“First off, what’s up with you and Kaidan?” she asked.
My first instinct was to say it was none of her business. Kaidan obviously hadn’t told her anything or she wouldn’t be hounding me for info. But there was no point being rude, and I didn’t want to seem evasive. I hoped to earn their trust.
“I met him after one of his shows two months ago. I didn’t know there was anybody else like me out there. I didn’t even know what I was. My father’s been in prison my whole life, so I was raised by a human woman. Kaidan explained things and taught me what he thought I should know. He drove me to California to meet my dad and talk to him. And that’s pretty much it.”
“Belial, right?” asked Blake.
“Yes.”
“Why did Kaidan take you?” Marna asked, tilting her head in interest, as though the thought of Kaidan doing something kind were peculiar.
“I don’t know. Curiosity, maybe? He said at one point he wanted to figure me out, I guess to make sure I wasn’t a threat. Plus, Pharzuph told him to teach me the ropes.”
Blake laughed and said, “Yeah, boy.” We ignored him.
“And why haven’t you spoken in a while then?” Ginger asked.
I swallowed and tried to be matter-of-fact, as if it weren’t really about me. As if there weren’t still an open wound.
“Because we’re not friends or anything. We both found out what we needed to know.”
“Love ’em and leave ’em is more like it,” Blake said. “I didn’t think Rowe wasted his time on sister Nephs.”
“It wasn’t like that.” It came out sounding a little too defensive.
“Wasn’t it?” Ginger asked, an unkind grin on her face. “You took a holiday, just the two of you, and you’re saying you didn’t have a bunk-up?”
And then I remembered Kaidan’s offhand remark about the one girl he’d ever turned down being a Nephilim. Ginger’s accusatory tone and bitter attitude made me pause. Could he have turned her down?! No way.
“We didn’t...” I almost said, We didn’t do anything, but that would have been a lie, so I left the thought dangling out there unsupervised.
“Right.” Ginger snorted.
Marna changed the subject.
“So you’ve been working for Belial, even though he’s not been around?”
I opened my mouth, indecisive, and then told them, “No.”
They all stared at me.
“Dabbling in Daddy’s goodies? Passing it out to the other kiddies?” Blake prompted me.
“I know what you mean,” I said, “but I don’t do drugs. They make me... crazy or something.”
“I bet they do.” Blake smiled.
“Ah, shut your cakehole.” Ginger backhanded his chest and he laughed.
“Don’t worry, Gin, you’re the only one for me.”
Ginger rolled her eyes severely high and crossed her arms and legs.
“You do not take drugs?” Kopano asked, sitting forward now. His accent was mellow, yet clipped.
“No,” I said.
A hint of a smile passed Kopano’s careful features, and he sat back with a different look in his eyes for me now. He was definitely the watchful, quiet type.
“How have you gotten away with that?” Marna asked.
“I guess because I wasn’t raised by a Duke.”
“Yes, but I can’t believe he didn’t leave you with someone who would teach you to do his work in his absence.” Marna sounded almost in awe.
I was very nervous all of a sudden. Not for me, but for my father. If this group had heard about me, then surely others had, too, namely the Dukes. Were they all questioning the judgment of Belial—thinking he’d neglected his duties?
“This conversation can’t get back to anybody.” My voice shook.
Blake gave a snort of derision. “Don’t worry. We don’t tell our fathers jack.”
I believed him.
“Belial has been in prison your whole life and you only just met?” asked Kopano.
“Yes.”
“Perhaps he did not know about her,” he said to the others.
I should have corrected him, but I sat silently, digesting how rebellious my father was.
“Maybe that’s why there’s a bit of white in your badge,” Marna said. “Because you’ve not had to work.”
“But there was no white in any of ours before we worked,” Ginger pointed out.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I can’t see Legionnaires,” I said.
Or maybe it’s because my mother was an angel of light....
“You can’t see ’em?” Marna asked. “Lucky. Some of ’em are downright fugly. It took me a while to see them, too. Until...”
A silence trailed, and the four Neph shared an unpleasant memory with one another through their gazes. Marna shifted and looked down, sullen. Ginger gave her a quick and gentle pat on the shoulder. I wondered what had happened, but I dared not ask.
“Anyway. It still doesn’t make sense,” Ginger said. “Even if you didn’t know before, you know now. You’ve met your father. So why aren’t you working?”
This was dangerous ground. I didn’t know if I could fully trust them, friends of Kaidan or not.
“Och, let’s leave her alone,” Marna said.
I kept my eyes averted and the room stayed quiet.
My first instinct was to say it was none of her business. Kaidan obviously hadn’t told her anything or she wouldn’t be hounding me for info. But there was no point being rude, and I didn’t want to seem evasive. I hoped to earn their trust.
“I met him after one of his shows two months ago. I didn’t know there was anybody else like me out there. I didn’t even know what I was. My father’s been in prison my whole life, so I was raised by a human woman. Kaidan explained things and taught me what he thought I should know. He drove me to California to meet my dad and talk to him. And that’s pretty much it.”
“Belial, right?” asked Blake.
“Yes.”
“Why did Kaidan take you?” Marna asked, tilting her head in interest, as though the thought of Kaidan doing something kind were peculiar.
“I don’t know. Curiosity, maybe? He said at one point he wanted to figure me out, I guess to make sure I wasn’t a threat. Plus, Pharzuph told him to teach me the ropes.”
Blake laughed and said, “Yeah, boy.” We ignored him.
“And why haven’t you spoken in a while then?” Ginger asked.
I swallowed and tried to be matter-of-fact, as if it weren’t really about me. As if there weren’t still an open wound.
“Because we’re not friends or anything. We both found out what we needed to know.”
“Love ’em and leave ’em is more like it,” Blake said. “I didn’t think Rowe wasted his time on sister Nephs.”
“It wasn’t like that.” It came out sounding a little too defensive.
“Wasn’t it?” Ginger asked, an unkind grin on her face. “You took a holiday, just the two of you, and you’re saying you didn’t have a bunk-up?”
And then I remembered Kaidan’s offhand remark about the one girl he’d ever turned down being a Nephilim. Ginger’s accusatory tone and bitter attitude made me pause. Could he have turned her down?! No way.
“We didn’t...” I almost said, We didn’t do anything, but that would have been a lie, so I left the thought dangling out there unsupervised.
“Right.” Ginger snorted.
Marna changed the subject.
“So you’ve been working for Belial, even though he’s not been around?”
I opened my mouth, indecisive, and then told them, “No.”
They all stared at me.
“Dabbling in Daddy’s goodies? Passing it out to the other kiddies?” Blake prompted me.
“I know what you mean,” I said, “but I don’t do drugs. They make me... crazy or something.”
“I bet they do.” Blake smiled.
“Ah, shut your cakehole.” Ginger backhanded his chest and he laughed.
“Don’t worry, Gin, you’re the only one for me.”
Ginger rolled her eyes severely high and crossed her arms and legs.
“You do not take drugs?” Kopano asked, sitting forward now. His accent was mellow, yet clipped.
“No,” I said.
A hint of a smile passed Kopano’s careful features, and he sat back with a different look in his eyes for me now. He was definitely the watchful, quiet type.
“How have you gotten away with that?” Marna asked.
“I guess because I wasn’t raised by a Duke.”
“Yes, but I can’t believe he didn’t leave you with someone who would teach you to do his work in his absence.” Marna sounded almost in awe.
I was very nervous all of a sudden. Not for me, but for my father. If this group had heard about me, then surely others had, too, namely the Dukes. Were they all questioning the judgment of Belial—thinking he’d neglected his duties?
“This conversation can’t get back to anybody.” My voice shook.
Blake gave a snort of derision. “Don’t worry. We don’t tell our fathers jack.”
I believed him.
“Belial has been in prison your whole life and you only just met?” asked Kopano.
“Yes.”
“Perhaps he did not know about her,” he said to the others.
I should have corrected him, but I sat silently, digesting how rebellious my father was.
“Maybe that’s why there’s a bit of white in your badge,” Marna said. “Because you’ve not had to work.”
“But there was no white in any of ours before we worked,” Ginger pointed out.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I can’t see Legionnaires,” I said.
Or maybe it’s because my mother was an angel of light....
“You can’t see ’em?” Marna asked. “Lucky. Some of ’em are downright fugly. It took me a while to see them, too. Until...”
A silence trailed, and the four Neph shared an unpleasant memory with one another through their gazes. Marna shifted and looked down, sullen. Ginger gave her a quick and gentle pat on the shoulder. I wondered what had happened, but I dared not ask.
“Anyway. It still doesn’t make sense,” Ginger said. “Even if you didn’t know before, you know now. You’ve met your father. So why aren’t you working?”
This was dangerous ground. I didn’t know if I could fully trust them, friends of Kaidan or not.
“Och, let’s leave her alone,” Marna said.
I kept my eyes averted and the room stayed quiet.
