Sweet Evil
Page 38

 Wendy Higgins

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It was so unfair. I pushed on with my questions.
“How often do the demons visit people?”
“It depends on the need. Once a month. Once a year. It varies from person to person.”
“Why are they allowed to do this?” I couldn’t help but feel betrayed on behalf of humanity. I was jolted by the bitter edge in Kaidan’s response.
“Maybe because the Creator is not as good and loving as you give Him credit for.”
“You’re angry at Him?” I wasn’t sure why it surprised me.
“He’s never done me any favors. I was damned from the moment of conception, and you probably were, too, with or without your bit of angel.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He ran a hand through his hair and stared hard at the road. “I mean there’s no chance of redemption for the Neph. It’s the first lesson we learn during training. We go to hell, just like our fathers.”
Wait. What? He had to be mistaken.
“I don’t see how that can be possible,” I said. “Maybe your father didn’t want you getting any lofty ideas about not being the prodigy lust boy.”
“We’ll see,” he said. “Ask your own father when you meet him.”
I tried to focus on the landscape and not the confused feelings inside me. I couldn’t even bring myself to get excited at the Texas state line. All I could think about was the possibility of being condemned to hell. It couldn’t be true. I would find out the truth, although I wished it didn’t have to be from the demon who fathered me.
I leaned against the door, zoning out at the flat expanse of land in every direction, and let my eyes close.
A nudge against my arm made me crack my bleary eyes and look around. I sat up and smoothed my hair back as my vision adjusted. We were out in the middle of nowhere. Miles of flat nothingness.
“Sorry to wake you, but I have to stop for petrol.”
We got gas at a small country store, along with sandwiches, apples, drinks, and rocky-road fudge made by the owner’s wife.
Kaidan had been captivated by the store owner’s deep Texas accent. He asked a ridiculous number of questions just to keep the man talking. He then tried to repeat the man’s accent when we got in the car: “‘Where are y’all young’uns headed? We got us some maps over yonder by them there h-apples.’”
I laughed out loud as he butchered the man’s beautiful drawl.
“He did not say ‘over yonder’!”
“I’ve always wanted to say that. I love Americans. You’ve got a nice little accent, though not nearly as wicked as his.”
“I do?”
He nodded.
Aside from the occasional y’all, I didn’t think I sounded Southern, but I guess it’s hard to say about your own self.
“Tell me about the places you’ve lived.” I angled in my seat toward him and unwrapped the first of his two sandwiches, winding a napkin around the bottom half and handing it to him.
“Thanks.” He took a huge bite and began talking after he swallowed. “I was born in London. My mother also died in childbirth, like all mothers of Nephilim.” He took another bite as I pondered this.
“I grew up back and forth between the British Isles: England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales. I spent short periods of time in France, Italy, and South Africa. This is my first time in the States. I was disappointed by Atlanta at first—I’d wanted to live in New York—but it’s grown on me.”
Everything about Kaidan was exciting and exotic. This was my first time traveling away from home, and he’d already seen so much. I ate my apple, glad it was crisp and not soft.
“Which was your favorite place?” I asked.
“I’ve never been terribly attached to any place. I guess it would have to be... here.”
I stopped midchew and examined his face. He wouldn’t look at me. He was clenching his jaw, tense. Was he serious or was he teasing me? I swallowed my bite.
“The Texas panhandle?” I asked.
“No.” He seemed to choose each word with deliberate care. “I mean here in this car. With you.”
Covered in goose bumps, I looked away from him and stared straight ahead at the road, letting my hand with the apple fall to my lap.
He cleared his throat and tried to explain. “I’ve not talked like this with anyone, not since I started working, not even to the only four people in the world who I call friends. You have Patti, and even that boyfriend of yours. So this has been a relief of sorts. Kind of... nice.” He cleared his throat again.
Oh, my gosh. Did we just have a moment? I proceeded with caution, hoping not to ruin it.
“It’s been nice for me, too,” I said. “I’ve never told Jay anything. He has no idea. You’re the only one I’ve talked to about it all, except Patti, but it’s not the same. She learned the basics from the nun at the convent where I was born.”
“You were born in a convent,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“Naturally.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “I didn’t talk to Patti about any of the changes in me or the things I could do when I was growing up. So I do understand the loneliness.”
“Even so,” he said. “Her love for you...”
And there it was.
I had grown up with love, and nothing else. Kaidan had grown up with all of the knowledge of who he is, and all the material things in the world, but no love.