I turned my eyes away from her, remembering the horrible, violating pain of my own possession. How completely I had been dominated, stripped of my safety, and trapped as the demon said and did things I couldn’t stop.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Dro,” I whispered shakily. “You don’t know…”

I couldn’t go on. Even now, I could taste Ohzlan’s thick, smoky body winding down my throat, burning me as he crawled toward my heart. I could feel the sudden, hard shove as he pushed me aside and stood on top of me. The sharp slices of the net as it was thrown over me, how savagely it cut whenever I moved, begging and screaming for him to leave my sister alone, the tear of his claws in my soul as the angels tried to rip him out–

I jumped when Dro touched my hand. I looked at it, beginning to calm down as she gave it a gentle squeeze. I took a deep breath and looked in her pale blue eyes. They were the only things that were completely familiar to me. Seeing all her kindness, pride, and love was all that kept me from having a panic attack. The pressure and pain in my heart started to fade, and suddenly I was me again.

“I didn’t say I was going to do it,” she assured me when I was more or less okay. “But if it comes down to your life or mine, I won’t hesitate. You can’t keep me safe all the time, Con. You’re human. I’m not. I can handle things you can’t.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t give a shit about pain.”

“But I do.” Dro shook her head. “I’m tired of this, Connie. I’m tired of being hunted and being the reason everything gets messed up. If something ever happened to you…” Dro looked away, blinking rapidly and tightening her grip on my hand. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I’d rather die.”

“Don’t say that,” I told her. “Don’t ever say that. None of this is your fault, Dro. It’s the demons fault. Even the angels are to blame. But not you. I won’t let you slip. I promise. We’ll find a way to stop them. You can start fresh. We’ll get through this, little sister.”

Dro looked at me as if she had hope. She sighed heavily and shook her head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It won’t be. But we can’t give up. That’s never been us.”

A sloppy half smile came over her face. It was faked for me, but it was progress. I hoped. “No, I guess not.”

I wished there was more for me to tell her, a way to make her believe that both of us would make it through alive. But I couldn’t lie to her, and it would be safe to assume that I might die. I’d refuse to let my sister die, but as she had pointed out, I was human. It was so easy for me to be killed.

“Get some sleep, Dro. Think about everything else in the morning.”

She nodded, finally releasing my hand and starting to tuck herself back into the bed. She glanced up at me. “You need to sleep too, Constance. You look more tired than usual.”

I stifled a laugh. “Thanks, sis. Nice to hear that kind of thing.”

She shrugged. For a second, she looked like a sixteen year old girl again, and not a young woman growing up far too fast in a dangerous life. Dro dropped her head onto her pillow, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

I watched for signs of a nightmare, but nothing happened. I lay on my back and looked at the ceiling again, resting the hatchet onto my stomach. I closed my eyes, but didn’t feel tired. I was thinking too much about Dro’s willingness to sacrifice herself so the demons could be stopped. It was just like her to give herself up like that for the greater good, but I wouldn’t let it happen. I had fought my possession, and nearly died because of it. Dro wouldn’t fight, and that would be the reason she died. I couldn’t survive if something happened to her.

She was my rock, my purpose and foundation. Without her, I was lost. I was the earth without the moon. Deep down, I was broken. Something inside me had snapped years ago, and the only thing holding me together was my little sister.

Thinking about life without her was impossible. She’d been with me so long I couldn’t even remember a day without her, and I didn’t want to. The irony was that she was the last bit of normality in my life. The last familiar thing. When something threatened her, I was the first one at her defense…

“I don’t think I’m doing this right, little sister,” I said, trying to weave the plastic flowers into Dro’s braid. “They keep falling out.”

She sat patiently on the porch with her back to me, dainty pale hands clasped in her lap on her flower printed dress. Dro was going to be ten years old in a couple weeks, and she was taking advantage of her birthday month by making me braid flowers into her hair.

“You’ll get it,” Dro promised with a smile.

My sister had every confidence in me, even though I had no clue what I was doing. She was in a good mood today. The last few years had been difficult, every day a challenge for our family to cope with Dro’s strange abilities and powers. They hadn’t believed her until she proved them by mentioning things no one could know. We never said anything or looked for help, because we were afraid she would be taken away. Mom and Dad still treated her like a princess, but they were careful around her. I had steadily gotten used to the things Dro could do. They were a part of who she was and couldn’t be changed. Dro always felt like she was a freak, so my acting normal around her assured her that she was just a regular girl.

I just wish I knew how to braid her hair.

“It’s not hard,” she said, as if reading my thoughts.

My fingers hesitated in her hair. I was still learning the extent of her weird abilities. I had thought mind reading wasn’t one of them, but I was never sure of anything when it came to Dro’s gifts.