Chained by Darkness (Sensor Series, Book 2.5) Page 6

  “I believe Zadkiel is correct.” Remiel stood up. “More sessions with the psychologist are needed before we can progress any further on this matter.”

  The other archangels nodded their agreement, except Haniel, who still looked too angry to move.

  “We shall reconvene in ten days to finish this,” Remiel announced.

  Lucas bowed his head. Somehow, he was going to have to try harder with Eli—no matter what it cost him.

  Chapter Eight

  “Brought you some sunglasses this time, brother. Didn’t realize it would be so bright in this place,” Eli said, handing them over as soon as the chains were taken off of Lucas’ manacles. The psychologist was wearing beach clothes and sandals again.

  “You should try visiting the inside of the mountain. It might be more to your liking,” Lucas suggested, taking the sunglasses and examining them. He had to admit the psychologist had good taste. The pair he’d given him weren’t the kind someone could pick up from a random gas station or Walmart.

  Lucas nodded his appreciation before putting them on. He knew the real purpose of the sunglasses—to give him something to hide behind while he was forced to spill his guts. Eli might never get on his good side so long as he collaborated with the angels, but Lucas recognized it’d be easier to discuss his past with the nephilim than with one of heaven’s other minions.

  They walked in silence across the long field of sand toward the ocean. Lucas didn’t mind delaying the inevitable for as long as he could. He and Eli turned once they neared the water and headed in the opposite direction they’d gone during their last meeting. They soon passed the location where the portal to earth opened—for those with the right powers to use it. It wasn’t visible while dormant and one had to know where to look to even find it.

  He’d never been allowed past this point before, but it didn’t appear all that different from the other part of the island. A wide stretch of sand took up the space closest to the water with large mountains towering toward the sky after that. Other than some scrub brush, no other plants grew. The occasional boulder and some loose rocks dotted the landscape, but even those did little to break up the barrenness of the place.

  Eli slowed their pace to almost a standstill. “Tell me what you hated most about your father—and be specific. Name calling doesn’t help me much.”

  “No chitchatting first? Updates on the outside world?” Lucas had hoped for a little more time to warm up before having to bare his soul. “I must say I’m disappointed. There must be some kind of intriguing news on what idiotic things the humans are doing while I’m away.”

  Eli shook his head and sighed. “I’m not going to bullshit you. You’re in a world of trouble, and I’m one of the only people who might be able to help you, but you’ve got to give me something to work with, man.”

  Lucas supposed asking about what had happened on the latest Sons of Anarchy episodes would be out of the question. He and Micah had gotten some bonding time in while watching that show before he’d been forced to come to Purgatory.

  “Very well.” Lucas let the silence stretch for a moment. “If you really want to know what I hated most about Gadreel, it would be that he cared for humans more than his own sons.”

  There. He’d just spoken the words that he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about. The bitterness and anger had always been there, but he’d avoided examining the reasons for his feelings too closely.

  Eli shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “How so?”

  Lucas let out a disgruntled noise. Couldn’t they keep this simple?

  “Gadreel spent much of his time preaching to my brother and I about how special humans were and how they must be protected and cherished,” Lucas said, staring at the mountains in the distance. “It never occurred to him that it wasn’t his job anymore to give a shit about the mortals. Heaven had turned its back on him. All his charitable acts in his final years counted for nothing, but that didn’t stop him. The man was a fool.”

  “How exactly did he treat you and your brother?” Eli asked.

  Lucas snorted. “Like unwanted dogs he wished he could put down. He must have hated that we had the immortality he lost. The only reason he didn’t go straight to Hell after falling is because he agreed to raise us first.”

  “I’d wondered why your father was able to stay. Mine was long gone before I was born,” Eli said. He didn’t seem all that upset about it. Maybe the man had some common sense after all.

  “It was an experiment. Nephilim were already causing trouble before my brother and I were born. They’d hoped having guidance from both our parents would make a difference. You’re better off that you didn’t meet yours.” Lucas hated the bitterness that had crept into his voice. He always avoided the subject of his father for this very reason.

  “Can you give me an example of your father’s treatment?”

  Oh, there were many examples, but one stood out in his mind more than all the others. He’d tried to forget about it over the years because it had been the first time he’d seen Gadreel for the man he truly was. Everything had changed with one simple choice on his father’s part. The innocent way Lucas had seen the world before…gone.

  There are moments in one’s life that can put a shadow on the soul. A dark stain that changes a person—for better or worse—and they’re forced to move forward with the certain knowledge that they can no longer trust what they once perceived as truth. When that reality is changed, the only thing one can do is learn from it and do their best to not let it harm them again.

  He’d thought his father cared, but he soon learned it had been nothing more than an act. With his mother gone, there was no one to hold Gadreel accountable for what he did with his sons. The powers that be might pretend to care now, but they hadn’t back then. They’d taken Gadreel’s grace and with each passing year it had warped him into something dark and twisted. The fallen angel might have thought he was following the righteous path, but his sons knew better.

  “You were born after the shift when heaven decided it would be better if humans didn’t know supernatural elements existed, weren’t you?” Lucas asked.

  Eli rubbed his chin. “That happened about a thousand years ago, did it not?”

  “More or less,” Lucas shrugged, “but the exact timing isn’t the issue. What you need to keep in mind is humans were well aware of our presence back when I was growing up.”

  “This was a problem for you?” They’d stopped walking and now faced each other.

  “It was,” Lucas agreed, “because they considered my brother and I outcasts—corrupt and unnatural. As far as they were concerned, we were no better than demon spawn.”

  Lucas turned toward the ocean before continuing. “As you are aware, when nephilim are children they are at their weakest. We lack strength and heal nearly as slowly as humans. We can survive any injury, but that almost makes matters worse. People can make us suffer in ways mortals can’t.”

  “There were those who used this against you,” Eli observed.

  “They did.” Lucas closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reopening them. “One day my father sent Micah out for bread, but when my brother didn’t return after a while he ordered me to go search for him. I found him on the ground covered in blood while every boy in our town threw rocks at him.” Lucas shook his head. Micah was barely conscious by the time he’d reached him. That was the first time he’d seriously considered murder.

  Eli’s jaw tightened. “What did you do?”

  “I grabbed the nearest boy and blackened his eye.” Lucas still remembered the feeling of his knuckles striking the kid. “Once he was down, I went after more of them, but there were too many. I didn’t have the strength to take on what must have been over a dozen kids. Eventually, they had me down on the ground next to my brother—except they didn’t just throw the rocks anymore, they smashed them into our bodies.”

  Lucas’ fists clenched. “Half the town must have stood there watching, but they
did nothing. I still remember the looks of hatred on their faces. They thought we deserved it.”

  He’d always known he and his brother were different. That much couldn’t be missed, but he hadn’t realized how much people resented them for it. Kids will always fight and hurt each other. That will never change. It’s when a child is faced with his own community—in its entirety—abhorring him that he truly feels alone. He’d begged the adults to intervene for him and his brother, but they’d done nothing. Lucas had sworn he’d never beg for anything again.

  “What finally stopped them?” Eli asked.

  “My father arrived.”

  Lucas’ eyes were nearly swollen shut by that time, but he’d never been more grateful to see Gadreel. He’d called out to him and crawled on his hands and knees toward him, looking for the slightest bit of comfort. His father was a former angel and would surely take care of his sons. Protect them from the cruel people abusing them.

  “What did he do?”

  Lucas pushed the sunglasses back up his nose. Sweat from the hot sun beating down had gathered across his face.

  “He went straight to the boys I’d struck and healed them,” Lucas said, working to keep his tone neutral. This had all happened a long time ago and didn’t matter anymore. He had to remember that.

  “Though stripped of his immortality, Gadreel had retained limited use for some of his powers. He used them to take care of the human boys. Only after he finished with them did he turn to us. There wasn’t a trace of sympathy on his face. He stalked over, grabbed us by our broken arms, and dragged us home.” It had been the worst betrayal of Lucas’ life.

  The psychologist remained quiet for a moment, keeping his face averted. “And after that?”

  Astute man. Eli recognized the story didn’t end there. No, it had only begun for Lucas and his brother.

  “That was about six months after our mother had died. I remember because it was summer and a fall from our roof had killed her in the winter.” It had snowed more than usual that year. Gadreel had been away helping others when she needed to clear the roof from some of the extra weight on it. Most homes weren’t built as sturdy back then.

  “Anyway,” Lucas continued, “that was the first time my father had shown what he truly thought of us. While we recovered without the benefit of his healing, he lectured us daily to never strike a human again—no matter what they did to us.”

  “I take it you ignored him.”

  “Naturally. My brother did as he asked, but I didn’t. Those boys had been going after us for months. It just hadn’t been as big of a big spectacle as it was that day.”

  “Did your father catch you again after that?” he asked.

  “Every. Single. Time.” Lucas wanted to hit something just thinking about it. “The boys had figured out my father was on their side so they were quick to tell him about every fight—even when they started it. I didn’t let that stop me. They couldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”

  “In what ways did your father punish you?”

  Lucas gave him a tight smile. “Gadreel could make the beatings the boys gave seem merciful. By the time he finished with me, I was lucky if I could start walking again a month later.”

  He’d starved Lucas too. Micah would sneak him what food he could, but it wasn’t enough. Mostly, he’d been forced to lie on his pallet in a small room at the back of the house with only a candle to keep him company. Every beating from his father took weeks, and more often months, to heal from.

  Over time though, he’d grown to appreciate his solitude. It meant Gadreel was ignoring him. That was a good thing since otherwise he’d be forced to work with his father for long hours each day repairing human homes—without payment.

  “You never stopped fighting even through all of that?” Eli asked.

  “No, I just got more adept at taking the pain and turning it back on others. The boys didn’t stop attacking us even after they reached adulthood. It left me little choice but to get better at fighting so no one could hurt us anymore.”

  Eventually those boys paid the ultimate price, but that came much later.

  Eli sighed. “I’m beginning to see why you turned out the way you did.”

  Lucas had nothing to say to that. The more he brought up the old memories, the more he saw how they had shaped him. He’d lived in a world where being strong was the only way to survive. Why should he apologize for doing what he had to do? His father never understood that treating the humans kindly wouldn’t change their opinions.

  “Do you still see all humans the way you did back then?” Eli raised his brows.

  “Yes.”

  The psychologist shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not all humans are like the ones from back then. It was a different time. You can’t hold a grudge against the entire race forever.”

  That sounded like something Melena would say, but even now she still hated most supernaturals. Everyone had their biases whether they chose to see them or not. At least he freely admitted his.

  “Humans haven’t changed all that much. Racism still abounds among them, strong as ever,” Lucas replied.

  He’d seen enough of it throughout his time to know. Whenever he’d joined a human war—which was one of the rare times the angels seemed to look away from what he was up to—he usually fought on the side he believed to be persecuted. He understood what it was like to be hated for what you were born as. It didn’t mean he grew to like the humans he fought with, but it gave him an excuse to kill their opponents.

  “Do you hate sensors the same way?”

  Lucas could see where the psychologist was going with this one, but he still had no choice but to answer. This being cooperative bullshit was beginning to wear on his patience. “I hate most of them.”

  “But not Melena?”

  Or Emily, a teenager Melena took under her wing late last year. He’d grown rather fond of the little brat and would protect her in any way he could. Very few knew the fifteen-year old was a sensor as well. She’d be even more vulnerable than Melena if the wrong people ever found out.

  “I think you know the answer to that.” Lucas gave Eli a scornful look.

  “Why?” he asked, cocking his head. “What is different about her compared to the others?”

  He was definitely not bringing up Emily. Eli’s psychologist mind would be all atwitter knowing Lucas had two sensors he cared about. The best he could do was give the psychologist something on Mel and hope the foolish man moved on to another topic before Lucas lost what patience he had left.

  “If I hadn’t been forced to protect Melena for so long, I probably would have been tempted to kill her. She tested my patience from the moment I met her and fought me at every turn, but…she’s a survivor. I understand that more than most and I respect it. She’s going to get stronger with time, the same as I did, and I hope to be there to watch what she becomes.”

  Eli’s lips tilted up. “It sounds like she reminds you of a younger version of yourself, though I’ve heard she prefers to target wayward supernaturals rather than humans.”

  Lucas shrugged. “If they were killed by her hand, they probably deserved it.”

  “You know,” Eli put his hands in his pockets, “there are humans out there you could respect just as well, if you gave them the chance.”

  “Perhaps, but why bother?”

  He generally preferred to avoid them altogether when he wasn’t participating in one of their wars. It made it easier if he could ignore their existence.

  “You know, my brother, for someone who professes to be against racism so much, you sure do practice it a lot.”

  Logic. It could get you every time, but he preferred to cut it down with a sword.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucas hadn’t rested from his session with Eli for long before Kerbasi roused him. The guardian prodded him out of his cell in a way that made him think he was in a hurry—as if there was ever anything all that important to do around this place. Grabbing hold of Lucas’ arm,
he rushed him down a series of familiar tunnels.

  “You’re taking me to the arena.”

  Kerbasi glanced at him without breaking his stride. “How astute of you, nephilim.”

  “You didn’t bring any of the others. Who am I supposed to fight, if not them?” Lucas had always been forced to battle whoever the guardian had on hand at the time. He’d been hoping for a chance to teach Zoe a lesson. She was older and stronger than him, but having others do her dirty work had made her inept at fighting.

  “Your race isn’t the only one kept prisoner here.” Kerbasi’s eyes twinkled. “All immortals, except those born as humans, are subject to the same rules and punishments as nephilim. We simply choose to keep each race separated.”

  In the near two-thousand years Lucas had been coming here, he’d never realized there were others imprisoned inside the mountains. How many more secrets did this place hide?

  “That doesn’t answer my question about who I’ll be fighting, guardian.”

  Kerbasi guided him to a chamber not far from the arena entrance. A stone slab was the only furniture in the room. The guardian grabbed an earthenware pitcher from on top of it and poured water into a similarly crafted mug. He thrust it out and urged him to drink.

  Lucas examined the water carefully, but found nothing wrong. The sight of it intensified the dryness in his mouth. He’d have to take the risk. It’d been several days since he’d had the few handfuls of water from the spring and that hadn’t been enough. He lifted it to his lips, and after a cautious taste, chugged it down. Kerbasi took it away as soon as he lowered it, and refilled the mug with more water.

  “Another guardian and I are having a minor dispute,” he said, breaking the silence. “I need you to settle it.”

  Lucas finished emptying the mug a second time and handed it back. “You want me to fight another guardian?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kerbasi scoffed. “Adiran has one of his own prisoners for you to fight.”