Page 3 of Demon Touched

He must have not spoken to Aster yet.

My heart aches a little at the thought of the terse note I left her. She was so generous with her friendship, and I was so cold, so final in my goodbye.

But this is the way it has to be, if I’m ever to feel in control of myself again. Since finding out I was nephilim, I knew the ephilium would claim me if I revealed my heritage. And if they accept me as one of them, they’ll train me in how to use my power. Then maybe I can get so strong that Syrus can’t control me anymore, whether the possession link remains or not. It’s probably too much to hope that I might be able to destroy the magic connecting us completely—I don’t think dealing with sorcery is much in the ephilium’s skill set, even if I could just come out and ask them how one might go about severing a possession link to their toxic demon lover.

There’s plenty of ephilium around the rift now, including several soldiers standing to attention thanks to Pellery’s arrival. I eye them. Old habits die hard, and it’s not easy to shake the feeling I should be watching my back right now. In Infernum, I had Syrus’s protection, in Pax I had the Concords; now I have neither, and it makes me feel unexpectedly vulnerable.

At first glance, ephilium don’t look nearly as inhuman as most demons do, aside from the wings, of course. But only an idiot would think they’re harmless. Most of them are tall and well built, with strong jaws and stronger-looking hands. The natural result of generations of warriors having strapping warrior babies, probably. They’re certainly all wearing enough weapons to look the part.

They turn their best and brightest into fighting machines who only love war.

Not my words—his. Syrus said that of the ephilium once, and I hate that even with him shut out of my mind, the echo of him remains, tainting my thoughts.

“Sergeant.” Pellery approaches one of the soldiers stationed beside the rift. “I need an escort to the Seraph Seat.”

My stomach twists with unease, but the captain explained there would be an official protocol if I wanted to be recognized as a child of Aradis. I suppose it makes sense that the ephilium rulers like to be informed of little things like gaining a new part-human citizen.

The soldier ducks his head deferentially to Pellery, even as his eyes flick over me, curious.

“I should probably warn you there’s a muster today, Captain,” he says.

Pellery slides a glance in my direction too, then seems to make a decision, nodding firmly. “Good. Then it’s a perfect time to bring her before the seraphim.”

Pellery seemed pleased, if cautious, when I found her at the rift, announced myself as nephilim, and managed to conjure up enough lightning to prove my claim. I also left a nasty scorch mark on the nearest bit of fence, but that didn’t bother her much. Instead, she told me she knew I’d be back, that her sight had told her. Which maybe explains why she let me go so easily when she caught me trespassing by the rift before.

She beckons me closer now while making a gesture I don’t understand to the soldier.

“We’ll take her cuffed,” Pellery says to them, so calmly I don’t immediately understand.

“Wait—” I don’t get any more words out before I’m being surrounded, my hands yanked forward and encircled in a tight set of irons forcing my palms flat together.

“What the fuck?” I snarl at Pellery, jerking at my wrists, but my anger is mostly masking fear. “I trusted you. Is this why you agreed to bring me here—to take me prisoner?”

My heart thuds as I frantically eye the soldiers around me, hemmed in by their broad, armored chests and looming white wings. It’s possible I’ve just got myself into an even bigger mess than I was in before. Not that I was exactly expecting everyone to welcome me as their long-lost sister in this place—but I figured my treatment would fall somewhere between fraternal bonding and locking me up.

“I’m sorry,” Pellery says as I pointlessly struggle against my cuffs. “But we have to make sure you’re not a threat.”

“A threat? How?” I demand, but she only gives me a tight shake of her head.

“We’ll discuss that when you get to the Seraph Seat. If you don’t have anything to hide, you’ll be fine.” Her voice is steady and authoritative, but there’s a softness around her eyes that gives me hope. She seems sympathetic, which means she doesn’t believe I’m an enemy. That’s something, at least, even if it doesn’t wash away the sense of betrayal. “Don’t bother trying to channel your lightning in those cuffs,” she warns me. “You probably won’t be able to summon anything with your hands bound like that, and if you can, you’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

I just glare at her as two of the soldiers—a man and woman—move to flank me, each wedging an arm under my own. My heart beats faster as I realize exactly how this escort of mine is going to travel. It’s stupid; I’ve flown before. Syrus carried me across Malice a bunch of times, but I’m surprised by how much less secure I feel now in comparison. Even back when I thought he only wanted me alive so I could work for him, I still felt safe with him.

Clearly, I shouldn’t have.

“I hope your grip is as tight as these cuffs,” I manage to throw at the soldiers before they take off, dragging me into the air.

The cool air whips the hair back from my face as we rise, soaring over the bridge and banking at an angle to climb above the streets of the city. At first, I try to focus on what I can see of Luminis. The streets are wider around the middle section, then start narrowing again as we move higher. It looks cleaner than Pax, though I can’t help but think it’s all too neat. I’ve heard it doesn’t rain much here, and I can’t see many gardens. Barely any plants at all, actually. There’s not much color in general. It seems sad after my time spent among Infernum’s vibrancy.

That thought makes my stomach twist in a way that definitely doesn’t help my nerves. Pellery is keeping close, so I call out to her, hoping that will distract me from the fact I’m totally at the mercy of the soldiers holding me above the deadly drop.

“Are you at least going to tell me what I’m walking into? What is a ‘muster’?”

She slows the beat of her wings, falling back a little so she draws parallel with my escort.

“It’s a gathering of the city’s officials,” she explains. “They report to the seraphs on matters in Luminis and raise any important issues.”

I blink, the wind making my eyes water. “So when you say it’s a perfect time to see them, do you mean for me or for those of you who think I might be a threat?” I ask.