Page 114 of Lourdes & the Mafia
It’s Ramiel in a suit of white. Ramiel cloaked in a golden-white hue like sunlight beaming down from the heavens.
It’s Ramiel with wings. Beautiful golden wings spanned out from his shoulder blades, each feather a glowing, bright thing that rustles with the wind.
He’s glorious, like something from a fantasy or a dream.
He flies through the clouds with powerful strokes of his wings. As terrifying and as revered as a deity.
Something shifts, though. He stops mid-wing stroke. Lightning crackles along the sky. The clouds roll into a dark storm. A crack sounds. Not lightning. Not thunder.
Something worse.
Ramiel’s back bows, and the scream of agony he releases sends a chill down my entire body. His wings fold across his back, black veins spreading through gold.
And then he falls.
He hurtles through the ground, falls to the earth. It shakes the world, a crater forming on the floor where he hits. When his eyes open, there are no longer wings at his back but shadows at his feet and the promise of hell at his fingertips.
I suck in a painful breath. The vision clears from my mind like a dense fog dispersing. I blink, finding Ramiel’s gaze, wondering if he sent me that image himself. But… no. No. I did that. I pulled that vision to the surface. My magic did something it’s never done before.
It saw into the past.
“Why did you fall?”
His jaw tightens. He looks away then back to me with fire in his eyes. “Because I would not adhere to the rules of the heavens.” He leans forward, the move prowling and dangerous, and a flash of shadows reveals a hint of wings framing his body before they disappear. “Because I wanted my own empire.”
I visibly shiver and his eyes track the movement.
“Are you afraid of me now, vidente? Does it frighten you to know what I once was? What I now am?”
“And what exactly are you?”
He smiles. “I am the angel of death.”
“Okay. Is that all?”
He blinks, taken back by my response. “What do you mean?”
“Please,” I snort. “Yeah, you’re frightening, but you don’t frighten me, Ramiel. I knew your magic was tied with death, now I know why.” My gaze goes to Lorenzo and Kane. “What about the two of you? Are you angels?”
“No,” Kane replies, a curl of disdain on his lips. “We are demons. The firstborn demons of the Underworld.”
Lorenzo flashes a dashing smile. “Born from pain, torture, and sin. Created to rule over The Pit and the Land of Lament. To aid the angel of death and rule over the Underworld. Brothers,” he adds. “Not by blood, but by something far more important.”
“Interesting…” My curiosity is piqued. Naomi always lectures me for how curious I am, but I can’t help it. “So demons are made, not… born? You can’t have kids?”
“Not necessarily.” Ramiel speaks slowly. “Demons cannot give birth or father children with other demons. Every demon in the Underworld was born from cruel acts, though not from a womb. And the Underworld is endless, to hold them all.”
“It is up to us to not only reside over souls, but also the demons. To make sure they do not escape the Underworld and ravage women up top and create hybrid children. Much to our generals’ disdain.” Lorenzo rolls his eyes.
“Generals?”
“Demons born after us and below us in rank. Powerful in their own right, those three, but all too desperate for the white picket fence life.”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting love,” I rise to their defense feeling annoyance flicker over me. I’m sure people have judged me plenty for wanting that, too. For wanting a life full of love and acceptance; things I scarcely got myself.
“There is when they try to break the rules and drag unsuspecting human women into their dens.”
“Oh.”
