Saint of Sinners (10 page)

I turned to Mom.

She tried to pull herself away faster, leaving a bleeding trail on the hardwood floor. I pointed with my right hand and pulled her to me with my power. She choked on a gasp, her eyes tight with pain as I held her an arm’s length away from me.

“You’re going to pay for this,” she said.

“I’ve been paying my whole life because of you.” It was her choice to have sex with the devil, to give birth to the Antichrist. Even then, she could’ve changed her mind. She could have loved me and protected me instead of treating me like shit.

My rage burned hotter and I channeled it through my sword. I plunged Animus into her stomach. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. Then she made a horrible noise and I realized she was trying to scream but couldn’t suck in enough air to do it. A terrible smell filled my nose as I pulled Animus out. Mom took half a step back, still making that noise.

I hadn’t just stabbed her, I’d set her on fire. I hadn’t tried to, but my rage must’ve channeled through the sword. The clothing and skin around her wound were covered with flames that quickly spread. Somehow she was still on her feet.

I seriously considered letting her burn, but my stomach rolled. I swept my blade out and cut off her head. Even for a bitch like her, I could summon a little mercy.

I set the whole house on fire, being much more thorough than I had with any of the other houses. Then I went out to the front yard and sat with Mew-Mew, watching it burn.

Chapter 12

Friday was hard. Two of my teachers gave me skeptical looks when I said I was out sick, but I figured if I got all my work done, they’d forget about it. Sitting through my morning classes felt so surreal. I’d gotten used to the routine in the almost two months I’d been in school, but after yesterday it was hard for me to focus. I’d spent a whole day killing people, including my parents, and now here I was sitting in a classroom, pretending to care about math and American literature.

Mom and Ken were dead. They couldn’t ever beat me again, could never treat me like shit and try to convince me of my glorious destiny. I still had to worry about Satan, though, and I wondered if he’d be pissed off enough at what I’d done to come after me. The protection scrolls seemed to be working, but would he be mad enough to grab me right from school? Gods preferred subtlety in this day and age, even the devil, and I hoped that would keep me safe.

At lunch I picked at my food.

“Is something wrong, Alex?” Hayley asked. “Are you still sick?”

I’d told everyone I ate something that didn’t agree with me and that’s why I’d been gone. “No, I’m fine,” I lied. “I guess my appetite hasn’t recovered.” These kids had no idea what was sitting with them. Was I putting them in danger? If Satan did show up, I’d teleport out of there and hope he’d follow me.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hang out tonight. You should probably rest.”

“No, I’m fine.” I needed to spend time with her. She was the best thing in my “normal” life. No, make that the best thing in my life, period, aside from Mew-Mew. “School food was probably a bad choice.” I made a face and pushed it away. “For all I know, that’s what made me sick in the first place.”

That got a laugh out of Jayson, who ate school lunch every day and complained about it most of the time.

“You can have my apple,” Casey offered.

I considered it for a moment and finally said, “Sure.” This was what I needed, interaction with normal people, to sink myself into this pretend life.

***

On Christmas Day, I paid a visit to Joshua. When he opened the door I smiled and said, “Happy birthday!”

He sighed. “It’s not my birthday, Alex. I told you, it’s in April.”

“I know, but this is the day everybody celebrates it.” I lifted the boxes in my arms. “So I got you two presents.”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. “Come in.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Mew-Mew. He wanted to come, too.” He hadn’t minded Mew-Mew when we lived together for those few days in summer, but when I was with Joshua I tried to be on my best behavior. It was polite to ask. It was the opposite of what I was like with my parents. I frowned, remembering they were dead. That I’d killed them.

“Not at all, he’s more than welcome.”

We went inside and I couldn’t miss the huge manger scene. I arched an eyebrow at Joshua.

He shrugged. “It’s traditional.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Not as weird as your parents giving you Christmas presents,” he countered.

“True.”

At Mom and Ken’s house, Christmas had been a strange occasion. They wanted me to experience it since it was such a major American holiday, but on the other hand, it was supposed to be Jesus’ birthday. They’d decided to emphasize just the presents, doing their best to spoil me and train me to ask for things and expect to get them. Mew-Mew had been a Christmas present, the only thing I’d had to beg for.

There were things I couldn’t have: going to a regular school, freedom, not to be the Antichrist anymore, for Satan to leave me alone, for my parents to die. Intangible things I didn’t get, but I got all the latest toys and electronic gadgets.

Again I was reminded that I’d killed my mom and stepdad. No more Christmases with them, not ever. I wondered if I should tell Joshua what I’d done.

Joshua and his mom had a small tree in the living room. I slid the presents I’d bought under it, happy with myself for remembering to buy something for his mom.

“Alex! Merry Christmas.” She came out of the kitchen, looking genuinely glad to see me. “Dinner will be ready soon if you want to help set the table.”

“Sure.”

They didn’t have a dining room in the small house; they just ate at the kitchen table. It had a nice little centerpiece with candles and everything and a white tablecloth. Joshua and I set the table and helped put the food out. The table was so small it didn’t all fit. We had to leave some of the food on the counter or we wouldn’t have room for our plates.

We sat down to eat, passing dishes around the small table. Tamales, rice, turkey, a drink called
champurrado
, plus leftovers from the night before. Most of it homemade, all of it delicious.

“So, I hear you’re going to high school. How do you like it?” his mom asked.

“It’s pretty good. Most of the classes are boring, but I guess that’s normal.” I took a spoonful of rice and handed her the bowl. “It’s not quite everything I hoped it’d be, but I built it up in my head. I thought I’d never get to go, so it became this sorta mythical thing.” I shrugged.

“Are you getting good grades?”

That made me chuckle. It just seemed like such a weird thing to ask. So… small talk, I guess. “Yes.”

“That’s good. Are you getting along with the other kids? Joshua said you had some friends.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a group of friends. They have no idea what I am. It’s weird to pretend to be normal, but…” I shrugged again.

“I’ve done it all my life. I hate lying, but it’s the only way I can have a normal life,” Joshua said.

Now there was a shock. Christ lying to pass as normal. I hadn’t thought about it before. We’d have to talk later, because I had some questions for him and I wasn’t comfortable getting into a deep discussion in front of his mom.

After dinner we gathered around the tree. Joshua’s mom had gotten me something, so I was glad I’d remembered to get her a gift.

I gave Joshua an iPad since I’d seen he was a little tech deficient. It would come in handy, especially next year when he went to college. He looked a little dubious about it, and I wondered if he was thinking about where I’d gotten the money. He didn’t ask, though.

I got his mom a pair of earrings, small ruby studs. She didn’t seem the type to appreciate showy bling, so I’d gone for simple. She got me a large wild-animal photo book, the kind people call a “coffee table book.” We thanked each other and had a slightly awkward hug.

Joshua got me a framed poster with penguins on an iceberg and one of them jumping off. It said “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear,” a quote from Mark Twain. It was one of those corporate motivational posters, the ones I’d seen made fun of all over the Internet. From anyone else it would have been silly, even stupid, but I knew Joshua meant it.

Looking at the poster, I almost teared up. I’d given him shit about not helping us when Fenrir got loose, called him a coward. But he’d come with us to fight Satan and stop the end of the world. He’d been there to see me stand up to my father, and he had a good idea of how much it took for me to do it.

“Thanks,” I told him. “I’ll put it on my wall to remind me.” Was I being a coward now, hiding behind the spell scrolls? Or was I being smart, putting off our next fight until I was strong enough to beat him? I wanted our next battle to be our last, to beat him so bad that he never came after me again.

I asked to go with Joshua to his room to talk for a while. I closed the door behind us and he sat on the bed. I sat on the chair by his little desk. His room was so much smaller than my bedroom had been. “I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to freak out.” Best to get the worst of it out of the way.

He gave me a long look, then nodded. “I promise.”

“I killed my parents… my mom and stepdad.”

He sucked in a breath and his eyes widened. He let his breath out slowly. “Okay. I suppose I should have expected that. You’ve gotten a lot stronger, and I know you hated them.” I hadn’t told him I was stronger, but he must have felt it. I could feel him, and I knew he’d gotten stronger, too, although not as much as I had. We had a connection since we were mirrors of each other: Christ and Antichrist.

“And I killed a bunch of Satanists, too.” I didn’t regret it, but I felt something like guilt admitting it to him. I knew he wouldn’t be happy about it.

He took another slow breath. “Okay.” He waited a few seconds and then asked, “Why?”

“They sacrificed cats for my birthday.” Just thinking about it pissed me off again, and I had to catch myself before I heated up.

“So you punished them for it.”

“Fuck yeah, I did. Sorry.” He didn’t like me swearing. I got up and paced. “It’s bad enough they killed cats, but they did it in
my
name. They were worshipping
me
.”

Joshua studied me. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to know.” I stopped pacing. “You’re my friend.” It hit me again how bizarre this was; we were supposed to be mortal enemies, but instead we were pissing off both our fathers by being friends. Jehovah had warned Joshua that this would end badly, that I’d betray him. He was wrong.

“So you’re telling me because you don’t want to keep things from me?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought maybe you were going to ask me for forgiveness.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Me? Ask for forgiveness?” I leaned on the back of the chair and kept laughing.

He laughed a little, too, before turning serious. “You don’t feel bad about it? You killed your mom and your stepdad, and other people.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing bad people, Joshua. If you read your dad’s book, he doesn’t have a problem killing all kinds of people, including innocent children.” We’d had a similar argument the first time we met a few years ago. “I wouldn’t kill children. I
didn’t
. Some of those Satanists had kids, and I let them all go, unlike a certain slayer of the firstborn.” I pointed up.

“My Father had his reasons.” He frowned and shifted, looking uncomfortable.

“So did I.” I clenched my fist and again had to control myself so I didn’t start burning things.

Joshua sighed. “Let’s not fight. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Yeah.” I made myself calm down and sat in the chair again. “I actually wanted to ask you how you handle it—lying to your friends, I mean.”

“I’ve done it since the day I found out I was God’s son. I should be used to it.”

“But you’re not?”

He shook his head. “I hate lying.”

“So do I, but I knew I had to if I wanted to try having a normal life. I lied to get my apartment; I lied to get into school. That wasn’t so bad. But lying to my friends fu—uh, sucks. I can’t tell them who I really am.”

“I know. I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t.”

“The hardest part is lying to my girlfriend.”

His eyes widened. “
You
have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” I’d forgotten to tell him. “Her name is Hayley. We’ve been going out since the third week of school.”

He kept staring.

“Oh, come on. Don’t look so shocked. You know I’m not all heartless and sh—stuff.” He knew I loved Mew-Mew and was therefore capable of love.

“You have a girlfriend?” he repeated. “I’m sorry, I know you love your cat and you have friends, but that’s not something I expected.”

“Do
you
have a girlfriend?” I asked.

“No. My Father doesn’t want me to date.”

I managed not to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t resist a dig. “Well, I’ve got one up on you, then.”

“I could make a comment about sins of the flesh, but I won’t.” His mouth twitched a little.

“We haven’t had sex, so you can’t get me with that one,” I told him. “But in all seriousness, I like her a lot. I think I might…” I hesitated, not sure I was comfortable talking to him about this. I’d already discussed it with Stefan and he gave me some good advice. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get another opinion, to have someone else to talk about this with. Even if he might not understand the way Stefan could.

“What?” He leaned closer.

“I think I might be falling in love with her, but part of me doesn’t want to. Sometimes I wonder why I got myself into this mess in the first place.”

“Why don’t you want to? Is it your… dark side?” he asked carefully.

I snorted. “Hardly. I think it’s the good side. I mean, the Antichrist in love with a human, that’s just wrong. And how can I love someone if I can’t even tell her who I am?”

Joshua frowned. “You don’t think you deserve her.” He came to the same conclusion Stefan had.