“No, I’m not human,” the black man continues, like he’s not holding someone by the neck of their hoodie. I cover my mouth, gasping with the rest of the crowd. Is he joking? He can’t be serious!
He releases the young man and carries on. “No, I won’t kill you, though I cannot say the same for most of the occupants of this realm. And my name is Maalik. But you can call me ‘yes, sir’,” he finishes with a smirk.
Where have these madmen brought us? Why us and why here? I see the same questions reflected on the faces of the people around me, and I find myself wishing it had been Thomas or my parents who sent Corson after me. They’re insane, but these monsters make them seem only slightly dysfunctional.
“You are here,” Maalik continues, “as a last attempt to save your pathetic, sin-riddled world from… well, yourselves. You see, with how humans are multiplying like rabbits in your mortal realm, so does sin. And where do sinners go?”
He’s looking at his audience like he wants us to provide an answer. After a moment of silence, another young man finally asks, “To Hell?”
Maalik nods. “To Hell. Which is now bursting at the seams like your Thanksgiving turkeys.”
Are we really in Hell? I always thought it was a religious construct, something fanatics threatened you with when you didn’t conform to their made-up set of rules.
“Why are we here?” a woman asks, and a few of us nod in approval. Finally, someone’s asking the important questions.
Maalik seems thrilled at the question. “Why, to cull the ranks, of course.”
“How are we meant to do something you can’t?” the tall, auburn-haired woman who entered with him asks.
“Excellent question.” Maalik grins at her. “While you would not have noticed in the mortal realm, you have Celestial blood in your veins. Meaning you can, when properly trained, take on these manifestations of the sin your kind begot.”
Celestial blood? We’re… angels?
Oblivious or uncaring that he just rocked the foundations of our worlds, Maalik continues. “Your mommies or daddies or more likely great-grandparents had demonic or angelic blood.”
Not just angels but demons too? I would know it if I had evil inside me… right?
While Maalik talks to the auburn-haired woman about her heritage and various combinations of what he calls Elioud, I find myself backing away toward a support pillar. I can’t breathe. My back hits the cold stone, and I slide down until my ass is on the ground.
“What are you?” I hear the woman ask. “Why aren’t you taking care of this threat from your realm, if it’s out of control?”
“We are the Fallen,” a gentler male voice answers her. “We fell from grace but repented and did not give in to evil. We are free to walk among Purgatory and Hell, and even the mortal realm, but we are denied Elysium. And there are not enough of us to corral the manifestations made from corrupt human souls. They are breaching into the human realm. The archdemons and demon lords do not much care for the mortal world.”
Archdemons, demon lords, fallen angels… I lean forward, lowering my head between my knees. I think I’m going to be sick.
“We will teach you to fight the manifestations and also the demonic creatures you will encounter while carrying out your duty,” Maalik says, his tone brooking no argument. “You will be given quarters, train, and live here. This is your final destination, after all. There is no Heaven for Nephilim, nor for Cambion or other combinations of Elioud, of course.”
Me, fight?Ridicule.I couldn’t fight off one pathetic, abusive man, and they expect me to fight… demons?
Someone walks to my side.
“I’ll show you to your room in the Cambion wing. Others with demon blood will reside there with you.”
I look up at Corson, the red aurora casting a frightening backdrop behind his imposing form.
“How can I be a demon?” I ask him, my voice breaking on the last word. “Back in France, I was a nurse in a… how do you say it…unité de soins intensifs néonataux?Intensive care for babies? In America, I worked as an au pair, taking care of an adorable little boy. I’m not evil.”
Corson crouches down to my level. “Having a few drops of demon blood doesn’t make you evil, Simone. Just like having angelic blood doesn’t make someone inherently good.”
“Then why does this feel like a punishment?”
He doesn’t answer, though his jaw is clenched tight, his mouth set in tense lines.
My eyes fill up with tears, blurring my vision. “What am I being punished for?”
3
SIMONE
