Chapter Fifteen
The funeral was lovely, if you could call it that. Why do people say things like that? The ceremony was beautiful. What makes a funeral ceremony beautiful? The flames that reached to the early morning sky as his body was incinerated? The way my mother fought back the tears so hard that I thought her midsection would cave in because she held herself so tight? Or was it the way my palms bled as my nails dug into my own flesh?
My anger at Samael far outweighed the sorrow that seeped through my skin. Knowing that my father had been murdered and that I now held half of a weapon that would end this brought a dichotomy of hatred and relief. The sword itself seemed to call to me to be manifested. I don’t know why. Maybe because I was pissed off and wanted to hurt something.
Not sure whether the sword would appear if I lost control I walked away and told my mother and Haines to stay with Aunt Rita, Adkiel and Ari-el. The sword was made from the Light of Heaven. Would it harm my mother and husband because they were demons, even though we’re on the Earthly Plane? We’re not going to find out.
As I walked through the heavily wooded area I would catch glimpses of people, angels, standing in the distance. I can only guess it was because Haines, my mother, my aunt, and I wore the protective satchels that kept the angels at bay. The only reason Ari-el and Adkiel could be so close to us was because of a spell that allowed them to be present. At the fucking funeral of my dead father.
Stalking through the woods, I could hear the occasional whisper of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Solace to your heart, Peace Bringer.’ My personal favorite was, ‘Peace upon you, Bringer of Death.’ Angels sure know how to make you feel special.
If they actually felt bad for me why don’t they band together and kill Samael? Imprison him? Do something to help. I can only imagine it’s because he’s killing demons and my father, the angel who decided that becoming a human was better.
When we came home from the funeral I crawled into bed with my mother. I used to do it when I was a child; crawl in to my parent’s bed and wait until I felt better. That’s not going to happen now. We both lay here in silence, drifting off and waking up to more silence.
Haines and Aunt Rita have left us so that we could find comfort in one another. I suppose auntie should be here with us. She has lost someone, too.
“Mom,” I whisper, wondering if her slow breaths means she’s asleep or just pretending.
She shifts a little closer to me and opens her eyes. They are red-rimmed and puffy. “Yes, Perrian.”
“Mom, I’m sorry. If—”
“Do not finish that sentence. I know where you’re going with this and it is not your fault. Never think that. Do you understand?”
We’re so close to one another that when I nod my head I bump her forehead with my own.
“Perrian,” she says, rubbing her hand through my wild hair and pushing it behind my ear. “I wonder why we’re considered demons.”
I shake my head and settle closer to her.
“Demons are of hell,” she says. “Succubae and incubi are born of humans and an angel. Granted we were created when Lilith was going through a particularly confusing time, but we are not of hell.” She laughs. “I take it back. She was made a demon long before she bore us. But at her core she was human.”
I never thought of it that way. Lilith technically was human, but by the time we were created she’d become something more. Something a little less human.
“Perrian, you are powerful not because you are evil, but because you are of the Line of Lilith and an angel. No matter what kinds of terrible names Samael calls you, you are not evil. You are not bad. I believe he’s afraid of you. Do you understand?”
I understand just fine.
“Mom, why did you and Dad decide to keep everything from me? Did you honestly think it would help? Or was it like the ‘sex’ conversation that parents don’t want to have with their kids?”
She shrugs. “By the time you were old enough we kept thinking that telling you later was better. And then later came and it didn’t seem like the right time. You were so powerful, and we thought upsetting you would… I don’t know. Your powers are tied with your emotions. We thought that if someone could first teach you…”
“—I wouldn’t go ape-shit on everyone? Sorry for the language.”
She laughs and then holds her breath. When she lets it out, it sounds shaky and labored. “I’m so sorry your father and I didn’t do this better. We should have told you sooner, no matter how uncomfortable it made us.” Her voice is almost a whisper.
Thank you. Finally, some admission to this madness. I’ve been so upset and confused that pointing the finger just made me feel better. But now that it’s out there, blaming someone just seems so pointless.
“Do you forgive me, Perrian?”
“Of course, Mom. I forgive you. I know I gave you crap about this, but I never held a grudge. Never. We’ll figure this out.”
She smiles at me, and I feel a tiny bit better.
My mother pulls my head to her chest and begins to stroke my hair. “The angels will be here soon. We can get this sorted and move on with our lives.”
I look over at the clock. They should be here in an hour.
“Mom?”
She hugs me and then starts rubbing my head again. “Yes, Perrian?”
“I’m a badass. I can pull the Light of Heaven out of my pocket. And once I get Hell’s Fire I am going to rip Samael a new one.”
****
My mother and I walk down the stairs hand-in-hand, laughing. Seems as though she thinks the sword is pretty freaking awesome. She’d love to see it, but neither of us want to see her burst in to flames.
She sees Aunt Rita and walks toward her. “Rita, I’m sorry Perrian and I have been locked upstairs all day. You’ve lost someone too, and we shouldn’t have acted as if you didn’t.”
Aunt Rita pulls my mom in for a hug. “Think nothing of it, Barbara. You were the one sleeping with him.”
I wince and close my eyes. “I don’t mean to be that guy, but please let’s not talk about this around me.”
They exchange a look and start laughing. It’s good to see my mom smile again. Aunt Rita never lost her smile. Even when the tears threatened to betray her she kept smiling.
It’s funny. I never paid much attention to my aunt before all of this happened. I would see her and she would make a comment about me being single for the rest of my life, and I would roll my eyes and ignore her. Why did she pretend?
“Aunt Rita?”
“Yes, dear?” She puts the tea pot on the stove and then reaches over to start the coffee maker.
Do angels drink coffee? Tea? “Why did you act as if you didn’t know what I was? As if you didn’t know why I was single?”
She laughs and begins making watercress sandwiches. “It was more a jab at your parents than at you, Perry. They were always around when I made those comments. Watercress?”
Disgusting “Eww. That’s grass. And not the good kind.” I reach in to the refrigerator and grab the lunch meat and cheese. “Thanks for trying to get them to spill the beans. I still can’t believe I didn’t know you were the Seer we came to see when I was a teenager.”
I begin rolling the lunch meat slices, setting them against one another so they won’t unravel. Busy work. Maybe that’s why she’s making this spread for the angels. Keeping busy takes your mind off of why they are actually coming.
Aunt Rita pulls out a box of toothpicks and slides them toward me. “I told you. It was a good cover. What would you have done if you’d known it was me? You would have pestered me, asking questions and I would have eventually caved. Besides, no one knew who I was. They still don’t.”
Good points. It doesn’t matter now. It’s all out on the table.
“Where’s my sweetie?” I ask, taking out the stovetop espresso maker to make azuquita; stuff that makes Colombian style coffee awesome. “And why are we making snacks?”
Aunt Rita takes the espresso maker from me and puts it back in the cabinet. “Angels like finger foods. And they need to be comforted.”
Okay. “Why do they like finger foods and why do they need to be comforted? And please don’t tell me they’re mourning my dad. They never bothered to stop in and say hello before he was killed, and I would hate to hate them for being assholes.” I look at my mother. “Sorry for the language.”
My aunt shrugs. “Lower level angels, though wise, are childlike and children like little things. And they are now on the outs with Samael. They chose to help you and if he gets his hands on them…let’s just say it won’t be pretty.”
They risked their safety to help me? And now that bag of douche wants to hurt them? Can he? “Can he kill them?”
“No,” Haines says, walking into the kitchen. “But he can make them suffer. He’s an archangel, and they are messenger angels. He’s much more powerful.”
Why the hell does everyone but me know this stuff? Maybe there’s a manual or book called All the Things Perry Doesn’t Know About her Life. Can I get a copy?
I reach for the espresso maker again and Aunt Rita slaps my hand.
“Auntie, do you have something against me making my coffee stuff?”
She turns me around and points on top of the microwave. “Your husband already made it for you. I’m amazed your poor teeth and gums couldn’t sense the amount of sugar you plan on ingesting already present in the room.” She scoffs and goes back to the snack making.
I turn to look at Haines, instantly turned on by his thoughtfulness.
“Please,” my mother says flatly, “for the love of all things holy don’t do that while I’m in the room.”
My lust must have ballooned out for a moment, and my mother’s words immediately put a stop to it. Going to have to work on that. No sex-demon powers activated while anyone is in the room.
Haines smiles and hands me the container, along with a coffee mug full of fresh coffee. He kisses my forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m good, thanks. Where’ve you been?” I mix a tiny bit of azuquita in my coffee and bring the cup to my nose. Smells like I’m going to be awake for a few hours.
Haines takes out the container of half-and-half and hands it to me. “Talking to my brother.”
It’s nice to see a routine develop between Haines and me. It’ll be interesting to see what this will turn into once my beef with Samael ends. And I’ve made it out alive. Which I am totally going to do.
“How are mommy and baby?” my mother asks as she pours herself a cup of coffee.
Haines sighs and grins. “They’re doing wonderfully. Molly is recovering nicely from the long labor and Riley is very loud.” He rubs his hand through his short hair and sits at the breakfast bar. “My brother wants to know if we’ve made any progress. They are both concerned.”
My snark wants to kick in but I take a deep breath and look at it from their perspective. People’s lives are on hold, waiting for me to get rid of Samael. We’ve just added three more people to the mix.
“Everyone, I’m sorry. I know it’s not my fault that Samael is insane, but nonetheless, I feel responsible.”
The three of them begin talking at the same time, telling me that I have no control; that it’s out of my hands. I put my hands up to quiet them. “I know, I know. I just had to say it. So there. It’s out.” I hear a faint humming and look toward the door. “The angels are here,” I say a little too quickly.
They look at one another and then back to me. I shrug and point to the back door. For a few moments there is only silence, and then a tap on the door heralds the throwing of pebbles.
Aunt Rita smiles. “How did you know? Did you hear it?”
I nod. “What was it? And why is this the first time I’m hearing it?”
She walks toward the door and opens it. “Angels can sense one another. You’re getting stronger.” She lowers the shields and beckons them inside. She tells them about me sensing their presence, and Adkiel grins like a fool.
He looks me up and down and then frowns. What the hell was that about?
“The vibration?” Ari-el asks.
This is a bit disturbing. “Yes. It was more like a hum.”
She waves it off and comes to stand beside me. “You are Peace Bringer. Your power is immeasurable. May I have one?” she asks, motioning toward the tiny sandwiches.
Aunt Rita pulls out a tray of mini-desserts. “Have as much of whatever you like. The both of you. Please.”
Adkiel and Ari-el light up like Christmas tree angels—ha!—and begin making little plates of everything. I smile and think of how innocent they truly seem to be. When they first came here and Ari-el was crispy-fied, they both seemed wide-eyed and nervous, as if they were telling some secret that would earn them a spanking from a parent.
I suppose it is kind of like that. Samael is the crappy big brother who wants to make them suffer simply because he can. These two are risking their safety to make things right for us.
“So,” I say, looking between Adkiel and Ari-el. “How does me becoming the Peace Bringer/Bringer of Death benefit you two? Or are you seriously doing this out of the kindness of your hearts?”
Adkiel shoves a mini-éclair into his mouth and chews slowly. He looks around and then starts paying way too much attention to the coaster rack. He’s stalling. Why do I get the feeling he doesn’t like me anymore? It almost hurts my feelings.
I clear my throat and look at Ari-el. She seems to mean more business than he does. “Spill it, girlie.”
She wrinkles her face and wipes her mouth with a white linen cloth. “You know my name is Ari-el. And we are going to help you fulfil the prophesy.” She pats Adkiel on his arm and smiles. “He’s afraid that you’ll get upset once you know why we’re doing this and what the outcome will be.”
Aunt Rita walks over and sits next to Adkiel. “I knew there was a reason I was sent to help Perry. I just didn’t know why. When the Father puts it in your mind that you’re to do something it’s really not a suggestion. So, what’s special about her? Not that you’re not special, Perry.”
Here we go. The history lesson is about to start and I’m more anxious than I thought I’d be. I’ve wanted to know what all this mess was about, and I’ve been afraid that it’ll turn out that I truly am a bad person.
Shifting in my chair, I look around the room and see that Haines has managed to come stand behind me. I look over my shoulder and meet his reassuring eyes.
Ari-el, always the gung-ho one, stands up. “In many sacred texts Samael is said to be the Angel of Death, and that is who he is. But he has been the reason of his downfall that has taken centuries to complete. He used to delegate how things would run among the Reaper Angels and their Messenger Angels, but his insanity has left us with no one to tell us what to do. In his role he was supposed to be neutral, being neither good nor evil. But he can’t perform his function anymore. And that’s where you come in, Perry.”
Holy shit, I know exactly where this is going. I stand up and go for the dessert trays, piling a tiny plate with mini-éclairs and cheesecakes. Comfort food. I’m going to need every bit of it.
“I told you she would get angry,” Adkiel says, whispering in Ari-el’s ear.
He blanches when I look at him. “Dude, I can hear you.”
He sinks back in the chair and shoves more food into his mouth.
Ari-el rolls her eyes and continues. “He’s an angel and is almost incapable of partiality. Samael has turned what he thought was good into his own twisted version of right and wrong. He committed a sin and that sin became flesh and bone; the birth of the sex demon. If he would have gone to Father and admitted he made a mistake this would be over with and he would no longer carry the burden. But he’s allowed it to eat away at him, and it has made him what he is now.
“But you, Perry, you are both good and evil. It lives within you making you exactly who you are. You are angel and demon. You are duality in its most natural form, and Samael knows that. He’s threatened by you. The ancient texts of Heaven say that he is supposed to bow-out as the Angel of Death and hand the Rite of Death over to you. Then he would take his place in Fifth Heaven and continue there forever.
“Since he has chosen not to step down you must make that choice for him. But he has become far too dangerous. You must use the key, your sword of light and dark, to lock him away and take your rightful place as the Angel of Death, bringing peace to those whose time is over on this plane, whether they be human or supernatural. Only you can wield the Sword of Duality. It can’t hurt you, for it is an extension of you. Even if someone were to manage to take it from you it would be useless in their hands. You have to stop him, take the Rite, and end this.”
Freak out? Say a prayer of thanks now that I know what my role is in everything? I don’t know what to do. I can’t be the Angel of Death. I have a bad attitude and like to be left alone. They have to be wrong.
“Bringer of Death,” Aunt Rita whispers. “Peace Bringer. My god, you are the Grim Reaper.”
Lies. They are lying to me. Grim Reaper my ass. I start laughing until my cheeks hurt and the tears run. This can’t be right. It sounds crazy.
I chew my top lip and worry my fingers as Aunt Rita looks at me like I’m the most horribly beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Her eyes are wide, full of fear and adoration. My mother has been silent this whole time, but her expression is loud and clear. She has the same look in her eyes as Aunt Rita.
But not Haines. I don’t know when he moved, but he’s made his way back to the trays and is making a little plate. He has that same proud look as when he first found out I was healing from being impaled. After he found out I was part angel and part demon.
“Haines,” Ari-el says. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering what your part is in Perry’s life?”
Confusion flashes in his eyes. “After learning that I don’t have to give Perrian my immortality what more can I do?”
The angels look at one another. Adkiel finally speaks up. “No, your interpretation is wrong. You will not give Perry your immortality and become human. You are her humanity. Her love for you is what will anchor her to this world. You are her tether that will keep her neutral.”
He’s right. I don’t know how, but I see it. I’ve had an extreme love-hate relationship with Haines from the moment we met. The angel in me rebels against our union and the demon in me adores him and wants to please him, recognizing his incubus as the mate of my succubus. And the love I now feel for him keeps that grip on humanity that the other halves know nothing about.
Instantly, I feel better when I look at Haines. I still want to cry and scream and ball up in a corner until I can completely process what’s going on. But I don’t have that luxury. We are running out of time.
Haines’ eyes are trained on me, and I feel stuck. He nods his head slightly, and I close my eyes. In my mind I can still see him looking at me, feel his eyes on me. That nod was permission for me to freak out or hold it together, or maybe do both at the same time, and not be ashamed of either decision. I decided earlier this evening that he would be my anchor, keeping me sane amidst all the chaos, and I do everything I can to hold on to that. Hold on to him. How in the hell did he and I get here?
I open my eyes to look at him and see a devious, vengeful grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “So,” I say, staring at Haines but talking to the angels. “How do I get the other part of this key so I can kick the dog-shit out of Samael, and lock his crazy ass away for good?”