The fight goes out of me momentarily and my shoulders sag. “Is Safira alive?” I whisper the question—half scared of his answer and having the minuscule ounce of hope I possess shattered.
Tilting his head at me, he takes his sweet time answering. Leaning forward, making the silky fabric of his shirt dip, he grins slyly. “Yes.”
I lean fully back in the chair, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. I’m sure my heart would be racing in equal measure if I still had one.
My sister is alive.
Standing up, I begin to pace the room. I can’t handle sitting still now that I possess this news.
“How? Why? Was she taken by your father? Stolen and used to breed you?” I fire off the questions in rapid succession.
She would’ve told me if she was leaving of her own volition. Wouldn’t she?
Leviathan eases back against the couch and plays with apurple strand of Luna’s hair that falls against her shoulder. She gives him the side-eye but doesn’t comment otherwise.
“It’s simple really. She left for one reason and one reason only.” He shrugs lazily and meets my eyes when he says, “Love.”
I halt my steps and level the demon with a glare. “There is no way my sister, one of the top generals of the angelic army, willingly left Virtue to not only go to Iniquity but to be with a demon lover.”
Leviathan shrugs with indifference. “Believe me or don’t, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Uncle Valen.”
He tacks the last part on, I’m certain, to mess with me, and I growl in annoyance. He grins, having hit his mark.
“Uncle?” Luna hisses, having taken in the whole scene with confused eyes.
“Let me break it down for you, wifey.” Leviathan claps and rubs his hands together. “Valentine here has a sister named Safira. While on a mission, Safira met Amadeus, a demon general she was tasked to assassinate. Instead of carrying out her orders, they fell in love, and she snuck away to be with him. Not only did they live happily ever after, but they had a child. What was his name? Anyone?” He raises his own hand, and I glower at his antics. “That’s right, Leviathan.”
Luna gasps and her eyes ping-pong between us. “Valen’s sister is your mother?”
Leviathan looks at me once more and waits for my response.
I hesitate before responding, not wanting to speak it into existence. “Yes, she is.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” The demontsks and adjusts a silver ring that sits on his pinkie finger. “Imagine my surprise when I was not only summoned here to this one”—he nods at Luna, who blushes—“but to my uncle, of all people, who greeted me with a body slam. Skipped the meet and greet and went right for the jugular, literally.”
My lips turn downward. “I found Safira’s feather coated in demon blood. She had gone missing without a trace. What else was I supposed to think?” I counter. “It was a logical conclusion based on the facts I had. It made sense that she was killed by a demon, one of the most dangerous, emotionless, and ruthless creatures.”
Leviathan’s lip curls in disgust. “Emotionless? You’ve got it all wrong.” He stares out the window and seems to lose himself in a memory that has him shaking his head. “If anything, demons feeleverything. Angels are the ones who deserve the unfeeling title.” He advances toward me, and I stand my ground. “Cruel and self-righteous, angels are the epitome of the frigid stereotype you like to label us with.”
Memories cycle through my head of various angels I met and worked with throughout my life. Having essentially been a fighting machine for the higher-ups, I never thought too much about our kind being the aggressor. Yes, we physically fought others, but it was to better the state of the world, no?
“How can you prove this? Can I talk to Safira? Where is she?” I’m struggling to come to terms with what he’s saying—because if he’s being honest, then everything I know about being an angel is a lie. Was I fighting for the wrong side? Were we the aggressors?
My sister can set things straight if I can talk to her.
Leviathan snorts and strokes the back of the red-eyed chameleon that materializes on his forearm. “You can’t. Part of the deal when she decided to stay with my father was that she could never leave Iniquity.”
Our chests heave as we come down from our angry highs.
“She’s happy?” I whisper.
Leviathan tilts his head at me. “I’d like to think so.” He sits back down and crosses one long leg over the other. “I was their only child, and both of my parents spoiled me.”
A wistful expression floods his face, and the chameleon climbs up his sleeve to perch on his shoulder. The whole time, he holds a hand underneath the creature in case it slips, and I feel the cage around my heart thawing slightly. It’s hard to undo years of negative emotion, though.
“I’m sure she’ll scold me when I’m back home. She periodically checks in because she’s a worry wart.” Even though he sounds exasperated, there’s fondness in his tone.
It feels strange to hear him talk about my sister in that way. She showed vulnerability on occasion, but only in private. I knew her as a ruthless army general. Picturing her with a baby and a husband is difficult. I desperately wish I could talk to her and see with my own eyes that she’s okay.
