Wings of the Wicked
Page 13
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I shrugged. “Well, she’s not very nice and she didn’t want me to use my swords with her. And the way my power burned her? I know I’ve only ever tried that on Ragnuk, but it made me wonder. Angelfire only burns the demonic, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s not completely the same,” he said. “You’re an angel, an archangel. Your power is virtually limitless, and we don’t completely understand it. Whatever it is about your power that is able to burn, it may not even be angelfire at all. You spent decades of mortal years in Heaven, training, before you were reincarnated this time. Maybe this is one of the results of that training. Once your memory returns fully, then perhaps more of your new powers will as well.”
I let his words sink in, wanting so much—so, so much—to remember everything that I’d forgotten, and not just bits and pieces. Most of it had come back to me, my past lives and such, but the deeper, darker things still eluded me. It felt like something evil pulsed at the very root of my strength, feeding on it, even though I was supposed to be divine. Human emotion was supposed to make me stronger, but it seemed to just make me crazier. Maybe it was the humanity getting to me, the evil of humanity contaminating my power the way the frailty of humanity made my body weaker than my enemies’. My power may have been greater than theirs, but this body was mortal, and mortality was synonymous with death. Will had never died, because however much he resembled a normal guy, his body was not human. He was a reaper, and they happened to be difficult to kill, for many good reasons.
My lips grew tight as I thought hard. “But how do you know the difference between a demonic reaper and an angelic reaper? Like, really know without testing with angelfire. It’s not like it’s tattooed on their foreheads or anything. Do they feel different to you? A vir reaper is just a vir reaper until it tries to kill me, and then I know it’s demonic.”
“It’s the darkness,” he explained. “The evil that fuels them. The brutality they’ve known since birth and that runs through their veins. Violence is the only thing that makes sense to them. When their power and emotion grow, they begin to feel very different from my own kind. The wickedness of the demonic has a powerful effect on the angelic.”
“So you can’t tell just by looking at them?”
“Evil is deeper than just what’s on the surface. Something can look frightening and be pure and innocent.” Then he grinned. “Unlike shoes, evil doesn’t have designer labels.”
I scowled at the metaphor, completely aware that he was making fun of me. However, I did remember the strange things that’d happened to me since my powers were awakened. The feeling of darkness in my power, the black spidery lines that I’d seen on my own skin—a vision I still to this day didn’t understand the meaning of. Was I mistaken in thinking it was evil in me that made me experience those things? How distinct was the line between good and evil, and how much of it all blended together? “I still don’t get how a reaper is inherently either good or evil, depending on their genetics.”
“That’s just the way things are. Ava is an angelic reaper.”
“So she won’t turn bad?”
“Of course not. She can’t become demonic. Or vice versa.”
“So she isn’t a demonic reaper that turned good?”
“No.” The stern finality in his voice signaled to me that this was the end of the conversation.
“All right,” I conceded. I needed to trust Will’s judgment, no matter how confused I was over Ava … and Cadan. He was even more confusing. I wanted to see the best in Cadan—and perhaps the worst in Ava, for stupid reasons—but Will would know, right? He was one of them, after all. And despite who and what I was, I was still an outsider.
But at least I could kick all their asses.
There was one more day of school before the weekend, and this would be my first fun weekend in a few months. My grades were up and I was no longer grounded. Along with my friends, my parents believed Will and I had broken up from our imaginary relationship. If he was my boyfriend, they would expect me to bring him around the house and to do family things together—and by they, I meant just my mom, since my dad preferred to be MIA unless he was yelling at me for something or another.
“So, Movie Night tomorrow?” I asked as we got close to my neighborhood.
“If you wish.”
I smiled slyly. “If I wanted to go shopping and asked you to hold my bags, you’d do it, huh?”
He frowned and glanced at me. “I’d dislike that.”
“But you’d still do it.”
“You wouldn’t ask me to.”
He was right. I didn’t think I had it in me to abuse our relationship. “No, I wouldn’t. But don’t press me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
That made him laugh a little. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. I’ve see you at your best and at your worst. Nothing you could do would shock me in the least.”
“Is that so?” I gave him a challenging look. “That better not be a bet, either.”
“You know, for an angel, you sure do gamble a lot.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Oh, okay,” he said sarcastically.
“Maybe I’m just above the rules.”
“Or you’re not.”
“I’m the Preliator. I do what I want.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Yeah, but it’s not completely the same,” he said. “You’re an angel, an archangel. Your power is virtually limitless, and we don’t completely understand it. Whatever it is about your power that is able to burn, it may not even be angelfire at all. You spent decades of mortal years in Heaven, training, before you were reincarnated this time. Maybe this is one of the results of that training. Once your memory returns fully, then perhaps more of your new powers will as well.”
I let his words sink in, wanting so much—so, so much—to remember everything that I’d forgotten, and not just bits and pieces. Most of it had come back to me, my past lives and such, but the deeper, darker things still eluded me. It felt like something evil pulsed at the very root of my strength, feeding on it, even though I was supposed to be divine. Human emotion was supposed to make me stronger, but it seemed to just make me crazier. Maybe it was the humanity getting to me, the evil of humanity contaminating my power the way the frailty of humanity made my body weaker than my enemies’. My power may have been greater than theirs, but this body was mortal, and mortality was synonymous with death. Will had never died, because however much he resembled a normal guy, his body was not human. He was a reaper, and they happened to be difficult to kill, for many good reasons.
My lips grew tight as I thought hard. “But how do you know the difference between a demonic reaper and an angelic reaper? Like, really know without testing with angelfire. It’s not like it’s tattooed on their foreheads or anything. Do they feel different to you? A vir reaper is just a vir reaper until it tries to kill me, and then I know it’s demonic.”
“It’s the darkness,” he explained. “The evil that fuels them. The brutality they’ve known since birth and that runs through their veins. Violence is the only thing that makes sense to them. When their power and emotion grow, they begin to feel very different from my own kind. The wickedness of the demonic has a powerful effect on the angelic.”
“So you can’t tell just by looking at them?”
“Evil is deeper than just what’s on the surface. Something can look frightening and be pure and innocent.” Then he grinned. “Unlike shoes, evil doesn’t have designer labels.”
I scowled at the metaphor, completely aware that he was making fun of me. However, I did remember the strange things that’d happened to me since my powers were awakened. The feeling of darkness in my power, the black spidery lines that I’d seen on my own skin—a vision I still to this day didn’t understand the meaning of. Was I mistaken in thinking it was evil in me that made me experience those things? How distinct was the line between good and evil, and how much of it all blended together? “I still don’t get how a reaper is inherently either good or evil, depending on their genetics.”
“That’s just the way things are. Ava is an angelic reaper.”
“So she won’t turn bad?”
“Of course not. She can’t become demonic. Or vice versa.”
“So she isn’t a demonic reaper that turned good?”
“No.” The stern finality in his voice signaled to me that this was the end of the conversation.
“All right,” I conceded. I needed to trust Will’s judgment, no matter how confused I was over Ava … and Cadan. He was even more confusing. I wanted to see the best in Cadan—and perhaps the worst in Ava, for stupid reasons—but Will would know, right? He was one of them, after all. And despite who and what I was, I was still an outsider.
But at least I could kick all their asses.
There was one more day of school before the weekend, and this would be my first fun weekend in a few months. My grades were up and I was no longer grounded. Along with my friends, my parents believed Will and I had broken up from our imaginary relationship. If he was my boyfriend, they would expect me to bring him around the house and to do family things together—and by they, I meant just my mom, since my dad preferred to be MIA unless he was yelling at me for something or another.
“So, Movie Night tomorrow?” I asked as we got close to my neighborhood.
“If you wish.”
I smiled slyly. “If I wanted to go shopping and asked you to hold my bags, you’d do it, huh?”
He frowned and glanced at me. “I’d dislike that.”
“But you’d still do it.”
“You wouldn’t ask me to.”
He was right. I didn’t think I had it in me to abuse our relationship. “No, I wouldn’t. But don’t press me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
That made him laugh a little. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. I’ve see you at your best and at your worst. Nothing you could do would shock me in the least.”
“Is that so?” I gave him a challenging look. “That better not be a bet, either.”
“You know, for an angel, you sure do gamble a lot.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Oh, okay,” he said sarcastically.
“Maybe I’m just above the rules.”
“Or you’re not.”
“I’m the Preliator. I do what I want.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
