“Chaos isn’t beauty.” Apollo’s voices comes out in a grunt. I don’t need to turn around to know he’s frowning. “Chaos is pain, and it only births pain.”
“Chaos is merely randomness, is what Trevor would say,” Alicia says, her voice closer. “It’s not good or evil. Nothing is born good or evil. Things just happen.”
“You think a creature like the Collector isn’t evil?” Apollo grunts. I turn around and shoot him a look I hope says ‘chill out’. We don’t want to pick fights with our hosts. Not so soon, at least. I could use another couple of days resting.
“The Collector wasn’t born evil.” Giulia’s mouth moves, but it’s so odd to hear her voice now. It’s changed, like it’s coming from a far away place and I have to strain my ears to hear her. “He’s an angel. Angelic and demonic beings are always angelic and demonic. They never change, whatever the thread. I think what’s beyond the Veil is unchangeable.”
My stomach flips. “An angel?” It’s so ridiculous when I say it out loud. There can’t be angels. I was taught to believe in a god, but I can’t quite accept the concept of someone who knows everything that happens and doesn’t give a shit about it.
I had a shitty childhood, but at least no one raped me. Other orphans, many of them, weren’t so lucky.
Giulia nods. “The Collector wanted more. He was ambitious. Then,” she raises a hand, her fingers moving to the wind, “he fell.” Her hand drops, and she looks up into the woods. “Even after he fell, he was too ambitious. He wanted more than the Devil could give. So he left.” She uses two of her fingers to imitate a walking figure, climbing up a staircase. “And here is he now. In our place. Collecting pretty things. Pretty creatures.”
I swallow hard. Is everyone hearing the beating of my heart? “Angels are real.”
“Yes.”
Everyone’s quiet now. Not a sound, but the rustling of leaves. I whirl around to find Don’s gaze. “Did you know?” I ask, and he just nods.
“Are we really believing that story?” Apollo says, lifting his upper lip. “There’s no such thing as...”
“Angels in the angelic realm,” Giulia says, pointing up. “Demons in the Abyss. The Devil guards the dead in the Underworld.”
I blink, confusion makes my head turn. “I thought he was in hell?”
“Hell is a Nordic concept,” says Don. “Twisted by Christianism.”
“But there are angels. And demons, and a Devil.”
“The story is the same.” Don lifts the corners of his lips into a soft, understanding smile. I can almost hear him saying he also finds that whole thing quite confusing, too. “Some parts got mixed up, though.”
Tristan shifts in place, and my attention goes to him. His wide eyes denounce him as much more confused than I feel. “The Collector can’t be an angel,” he says. “He’s bad. And he has no wings.”
“He doesn’t show them.” Giulia turns to us, propping her hips to the rail and crossing her arms over her chest. “He likes pretty things, and the wings of a fallen aren’t exactly pretty.”
“His rotten nature makes sense,” I try, reaching out for Tristan’s hand. “Since he fell from heaven. I mean,” and this time I force a smile on my lips, “he was so bad not even the Devil managed to deal with him.”
That gets me a smile. Tristan nods, his other hand holding Oreo in place. Ren seems to absorb it all just fine, his eyebrows just slightly puckered. Apollo, on the other hand, crosses his arms over his chest, ready to argue. I can’t complain. He deals with facts, and that part of him is so important to me. How skeptic he can be, how fully dedicated to the truth.
Before he opens his mouth, Giulia whirls around to face me, her eyebrows rising in her forehead. She looks like she’s back with us, though I can’t tell what changed. “There’s something about you I haven’t noticed. What do you remember of your childhood?”
I blink twice. “Mm...”
“Your parents. Do you remember them? Or maybe what happened before you were taken to the orphanage?”
How does she know I lived in an orphanage? “Not much. Nothing, actually,” I reply in a voice that breaks. This is a fragile subject. My men and I met the woman who I thought was my mother. A fake. She only told me my parents died, but everything else happened so fast I haven’t digested the whole thing.
Giulia’s lips twist in understanding. “Your memories. They are sealed.”
My jaw drops. “How can you tell?” This is something I learned to live with, and almost never miss. There are no memories before my Not-Mother took me to the orphanage. Nothing of my previous life, my parents, my childhood. At first I thought it was just the way things worked, but after hearing so many people with memories, even flimsy ones, of their younger years and learning my powers were sealed...
Giulia grins. “Let me help you with that.” And she touches my forehead with a forefinger.
My left shoulder blade burns. Burns like a fire poker has been drilled into my skin and I convulse, trying to jerk away from the pain. It’s useless as I open my mouth to scream, the sound muffling and disappearing with the pain. My knees give in, and I see nothing, nothing but the warm, soft embrace of darkness. Shadows have always been my friend, and I let them take me in.
When I open my eyes again, everything has changed.
CHAPTER12