you doing here?” She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you darling!” She pulled back from him and looked him up and down, seeming to check for signs of damage or malnutrition. She beamed back at him, all traces of other emotion erased from her face, leaving nothing but the blazing warmth of a mother’s love. His heart cracked a little in the face of it. He wanted to pull her back to him and hold her while he told her everything that was wrong with his life, just like he had done when he was a child.
But he’d restrained himself, a man his age couldn’t break down just because he was seeing his mother for the first time in more than a decade. Besides, it’d be a bad first impression to make on all the eyes that were boring into him. Including the man hovering behind his mother with a confused look on his face.
“I thought I’d make a little surprise visit, I hope you don’t mind,” he glanced at the man, he really hadn’t wanted to make waves in his mother’s life.
“Oh, of course we don’t mind, do we,” his mother called her lover’s name in their native tongue and Demon quirked an eyebrow, according to what she’d told him Angels weren’t supposed to keep their names after the fall.
His mother laughed at him and playfully hit his shoulder, “You haven’t changed a bit. You can keep your eyebrows in check. He hasn’t been here long enough to have a new name yet.”
“Ah, freshly fallen, and already making the moves on my mom,” Demon tried to be jovial, but the newly mortal angel’s face was stoney.
“Oh, it’s not so sudden as all that actually, he was my partner… before.”
He waited for her to elaborate. Before her fall obviously, but how long before? Had she left this man and the only home she’d ever known to be with his father? Understanding hit him, now the panic he’d seen on her face suddenly made sense.
It appeared, as usual, he’d managed to come to visit at the worst possible time.
His mother looked between the two of them, and around at all the people watching and cleared her throat, “Well, let’s not just stand outside all day, come, let me show you our home.” She took his hand and began to guide him away.
“Greshian, I’m going to go fly the perimeter and allow you time to speak alone with your son,” the man’s voice sounded harsh, as if was somehow echoing off the canyon walls despite how quietly he had spoken. His granite face didn’t betray any emotion as he turned and flew away.
“He seems like a real party of a guy mom, way too boisterous, I would have picked someone a little more stable for you.”
She laughed at him, “Give him a break Demon, he’s a week out of Heaven.”
“Heaven? Is that what they’re calling it now? I saw the church up there, have the angel’s gone into full cult mode?”
She looked around to see if anyone was listening, and realized that probably everyone could hear them, “Psh, Demon, don’t be silly.” She squeezed his hand and began leading him again. Obviously that was not a line of questioning he could pursue in public.
Finally, she dropped his hand and they flew about halfway up the canyon wall to where a bright blue door sat on ledge that only jutted out about a couple of feet. On either side of the door sat containers filled with a variety of aromatic kitchen herbs.
Demon inhaled deeply, it smelled like his childhood. Somehow he’d forgotten the scent until just that moment when he’d smelled it again. His mother had always had a little garden growing, for cooking herbs and the odd medicinal plant here and there, though she didn’t need them. She’d said if she had a place to grow herbs and tomatoes she felt like she could make a home.
He looked further down the ledge wall, sure enough there were some tall wire cones holding up tomato plants that drooped with green tomatoes, not yet ready to pick.
The sense of nostalgia hit him hard like a kick in the gut, reminding him of how happy he’d been as a young child, his life before him with all the endless possibilities.
Now he knew that that kind of hope always died a hard death in the face of reality.
He followed her into the dark interior of the home and watched her call out a phrase he wasn’t familiar with. Dots of brightness flickered into being all around them as small crystals let forth soft yellow light. It reminded him of fireflies dancing in the summer twilight.
“Neat trick,” he said as his eyes scanned the room. The crystals gave everything a warm glow, making the low ceilings feel like a cozy den instead of a claustrophobic nightmare.
The home was different than the one he’d grown up in, of course, but somehow the feeling was the same. Even with the crystals lighting up the place.
The living room slash dining room slash kitchen all ran together, and if he’d tried to describe it to someone they’d think of it as a tight, jumbled mess, but it wasn’t. It was cozy and warm. And it felt like home despite the fact that he’d never even walked inside it before.
“It’s not much,” his mother said, “But it’s mine.” He saw the pride in her eyes as she scanned her little home. In another life his mother would have been a stay at home mom in a Leave It To Beaver-esque suburb with ten children hanging off her apron.
“It’s nice,” Demon said, wishing he could actually feel the detachment he heard in his voice. “You’ll have to teach me that trick with the crystals, chicks love mood lighting.”
She loosed a surprise laugh at him, the genuine humor transforming her face into something brilliant, and finally he saw a few crinkles beginning to form around her eyes. A very few, but for some reason they reassured him.
“Come, get comfortable, I’ll make you some lemonade. I’m so glad you’re here, I really am,” she reached out a hand and squeezed his arm as she passed to get to the kitchen area.
He followed and perched on a stool in front of a little bar area. “Tell me about everything! You haven’t returned any of my phone calls lately,” she gave him a mock disapproving glare.
“Oh you know, the usual,” he took a long sip out of the glass she’d sat in front of him. It was cold and way too sweet, just like she’d made it when he was a kid.
He mentally chided himself, he couldn’t keep letting each and every thing that happened here be a dagger into his bittersweet memories of childhood. That would defeat the purpose of why he’d come, which was to have a break from all of the mess going on back in Three Rivers. He didn’t want to jump out of one emotional drain and into another. And he didn’t want to talk about everything that had been going on.
“That’s my Elimson, always so talkative,” the smile froze on her face as she watched him tense.
No one had called him that name in a long time, “Sorry, sometimes I forget that you don’t like to be called by your name.”
“I’d rather be called by what I am,” he smirked, trying to throw off the mix of feelings rushing threw him.
“You’re not now, nor ever have been a demon.”
“Oh, really? Because that’s exactly what the good book of my father’s people says I am. It’s what I grew up being taught, that any kind of mix between supernatural beings was an abomination. It’s what he called me, my whole life and it’s what he taught everyone else to call me.”
“I’m sorry he called you that. I’m sorry I let him, at the time I thought it was an affectionate nickname, not a slur. And besides what you’re called and what you are, are two different things, I don’t want to fight darling. You just got here.” She reached out to touch his face and he looked away.
He didn’t want to fight either, but every way he turned he felt like he was being overwhelmed with emotion.
“He’s not doing well,” he said. Her pacifying smile disappeared and she pulled her hand away. “I know you wanted to ask.”
“I wanted to know, but I wasn’t going to ask,” she turned away from him and put the pitcher of lemonade back into the tiny painted antique refrigerator.
“His memory is mostly gone, he can’t do most things by himself, he can’t even go to the bathroom on his own. But he still remembers me, remembers what I am. The last time I tried to visit him he screamed at me like I was something out of a horror movie and threw his lunch at me.”
The last time he’d been in town he’d waited outside his father’s house for Glory to leave, he wanted to see his Dad, not have to deal with his screeching banshee of a step mother, and then he’d gone in, thinking he’d say a few words of comfort to a man who wouldn’t even remember him, maybe even tell him that he forgave him for everything whether or not that was true. He’d even toyed with the thought of trying to clear some of the fog away from his father’s mind. But instead of any of that, he’d walked in and his father’s whole being changed. He gone from a slack jawed Alzheimer’s victim, watching television while eating his lunch, to a man possessed.
“DEMON!” he’d shrieked, over and over again as he stumbled over his chair trying to get away. “DEMON!” as he picked up an orange and threw it at him, followed by a sandwich.
Demon had tried for a moment to calm him down, but after getting scratched across the face and almost bitten he’d given up and left.
He hadn’t been back.
“That’s a shame, despite what you think of him, your father had so much potential and fire. Looking at him was like looking at a solar flare.” She smiled wanly, obviously thinking of a time before he’d even been born, a time when she’d thought his father was worth leaving all her people and her home behind.
“They blame you, you know. The ‘witch’ who took his mind. They think you cast some kind of spell on him, leaving him like he is now.”
“What they think matters little to me. I’d go heal him if I could.”
“And what’s stopping you, is it Glory?”
“No,” she said looking away, ‘but I made promises that I’m bound by. But you aren’t bound by them.”
“You think I should heal him, after everything?”
“Your father isn’t perfect Demon, but given the chance, people can change.”
“He had every chance to change, and I don’t owe him anything.”
“You’re right, you don’t. He owes you a father who loves you. You could let him have the chance to give it to you.”
He looked at her incredulously; she still held out hope that his father would mend his ways and be the loving man she’d always wanted him to be.
“You’re delusional if you think he could ever be anything other than the piece of shit he is.”
She shook her head, “You can’t see it, but he was, he is a man whose soul burns brighter than the rest,” Her eyes glazed over with memory until she sat up, focusing her attention on Demon again, “But let’s stop talking about your father. Tell me about you!”
For the next few hours he sat and tried to drum up some interesting things to tell her about his life. He travelled, and did odd jobs, and slept with random women. There wasn’t a lot in there he could be proud enough of to tell his mother about. And he didn’t want to get into all the things that were going on with the Dogs. That was what he was trying to escape. So, mostly they made small talk.
He did tell her about Sidney, and a hopeful gleam came into her eyes, but he ignored it and changed the subject to his least favorite brother. He didn’t want to get her hopes up, things had a habit of not working out.
“They’re calling him ‘Red’ now, guess he didn’t want his older brother to be the only one with a cool nickname.”
“Red?” his mother laughed, “Well, that suits him. Odd that it took an outsider to call him that. Is he ok with you and this girl being together? I don’t want it to cause more bad blood between you two.”
That was his mother, the peacemaker. “I’m not with her mom. I haven’t even taken her out on a date yet. But regardless he doesn’t seem to care what anyone does right now. He’s being… weird right now. But, I don’t want to get into all that. The less I think about Red while I’m away the better.”
Behind him the door opened and closed, he turned to see his mother’s new lover walk in. He’d never seen a newly fallen angel before, he’d barely seen any angels at all for that matter, his mother had always kept him isolated, growing up with only her around until they’d moved to Three Rivers to be closer to his father.
He wasn’t sure what a newly fallen angel was supposed to look or act like, but this one was devoid of humanity. He looked like moving marble, a statue come to life. He turned to look Demon’s way and he almost flinched. The man had a steely gray gaze that felt like it could pierce the soul.
“Was the perimeter clear?” his mother asked with a casualness that clashed with the man’s countenance. His eyes swung away from Demon and landed on his mother.
“Greshian, this one has a spirit attached to it. I can see that it is lost and hurting yet he does not set it free, why is this allowed?”
“Demon?” his mother’s eyes moved questioningly towards him.
Veronica, it must be. He hadn’t heard from her in long enough that he’d begun to hope she’d gone towards the light or wherever it was that collected bitches like her in the afterlife.
“Well, see, now that’s a long story…”
“I do not require the tale of how you acquired this spirit, you must let it go immediately. Holding such as it hostage is, what is the word Greshian?” He gave her the word he was looking for.
“Forbidden, taboo,” his mother provided.
“Look, I’m more than willing to let her go, but see there’s just one problem. I have no idea how.” He held up his hands in mock helplessness, “Perhaps you can give me a few pointers.”
The stony eyes considered him for a moment and then he spoke.
“There are many ways that this can be accomplished. The fastest and least depleting way will be to kill you and release both souls at the same time.” The man made the motion of pulling a sword out of the empty space beside his hip. A ringing sounded and the room filled with light as the brightness from the appearing blade blinded them. “It will be painless and quick, you have my word.”
Demon held his hand up trying to blink away the brightness out of his eyes.
His plan to escape and relax under the succor of his mother’s roof was turning out to be less relaxing than he’d expected.