me, I can feel Jerif walk just a little closer, his comforting warmth at my back.
It helps. A little.
We’re escorted toward the castle entrance, but just when I get curious about what it will look like inside, we’re directed toward a door at the end of one of the long white buildings instead. It’s like they’re teasing us with the castle’s stunning opulence. It’s a very you can look but not touch move on their part.
Well, screw them then, the one at Disneyland is probably better anyway.
The room we’re led into is clean and nice. It’s not hard to figure out that their decorator had a massive hard-on for all things white. The floors are pristine marble, and the couches and chairs appear to be somewhat comfortable looking leather. There are mirrors on the wall, and I quickly question if they’re two-way mirrors and we’re being spied on already. There are white end tables and coffee tables anchoring the sofas and chairs into two seating areas across from each other.
Taz walks in and chooses a large white chair to park his ass in like he’s the king and has now designated the seat as his throne.
“Any cherub wine available?” he asks, looking as comfortable as ever.
The ebony-skinned angel eyes him for a moment. “The Major will be with you shortly,” she snips, and then just like that, our entire escort marches out, the door shutting behind them.
I listen for a click, assuming they’re going to lock us in here, but one never comes. I round on Tazreel. “What the hell is going on?” I demand. “Did you fuck an angel or something? Why the hell would the scythe bring us here?”
Tazreel’s face goes utterly offended when I ask about his angel proclivities, and he looks at the guys like he fully expects them to be offended on his behalf too. “I beg your pardon, but I would never,” he defends.
I have no idea why he’d be so offended about this. In the short time I’ve known the guy, I’ve learned that neither pixies nor flowers are off-limits, so what would be the issue with an angel?
“Like I said before, the elixir would take us to your mother or someone in your bloodline who can tell us where she is. That’s clearly what happened here. And before you go getting all judgy, the Abdicated were part of Heaven before we made the sacrifice for the greater good and established the realms of consequence—aka Hell. So it’s possible that your mother, who I’m sure is a perfectly respectable demon, has relatives on this side of things.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Turning to my demons. “I thought you guys said that Heaven and Hell got along? That is not the impression I just got. Those white-winged fuckers were staring us down like they were imagining skewering us.”
“We do get along, in the sense that we’re both working toward the same goal. Both sides want the betterment and growth of all souls so they can claim their divine right if so desired. But keep in mind that both sides have different views on how best to accomplish that,” Iceman explains.
“That looked like more than issues with a difference in opinion,” I grumble.
“That’s because they’re all fresh meat,” Jerif adds. “Think about the mortal military, for example. Kids join the service and they’re all gung-ho, convinced that what they’re fighting for is right. They’re filled with pride and sure of their convictions. Now take that same kind and fast forward five years. They’re more seasoned, more lethal, and most importantly, more experienced. They know that not everything is so black and white. They’ve seen some shit. They get that both sides of a battle are just fighting for what they believe. They’re still proud and honorable, but with time, they’re wiser.”
He nods his head in the direction of the door.
“Out there are the new recruits, training and getting ready for their first posts. All they see is the light right now, the end goal. They’ll of course look at us like we’re in their way, like our existence somehow taints what their ultimate purpose is. But see what they’re like in a century or two. They’ll get it then. They’ll realize the need for the dark in order to properly see the light,” he finishes, and surprisingly, that makes a ton of sense to me.
“Cocky little shits if you ask me,” Tazreel observes, and I just laugh.
“I think that’s a