4

Cold.

The new t-shirt, gifted to me by the guards, did little to protect me from the freezing room I was being held in. Waiting. Just waiting.

I wrapped my arms around my body and kept my palms tightly shut. No gloves either. I couldn’t remember all that happened. When I came to, peacekeepers were escorting me from a car and into the station. After a brief medical exam, basically ensuring I wasn’t broken or bleeding, I was brought to the pod. A captured criminal.

My company consisted of harsh faces. We all wore the same plain white shirts. The humans occupying the room next to us wore gray. Which meant, they already knew I wasn’t human.

Fucking great.

My aunt and I discussed a fail-safe in the event that I was ever captured but it usually ended with her getting frustrated, admitting failure, and insisting that I needed to never let it happen.

Oops.

I had no idea when she’d come back for me.

If she came for me, but I didn’t want to think about that. She always had her secrets but she cared about me. We were family. Naomi always wanted to protect me. She’d come back…

I kept to myself at a table in the back corner. Not everyone in the pod looked hostile. Some eyed me cautiously while others hissed or gazed into oblivion, distracted by their various narcotics.

Also upon waking up, I noticed a mild surge cycling through my body. Everything that hurt before had healed up, but something new awakened inside me. The scattered, destructive chaos. It cooked that monster right in front of me and continued to taunt me with a soft drumming, like a second beating heart.

I had no clue what to do about it or when it would strike again. Had the power been my own, something all demons had? I doubted anyone in my current vicinity had the answers.

Guards brought in a half-turned werewolf next, frothing at the mouth and jerking at his restraints. One of the guards jammed something in his arm. A loud yelp pierced the room and he reverted back into a human. They assisted him into a chair, docile thanks to whatever drug the guards were equipped with.

I wanted to avoid attention completely. Especially getting poked by anything. So, I kept to my corner. The room filled with more bodies that reeked of sour booze, sweat, blood, and wet dog. Guards would take people outside and never bring them back. I assumed they received their new, permanent cells.

It wasn’t the fear of death that seized me but being locked in a cage for eternity. Naomi said, while not immortal on Terra’s plane, demons still had superior lifespans to humans. Imagine, multiple life sentences. At what point would I wish for death?

I fought the urge to cry; not wanting to appear weak. Twenty-one and unregistered wasn’t a good look for me. Anyone with mixed DNA had to put themselves into the supernatural data base, which Naomi obviously refused to do. While the world slowly accepted supernaturals, it still underwent social growing pains. Cults and political parties still fought against coexistence, with violence or shackles enforced by words. I’d have a better chance as a werewolf or vampire…

Doomed. I was doomed.

The security door buzzed, allowing a guard and another newcomer through. He waltzed in, no break in his stride as if he owned the place. His black hair looked windblown with traces of something colorful. Glitter?

“Mouth shut, Aiden, or I’ll grab the muzzle.” The guard escorting him spoke like they knew each other. Aiden jerked his head in my direction, as if I’d shouted at him. I hadn’t. But I was staring.

Red eyes were the dead giveaway for any vampire. They only varied in shades of crimson, sometimes turning as light as amber. His eyes were bright as rubies.

“Muzzle?” he chuckled, hoarsely, “Sounds kinky.”

The guard shoved him hard once, forcing him onto a bench.

“I’m kidding . I’m not hungry, anyway.”

I let out a breath, mentally thanking the guard for not sitting him next to me. The gratitude was short-lived, however.

“Hey, Cupcake,” Aiden rasped like he smoked regularly.

I kept my head facing the door. There were dozens of us in there, surely he’d addressed one of them as a tiny dessert? When no one responded to him, I did the stupid thing and peered over my shoulder. Aiden leaned forward, eyes glowing.

“Cupcake?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know your name and you look too sweet to be here.” He rested his elbows on his knees and gave my throat a scan. I faced back around, using my hair as a neck shield, but that didn’t stop him from chatting.

“What curious thing are you? A shifter?” he asked.

Others in our company had given me puzzled looks when I first arrived. I knew why. On the outside, I looked human. Pretty average as far as I could tell. I didn’t have any outstanding features. No fangs, horns, or wings. My aunt even dressed me down, hiding my body beneath heavy clothing and sunglasses in public.

She told me the angels would come for me if they ever find out. For a demon, that basically meant death.

Aiden hadn’t been the first supernatural to inquire, given their keen senses. If it wasn’t my scent, something else triggered their nosy tendencies. But my identity, my business. I ignored him again, hoping he’d grow bored of me.

He scoffed. “Fine, then what brings you here?”

“ Parking ticket ,” I said, barely glancing back and crossing my arms, “You?”

Aiden waited until I looked at him again to answer. He licked the corner of his lips where a maroon stain still lingered. A metal ball glimmered in the center of his candy-red tongue.

“Just a bit of bad luck. She promised she wasn’t a screamer.”

I ducked my head into my chest. Why was he boasting about his donor screaming? In what context? I didn’t want to know, actually.

I knew what vampires had to do in order to feed. What I’d done to Peter hadn’t been so different. I could be just as scary as anyone in that room and yet, they could all probably hear my rapidly beating heart.

I made a mental list of apologies to my aunt, and to several gods, for any petty things I’d been upset about; meeting some repentance quota. Just in case I got eaten before being sentenced.

“Winters.”

My head shot up. The guard at the front waved me forward. I rose with a tremble. The walk felt impossibly slow but I made it to the guard before I knew it.

I heard Aiden chuckle behind me.

“Later, Cupcake.”

***

The guard left me in a new and empty room. Not much for dec oration save for a rectangular mirror on the wall and a table with four metal chairs. A fluorescent light shone high above me, irritating my eyes.

“Wait here.” The guard left me to stand awkwardly. Chairs were available but I remained standing. What would they ask me? I didn’t know how I came into existence. My aunt said she saved me after a coven of witches abandoned me. At the time, I’d been an infant, so no memories there.

Then she drugged me into suppression and raised me like a normal human. To her best efforts.

A soft knock made my stomach lurch. I moved away from the door and a man of rich, dark complexion wearing a suit walked in. He gave me an inquisitive glance before gesturing to one of the chairs. “Please, have a seat, Miss Winters.”

Peace flooded the room, which didn’t make a lick of sense. I’d been sweating and chewing my nails off but as soon as he walked in, a spell wrapped an invisible, warm blanket over my shoulders. Ironically, it made my anxiety worse. I didn’t trust the new feeling imposed on me.

The man sat across the table from me and I noted more of his appealing features. There was something beyond artistic about his perfection, like his creator took greater care with his design. The lack of blemishes on his even skin tone, his impeccable posture, and defined chin. All beautiful. Also, not human.

He dropped a thin file on the metal surface, keeping the scarce amount of paper on the inside from slipping out. I wig gled in my chair, wondering what he would say first. His yellow eyes had a crystalline reflection to them like looking at the inside of a diamond.

Vampires weren’t the only ones with distinguishing peepers.

My interrogator was an angel.

I did my best to hide the fright from my face as my insides crumbled. Angels had powerful effects on people; just another attribute that singled them out from the rest of the world. That and being so damn pretty, but the same could be said about most demons.

He cleared his throat. “Call me Jarmiel. Do you know why you’re here?”

What a loaded question.

“No,” I said, “Is Peter okay?”

“He’s alive,” he said rather dismissively, “Could you elaborate, Miss Winters?”

I sank into my chair, feeling the weight lift from my shoulders.

Peter was alive…

Thank the gods.

“Miss Winters?” he repeated.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” I said, remembering the brutally dismembered person in Peter’s driveway, “There was a monster rampaging around.”

“We know.”

“Oh.” I frowned, unsure of where our conversation was headed. “Then, I don’t know why I’m here.”

Jarmiel laughed once under his breath. “For someone who assaulted a peacekeeper and ran, you’re taking a very coy approach.”

I held my tongue.

“You’re in our system as a human,” he continued, “Someone with your abilities , and at your age, should be classified differently. Can you explain why you haven’t been registered properly, Miss Winters?”

There. The real reason they’d brought me in.

I swallowed my rising scoff. If they didn’t have proof, then I was innocent. “I’m registered correctly, sir.”

Jarmiel flipped through the minimal pages of my file with an unreadable expression on his face. He moved on, “Can you tell me where you were at around ten p.m. last night?”

“Peter’s house,” I said, “Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”

“And what were the two of you up to?”

My brow raised. They wanted to know how Peter got in his condition. Understandable.

But what if he’d already come-to and told his side of the story? Which was what, exactly? Did he even remember? He could’ve said something damning without understanding the consequences.

I had to do my best to keep the story believable. “We were just talking.”

“What about later that evening? Any changes?” Jarmiel asked.

“We cuddled, I guess, and… this is kind of awkward, isn’t it?”

“It’s not. It’s important,” he said, “So, you were engaging in sexual activities?”

I choked on air.

“T-Technically? I guess we were getting to that point.”

Jarmiel proceeded, unbothered, “And after that?”

“He had an asthma attack or something,” I said, “I don’t know. I made sure he was breathing before finding help.”

An easy lie considering most of it was true. I didn’t even ful ly understand what I’d done to Peter. Away from the trauma, I could think more clearly. I did remember a weird sensation while we kissed. Peter’s lips tickled mine like we were making tiny sparks of electricity.

Stupid .

I knew my touch could hurt people and I kissed him any way. Why had I thought he’d be the exception? It wasn’t like I killed people just from bumping into them on the street, so the duration of the touch could be a determining factor. But Naomi’s way of “dealing” with things was to ignore it; bury it and bury it some more. I never learned my limits.

Jarmiel interlaced his fingers and set his hands on the table, “The hospital told us he had no external or internal wounds, and yet, his body shut down.”

He was baiting me again.

“Not sure what that means,” I said. Demons were known for terrorizing humans in several ways; deception and murder being the most infamous, but also stealing souls and possessing bodies. Some even ate humans whole.

Not my thing, for which I was grateful.

If what Jarmiel said was true, I had to guess that “energy” dealt with the soul. The medicine Naomi gave me every morn ing supposedly suppressed my demon-related urges. Another concern of mine to add to the pile, especially with her gone. I’d always had it. Always had her. I didn’t know anything different.

“Will Peter be back to normal soon?” I asked.

“You care about the boy?” Jarmiel watched me intently but I sat there doing the same. “He will be. I’ll ask again, were you aware of what was happening to him and your part in it?”

“You mean when I gave him CPR?”

He laughed once. “You had no magic, no weapon, but somehow you were able to thwart a creature much larger than yourself. And I’m to believe you had nothing at all to do with Mr. Calder?”

Calder .

Must’ve been Peter’s last name.

I squeezed my hands together underneath the table, wishing the interrogation would end. How the hell did he know about my fight with the monster if he hadn’t seen it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Registration is important to prevent these kinds of accidents. The council is going to request your cooperation for an examination. So, we can get to the bottom of this now, or later.”

I shook my head. “My aunt is human. I’m human.”

“Naomi Winters, yes. We tried reaching her. Do you know her whereabouts?” Jarmiel asked.

“No. I don’t.”

Somehow, he seemed to believe that. I didn’t receive any deep sighs or death stares from that. “We did a little digging, hoping to gain a better understanding without her assistance,” he said, “There doesn’t seem to be much information about you or your parents.”

“They’re dead,” I said, “Naomi said they weren’t close and I don’t have anyone else.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It would’ve helped clear some things up. Your parents, on record, were humans. But what’s more…” He flipped one piece of paper over, “They also didn’t appear to have any children.”

I felt an unsettling pit in my stomach. How had they found that information so fast, anyway? Naomi said she had my backstory airtight but it seemed the angel found all the holes.

Wondering if he could sense my panic made me panic even more. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Is Naomi Winters related to you by blood?”

I knew why he asked. Naomi had dark eyes and dark, curly hair while mine lay flat and copper, like strands woven out of coins. My height surpassed hers by a head, and we always joked that I was a warrior beside a wicked pixie.

Still, I shrugged.

Jarmiel’s thin eyebrows pulled together causing wrinkles to appear on his forehead. “Tell me, Miss Winters, or do you prefer Jessebel?”

“ Jess , please,” I said.

His already piercing, golden stare magnified his frustration. “Jess. Do you mind if I show you a video?”

“Sure.” What video?

Jarmiel leaned across the table with his wide-screen phone and started playing a clip. It looked like an amateur recording from someone else’s phone. I could hear the deep voices cracking in octaves as they freaked out, like they were…

the drunk idiots from the party!

They’d recorded me.

In the video, I’d already splintered the car windshield after getting backhanded by the creature. Its unearthly racket drowned out the screaming guys who still held their phones for some reason.

As I continued to watch the screen, I noticed the dark, wispy aura building around me. Crackling sparks of gold channeled through the cloud-like fireworks. My face transformed until I seemed possessed.

The video stopped.

“We found you soon after, almost delirious. Before you ran off, that is. The Ghoul was nowhere to be seen,” Jarmiel said, rewinding to the screen with my face clearly visible. “That is you , correct.”

“I swear to the gods—”

“Don’t.”

“R-Right.” I stammered, “I mean, kids do crazy things with videos these days. The filters these tech companies are coming up with are insane.”

He slammed the phone face down on the table and lowered himself back in his chair. How could someone so pretty also be so terrifying? “Miss Winters, do you know how many trained hunters, peacekeepers, and purifiers die every day to something that size? You expect me to believe you have no idea how you defeated it?”

“Yes. Because I didn’t,” I said.

Truth. It lived. Sort of.

“Do you know what you conjured in order to protect yourself?” he asked.

“You mean the filter?”

The angel looked ready to blow a fuse when the door opened. A much calmer and younger man stepped in. A chaotic mess of caramel hair sat atop his head; a hot and cold difference from this other angel who kept his hair cut short.

“Hey, guys.” He waved, “Sounds like we are getting nowhere, huh, Jare-bear?”