The Fine Line of Heaven and Hell

A/N: I was listening to my CD today when I got a phone call from an old friend of mine. I posted that first chapter of The Mundane and he’d found me online. I wasn’t so happy about that, ‘cause I really didn’t want him reading what I had, but hey, too late now, right? Come to think of it, he’ll probably read this, too. *waves* I don’t care that much, anyway. He used to always steal my art works when we still hung out. It really pissed me off all the time. He’d say ‘but this is different’ and it’d always be this stupid, tiny little detail that nobody noticed, anyway. Honestly, make your own stuff, man. *sighs* Well, enough of my personal ranting.

I think after a certain point, this story has kinda started to drag a little. That’s disappointing, but I suppose it can’t really be avoided, seeing as I’m not an amazing author or anything. I’m always open to suggestions, so feel free to make them. *smile*

Chapter 18-Mysterious Hardback
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A steady rapping had been going against her door for the past ten minutes. Really, this person was very persistent. Closing the book in her lap, she moved to answer the door, finding the one person she really wasn’t ready for: Jerrick Cordon. His smile was nervous, which seemed odd on his face, out of place when he was usually so collected and charming. His charm was sickening, so Shuey appreciated the change. “Hello. Can I come in for a few minutes?” It seemed like an innocent enough question, she guessed, so she shrugged and moved backwards.

He smiled quickly, slipping quietly through the door and standing himself next to the quaint little bed the room had inside it. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” he said bluntly, a horrible mask of tranquility sliding on his face. It was rather amusing to see him throw his emotions under a façade when she was so used to seeing his expressions as he felt them. Again, it felt out of place. She nodded at him slowly, signaling for him to go on. “I don’t regret what I did, but I really shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Ah, an apology; so that’s what he wanted. “It’s fine,” she said shortly, meaning the event, not the question that currently swamped her mind. Leon’s words kept running through her thoughts, making it hard to concentrate on the book that she assumed Jerrick had left behind. His wings flittered in and out of visibility, making her wonder if he was doing that on purpose or it just happened when he was like this. Those wicked grey eyes studied her quietly as he cautiously took a step forward, only to stop when he saw her eyes dart to his arms as if he were going to attack her.

“I’m really not trustworthy?” he asked softly, eyes portraying something akin to ache. She even had to glance at his body to make sure she hadn’t stabbed him without realizing it like she had Leon. So this was a different kind of pain then? She tilted her head in thought; hadn’t she decided that he was indeed someone she could trust?

“……I trust you,” she murmured at length, her voice low and thoughtful. What did he expect from her? A small smile snuck onto his face as one pianist’s hand brushed away the dark bangs in his eyes. Once she really took the time to notice, Jerrick was nice to look at. Like a painting, she supposed. Idly, she wondered what he would say if she told him she likened him to a painting. Would he be complimented, or would that be an insult?

He took two more steps towards her as she resisted the urge to take an equal amount back. “Do you? I don’t want to be your friend, Shuey.” Oh, had Leon said something to him already? Damn, she’d been hoping the angel would give her more time than that. She understood there was a big difference between friends and lovers, but she really didn’t think she was ready for that type of thing. “I…. I want to hold you.” As he admitted that, a tiny red hue spread across his cheeks, making her eyes widen slightly.

Blushing? Was he embarrassed then? If it was humiliating, then why was he saying it? “Can you at least let me love you? Even if you never care for me in return, am I allowed-”

A hand gripped his sleeve, interrupting his pathetic excuse for a confession. The face that looked at him seemed confused and afraid, but also looked like it had some concern in it. That she’d be concerned for him alleviated some of the fear inside himself. “It’s fine, but don’t expect too much…. I don’t understand it, so you’ll have to help me.” He felt like pulling her close and never letting go at those words. Did that mean she’d be with him? From the tone in her voice, he wasn’t sure.

To test the waters, he placed his hand over the frail one on his sleeve. She stiffened, but didn’t move away, her face contorted in concentration. Was she examining the feeling she was having at the movement? A small frown twitched to life on her face, but she never pulled her hand away, so he took that as a good sign. “I’ll do everything I can to make you love me,” he said bluntly, making sure she knew what his intentions were.

Dual eyes widened, her hand pulling away from the coolness that was Jerrick as she took a step back. The words he spoke terrified her for some reason. While she hadn’t particularly disliked him touching her hand, she didn’t exactly like it, either. It was just a touch, but she supposed that was better than anyone else. She probably would have stabbed someone else grabbing her hand like that, right? Or was she wrong? She didn’t know herself anymore. So she did the only thing she could think of in the bizarre situation: changed the subject. “Thank you for the book.”

The lean man tilted his head to the side in curiosity. “What book?” Was she thanking him for one of the ones he’d given her a long time ago? She held up a hardcover that he’d never seen in his life before. “Where’d that come from?” he asked softly, keeping up a decent conversation until her eyes widened.

“You didn’t get it?” He shook his head at her, inquisitiveness turning into apprehension. “Leon?” He shook his head again; if it had been Leon, he would have known. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and it made him worry slightly. He held out one hand, motioning for her to give him the book, so she did. It looked like it was the exact type of book she needed, so it was someone who knew about her lack of understanding when it came to her powers. Did this person know of her lineage? As far as Jerrick knew, he
and Leon were the only ones who knew.

“I wonder where it came from; it could be dangerous, you know. Would you like me to keep it for you?” The look on that angelic face scorned him for his stupid question, so he rolled his eyes. “Just thought I’d ask. Is it that useful?” She nodded slowly, hand wrapping around the book in his hand and tugging at it softly. Those frail looking fingers brushed his briefly, making Jerrick shiver…. Man he had it bad. His hand released the book, eyes watching avidly as she skimmed the pages once again.

“Was there anything else, then?” she asked coldly, whatever kindness and caring that had crept into her voice gone; banished from her, he guessed. Taking a chance, one hand ran the length of her jaw, making her eyes narrow dangerously, but nothing else, it seemed. Once his fingers drew away, she opened her mouth as if to say something, but apparently decided against it. Instead, she glanced pointedly at the door, already making herself comfortable on her bed once more.

Shuey watched Jerrick leave, her mind briefly flitting over the woman from yesterday. Did he know her? It would appear so, considering Leon already knew her name, but what if that was merely the angel? No, the cameras; she’d nearly forgotten about them. There was one over the bar in case something bad happened, so Jerrick probably did know her. She didn’t particularly care, but she’d pondered it.

It wasn’t fifteen minutes later in her reading that knocking resounded on her door once more. Thouroughly irritated, she whipped the door open with a glare, only to find one of those people she really didn’t want to put up with…. Again. Zeke Brethmel. Russet hair merged over golden eyes as the demon’s thick frame filled her doorway. Fuck; what was he doing there? “Was it useful?” he asked coldly, as though he’d already said hello and she knew what the hell he was talking about. He only smirked at her confusion,
nodding at the book in her hand. So it was from him? Did that mean… he knew?

Her dagger was out of its sheath in record timing, only to be easily thwarted by a muscled arm snatching her wrist from mid-swing. “That won’t work on me. I would’ve thought you’d be smarter than that.” Gripping the arm in his grasp, he shoved her backwards, nearly making her fall as she moved backwards, eyes wide. What the hell was he here for? Did he know that he was her father? Would he kill her now? He shut the door with one booted foot behind him, glancing around the room warily before returning his focus on her. He truly was a military man. “I’ve trained for centuries; there’s no way a little runt like you could stand up to my age. Maybe in a few centuries of your own life, but not at a mere seventeen.”

A frown formed on her face, her arms crossing when he didn’t seem prone to attack her again. Even if he did plan to assault her, there was really no way to defend herself. He knew how old she was, too, which was alarming. “I can see that brain of yours working through your eyes you know.” The statement caught her off-guard; was he telepathic? Could he read her thoughts; is that how he knew? It’d be her own fault if that were the case. “No, I can’t read your thoughts, but your eyes betray you.” He could only see one eye, and she wanted to point that out, but could he really only see one eye? She had no idea what kind of powers a golden-eyed demon could possess. Jerrick had said each one was unique.

He watched her as though he knew her every movement intimately, and that made her incredibly uncomfortable. Did she resemble him too much or something? She glanced down at her somewhat muscular frame; built for speed and strength, but more for speed. Her fingernails were elongated like the demons’ were, and she guessed that could give her away a little. Couldn’t angels have ridiculously long nails? Her body was screaming for her to attack, but her brain knew she would die if she tried; she had a scar she couldn’t prevent to prove it.

“I’m going to wait until you’re strong enough to fight me. Then I will kill you. Do you understand?” Well that was black and white; of course she understood. Why wait? Her confusion must have been evident, because the man before her leered knowingly. “For Cerelia,” he said, as if she really knew who the fuck Cerelia was. A brow arched at her baffled expression. A rough hand gripped her chin, yanking her forward as the other hand pushed her hair aside. “She stole you away from me, after all.” What? He had known she existed? “What? You didn’t think I wouldn’t recognize you? Are you stupid? Even after fifteen years, I can sense my own flesh and blood.” Shuey was pretty sure her heart or brain was going to explode in a minute; she just knew it.

“She took you away and kept you. What was she up to; I wonder?” he mused aloud, fingers still holding her face while he spoke. “She took my knife, took my childe, and she took my pride. Tell me, where is your mother now, Shuey?” How would she know? She didn’t even know her mother. Well, now she knew her mother’s name, but that was all she knew now. “Even if you try to protect her, I will hunt her down.” Idly, somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered what had transpired between the pair to involve her like this. If her mother hadn’t taken her away, would she have been raised as a demon? Demons and angels alike would be hunting her down her whole life, right?

“I don’t know my mother. Nothing. You’re looking at the wrong person,” she said stonily, jerking away from the grasp on her chin. She stood straight, watching the look of interest on Brethmel’s face. She had decided the naturally stoic man was insane, and she wanted him away from her as soon as possible. He was clever to a frightening degree, and it disagreed with her safety.

“How would I know you aren’t lying?” he asked equally as coldly, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that forced a yet another decision to never do that again. She thought over what to do, and considered the situation. This was her father, whether or not she actually liked him was a different matter, but she supposed not everyone was fond of family. Her father, who seemed to have at least wanted to make some effort in keeping her as his own for whatever reason, had a right to know about her past, in the very least, right? Frowning, she stepped over to her bag, pulling out the old, musty letter her mother had left her, handing it to him without a change in expression.

“That’s all I know.” Brethmel’s brow arched again, his golden eyes skimming the letter as his lips turned into a frown. Here, a man who said he was going to kill her stood, also conveying what she could only consider some deranged form of affection to her. He had, after all, admitted to wanting her by his side. It was strange, frightening, and yet comforting all at once. He tilted his head to look at her from the letter, a frown splaying on his face.

“Who raised you?” was the only question that the man seemed to have.

She frowned slightly; she hadn’t even bothered to remember the man’s name and she’d lived with him for fifteen years. It was rather sad once she thought about it. “A priest,” she said simply, not bothering to describe her living life or what the man was like. He was a hypocritical grease ball that pretended she didn’t exist as best he could. It had been fine with her, for she didn’t want to be acknowledged by such rubbish.

The General was studying her closely, lips twisted into a tight scowl while he gazed through her as though he were not looking at her, but her soul. That was very disturbing. She was still rather confused as to why the man would be affectionate and yet claim to kill her. What was wrong with this guy? Not only that, but he was planning on waiting until she mastered her powers to kill her? Wasn’t that pointless as well as disadvantageous? “….Do you know why I want to kill you?”

“Because I do not belong?” she asked dully, her stoic features emphasizing her lack of interest. It really didn’t matter why he wanted to slay her; he did and that was fact. It was also a fact that she was not strong enough to defend herself in any manner; the scar on her face proved as much. She was well-caught, she guessed. Did it really matter at all?

“Because you disrupt me.” One eyebrow quirked, the statement bland and the expression blank. “When you get your first kill, you’ll understand it yourself.” What did that mean? “If you have demonic powers, then they’ll double upon your first victim. They don’t advance after every death you bring, just the first one, but after that, your abilities will grow slowly. They never stop; that is the privilege you gain by being a golden-eyed demon.” So that’s why they were so strong. Their power was limitless. It also explained why there were so few of them; they probably killed each other off. Zeke was the last of the demons of this type, and he’d bred with an angel to create herself.

Being the first surviving hybrid she knew of; Shuey didn’t know what that meant for her. Apparently he didn’t feel the need to explain why he barged into her room to annoy her and threaten her, and he obviously didn’t have anything more to say. His back faced her as he left, only glancing over his shoulder briefly at her before shutting the door. This shit really wasn’t fair. Regardless, she did have training today, so she had to go ahead and get ready for that.

When she did finally get to the roof, she only found a very put-out Leon and a man she did not know. His eyes were purple, which was one of the rare demonic colors of some high-ranked clan that she’d read about before continuing on to the next thing. The Decara Clan, if she wasn’t mistaken. They were known for their unique eye color and small wingspan, as well as their specialized ability to counter almost any attack made by a demon. She’d read about them for a full fifteen minutes before setting down the book for something else. Aside from that, the Halfling had been staring at him for at least a full minute and he hadn’t moved an inch.

Maybe he didn’t care if she looked at him; did he think she was complimenting him, or did he know she was assessing him, as she did everyone? “I am Seji Decara, and I am here to train your battle knowledge. I’m here under strict command from High General Zeke Mavick Brethmel.”

Leon sighed heavily shrugging at her. “We don’t have a choice. Brethmel’s is higher than Jerrick, so we have to listen to him.” She really didn’t understand that one, either, but she was willing to let that slide. “I didn’t know Brethmel knew… You made it sound like he didn’t.” She frowned at him; how was she supposed to know what he knew? “The Lieutenant came specifically to train you in the abilities we might not be able to help you with, so he’ll pop up every now and then to work with those once you get them. Until then, he’ll just show up here and there to make a report for his master.”

If the demon was offended by this, his face did not show it; he really was a professional. “Military?” Didn’t he have military business to attend to if he was within the ranks? How could a man with a job like that have such an amount of spare time?

“The Demonic Army is both military and government. Mr. Cordon is a diplomat of the military as well, but I’m sure you already know this. I hold a position similar to him; the title Lieutenant is only a word that mimics an army. We are an organized tactical leadership.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? She had been pretty sure Jerrick wasn’t just an inn manager, but this was a little…overboard, right? So her father was a military politician or something?

She was getting a migraine again; she seemed to be getting those quiet a bit recently. “Cerelia. Who is she?” Blue eyes widened at the sudden switch of topic. “My mother; what place did she have in society? Do you know?” It wasn’t important, and she didn’t particularly care, but she really didn’t want to hold a conversation relating to the previous topic.

Leon shrugged, heading towards the door, knowing the look on that woman’s face meant she wasn’t up to training today. It seemed Shuey had received too much information and was now on overload. “She’s not anybody huge or anything, but Cerelia, if we’re talking about the same one, was a mid-class midwife. She was very popular, but her strength wasn’t amazing because she had nothing dear to her to protect. That’s who she was before I was banished, so other than that, I don’t know.” It was dull and to the point, just the way Shuey liked it.

She gave him a slight appreciative nod before heading through the door herself, intent on simply going back to bed until work.


A/N: Wow, sorry. New side of Brethmel; he’s still an asshole, but he’s a father-figure asshole now, I guess. O.o Again, I really didn’t expect it to go that way, but I don’t feel particularly prone to change it.

Andie: You eagerness and enthusiasm is both endearing and terrifying (said this to Luinil once). That is, in no way whatsoever, an insult. It IS a compliment; please treat it as such. You remind me of my good friend Jayson, who’s always happy (whether you’re always happy or not is a totally different story and absolutely none of my business.) and smiling. He terrifies me sometimes, really, but other times it makes it rather comfortable to hang out. If I’m not in the mood to say anything, he’ll hold up his own end of the conversation, talking about whatever he wants to and keep the mood pretty light.

He’s a great guy, and an English Major that I spend way too much time with. I’ve only seen him angry once, and he was smiling then, too. That, I’m telling you now, was down right pants-pissing scary. Seriously. He’s nice and happy and smiley, but he’s really secretly evil.

Well, thanks for reading!