“I feel you watching me, Lucy Dennings,” he said, not looking up.
“Well, gee, I only have about a million questions.”
Like what had I gotten myself into or if I were being epically duped.
Of course, you are, piped up that sneering voice. Silly Lucy, you think you’re special? Do you actually believe this strange man, who you let into your home, is a penitent demon trying to save his soul?
Casziel lifted his head, eyes narrowing. “Be silent, Deb.”
“Deb?”
“One of your demons,” Casziel said, going back to his food. “Nasty one, too.”
A wave of goosebumps washed over my arms and down my back. “One of my demons? How many do I have?”
“Just two.”
“Just?”
“Two is nothing. Had you more, I might not have found you.”
He found me.
Somehow, the idea didn’t scare me as much as I thought it should. Not as much as having two demons.
“The demon’s name is Deb?”
“And the other is K,” Casziel said. “Best to leave it at that. Demons love hearing their true names in the mouths of humans and will often come when called.”
“Jesus,” I shivered. “What do they do to me? I mean…why are they mine?”
“Not yours alone,” Casziel said. “They’re two of the most powerfu
l in our ranks. Deb is Pestilence. Like an infectious disease. She contaminates humans and keeps them from fulfilling their true potential. K, the Smiter, wracks them with fear if they try anyway.”
“That’s…horrible.”
Casziel shrugged. “That’s their job. Sin. Vice. Immorality. Laziness. What you call ‘deadly sins’ are our stocks-in-trade.”
“What is your stock-in-trade?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.
“Wrath.”
He said it flatly, with no pride or arrogance but no remorse either. My gaze traced his scars that peeked above the collar of the trench coat. The dream whispered of bloody stones and screams, then faded again.
“Have you ever…killed anyone?”
“In life, yes,” Casziel said. “I was a warrior.”
“You were human? With the feathered wings, I thought maybe you were a…fallen angel.”
It sounded just as crazy to say it out loud as it did in my mind.
He shook his head, his eyes darkening. “No, I had a life, once. A long time ago. I was a commander of armies. Now, my armies do not wield swords; we incite battle among humans. We fuel the rage in men’s hearts. The wrath.”
“You don’t sound very sad about it.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said and went back to his cereal, leaving me to glance over my shoulders for “Deb” and “K.”