Page 29 of Try As I Smite
Alasdair’s chair was the only one in the room that remained empty.
Those in the room were dressed up in various levels of festive clothing. For their own Christmas Eve celebrations? Was this the present? The group didn’t seem to be doing much, or perhaps they were waiting. They almost acted unconcerned, if anything. Chatting to one another softly, casually.
“What is this?” Alasdair asked.
Delilah reached for her powers, but nothing came. They were still in the visions. “I think we’re waiting for whatever happens next.”
But in the past or present?
“In that case…” A gasp escaped her as Alasdair grabbed her by the arm, though his grip remained surprisingly gentle, given the urgency in every line of his shoulders, and swung her around to face him. “I’m sure we don’t have long, but I need answers. Explain. Now.”
She stared into hard eyes of the same man who, only minutes ago by way of normal time, had just had his mouth on her body, gifting her with pleasure beyond pleasure. He glowered at her, expression mostly closed, only she’d swear confusion lingered in his gaze.
Don’t give up on me yet, she silently begged him.
She cleared her throat. “My parents’ affair was forbidden. Angels and demons are sworn enemies, opposite sides of the biggest political issue in existence.”
The man before her said nothing, just waited.
“Demons were once angels. According to human belief, Lucifer apparently became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power, and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone. The sin that corrupted Lucifer was self-generated pride.”
“I’ve heard the story. Are you saying human history got it wrong?”
She shrugged. “According to my mother, Lucifer disagreed with God about humanity. In humans, he saw such capacity for evil—for selfishness, entitlement, pride, and violence—that he didn’t understand how God could want to forgive them over and over. Bless them. Meanwhile, angels, also his creation, were nothing but tools to serve God’s pets. Not creatures deserving of blessings or forgiveness in their own right.”
“What does this have to do with you or what you are?” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Please tell me Lucifer isn’t your father.”
“No. And as for why I’m telling you…you’ll see why this is important.”
He paused, searching her gaze, then waved her to continue, though she could tell he was at the end of his tether.
“Lucifer chose to fall to escape. He wanted nothing to do with humanity anymore. Other angels followed him for various reasons of their own. Demons—true demons, who were once angels—aren’t evil, necessarily. They’re just…apart.”
Alasdair crossed his arms. “You can’t tell me that thing that took over my father wasn’t evil. Or the one that just attacked us.”
“Am I evil?” She tossed the words between them. And held her breath, because his answer, right this second, was…important.
Beyond a slight flexing in his arms, he chose not to respond, and disappointment tunneled a pit in her gut.
She took a breath and kept going. “To punish Lucifer, God sends all the damned human souls to join him in hell, most for punishment, but some becoming lower-level demons themselves. Not as powerful. Lucifer and the other angels who fell with him decided to turn those souls against humanity. That’s what we’ve encountered so far.”
“That thing we just left behind was a lower-level demon?”
She shook her head. “Belial is a sentinel. The most powerful of the lower-level demons. They must want you badly.”
His jaw tightened at that. “And your mother? What’s her story?”
“She was once an angel. Semhazah was the leader of the Watchers, a group of angels who spent much time on earth among humans, sometimes observing, sometimes interacting. She made the mistake of agreeing with Lucifer about human nature and fell with him, leaving my father—her greatest love—behind. She doesn’t agree with Lucifer’s plan, his use of evil souls, and so she…left. Left Lucifer. Left the hells. She lives apart. Still away from my father, but whenever he was assigned to earth, he would visit her.”
She knew her smile reflected the sadness inside her because Alasdair shifted as though uncomfortable.
“Eventually, I was conceived.”
“Fuck me,” Alasdair muttered.
But did he believe her?
“As punishment after my birth, my mother was returned to the deepest of the hells. It took her many millennia to claw her way out again, and yet, he waited. All that time. So did I. Having me was the worst thing that could have happened to them. I’m…” She tilted her head, trying to hide her feelings now. “An abomination.”
