Chapter 3
SIMONE
Ispend the next few days in the room Corson took me to, lying in bed, thinking. Wondering if the Beauregards are worried. Maybe they think my past caught up to me. And in a way, it did, but it’s not the recent past—instead, it’s some kind of bloodline history.
Is this why my family has people claiming to be talking with demons? Was it not a mass delusion, but actually the truth? Though they certainly never told me we’re related. Just the thought makes me sick. Demons were always portrayed as vile, disgusting creatures, without scruples or morals.
The first day, Corson comes to tell me that food is being served in the communal dining area. The second day, he brings it to me. When it goes untouched, he sends in Daniel—the fallen angel with the gentle voice.
If someone asked me what an angel looks like, I would probably describe Daniel. He’s fit, but lean, blonde, blue-eyed. He looks good, kind. A tiny part of me—a part that isn’t numb with shock—is curious why he’s here in Purgatory. I can’t imagine he did something evil. Maybe he fell in love?
“I’ve been told you haven’t eaten since you got here,” he says, sitting on the chair by my bed. The room I’m in is pretty bare, but it has the necessities—and the chair he’s sitting on doesn’t look comfortable.
“No,” I answer simply, not bothering to sit up. I do let my head loll in his direction, though. Guess finding out you are part demon doesn’t strip you of all manners. “Do I even still need to eat?”
Daniel doesn’t seem bothered by my snarky question. He just keeps smiling that serene little smile.
“You’re still mortal, Simone. Still require food, water.” He nods in the direction of the bathroom. “To relieve yourself.”
“Just how long have you been planning this?” I ask, exasperated. “Obviously long enough to build us all rooms.”
“It has been a while,” Daniel concedes. “Though Abaddon has stood here for millennia.”
“So, what’s the plan? You throw us at your problems?” I drawl, tapping my fingers over my empty stomach, which chooses that moment to growl.
“What is yours?” he counters, nodding at me. “To starve yourself to death?”
I purse my lips. “It might be a better way to die.”
Daniel leans back, making the chair creak. “I have a suggestion,” he begins. “What if, instead of dying, you learn to fight and take charge of your destiny?”
I snort. That’s hilarious. “Take charge of my destiny while being your prisoner?”
“What if you didn’t have to be? What if you chose to stay, to protect the ones you love?”
Sighing, I roll, turning my back on him. “There is no one to protect.”
Daniel is quiet for a moment. “Not even Henry?”
This time I do sit up. “Don’t mention him,” I seethe, pointing a finger at his perfect angelic face. “You took me away from him.”
Daniel raises a blonde eyebrow. “So you were going to return to France?”
“H-how,” I stammer, my hands clenching into fists. “How do you know about that?”
“We have been observing you for a long time, Simone,” he says simply.
“Why me?” I ask, despair leaking into my voice. “I’m nothing, I’m nobody.”
“You’re a survivor,” he replies, his voice low and earnest.
The word choice gives me pause. Hadn’t I been lamenting that I’m not a survivor? Now this powerful being calls me one, and it does something to repair a wound that’s been aching for years.
I sigh, deflating again. “If you know so much about me, then you also know that I’m a failure.”
Daniel shakes his head. “You’re not a failure, Simone. You just haven’t discovered your true purpose. Until now.” His gaze is steady, bracing me like a physical thing. “It’s time to achieve the potential that was always inside you.”
“I see why they sent you,” I murmur. “You’re the devil’s advocate.”
Daniel smiles, and the act makes him even more beautiful. “Far from it. But stay here long enough, and you might meet him.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “The devil or his advocate.”
“Both?”
I shudder even as a little hysterical giggle escapes my mouth.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I guess I could start by eating something.”
“Wise decision. I think broth would be prudent given your state.”
A bowl of clear soup appears on my nightstand, spoon and everything, and I yelp, jumping out of bed. I immediately have to sit back down, dizzy from hunger and pressure change.
“How the hell did you do that?” I screech.
Daniel leans back, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Stay here long enough, and I’ll show you,” he says, mirroring his earlier statement.
“I-I could do that?” I ask, dumbfounded.
He nods, and I don’t see any deceit in his pale eyes. “It is highly likely. It may take decades or even centuries—”
“Centuries?” I interrupt, taken aback. “I’m going to live for centuries?”
Daniel blinks. “Ah, did no one explain things to you?”
“I heard some of… Maalik’s speech the day Corson brought me here. It wasn’t heavy on the positives. If you could even call it a positive. What’s the point in living for a long time if you do it suffering?”
“You are wise beyond your years,” Daniel says with an odd smile. “Most young humans would rejoice at the prospect of virtual immortality.”
“Most humans have had a kinder life,” I mumble, finally reaching for the soup and finding it at the perfect temperature. I ignore the spoon and bring the bowl to my lips.
“Slowly,” Daniel warns. “We could do some porridge if this goes down well.”
“Tastes so good,” I mumble between sips, making the angel chuckle.
“I haven’t been accused of cooking well in centuries until you Elioud showed up.” At my questioning look, he continues, “We don’t need to eat. Some of us do, those that spent years in demonic courts, especially.”
I put the empty bowl down and sigh. “I have so much to learn, I guess.”
“And you will. All of you will.” He stands up and offers me his hand. “Allow me to show you your new home. If you want, you can talk to some of the Elioud. Perhaps a few of them will be your teammates for centuries to come.”
“How about that porridge first?” I ask, trying to smile at him. He’s just so disarming, I can’t be mad at him. Maybe I’ll channel that anger into Corson. Though he was only following orders, wasn’t he?
“Tell me about who decided to bring us here,” I order as Daniel hands me another bowl that’s magically full of food. I take the spoon this time, mixing the honey into the oats.
Daniel clears his throat and sits again, seemingly getting ready to launch into a tale.
“About five thousand years ago, the war between Heaven and Hell, one that was believed to be an eternal conflict, finally came to a tentative truce. A council of angels and demons was formed.”
“That’s a long time ago,” I comment after swallowing my first spoonful—as delicious as the soup.
“Not for those who fought on the battlefields for millennia,” Daniel explains. “For them, five thousand years is a blink of an eye.”
“I see,” I mumble, looking down at my food. I can’t imagine such a thing. I’m not sure I want to. “So why did it finally stop?”
“A compromise was achieved. Archdemons were no longer free to roam the human world. And Hell’s denizens would receive an unending supply of their food source.”
My stomach twists despite the appetizing food. “Which is?”
“Human sin,” Daniel answers. “Every human soul that wasn’t deserving of Heaven would come to Hell. Some would come here, to Purgatory. This neutral pocket was created at the end of that conflict from a small piece of an archdemon’s territory.”
“What are they like?” I ask, morbidly curious. “Archdemons?”
Daniel shakes his head. “I’m not sure how to describe them in a way you could fully imagine…
Think of the worst humans you have ever heard about and their transgressions, multiply them a thousandfold, and make their perpetrators all-powerful and grotesque.
But that still might not be enough,” he finishes.
I swallow my food and put the half-eaten bowl away, feeling nauseous again. “And they’re on this council?”
“Yes. Most of them, and some powerful demon lords as well. But also many archangels and angels.”
“I see,” I say, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “And these beings decided they would use us like… pions. Pawns. Cannon fodder.”
“Well, I believe you and your fellow half-bloods are more than capable of holding your own against the manifestations overrunning Hell,” Daniel says confidently.
“What are those like?”
“Like clouds without a particular shape. Their hunger is unending, and they burn and dissolve everything they touch. Similar to some sulfurous hot springs in the human world.”
“Lovely,” I say tightly. “I simply cannot wait to encounter them.”
The fallen angel acknowledges my joke with a small smile. “You will be more than ready when it happens.”
“Let’s go, then,” I say, resigned to my fate. I stand up and straighten my rumpled pajamas. “Show me your fortress. Then show me what I could become.”
“Very well,” Daniel says, and I think I detect a hint of pride in his voice. “I’ll be waiting for you outside your room. You may use the facilities, and there are clothes for you in the closet. Take all the time you need.”
“Oh, but…”
I hate making people wait on me. Whenever Thomas had to wait, he’d throw insults at me, telling me to hurry up, that I’m always slowing him down, and making him look bad.
“Do you want to take the chair?” I ask awkwardly, indicating the uncomfortable piece of furniture with a shaky hand.
Daniel chuckles, and it’s a beautiful sound. “I could stand in place for a century and not feel any discomfort, child. Do not hurry on my account.”
With a final smile, he leaves me alone in the room that felt like a prison for the last couple of days.
Now? Now it might feel like an opportunity.
I doubt I’ll stop looking over my shoulder overnight, expecting my family or Thomas.
But maybe I’ll grow strong enough that they should be afraid of me instead.