Redemption (24 page)

“He was a what? Seriously?” she asked.

I knew this was even harder for her to swallow with her Wiccan background. I looked back at her and our eyes met. I knew my gaze was conflicted.

“My father?” I whispered.

Marcas pulled to a stop at a red light. He turned to me.

“Your father,” he confirmed. “It’s important you know that. It’s why my brother is so interested in you.”

Monroe unbuckled and moved up between us.

“Okay. Wait. It’s not that I’m slow or anything, but can you explain please. What does this make Dayton and Amber? And why is it important?”

The road around us was empty. The light turned green, but Marcas didn’t move the car.

“Dayton . . . and Amber were conceived from a union between a Sethian woman and a Watcher. People born from the line of Seth are considered Sons of God. This not only makes Dayton and her sister Nephilim, it makes them unique.” Marcas said, his voice even.

He’d paused before he’d said Amber’s name, but I didn’t have time to wonder why. I watched him thoughtfully. A few things in my life were beginning to make a little more sense but not many. Marcas' eyes caught mine.

“Nephilim, or a Naphil in the singular sense, are half Angel/half mortal children. In Biblical times, the Nephilim were aberrations. They were giants and blood-thirsty. Maybe even mad. When the great flood transpired, the Nephilim were wiped out. Never has there been a birth between an Angel and a Sethian descendant. They were always born to the daughters of Cain, the son of Adam and Eve who was cursed because he slew his brother Abel. You and your sister are the first Nephilim born from a Sethian mother. You were not mad, not blood thirsty and not aberrations."

 I sat there a moment, processing the information slowly. My mother was Sethian. My father was an Angel. It was a lot to take in. A thought struck me suddenly, and I bent over in pain. "
He's a watcher,”
Marcas had said. He'd used the present tense. No!
No!

“Can Angels die?” I asked Marcas, my head resting resolutely on my knees.

I couldn’t see his face and didn’t want to. The car was dead silent.

“They can’t."

A sob escaped my throat and I bit it back. Grief engulfed me. Then that meant . . .

“My father isn’t dead."

 I could feel Monroe’s hand move onto my shoulder.

“My God, Dayton!” she whispered.

I swallowed the anger that suddenly engulfed me and sat up.

“My mother?” I asked Marcas resolutely.

He didn’t answer. I reached out and grabbed his leather jacket. My fingers dug into the material.

“MY MOTHER?” I pleaded.

 He looked down at my hand before looking at my face. I didn’t give a damn if I was leaving marks on the expensive leather.

“She is dead."

Everything drained out of me. I let go of his jacket. A sudden honk behind us made me jump, and Marcas glanced in the rearview mirror before turning to drive under the light. I didn’t know what to feel. My whole body was fighting an internal battle.

“Where is he?” I asked Marcas so silently I wasn’t sure he’d hear. I didn’t have to explain who "he" was.

“He’s been ordered not to come near you or your sister. It is forbidden that Angels lay with mortal women. He was lucky he got the time with you that he did,” Marcas said.

Monroe still sat up between us, her hand still on my shoulder. It tightened.
He's alive!
My father was alive. He was an Angel.
And he left us
. My heart felt like it was bleeding. Why? He'd obviously forsaken the rules for my mother. Why didn't he forsake them for me now when I needed him? Was I not good enough?

"Day—" Monroe said gently.

I ignored her. And my mother? Dead. How? If my father was alive, then what really happened to my mother? I wanted to ask, but I couldn't. I
wasn’t
going to ask. Not now. I just couldn't! I wanted my father. I wanted him to tell me why this was happening. I wanted him to make it all go away. Why couldn't he? I swallowed hard to keep the tears at bay. Monroe suddenly dropped her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked angrily.

I looked up, my face burning with the need to cry. The Abbey sat in front of us. Marcas put the car in park.

“I’m coming to see my brother,” he said.

“What the hell?” Monroe yelled. “It’s not safe here. Did you bring her here to give her to Damon?”

“I came for my own explanations,” he answered, his gaze looking over us both.

 I just felt cold. I wasn’t sure I cared what happened to me anymore.

“You asshole!” Monroe spat as we exited the car.

“I’ve been called worse,” Marcas said as he waited for me to walk in front of him.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure I didn’t try and run.  He stayed close behind me. Monroe walked on my right. I tried to feel angry, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t angry; I was resolved.

“Who are you?” I asked Marcas again as we walked through the Abbey’s door. He moved in closer at my back.

“I am the son of Cain and the Demon Lilith," he said quietly.

I almost stopped walking then but his hand found the small of my back and the pressure kept me moving. The son of Cain?

“Dayton, no!” a voice yelled suddenly from our left, and I turned to see my sister Amber. She looked distraught.

“I told you not to come!” she cried out desperately.

She started to move toward me until she caught sight of Marcas. Her expression changed from distraught to placid. Her gaze moved over the three of us before landing on Marcas again.

“So that’s that then,” she said, her voice defeated.

I reached out and touched her, my fingers curling into the plain blue t-shirt she wore tucked into a pair of blue jeans. She looked me in the eye.

"Did you know?" I asked her quietly.

Amber didn't answer and my fingers dug desperately into the material. I heard it rip slightly, and I let go in surprise. Amber's eyes grew round.

"Did you know?" I asked again, pointedly ignoring what I'd done to her clothes.

Amber looked down at the tear in her shirt before glancing back at me. She nodded. A sob escaped me, and I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. She had known about our parents, had known about the Demons. I wanted to yell at her, and I would have said more, but Marcas prodded me slightly in the back. I yelped, and Amber looked up quickly.

“Where is my brother?” Marcas asked.

Amber's gaze moved back to mine.

“I’ll take you to him,” she replied, her answer directed at Marcas, her pity reserved for me. I hated pity.

Chapter 20

The curse is a secure one. It is futile to think there may be a way to reverse it. Damon isn’t just asking for war. He is going to guarantee it.

~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.