Bladed Wings (13 page)

              “I wanted to talk to you. It’s about the angel.”

              “How is young Jennifer Morgado?”

              “She’s fine, but I wanted to know something. About her, about angels.”

              “What?”

              “Do they have abilities like us?”

              “It depends on whether or not they’ve awakened, if they’ve taken conscious control of their souls. It’s possible for an angel’s soul to grow inside a human for an entire lifetime without the individual learning what she or he carries. Other times, yes, the human figures it out and that can grant certain—advantages.”

              “Like what?”

              “Abilities that are generally on par with our own. Except for Angel Fire.”

              “The soul?” Timothy asked.

              “A pedestrian way to describe it, but yes. Open an angel’s soul and it’ll incinerate every demon within a couple hundred feet.”

              “What kind of powers?”

              “Did she do something?”

              “I don’t think so,” Timothy said. “Well, I hope not. I had to ask.”

              Patient, Cordinox said, “An awakened angel can do almost anything we can. Granted, the applications will be very different. They create fields of energy not too different from the shadows you wield. Then some of them fly. Others can translate through space like me. Occasionally you’ll get a shape shifter like Isis. Some are strong like Morgon. And healers are far more common among them than us.”

              “What about manipulation?”

              “Some angels know how to control humans’ emotions, but it’s a skill we’re far better at. Of course, that might just be because demons tend to enjoy that control quite a bit more. Some of us even sparked a few crusades. What have you seen?”

              “So if someone falls in love with an angel?”

              “It could be nothing but design, lines of energy not particularly different from those made of air and language. A lie’s a lie, they say. Or it could be nothing more than one individual interested in the other. Why do you ask?”

              “I have feelings for her.” Timothy only told the demon because he was sure that Cordinox already knew. Everyone seemed to know, which made Timothy wonder if he shouldn’t try to learn how lie better.

              “That’s clear. So now you’re wondering if they’re real?”

              “Yes.”

              “You could kill her. Her death would give you an answer. Once dead, her hold would be broken. But then again, if she ever learned how to unleash her soul, she’d kill you in seconds. So I guess you get to decide what you’ll do like everyone else.”

              “That’s not very helpful.”

              “If her second soul is still asleep, then she’s probably not controlling you.”

              “Probably?”

              “We’re talking about souls. Scientists haven’t given us many good answers.”

              “I used my abilities before I knew about them. Could she?”

              “That was a life or death situation. Unless she’s really evil and has managed to silence her soul—something that happened quite a bit more often than the angels have you believe—then you’re probably okay. But in the meantime, you still don’t get a perfect answer.”

              “Hi Timothy.”

              “Isis,” Cordinox said to the girl the younger demon, “Would you make sure he finds his way out safely.” Timothy turned to go, but stopped when he heard, “And Timothy, make sure she stays safe. Despada can’t find her.”

              “I’ll keep her safe.”

              “Good. It would be sad if an angel soul got eaten by a lioness like Depsada. Especially because then she’d come and eat the rest of us.”

              Walking through the darkened passages between mountains of wooden crates, Timothy wasn’t thinking about much except Jenny. She could have made him fall in love with her, but that would have been an accident. It would have been instinct. He’d talked to Jeremiah, now Cordinox, and he just came to one answer: it didn’t matter.

              Timothy got exactly how stupid this was. But his feelings felt real, and that was good enough. He loved her. He chose to love her. Even if he didn’t get a choice.

              “Do you feel bad?” Isis asked.

              “About what?”

              “Being a demon.”

              “It hasn’t changed my life that much,” Timothy told the truth. “So I guess it’s okay.”

              “You don’t think you’re evil?”

              “I don’t seem to be,” Timothy said.

              “But it could be more subtle.”

              “I guess.”

              “You would have made a terrible priest.”

              “Yeah. That’s true.”

              “Sometimes I don’t like it,” Isis said as they stepped back into daylight. The clouds were infinite and white overhead, like the sky wasn’t supposed to have color. The air was cold, but Isis didn’t shiver ever as Timothy buried his hands in his coat pockets.

              “Being a demon?”

              “It’s scary.”

              “Were you ever a human?”

              “No,” Isis shook her head. “I made this body when I was born.”

              “But you feel bad about it? About being a demon?”

              “Sometimes,” she said. “Did Erzu tell you about what it means to be demonic? Even the word sounds mean. And I don’t want to be mean.”

              “Mean?”

              “Yeah. I don’t want to be mean.”

              “Can’t you just choose not to be?”

              “I don’t know. Do you believe in human nature? I know most people think of demons and we have to be evil because we’re the ones running around with pitchforks, impregnating all of the virgins and spreading the plagues. And there could be some truth to that. But humans do terrible stuff too. You guys came up with mutually assured destruction, internet trolls, and printed warnings on hot coffee. That didn’t have anything to do with us. But it’s like we have to be evil because we’re a bunch of demons.”

              “I believe you get to choose.”

              “Did you choose to love your angel? You know, the one whose soul would fry you?” Isis asked, her hands together. She sounded shy and innocent, someone who couldn’t become a rhino and squish anyone in her way.

              “No,” Timothy ignored the second part of her question, “But I can decide what I want to do about it.”

              “Sure. So do you believe in human nature?”

              “I’m not sure. There are so many of us. It’s hard to know for sure.”

              “Demons do. We have a nature. We’re creatures of love, just like angels.”

              “Cordinox mentioned that,” Timothy said, trying to remember what their leader said.

              “Self-love. We love ourselves, nothing but ourselves. We look into ourselves all the time because nothing else matters. Everything else is superficial. Relationships die. Everything dies and changes. But we can hold onto ourselves, shifting, but confident we’re real.”

              They stepped outside. Timothy’s car waited for him, but he stopped and wanted to know, “What do angels look at?”

              “They see beauty when they explore the world. That’s why they can love others so totally.” Isis got quiet. “It’s easier for them, I think.”

              “And how do you feel?”

              “Maybe I’m just scared I don’t know what I’ll be. I’ve never been in a real war. Erzu makes sure we don’t get into fights we can’t win. He’s strong that way.” Isis paused and nibbled her lip. “Maybe I’ll feel differently after a real battle.”

              “Maybe,” Timothy said, getting into his car. He had a date as a third wheel.

The first ninety percent of the night passed easily. They saw another movie, and again Terrance picked where they’d eat. Timothy tried to focus on the movie even as he felt very much like a jerk because he hoped Terrance would let his relationship disintegrate under the weight of his personality. If he’d been smarter, Timothy might’ve asked why Terrance kept everything to himself. Instead, he just hoped and tried to pretend that hoping didn’t make him the world’s worst human ever. The movie was decent, though most of Timothy’s attention was on Jenny and the way she scrunched away from Terrance’s hand. In the dimmed light of the movie’s glow, Jenny could’ve been confused or irritated.

              Then there was the restaurant. It was a trendy place over on Howe Avenue, one of the big streets that fed Sac State the mass of commuters that made up the student body. When they first got there, the buzz of patrons pressed around them. By the time their food got there, Timothy had to shout for Terrance and Jenny to hear him.

              Terrance talked to Timothy and pretty much ignored Jenny. She watched the conversation, but she looked like a scout or a scientist, someone who wanted to understand what was happening in front of her. They jumped conversations about investment strategies to the greatest beer to the best way to die. That last one came from Terrance. Timothy wasn’t good at reading people, but he thought Terrance was nervous, trying to overcompensate for something. Each word came out a little too fast. Jenny’s boyfriend sounded nervous.

              “I vote drowning,” Terrance said.

              “Why?”

              “I don’t know, something to do with going into the water. Seems scary.”

              “And you want your death to be scary?” Timothy asked.

              “I’m brave that way.”

              “There are other words for it.”

              “How would you want to die?”

              Timothy thought about that for a second, “Saving someone. I think it would be cool. Some big and noble sacrifice sounds fun.”

              “Hero?”

              “Not really. Just a good way to make sure my life meant something.”

              “So rather than recycle or volunteer or something, you want the big gesture?”

              “It’s one way to go,” Timothy said.

              Feeling rich, Timothy ordered one of the desserts: a Chocolate Blossom. He didn’t know what that meant until he saw the bowl of ice-cream lined with thin strips of chocolate. It was expensive and not bad. Nothing came from Jenny until they were half way through their dessert. She just watched him to that point when she asked, “Where are you from, Timothy?”

              “I’ve lived in Sacramento for the last few years. My family moved here when I was five.”

              “From where?”

              “Las Vegas, actually.”

              “That must’ve been fun,” Terrance said.

              “And who was your fourth grade teacher?” she asked.

              “Mrs. Hollands?” Timothy guessed, his head tilted a little as he tried to figure out why she’d care. Then he saw the look on Terrance’s face.

              “Do you have a favorite movie?” she asked.

              “I do.”

              “What is it?”

              “I’d rather not say that one.”

              “What about you?” she asked and turned to Terrance. “What’s your favorite movie?”

              “Don’t have one. There are too many good ones out there.”

              “How about something else then?”

              “What’s your favorite?” Terrance smiled with all of the confidence of someone who owned nukes and had a million fans.

              “Oh no. You don’t get to do that. What’s your favorite movie?”

              “C’mon Jenny, do we really have to do this?”

              “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why won’t you tell me anything about yourself?”

              “I like being mysterious,” Terrance spoke like that was a good time for sarcasm. Timothy felt himself scoot back when he saw the heat of anger sizzle along Jenny’s features.

“One thing. C’mon, just one,” she demanded, and that was the first time Timothy heard her voice with a vein of anger. Jenny didn’t do rage. Somehow it was scarier than the demons he’d fought. “Share something. Anything.” She said it like she was talking to a picture, someone who wasn’t really there.

              “Let’s just relax.”

              “Sure,” Timothy added, though he couldn’t keep a little bit of his own skepticism out of his voice. Part of him said he should try to put them back together. It would be the right thing to do. They deserved to be happy. Then another part said that he shouldn’t do anything, and he reminded himself it technically wasn’t any of his business. So he asked about midterms. Terrance talked some more, relieved to get away from his girlfriend’s interrogation, while Jenny fell back into quiet.