“While it should have sent a warning that he had been aware of my existence before that day, it
instead sent a ripple of pleasure through me. ‘You noticed me?’ I said, too eager for his attention.
“‘Of course,’ he said, sipping his wine. ‘I could not make it through the courtyard without wishing
to see you. It has become rather annoying lately, especially when you are not there. Surely you are
aware of your beauty.’
“I paused to eat a sliver of roasted duck, afraid to speak. Finally I said, ‘You are right—I enjoy my
studies immensely.’
“‘If they are entertaining,’ he said, ‘you must tell me everything about them.’
“And so the afternoon continued, the hours filled with course after course of delicious food,
glasses of wine, and ceaseless conversation. Over the years I have had few confidants—you are
perhaps the third—with whom I have spoken openly about myself. I am not the kind of woman who
enjoys idle chatter. Yet not a moment of silence intruded between Percival and me. It was as though
both of us had been hoarding stories to tell each other. As we talked and ate, I felt myself being drawn
closer and closer to him, the brilliance of his conversation holding me in a trance. Eventually I fell in
love with his body with equal abandon, but it was his intelligence that I adored first.
“Over the weeks I was drawn closer and closer to him, so close that I could not endure even one
day passing without seeing him. Despite the passion I felt for my studies and the dedication I pledged
to the profession of angelology, there was nothing at all I could do to keep myself from him. We met
in the apartments he owned near the Angelological Society, where we lingered through the hot
summer afternoons of 1939. My classes became secondary to our leisurely hours in his bedroom, the
windows open to the stifling summer air. I began to resent my roommate for asking questions; I began
to hate teachers for keeping me from him.
“After our first meeting, I began to suspect that there was something unusual about Percival, but I
ignored my instincts, choosing to see him against my better judgment. Again, after our first night
together, I knew that I had fallen into a kind of trap, although I could not articulate the nature of the
danger I felt, nor did I know the damage it would cause me. It was only some weeks later that I fully
understood he was Nephilistic. He had, until then, kept his wings retracted—a deception that I should
have seen through but did not. One afternoon as we made love he simply opened them, encompassing
me in an embrace of golden brilliance. I should have left then, but it was too late—I was completely,
irrevocably under his spell. It was thus, they say, between the disobedient angels and the women of
ancient time—theirs was a great passion that turned heaven and earth upside down. But I was just a
girl. I would have traded my soul for his love.
“And in many ways, I did just that. As our affair grew more intense, I began to help him acquire
secrets from the Angelological Society. In return he gave me the tools to advance quickly, to gain
prestige and power. He asked for small bits of information at first—the location of our offices in
Paris and the dates of society meetings. I gave them willingly. When his demands grew, I
accommodated them. By the time I understood how dangerous he was and that I must escape his
influence, it was too late: He threatened to tell my teachers of our relationship. I was terrified of
being found out. It would have meant a life of exile from the only community I had ever known.
“My affair was not easy to keep secret, however. When it became clear that I would be
discovered, I confessed everything to my teacher, Dr. Raphael Valko, who decided that I was in a
position to be useful to angelology. I became a spy. While Percival believed that I was working with
him, I was actually doing my best to undermine his family. The affair continued, growing more and
more treacherous as the war continued. Despite my misery, I did my part. I fed the Nephilim
misinformation about angelological missions; I brought the secrets I learned about the closed world of
Nephilistic power to Dr. Raphael, who in turn educated our scholars; and I organized what was meant
to be the biggest victory of our lives, a plan to give the Nephilim a replica of the lyre while we kept
the authentic lyre in our care.
“The plan was simple. Dr. Seraphina and Dr. Raphael Valko knew that the Nephilim were aware
of our expedition to the gorge and that they would fight us until they had the lyre in their possession.
The Valkos suggested that we orchestrate a plan that would throw the Nephilim off our trail. They