Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(55)

“There was never any chance of that,” I said as gently as I could.

He nodded and sniffed. He looked like a hard man—a scary man.

“You’re probably right about that. I hoped you would learn from that nun when the time was right.”

“Sister Ruth?” I asked. “I haven’t met her yet. She talked to my adoptive mother.”

“Have they treated you well, the people who raised you?”

I was shocked by his openness with me, his obvious sensitivity.

“Yes. Just one woman. Patti. And she’s as close to an angel as humans can be. I’ve never been without love.”

He relaxed, lowering his shoulders, but his eyes still brimmed with moisture.

“That’s good. That’s what I hoped for. What did Sister Ruth tell her?”

“She said you and my mother were in love.”

He half smiled, and for a moment his face was dreamy, a far-off look passing over it.

“I’ve got a lot to tell you, and that’s a good place to start,” he said. “Back when I was an angel in heaven. If you want to hear it.”

“I want to hear everything.”

We still held hands, and there was no chance either of us was letting go. His rough thumbs rubbed the soft peaks of my knuckles. We sat with our chests leaning on the table, heads inclined toward each other, keeping our conversation as hushed as possible. I listened as he began.

“Before there was earth, there were angels in heaven, billions of us. We were content. Well, most of us. Angels are genderless. So our relationships in heaven weren’t clouded by the physical. It was a community of friends, which may not sound compelling to a human, but it was good. It was right.”

His face softened, reverently, as he remembered. I couldn’t believe I was sitting there having a civil conversation with my father. I watched him, marveling, as he continued his story.

“Even though we angels could feel the full range of emotions, there was never any need to feel dark for more than a moment or two, and then we let it go and moved on. Everyone had a role, and we were all used to the best of our abilities. We felt secure and important.

“When I met Mariantha, our personalities clicked right off.” He paused, bashful at the mention of this angel, Mariantha. His tender expression was so contradictory to his hardened outer appearance.

“Mariantha is your mother, Anna,” he explained.

My heart leaped. I nodded and bit my lip, savoring each detail.

“I was drawn to her. I say ‘her,’ but remember—we were genderless in the heavenly sphere. Our feelings were strictly emotional. I made excuses to see her time and time again. Our souls complemented each other to the point where, eventually, we couldn’t stand to be apart. During that time there was an angel in the highest hierarchy who had the kind of charisma that quickly made him like a celebrity in the heavens.”

“Lucifer,” I whispered.

“Yep. I’d never met anyone like him. He had the kind of personality that draws others in. I wanted to hear everything he had to say. Mariantha said he gave her a bad feeling. She didn’t think that a single angel needed to stand out so brightly. It was the only thing we ever disagreed on.”

His face and tone were steeped in melancholy as he looked down at our hands.

“I started going to meetings to hear Lucifer speak. He was, and is, the master of deception. He would glorify God’s work and the work of the realm, and then sneak in one backhanded comment to leave us pondering. Over time, the tiny seeds of doubt started to grow, and so did the number of angels who gathered to listen. Lucifer used partial truths mixed with lies, and we fell for it. I was shocked the day I realized my feelings about everything had changed. I didn’t tell Mariantha.” He whispered that last line with regret. Dread filled me, knowing where the story was headed.

“Lucifer gained a huge following. He knew he’d succeeded in warping our thoughts, and was ready to go full force. He told us with total conviction that God was secretly creating a new race and a whole new realm just for these humans. Lucifer said that the Maker was obsessed like a child with a new toy. He planned to use us angels as no more than slaves to the new race: the humans. Humans would have luxuries and freedoms and experiences that angels would never be allowed. We angels would be used, and trampled, and forgotten. I was pissed— Sorry, hon. Excuse my language.”

I held back a smile. How cute that this giant demon was apologizing for a light curse.

“I was such a fool.” He shook his head, remembering. “I really believed God was fallible. I thought he’d lost his mind. And I wasn’t alone. One-third of the angels in heaven stood behind Lucifer. An angry mob of angels. Who could have imagined?”

He let go of my hand for a brief moment to smooth down his facial hair, in thought.

“I had to tell Mariantha everything at that point. She begged me not to fight, but I knew that when it was all over and she saw the truth, she would forgive me and understand. So I left and joined the war. You know what happened after we lost, don’t you?”

I swallowed. “You were cast into the pits of hell.”

He nodded, looking painfully glum. “It wasn’t till I found myself down there that I realized Lucifer’s deception. Others realized it, too, but most still blindly supported him. I kept to myself ’cause I knew it would be dangerous to speak out against him. My silent nature earned me respect. They thought I was broody and vengeful, but in actuality I was hating myself for what I did to Mariantha. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.”