Chapter 11
Imogael
I didn't want to tell him anything at all. I knew that who I was, what I was, would drive a wedge between Scott and myself. But he had been honest with me, had told me so many of his secrets, and chances are my own secrets had something to do with the hell he was now living.
“There's a chance you might meet the man who bruised my back soon,” I started. This seemed a better way to get into this, with something he understood. While the way I received those bruises was nothing similar to Scott's suspicions, it was entirely possible that Seraniel was here on earth in more than apparition form.
“How is that possible? Was Joey...” He trailed off, not even wanting to finish his own sentence.
I cut him off by holding up my hand to silence him. “No. It wasn't any of the people you thought you killed. I haven't been entirely honest about myself, Scott.” I look around, noticing that the street was quiet again. The doors were shut, the windows covered, with only peaks of light coming through a few of them. We were alone. It was the perfect time and place to reveal all of this.
I could easily escape if I needed to, and no one would hear me. No one would be able to catch me in time. I just hoped so hard that I didn't have to. If Scott could find it in himself to believe me, to trust me, then I could continue helping him. I could continue being near him.
I wondered if he needed me, or if I needed him.
“I'm not following, Elise. You'll need to spell it out for me.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but failed miserably. I couldn't help but chuckle and reach up to skim his face with my hand.
“You've noticed, I'm sure, that weird things happen around me. Maybe even that I'm weird, myself.”
He nodded. “Maybe I have.” I knew he had. I saw the looks he gave me after I started trouble.
“Look, there's no easy way to put this. I've never had to explain this to anyone before, it was always obvious before. I mean with the skin and the horns and the wings, I was unmistakably a...” I cut off, sudden fear lurching in my stomach.
“A demon,” he finished for me. He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. I knew, then, that this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation for me.
Irritated, my nostrils flared. “Yes, Scott. A demon, brought up from Hell against my will. That's why I have those bruises, that's where my wings were. Wings are like a family heirloom, a point of pride, so when you're punished, they get taken away.”
“If you're not joking, you're nuts.” He crossed his arms.
Scoffing, I mimicked his body language. “I can prove it, asshole.” Then I thought about it. “It might take a few tries, though. I don't know what I brought up with me. I think I lost some of it when I was ripped up from Hell.”
“Go on, then,” he demanded, watching me with cold eyes. I hated having those eyes on me, the disappointment in them. I was right. This was going to destroy the good thing we had going.
I tried a few different things before I finally got something. First, I tried to materialize a bird into my hand, since it would have been flashy and undeniable. A living bird out of nowhere couldn't possibly be denied, but when I tried, it was like the water was starting to bubble but refused to boil over.
Then I tried to make Scott float, which would have again been undeniable. It wasn't like he could have thought he was in on the trick if it was him in the air, but again, no luck.
The third trick worked, though. It wasn't impressive, but it was good enough. “Open up your palms, towards the sky, and put your hands together in front of you. Yes, just like that.” I placed my hands under his and concentrated on the fires of Hell, feeling their heat rising in me.
Finally, I felt the connection, the click. In Scott's own palms, I created a small fire, one that flickered and burned hot, but did not scald his hands. He gasped and pulled away, dropping the flame onto the road. I stamped it out, about ready to start crying. “I understand if you're afraid of me, or you hate me. That makes sense. I can't blame you for it. Just… please, let me see this through. Let me finish helping you. Once the murderer is gone, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again.”
I was doing all of this for Scott. That's all I wanted to do. After that, Seraniel could kill me for good and I would die happy. It was a dramatic thing to say, but it was true. I didn't care, as long as I saw this one last thing through.
To a point, though, I was also doing this for Seraniel. Something in his apparitions seemed apprehensive, scared. If he had been summoned by someone here on earth, any number of awful things could happen as a result. He was a powerful angel, and more importantly, he had been my friend for a long time.
There was an overwhelming sense of duty to all of this, uncomfortable and restricting. I had never had much responsibility before in Hell.
Finally, Scott sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Look. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this. I'm pretty sure I still don't believe a lick of it, but I like having you around. You haven't done anything to hurt me, and I know you're trying to help us. You can stay, for now. For now, I will trust you.”
I smiled, but I didn't dare reach out to him. I didn't dare touch him. “That's all I could have asked for. Thank you, Scott.”
It wasn't the best outcome I could have imagined, but it was good enough.
Scott
I didn't want Elise's arms around me while we rode, but there was little choice. It's impossible to explain just how that touch made me feel. It was like shards of glass were wrapped around my torso, ready to cut me if I made the wrong mood.
It wasn't fair. Just as I was getting used to her being around, just as I realized that I loved her, I found out that she was nuts. And she was nuts. The alternative outcome, that she was a demon, was impossible. Did she really think that I would fall for that trick with the fire?
Sure, it was realistic, but I knew that magicians could do a lot of cool things without their audience knowing. With new technology, almost anything was possible, even with an unknowing participant. No, I wouldn't let her confuse and convince me with that trick. She was insane, and was living in some kind of internal fantasy world where she believed she was a demon.
But as I turned onto the highway, the wind whipping through my hair, I remembered the chaos she had caused. How trouble found her, whether it was starting fights or causing two strange men to make out. There was no way she could have orchestrated all of that, and yet there were few other options. She had to be behind them.
How, though? How could such a small thing cause grown men to act so erratically? Maybe she really did have some kind of magic.
No. I didn't believe that. I couldn't believe that. I had to get a grip of my thoughts, damn it. If she was capable of magic to cause fights, couldn't she also have been capable of forcing me to love her?
Did I still love her? I thought about it. If she was just insane, I could stay with her, easily. Maybe I could even care for her, help her cope, get her on medicine and in therapy. It would be a welcome distraction, a reason to leave some of my work behind. I had plenty of money saved up, waiting for me to retire.
If she was a demon, though, what was I supposed to do? That would completely rewrite everything I knew and understood. If I started believing in demons, I would have to believe in God again. I'd have to go back to church and sincerely repent of my many, many sins. But if I did that, Elise would probably hate me. That's what demons did, right? They corrupted humanity. Why would Elise be any different?
It was an impossible situation. If she was a demon, everything about this was fucked. It was fucked from the start, and I didn't want to lose her. So yes, it was unfair that she had told me all of that. I wished she would have just kept her delusions to herself, instead of including me in them.
God, why did I have to love her so bad? Who fell in love with a crazy person?
Why did I need her around so bad? Was I going soft?
When we got to the bank, Elise leaned against the wall while I dialed the manager. “Hey, I'm calling in one of those favors. Could you come out right now? I need to get into my safety deposit box.” I knew it was asking a lot, but I didn't want to wait until morning, when people could easily see us going in.
He wasn't happy, but he agreed to come, and in only a few minutes he was there and unlocking the back door. Holding it open for us, Elise and I both crept in, feeling like we had to sneak even though we had been let in.
The building was eerily quiet at night. If I wanted to, I could have probably grabbed some cash, but I didn't want to strain my friendships there. It was incredibly useful to have friends in finance, even if it was just a small bank in a small town in Arkansas. Plus, I wasn't really the thieving type, and I didn't need the money anyway.
Off of the front room, to the left, was the small room that held the safety deposit boxes. They were small, though a few larger ones were down at the end. Mine was one of the larger ones, and it held some guns and some money, plus photos of Etta.
The key that Elise found was for a smaller one, in the middle row near the beginning.
There was no telling what was inside of that box. It could have been anything. It could have been the meaning of everything. The sheer weight of possibilities that the box held made me freeze in my spot.
What would I do if I found out, definitively, that Joey was alive? What if it really was him, and not just someone trying to make me think it was him? How would I react? What would I do? It was entirely possible that the knowledge could fill me with a blood lust, a need to carry out the murder I had obviously failed at before.
But would that really be the best answer?
Sliding the key into the box easily, I took a slow, deep breath. Then another. Elise was so close to me that I felt her hot breath against my neck. Her confession was forgotten for the moment, and I was thankful that she was nearby. Turning to Elise, I examined her face. She seemed as anxious as I was, but she was still beautiful in the dark. I was thankful that she was near me, that I could lean on her for support.
“You ready?” I asked her.
She paused, not moving, then nodded. “Open it up.” For a self-described demon, she seemed so human.
Turning the key, it clicked, and the box came out. The door opened to reveal a drawer. With a finger, I slid the drawer out towards us, holding my breath.