“I’m a half-breed,” Kim said to Angela, desperate to gain her trust, smart enough to know it could escape at any moment. He was on perilous ground now. “My mother was a human witch—just like Stephanie. My father was a Jinn—just like Troy. He died when I was an adolescent. My given Jinn name is Sariel, but my mother named me Kim. Kimberly.” He shrugged, accustomed to the question in her eyes. “It was a common name for boys at the time.”
Angela glanced at Nina, worried, but her possessed friend wasn’t saying anything at all, only blinking, listening, and breathing. She turned back to him reluctantly. “How did your father die?”
“I killed him.” No point in being evasive, unfortunately . . .
Angela’s lower lip trembled. She put her head in her hands.
“He was abusive, Angela. Like only a Jinn can be abusive. Father or not, I think you can understand why I had to put an end to that.”
He held the cross at his breast, regretting his inability to tell her more than his own half-truths about its origins the first time she’d questioned him. Her words had unintentionally wounded him that night.
“How long ago was this?” She wasn’t looking at him anymore.
“Long. I don’t age like you.”
A lengthier pause. “Are you really a Vatican novice?”
“I’ve been part of the Vatican for five hundred years. Emerging onto the scene, disappearing, reappearing later to become a novice all over again, and in that time I’ve gained a mastery of Latin, and I now know more about angels, demons, Jinn, and the dimensions of Hell than is probably good for me.” He ran fingers through the hair in his eyes, shrugging it back. “That knowledge saved my life. The Jinn have been waiting for the Archon for eons ever since Raziel died. And because I knew what to look for and how to find it, Troy had no choice but to let me live until I did.”
“She’s going to kill you,” Angela spoke certainly, “for murdering her uncle . . . but that doesn’t seem right. She doesn’t seem like the kind of creature that would care what happens to anyone—”
“Not so fast.” Kim lifted a finger. “Troy might look savage, she might behave savage, murderous, and evil—but the Jinn are known for two things: determination and loyalty. Both of these combined equal my death sentence.” He continued, encouraged by the calm seriousness in Angela’s expression. She was listening very carefully, picking apart his every word. “The Jinn have a clan system, and the members of a particular clan—of a family—are expected to adhere to one another like glue. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are. Directly killing a family member is their cardinal sin, punishable by death. Making matters worse, I’m a half-breed. Usually, we’re exterminated at birth. In Troy’s eyes, I’m an abomination, flawed from the start.”
Another sorrow they could both understand. Angela lowered her gaze, pensive.
Nina coughed in the background, suddenly lively. She wasn’t shivering anymore and her fever looked like it had faded. Now, she stared at Kim along with everyone else, wide-eyed and grim.
“Why are you and Troy involved in this?” Angela stood up, stalking far enough away so that no one could touch her. “I thought you were looking for the Ruin, the Archon—to kill Her.”
“Hardly.” He gave Sophia his finest smile, enjoying her silent anger. “I’m on your side,” he said to Angela. “If you turn out to be the Archon, of course.”
“And if not?”
“Then I suppose you know too much.”
The unspoken implications of that hung between them, crushing. Kim didn’t want to kill Angela. She was a beautiful young woman, smart, interesting, and talented; and her personality—with all of its raw recklessness—tormented him with curiosity, the desire to delve deeper and deeper. But he’d been disappointed before, and Stephanie was probably the worst disappointment yet; not because she wasn’t a candidate, but mostly because her mind was unhinging itself. There would be no cooperation there.
“Well, I changed my mind. I’m not ready to die anytime soon.”
Sophia regarded her with surprise. “Is that the truth? You’re going to stay?”
Angela shared a brief glance with Kim, as if she either regretted their intimacy or ached for it again, and then walked over to a window, pressing her forehead against the glass. Her voice was almost inaudible. “I can’t be responsible for what happens to Nina. Her possession is all my fault.”
“No,” Nina said. “Not entirely.”
Her eyes were such a stark shade of crimson, it almost hurt to look at them. Bloody as the eyes of Lucifel herself. Kim slid out of his chair, strolling closer to the bed until he was leaning over her. Nina turned her face up to follow him, her arms lying peacefully at her sides, her features too content. Then she smiled at him. “Don’t try, priest.”