Page 51 of Demonic Cage
“Not even you?”
“Not even me.”
It all makes sense now. The bored, murderous look when Lavian wanted to slit my throat, then the glint in his bronze eyes at my words.You have no idea what language you just spoke, do you?The angel’s voice still echoes in my ear. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. Or not quite. Would I have spoken in the angelic language? I remember how awkward it was to find the words, like my tongue had stumbled over them, but I thought that was just because of the blow to my head.
“So, what am I now? An angel or a demon?”
“Neither. Someone doesn’t become anything just because they have the potential for it, but rather by how dedicated they are to becomingit. You’re the only one I’ve ever known who has the potential for both.”
“So, I can choose to become either a demon or an angel?”
“In theory, yes.”
I gulp hard.
“And in practice?” I whisper, and Darya’s eyes shift from cloud gray to something much darker as he looks at me.
“If you become an angel, we’ll kill you. If you become a demon, the herebias will want to kill you. For now, you are in the wonderful position where both sides want to keep you alive. Until you decide, that is…”
“And what if I never want to choose?”
Darya shrugs.
“You’ll have to within asunturn. That’s a year for you.”
“Why? What happens when that time is up?”
“Let’s just say that this is the part you’re not ready for yet. If you don’t decide within a year, you’ll be useless to both sides. No one will take care of you. Humans can’t live in the Second World. You’ll return to Earth, where they’ll declare you insane and lock you up. Of course, you can pretend you’re not crazy, but the nightmares will haunt you again. If that’s what you want, I understand. Really, what’s a life without nightmares?” he says cheerfully, winking at me.
I furrow my brow, ready to retort, but the words stick in my throat. I dream of Bengt. I dream of Darya, more often than I’d like to admit. But I don’t dream of monsters anymore.
How did I not notice this before?
They’ve been haunting me since childhood, and yet I don’t notice when they disappear? Why?
I look at Darya, whose evil smile reaches to his ears. He rests one hand on his stomach, where I see his sculpted abs through the unzipped jacket. He lies stretched out on the root like a cat. Every fiber of his being focuses on me. He scrutinizes me like a predator, and as he turns his body towards me, my mouth dries up and nervously I grab my hair. Before I lower my gaze, I see the silver streak flickering in Darya’s eyes.
I shake my head.
I can become an angel or a demon, and both sides need me in a year. But what if I’m neither? If I don’t decide and don’t change, I’ll have to go home. They’ll lock me up. Darya said that if I do what I’m meant to do here, I won’t have to worry about it anymore. No more psychiatrists. They won’t declare me crazy.
Because I’m not. I’m not crazy.
“What does it mean to be angel-blooded or demon-blooded? How does someone become one or the other?”
Darya laughs.
“If you were to ask the herebias, they’d say those with hope for good, and are committed to it, become angels. Those in whom evil seeds are sown become demons.”
“And what doyousay?”
“That it’s better to live life knowing the painful truth than to delude yourself with sweet lies.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Next question.”
“Still, how could anyone become either? An angel or a demon?”
