~Bezaliel~
Amber led us to the chapel. It was the last place I expected a Demon to be, but there he was, Damon and a room full of people. Marcas kept me in front of him as we moved down the main aisle of the church. I vaguely heard Amber behind us asking Monroe to stay silent. It was important that she remain vague. That scared me. What were we headed into? Marcas moved confidently. It didn’t take long before people took notice. The room fell silent.
“What were you thinking, brother?” Marcas asked loudly.
I cowered. The whole room was full of sect members, men and women, Sisters and Brothers, and even teenagers I went to school with. And in the midst of them all stood Damon. He looked like Marcas. Or maybe it was the other way around. But, either way, it was obvious to all gathered that the two Demons were twins. Damon’s eyes fell on me a moment, and I shivered. It wasn’t because his gaze was cold. No, it was because it was warm, intent . . .obsessed even. It made me recall the last time we’d met. Marcas moved in front of me and the connection broke.
“You, of all people, are aware of my intent, Marcas,” Damon answered quietly, his voice full of an assurance no one else seemed to be feeling. The whole room was full of goosebumps, shuffling feet, and fidgeting arms. Marcas took a step forward.
“You made a mistake, brother,” Marcas hissed.
I saw Damon frown. Failure, as far as I could tell, was NOT a part of Damon’s vocabulary.
“I made no such thing,” Damon argued. “She’s from a line of Seth and the Watchers. She will bring us redemption. She will bring her people redemption.”
"You lied to them," Marcas' voice said suddenly in my head, and my eyes went wide.
"I had to, brother," Damon's voice replied. What was this? I looked around the room, but no one else seemed to hear their voices. All eyes were on the twins.
“She will be the end of us all,” Marcas said aloud.
I looked between the two men, both so young and so old, and I felt hatred. I wasn’t anything more than a girl. They were making me much more than that and not giving me a choice.
“Damon has a point,” my aunt spoke up suddenly. “The Watchers fell because they lay with the daughters of Cain. From them were born the Nephilim: aberrations, giants, madmen”
My aunt moved to the front of the room. I felt cold looking at her. Maybe it was because she agreed with Damon. Maybe it was because she was so willing to use me to save herself. Either way, she didn’t seem to notice. She waved a hand to encompass the room.
“And the line of Seth became contaminated because it did the same. Sons of Seth lay with daughters of Cain and we became impure. But then, by some miracle, maybe even destiny, two people came together. A Watcher and a pure woman, untouched by the blood of Cain, of the Seth line bore two children, and the result was clear. They were NOT aberrations or giants or mad as the Nephilim born of the line of Cain were. Never before have the Nephilim not been aberrations. No one thought it possible,” Aunt Kyra said as she came to stand at Damon’s right side. The sight was unnatural—a Sethian leader and a Demon in league. The thought was terrifying.
"Two children?" Marcas asked Damon in my head.
Damon didn't reply. Marcas stared up at my aunt.
“It doesn’t make them saviors,” Marcas pointed out.
I couldn’t help but nod. The man might be a Demon, but I was inclined to agree with him. Even if I had no idea what I was agreeing to.
“Doesn’t it?” Damon asked.
His eyes raked over me again, and I fought not to shiver. His interest was definitely obsessive. Marcas moved closer.
“If a Watcher and a Sethian descendant bore two pure children, what would happen, brother, if a Demon son of Cain were to mate with a Naphil daughter of Seth?” Damon asked.
I froze. Do what? Mate? Jesus! Was he serious? Was he trying to say mixing the blood would cancel out one of the genes, hopefully the cursed one? I found myself moving closer to Marcas. His brother was nuts with a capital N.
“It would condemn us all,” Marcas answered.
I shivered. Marcas looked toward my aunt. She stood and met his gaze defiantly.
“What has he been telling you?” Marcas asked.
She shifted then, but barely. Her gaze moved briefly between the brothers before she stared once more at Marcas.
"Don't go there, brother. You think they'd believe you when I have possession of their leader?" Damon warned inside my skull.
I shook my head. Was I hearing things or were they really talking? Possession? Marcas didn't answer his brother.
“You would sacrifice your own family to redeem a Demon?” Marcas asked my aunt. Kyra stiffened.
“It isn’t a sacrifice. It’s her duty. We could shift the balance back to the side of good. If one Naphil daughter of Seth were to marry a pure male Seth descendant and the other a cursed line, it could redeem us all. It would restore the balance. It wouldn’t rid the world of Demons, but it would rid the world of your cursed line,” Kyra said passionately. She looked at me.
"Don't you see that?" she asked me.
I looked away. Tears burned the back of my eyes. This was my aunt. This was my mother's sister. My father was alive, my mother was dead, and my aunt was giving me to a Demon. My heart tore. I looked around the room, my gaze finally landing on my sister. Amber’s head hung, her eyes staring resolutely at the floor. Marcas shook his head and moved closer still. I was in front of him now. I looked up at his chin. His face was creased with anger.
“He has you brainwashed. Do you all seriously believe mixing our blood would erase everything? Fix it all? It’s a curse that can’t be undone. Do you believe our line would let it happen without a fight? There are many of us who don’t want change,” Marcas said to the room.
No one answered. Kyra took a step down from the dais.
“There’s never a guarantee with anything. But it’s worth a try. It would be a huge step in our war against all of your kind. Do you realize how many Demons this would destroy? It could make your line extinct!” Kyra said hotly.
Marcas laughed. “And you think Damon is giving you the tools to accomplish this? Oh, you’re definitely asking for a war. And it won’t just be Demon lives lost."
His eyes moved to encompass the whole room.
“And if it didn’t work? What would you do with the child?” Marcas asked.
No one answered. They didn’t have to. Nausea engulfed me. But while I felt weak with the thought of someone sacrificing an infant, it only seemed to fan Marcas’ flame.
“You would destroy what you are so willing to create? Like a failed science project!” Marcas cried out before looking once more at my aunt.
“And why Dayton then? Why was she chosen to redeem the sons of Cain?” Marcas asked.
I looked up then, both wanting to know and dreading the answer. I felt more than saw Monroe take a step forward. She was having a hard time not interfering. I shook my head, knowing she would see it. I felt broken, but I was strong enough for this. Kyra looked at me before averting her gaze to Amber. And it was the way her gaze took Amber in that brought realization. It washed over me with a heat that burned my soul.
“I’m not good enough for the Sethian line,” I whispered. The truth pierced me in the gut. My cursing, my attitude maybe, my lack of humbleness. . .
“I was never good enough."
I wasn’t good enough because I was never willing to give up who I was as a person for a cause I wasn’t sure I believed in. Marcas glanced at my aunt. I knew he saw what I saw. I knew he knew what I knew. But what no one knew was the way my whole body burned with the shame I felt at being considered lesser. I wonder if my aunt knew I had always had the same faith as my sister. I had just always believed that God loved us for who we were, not for what we could do. Amber looked up then, and I saw tears on her cheeks. I didn’t blame her. She wasn’t at fault.
“I see,” Marcas said loudly. “I think I see.”
He stared at
my aunt.
"You should have considered your choices better," he said as he glanced between my sister and me. There was something in his eyes I couldn't read.
"He's misled you," Marcas said. His gaze moved back to Damon.
“I’m leaving, brother. And the girl leaves with me,” Marcas growled as I raised a brow in his general direction. I had agreed to go with him, but he didn’t have to sound all "me man, this be my woman" about it.
Damon moved forward a step, and I fell backward. I wasn’t crazy about either man, but Marcas was definitely saner. Marcas’ hand found my arm, and he pulled me into him. My body was suddenly flush with his and my head came quite a few inches below his chin. I shuddered. The movement felt too intimate for me, but I didn’t move. Something told me it was important not to.
“Where do you expect to go, Marcas?” Damon asked coolly. He wasn’t moving any closer.
I could feel heat and the quivering restraint of anger moving through Marcas’ muscles and my heart rate sped up. If he noticed, he didn’t react.
“To fix what you messed up,” Marcas answered.
Damon’s eyes shifted away from Marcas long enough to gaze a moment at my face. I fought not to look away.
“You are the elder by minutes, Marcas. It needs to be your blood, but if you won’t finish what we started, I will. You will bring her back to me,” Damon ordered. I stiffened.
“I don’t belong to you, you imbecile!” I said vehemently. It might have been so much more effective if I wasn’t hugged up to Marcas’ chest, but I was tired of the ‘Barbarian He Man’ routine.
Marcas’ arm tightened on me in warning, and I was very tempted to hit him. I was no one’s puppet. Damon only laughed.
“You will bring her back to me,” Damon repeated, his voice full of glee. Had I entertained him?
“If the damage can be undone, brother, she is yours,” Marcas replied.
I heard Monroe’s cry from behind me, and my heart skipped a beat. I was what? The bastard! I turned toward him and tried pushing away, but his arm was like iron so I settled for elbowing him in the ribs.
“Damn you!” I growled against his chest, so low I wasn’t even sure he heard, but it made me feel better and that was the point.
Damon had moved toward us, and I suddenly felt his warm breath on the back of my neck. It took all the fight out of me. Marcas didn’t move.
“Then go, Marcas. But once the bond is broken, I will know it. And I will bind her to me,” he warned. I felt more than saw his gaze move to my back.
“You will return to me, love. Don’t doubt that,” Damon said hoarsely. I fought not to turn around and glare.
“I’m all aflutter,” I said instead.
Marcas shifted slightly, and I wondered briefly if I had amused him. Damon remained quiet. As long as I had insulted him, I was happy. Marcas let go of me long enough to move around me. He was at my back now and the door was in front of me.
“Move, Blainey,” he whispered.
I didn’t argue. I walked. Monroe fell in behind us.
"He's just going to let us go?" I whispered fearfully. Marcas pushed me.
"For now," he said.
I stumbled forward. Monroe ran to catch up. We were silent only until the door closed behind us. I glanced at Monroe.
“What the hell was that?” she and I asked Marcas simultaneously.
I was tempted to cry "jinx" but I didn’t want to look like I belonged in elementary school. Marcas kept poking me in the back, and I kept moving. I glanced at Monroe again.
"Why isn't Damon coming after us?" Monroe asked, her voice low. We shared the same fear.
"He will," Marcas said cryptically. I stopped walking.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
Marcas poked me again, and I grunted before moving.
"Leave it be. My brother is the least of our concerns. When the time comes, I'll deal with Damon," Marcas ordered gruffly.
I didn't have to look at Monroe this time to know she felt as frustrated as I did, but there was nothing we could do. The least of our concerns? What could be worse? I felt Marcas jab me again.
“Could you quit with the pin cushion act?” I asked Marcas sulkily.
If he poked me one more time I’d scream! He poked me. I growled. Monroe took me by the hand and we walked as fast as we could to put some distance between us and the Demon. The car actually looked welcoming. We all climbed in. I turned on Marcas.
“What was that?” I asked, a little more calmly this time.
Marcas glanced behind him before starting the car and backing out of the drive.
“That was me trying to figure out how to get rid of you."
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, that’s comforting. At least one of you doesn’t want to impregnate me.'
Monroe snorted from the back seat. Marcas was silent.
"And the voices in my head?" I whispered. "I heard—"
"Nothing. You heard nothing, Blainey," Marcas said clearly.
I looked away. Maybe it was best I didn't know.
“That was rather enlightening,” Monroe muttered.
I shuddered as I thought back on the chapel. This wasn’t Rosemary’s Baby. I was not about to carry any Demon’s child for any reason good or bad. Heck, I still had yet to make it past first base with a guy. Not because I was some goody two shoes. I was just picky. And my first time was so not going to be because a Demon claimed he had "bonded" with me.
“Where are we going?” I asked Marcas quietly. I was suddenly a little wary of going anywhere with him. Marcas turned the car toward town.
“We’re going to work on getting unbound,” he answered.
I lifted a brow. Well, that didn’t sound so bad.
“And how are we supposed to do that?” I asked. He looked at me then.
“We look for the impossible and do it without getting ourselves killed."
I glanced back at Monroe.
“Oh ok . . . well then.”
Chapter 21
Creatures were created to protect humankind both from themselves and from the war they are unaware is raging around them. These creatures are guardians. They are born and raised to know their role. It is ingrained in their nature. They are gargoyles.