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“Thanks,” I say. They mean well, I think. They’re just all absolutely off their heads with ideologies. “I’m not ashamed.”
“Good,” Anita smiles. She truly does not give a fraction of a fuck. I find her more relatable than most here. It seems to me that there’s a possibility she could be an ally. Nina is too head over heels for Bryn and too legitimately convinced that she’s an angel.
There’s a kind of awkward silence, in which it seems to occur to us all at the same time that we have nothing in common besides being the bedmates of the men who are discussing business in another room.
“What’s the plan here,” I ask, breaking the silence. “Do you have plans for your lives, or…”
“Well, I’m technically sort of wanted for murder,” Anita says. “So I keep a low profile.”
“I’m happy at the moment with how things are,” Nina replies. “It’s nice to finally be able to rest somewhere and call it home.”
“So Bryn and Thor aren’t trying to turn you two into demon slayers?”
“No!” Anita laughs. “Thor’s had enough of me slaying things to last a lifetime, and Bryn wouldn’t stand for Nina being in anything that looked like danger.”
“He’s very protective,” Nina agrees.
“There’s a computer bank upstairs that I’m using to track demonic activity,” I say. “Cosmos is going to teach me how to slay them.”
The girls are interested in that revelation, especially Anita. “Is it wrong if I also want to slay demons? I am a demon, so I suppose it would be batting against my own team. It’s strange how many demons there are in an anti-demon organization.”
“Very strange,” I agree.
“I think you’ll feel better when you discover what your angel power is,” Nina insists. “Maybe we can help you find it.”
“Maybe Crichton can help her. Crichton showed me Hell. And he saved me from it. He really doesn’t get enough credit. Let’s call him,” Anita suggests.
Crichton appears once summoned. Via bell, not by an arcane ceremony.
“How may I help you ladies?”
He’s so easy to ignore. He has such a plastic face; not plastic like the material, plastic in the way his features are always generic and never quite the same. I wonder if he’s still the same man I met on the first day here, or if his demon features mean nobody will ever really know what he looks like. I can’t work out why a demon would sit around serving humans tea and scones, and occasionally frightening the hell out of the odd girl who fails to properly believe in things that catch fire in the head. I find myself staring at him with more curiosity than ever.
But it’s Nina who has the question.
“Crichton, how can Elise find her angel powers?”
His expression remains impassive. “I believe what you are describing is a manifestation of the divine, and it cannot be predicted.”
“So you don’t know?” Nina sounds very disappointed.
“Nobody knows. Nobody can know. Manifestations of angelic power are not chosen or handed out like perks. They’re rare, even among those of the blood. Merely having angelic parentage does not guarantee that one is special. A child born to two geniuses might only be of average intelligence. A child born of an angel might be merely human.”
“Oh.” Nina’s face falls. She was really hoping I’d be able to make rainbows come out of my ass or similar, I think. I feel a little bad for her. I think she’s lonely. She wants someone like her to relate to, but that’s not going to happen.
“That’s okay,” I say. “I have a pretty nice life as a normal human anyway. Or I did, before I was attacked and kidnapped and made to leave my life behind.”
There’s another one of those awkward silences.
Crichton smiles patiently. “Very few brides have come to Direview of their own accord, and many have been unhappy here.”
“But?”
“Oh. There’s no but,” he says. “I tell the truth. I believe it is the least you deserve.”
Anita lets out a snorting laugh. “Yeah, you’re not going to get any uplifting words of comfort from Crichton.”
This is all so very British.
“Maybe I could have something to drink. Something strong.”
“A brandy, perhaps, madame?”
“Yes. Whatever. Perfect.”
A glass of amber liquid is delivered into my hand. I drink deeply and follow that with a deep breath. Neither one of those things really helps. What I am trying to de-stress about can’t be solved with a little alcohol and breathing exercises.
“My mother escaped Direview,” Nina says solemnly. “But she never really got away. And in the end, here I am. This place inexorably draws the people who are meant to be here.”
“Because of some angel who couldn’t keep his celestial dick in his pants?” I say. “Let’s say that’s real and true. Even if it was, why should it decide our lives? So what if you’re a little bit angel, or demon, or just plain human? You should be able to live the life you choose, not spend it in this rotting old place. The world is out there, not in here.”
