a creeper.
“Fuck, how long have you been standing there like the king of pervs?” I demand, reaching around to rub my smarting wing. I try not to flinch at the feel of feathers against my hand, but I don’t succeed. Fuck. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this.
Ew.
I pull my hand away, and luckily, there’s no blood, so I guess that’s a good thing. I doubt leaving my blood cells behind in a place like this would be a good thing. Who knows what could happen? I don’t trust this Lanky fucker.
“So what’s going to happen to me now?” I ask my audience of one, not at all expecting that he’ll answer me.
He looks pretty determined to just stand there and creep me out, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m on board with not being down here alone. Slap my ass and call me misery, because company—whether silent and voyeuristic or not—is better than nothing.
I notice that he doesn’t have a chair, so either he’s an epic stander or he’s not planning on being down here for too long. I try not to think about what that means for me.
“Next time your friends come to you and say, hey let’s pop down into Hell real quick. It’ll be fun and totally fine, don’t believe anything they say. Run as far away from them as you can. And if you’re being attacked by Outer Ring demons like I always am, stick with your posse. But overall, just say no to Hell,” I advise him.
He doesn’t crack a smile, and even trying to joke about the other Gate Guardians hurts my heart. I shake my head and try to get comfortable on the morgue table that’s doubling as a bed.
“I have an idea,” I announce. “I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions. You can stay perfectly still and creeptastic. If I’m right, you can snort, and if I’m wrong, then you can blink twice or something. Okay?”
Lanky just stares at me blankly.
“Perfect, that’s exactly right, I’m so glad you got the rules of the game so fast,” I encourage sarcastically.
“Okay, first question, am I still in Hell?”
I study his face, but he’s got this stony thing nailed. I nod like answers are just pouring off of him.
“Okay, still in Hell, good to know. This next one is a little harder...am I in Nihil?
Nothing. Hmm.
“Am I somewhere else?”
Lanky sniffs, and my eyes widen. I spring up from my lunch tray bed and stare at him excitedly. “So I am in Nihil?”
“I didn’t say that. I just had to sniff,” he defends, his Irish lilt making his words sound more appealing than they are.
“Did you really?” I challenge. “Okay, so I’m in Hell. I’m in Nihil, which means that I am a Nihil?” I recount to myself as if that’s going to help everything connect. “But how? Jerif said that it was impossible.”
“Who’s Jerif? Is that who helped you break into Tazreel’s house?” Lanky asks.
“Tazreel?” I ask. “Is that the name of Not-God with the blond wings and hair and a Gaston complex?”
Lanky stares at me, unmoving.
“Tazreel…” I repeat again, like saying the name will jog my memory. “Nope, no idea who that is. And no one helped me break in anywhere; I fell through the Ring portal and woke up in that creepy white room,” I supply. “Blame the Gate, not me.”
“Everyone knows Tazreel,” Lanky argues, like he’s not buying my defense at all. “He was part of the original wave of Abdicated. Everyone knows that.”
“Abdicated?”
Why did I know that word? I quickly recall the blond winged dude claiming he was one, but that isn’t it. I’m pretty sure one of the guys used the term before, I just can’t quite remember.
“Yes,” he says, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Tazreel is one of the angels who left Heaven.”
Understanding dawns on me, and I look at Lanky excitedly as I piece it together. “Holy shit, the blond dude is a Fallen Angel?”
“Abdicated, not Fallen Angel. No one fell from anywhere. Fallen…” He snorts, like the thought is ludicrous.
I stare at Lanky as my mind wraps itself slowly around what this all means. I’m in Nihil, the Center Ring of Hell, where only the Abdicated and very powerful live. I have wings. I shiver. And I’ve been hidden from the demon world my whole life up until now…
“Shit, am I the Anti-Christ?” I ask, shocked. “I mean, I don’t feel like I want to burn