Glad school was over for the day, I parked my Alfa outside the garage, even happier my father’s car wasn’t there. He was probably still at the university, lecturing in religious studies. Still, I wished my mother and grandfather had taken him with them on their trip, because right now, I didn’t want to see any of my family, what I’d been told about them still doing my head in.
I jumped out of my car and dashed through the rain to the front entrance, relieved to get under cover. I unlocked the door and headed straight for my mother’s library, wanting to read The Book of the Rosary so I could find out more about Stellas.
I made a beeline for the glass cabinet holding the book, unlocking it within seconds, my lock picking skills not too shabby. I lifted the glass cover and removed The Book of the Rosary, eager to learn about Catherine’s people. I placed the lid back into its proper position, hoping my father didn’t notice the book’s absence. Though, I didn’t think he would, since he usually did his research at the university, unlike my mother who worked from home.
I carried the book to my room, locking my door just in case my father came home without warning. I placed the book on top of my desk, its bumpy surface reminding me of rosary beads. Tingles of apprehension ran through me, as though the book was letting me know I shouldn’t be touching it.
But I didn’t care.
I opened it to the contents page, trying to find anything about Stellas, surprised when there was no mention of them. I flicked to the back of the book and searched the index, smiling when I spotted a whole raft of pages referring to them. I went to the first reference, finding a chapter about Marises. A picture of a blue rosary was depicted under the title, but it looked different from Catherine’s, the star-like bead replaced by a shell-shaped one. I started reading about the Maris rosary, which reiterated the information I already knew: that the rosary controlled all forms of water, Marises often living by the sea or snow.
Near the bottom of the page, I found what I was after, the author mentioning that Stellas could use Maris rosaries, the next line also confirming what I’d thought:
Stellas can change their eye colour at will, mimicking a Maris as well as other Merges.
I quickly flipped the page, disappointed that there was no more information on Stellas. I checked the index for the next reference, finding similar information in the Seraphim chapter. I skimmed through the chapter about my people, trying to find anything I hadn’t been told, but it just reiterated what I already knew about Moses’ burning bush, the tongues of fire, as well as the Spanish Inquisition with the burning of heretics.
Until I came to the last paragraph.
A chill ran through my bones at what was written:
The Spanish Inquisition was often used as a veil to hide the slaughter of half-cast Merges. Many half-demon and half-angel Merges were burned alive at the stake, along with young Stellas. Stellas who hadn’t reached full maturity were often mistaken as half-casts due to their inability to control their powers as well as their eye colour. Some believe it was the Spanish Inquisition that devastated the Stella population in Europe, rather than the Angel and Demon War. It is said that the surviving Stellas returned to Heaven, but not before assassinating the people responsible for burning their young, thus putting an end to the Spanish Inquisition.
The chapter came to an end, the next one on the Halo Rosary, also known as the Healing Beads. I continued reading, Halos fascinating me. A picture of a Halo Merge was depicted under the title, their hair as white as Catherine’s. I greedily gobbled up the information beneath the picture, reading about how Halos could raise the dead as well as suck all the air out of a person. I barely noticed the clock ticking over as I devoured everything about Halos—the air Merges.
A loud bang made me almost jump out of my skin. A second later, I realised it was the front door. My eyes shot to my own door as the handle twisted.
“Christopher! Why is your door locked?” my father’s irate voice called out.
I quickly shoved the book under my bed. “I didn’t realise I’d locked it,” I lied, heading for the door. I opened it, getting a stare down from my father. He stepped into my bedroom, looking around it suspiciously, as though he knew I was hiding something.
“I was just studying, Papà,” I said, still unable to look at him. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d thrown me against the wall, preferring avoidance to confrontation.
“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Chris, look at me.”
I glanced up, finding it hard to look at the man I called father. At the man who cared so little about me that he’d thrown me against the wall, banging my head so hard that I’d bled—and not just a little. I also found it hard to look at him, knowing he’d married his own sister. It didn’t matter to me that they weren’t biological siblings, they still came from the same man, regardless of what body my grandfather had been in at the time. And I found it hard to look at him because he was half-demon, something he’d hidden not just from me, but the community we used to live in. Though, I couldn’t blame him for that, because if they knew he was a half-cast, they might have killed him, or at the very least cast him out.
My father exhaled, his breathing sounding loud in the almost silent room. “I’m sorry.”
I blinked, not believing what I was hearing. He never said sorry to me, even when he knew he was wrong.
He continued, “I know those two words aren’t enough, that there’s nothing I can say that’ll make it up to you, but I’ve got to try.” He stepped closer, causing me to take a rapid step back, my reaction automatic, no thought other than instinct kicking in.
A veil of sadness fell over his face. “I’m not going to hurt you, figlio,” he said, his tone pained. “But I understand your reaction. I hate that I lash out at you. Really hate that I give in to the violence that’s bred into me. But I’ll promise you this, I will try to do a lot better by you. Try to hold the demon side of me in check, so it won’t take things too far.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I said, incredulously. “You flung me against the wall. That’s too far.”
Shame crossed my father’s expression. “I’m so very, very sorry.”
“Until the next time I anger you? What will you do then? Beat me? You’ve struck me before, so why not take it a step further?”
He closed his eyes, then reopened them, his irises pitch black. “Please, Chris, please, I’m trying here, trying so hard to do my best for you. Just understand why I am like I am. I hate that I have demon blood. I live with it every day, terrified that it will destroy the people I love. Which is why I try to feed my angel side, making it stronger so I can fight the demon urges that whisper to me. But either way, both sides of me love you.”
“I didn’t think demons could love.”
He shook his head. “Oh, they can love, and even more intensely than an angel. They don’t hold back. Unfortunately, that can come out in wrong ways, obsessive ways. The people demons fixate on are doomed from the start, because, whether the person is interested in the demon or not, the demon will always take them. I’m just lucky your mother loved me back, that your grandfather—”
“Your father. Or do you think of him as a cousin?”
He flinched. “Your mother shouldn’t have told you that. She had no right—”
“I have a right to know where I come from. So answer me, do you consider yourself her brother or cousin?”
“I consider myself her husband.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“We didn’t do this on purpose, Chris.”
“I know she didn’t. She said you bewitched her.”
He flung his hands up in the air. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I wasn’t in control of my powers back then. It just happened. And by the time your mother introduced me to her father, my father, I’d fallen in love with her. I probably wouldn’t even know he’s my father if he hadn’t told me he’d merged with his cousin. Unfortunately, the daughter of his cousin also found out. After this cousin stole the rosary from your grandfather, he took refuge in a church, eventually becoming a priest. Apparently, he forced himself onto a nun, impregnating her with twins, one of them Sister Cecile. When Cecile was eight, she had a vision of her father burning her mother to death after childbirth, which led her to bury the rosary. As a result, all the souls trapped within the rosary’s ruby, including your grandfather’s soul, escaped. He then merged with his cousin, taking over his body.”
“How do you know this?”
“Cecile told me, well, the first part. The imbecile thought your grandfather was a demon. I told her he wasn’t, even explained how merging works, but she refused to listen. She kept going on and on about demon possession, and how it was the only reason her father could’ve possibly murdered her mother.” He shook his head. “She was such a fool, so caught up with her ignorance and hatred, so cloistered, that she couldn’t see past her nose. There was no way she was ever going to stop hounding your grandfather for a crime her father committed. She even tried to use young Merges to kill him, like that girl you’re so fascinated with.”
“Catherine didn’t go after Nonno, he went after her. She wants nothing to do with him or the rosary, but he keeps pushing her.”
“Because Cecile told him she was training the girl to kill him.”
My eyebrows shot up. “She what?!”
“That witch didn’t care how many lives she put at risk, all she cared about was killing your grandfather.”
“So, Nonno killing her was basically self-defence?”
My father shook his head. “I never said he killed her.”
“But he did, didn’t he?”
“No, I did.”