Daughter of Damnation Ch. 3

2000

The city of Chicago, cast in the subtle hues of the rising sun, grew ever smaller in Evelyn’s rear view mirror. The morning had been filled with frustrating complications, as Zadkiel had refused to leave until they learned to dress themselves, but also adamantly insisted that Evelyn not be allowed to touch the child. She had been forced to coach Zadkiel from afar on the infinite subtleties of buttons, zippers, and sleeves, all while struggling to move supplies from her penthouse to the SUV she’d rented for the month.

Thankfully, they’d managed to leave the city without incident. Evelyn set up her standard network of messages and automated email responses, informing her office and various professional colleagues that she would be unavailable for a while. This wasn’t the first time she’d taken mysterious time off without warning, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Now, the child was safely swaddled and strapped into the most expensive car seat on the market—another task that Zadkiel had refused to delegate—with boxes of diapers, formula, and clothing crowding the back seat.

In her tiny arms, leaning against her for support, lay an adorably soft plush bunny.

Beside Evelyn, a faint hum filled the car while the Divine Archangel of Mercy crept forward several inches. They grimaced, then the hum returned and they slid backwards again.

They shuffled their feet, huffed in frustration, then the sound returned.

VRRRRR *CLICK*

Several inches forward. Zadkiel grumbled.

VRRRRR *CLICK*

Backwards again. They tried to adjust their seat belt, but pulled too quickly and forced it to lock.

VRRRRR *CLICK*

Evelyn bit her tongue as she focused on the road in front of her. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as Zadkiel’s seat slid back and forth, no position adequate for the picky Archangel. After nearly ten minutes of fidgeting, they seemed to find an acceptable position, and Evelyn sighed in relief.

“We do not approve of these travel accommodations. Why do we not fly?” Zadkiel asked once they stopped fiddling with their seat.

“Depends on what you mean by fly,” Evelyn said. “If you mean ‘sprout wings and manually fly there ourselves’ then the answer is easy: you have no control over your body, and can’t manifest your wings. Plus, even if you could, your child would be at significant risk.”

“You know what we mean, Hellspawn. We are very well aware that humans of this time period have constructed flying contraptions.”

“They’re called planes, Zadkiel. You’re correct, a plane would get us to Yellowstone significantly faster, and much more comfortably. However, even if I were to charter a private jet, I’d be putting us both at risk. Your arrival has, without a doubt, triggered huge alarm bells all over the world. You have no idea how many people are scouring the country in search of you. It’ll be at least a year, probably longer, before they accept that you’ve given them the slip. If we visit an airport, no matter how small, we risk you being discovered.

“You seek to obfuscate our existence,” Zadkiel stated.

Evelyn nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“To ferret us to a tortuous facility under your own control, no doubt.”

“Yup. I’ve got a giant warehouse with a big wheel, and I’m going to force you to run like a little hamster while I laugh and crack my whip behind you,” Evelyn muttered. “I’m gonna set up a solar panel array and sell all the energy to make myself rich.”

“We do not appreciate your sarcasm, Hellspawn. You have been belittling our existence ever since we arrived. Your bout of laughter this morning, especially, was not appreciated.”

Evelyn immediately began laughing again. “Oh, come on, that was hilarious!”

Zadkiel's face reddened. “Zippers are a foul creation! Why did mankind bother to advance past simple cloth ties?” As they spoke, they idly fiddled with their recently damaged hair.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Evelyn quickly turned around to check on the child in the back seat. She was asleep, thankfully, still holding the bunny tight as the car hummed around her.

“You will never lay a hand on her, Hellspawn,” Zadkiel hissed.

“So you’ve mentioned. Nearly a thousand times this morning.”

“Once we are restored to our former glory, I will wipe all traces of your existence from reality. You will regret ever having taken me prisoner.”

“Well, until then, you’re stuck with me,” Evelyn muttered. After a few minutes of silence, filled only with the occasional rush of cars passing them, she spoke up again. “You know you’re never going back, right? You’re likely going to be stuck in this body for the rest of time. Or until you die, whichever comes first.”

Zadkiel scoffed. “Our siblings will recognize the error of their ways eventually. Perhaps in a few dozen years, once our child is grown and self-sufficient, we will approach Heaven to initiate a dialogue.”

“You’re not going to like hearing this, but Heaven’s not very big on forgiveness.”

“Heaven is DEFINED by its forgiveness, Hellspawn!” Zadkiel hissed, punching the car door to their side. As they did, the ambient light in the car warped towards them. “We forgive millions of mortals for their transgressions day after day. Our God would never remove eternity from us for a single course of action, no matter how vehemently they disagree with our decisions!”

“Would they let Lucifer return if he were genuinely sorry?” Evelyn asked.

The Archangel’s eyes snapped open. “I-I… that is different. The Morningstar’s crimes are beyond forgiveness, no matter how authentic of an apology he might deliver.”

“So you admit there’s a line,” Evelyn countered. “Who draws it? Where does it go?”

“Our siblings commune in ways you cannot comprehend, Hellspawn. Our conversations span eons, they transcend all concepts of time as mortals understand it. Such decisions are made by tribunal, informed by thousands of years of context.”

“Okay, so, Lucifer is never coming back. What about me? Could I get into Heaven if I apologized and repented?”

“You twist our words in an attempt to confuse the argument, Hellspawn. You exist beyond forgiveness, as your soul has been twisted by Damnation, which you have no doubt exasperated through millennia of foul deeds. You will never see the light of Heaven.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Evelyn took a sip of her coffee before tucking it back in the cup holder beside her. “Your argument is that my very nature precludes me from entering Heaven. I have been deemed unworthy, no matter how much good I might do, no matter how much time I commit to overcoming my past.”

“A hypothetical situation, of course,” Zadkiel added. “We both know Demons have no temperament for good. “

“I’m not trying to convince you I’m a good person, Zadkiel,” Evelyn said with a frustrated sigh. “And now you’re derailing the conversation. The point I’m trying to make is that I will forever be banned from Heaven purely because they disagree with my fundamental existence. Is that accurate?”

“As loathe as I am to agree with you, that is sound reasoning.”

“So, you admit that despite my actions, my very existence is unforgivable in their eyes. Heaven is willing to, and has, decreed that certain types of individuals are beyond Salvation.”

“There is no point to repeating yourself, Hellspawn.”

Evelyn looked over to Zadkiel. “What happens to your daughter when she dies? Who will judge her soul and decide her eternal fate?”

The Archangel gasped, stammering for a few moments before they managed to speak. “Our daughter is… she’s—”

“—A Nephilim. According to Heaven, her existence is unforgivable. They were so offended by her birth they cast an Archangel out of Heaven.”

“The actions of my siblings are… regrettable,” Zadkiel whispered. “We defied doctrine, and did so knowingly. It is only fitting that we are punished for our actions.”

A large semi-trailer sped past Evelyn’s car, pausing the conversation for several minutes. Beside her, Zadkiel had grown unusually pensive, and Evelyn briefly wondered if she was pushing him too hard. By the time silence returned, however, she knew she had to keep going.

If they don’t accept this now, their daughter will pay the price.

“Do you regret your actions?” Evelyn asked. “Do you regret having a daughter? If the answer is yes, and you truly believe that Heaven is capable of forgiving you, then your former glory is within your grasp. In order to reclaim your true form, they will make you renounce her existence, and she will spend eternity knowing that her parent cast her aside, that she was nothing more than a momentary distraction.”

“That’s not—”

Evelyn didn’t let them protest, and kept speaking. “If the answer is no, then your apology will never ring true in Heaven’s eyes. You will be forever separated from your true self, trapped in this physical vessel. You will, through your actions, be admitting that you believe Heaven to be fundamentally flawed. Your daughter, however, will forever have a loving parent by her side. No matter what hardships you face, no matter what Heaven thinks, you’ll have each other, and both your lives will be brighter for it.”

She felt Zadkiel’s gaze burning a hole in her head, though thankfully not literally. The light of the sun continued pulsing back and forth, in time with their breathing, as Evelyn’s words hung in the air.

“Demons lie,” Zadkiel finally muttered. “You twist the truth. There is nothing you are more proficient in than making yourself sound sympathetic, in convincing your victims that allying with you is not only beneficial, but just.”

“How am I asking you to ally with me, Zadkiel? In both scenarios I just described, I’m absent from the picture and receive no benefit. I have done nothing but parrot your own ideas back at you. All I’ve done is forced you to consider the ramifications of your actions. You don’t owe me an answer, nor yourself, but your daughter is another story. Your actions will shape the rest of her life, and if you proclaim to love her while still attempting to side with Heaven, she will sense the conflict in your heart. She will think herself a burden, and she will be lesser for it. Children are smarter than you know, Angel, and your daughter is a Nephilim. She will no doubt have abilities far beyond yours, at least in your current form.”

Zadkiel had nothing more to say, and fell silent for the better part of the next half hour. Evelyn drove in silence, appreciating the quiet atmosphere, while she slowly navigated towards the I-90 interstate highway. The light hitting the car gradually stopped bending with the Archangel’s emotions, which dispelled the tension in Evelyn’s body. While most humans wouldn’t notice such a disturbance, there was no guarantee that enemy agents weren’t on the road with them.

“It is not your place to lecture us on how to raise our daughter,” Zadkiel finally said. Their words were soft, and they refused to look at Evelyn as they spoke.

With a heavy sigh, Evelyn switched on the cruise control and settled in for the first long stretch of their journey westward. “If we’re going to survive this trip, you need to start working on your language.”

“You would mock our speech next?” Zadkiel scoffed.

“I’m not mocking anything. All I’m saying is that, if you keep referring to yourself in the plural, people are going to assume that we’re married, and I’m the mother of your child.” Predictably, the Archangel bristled at her words.

“B-but that’s ridiculous! We would never lie with the likes of you!”

“Well, I know that, but random strangers at gas stations and restaurants won’t. Not only will they make unfair assumptions about us, but you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb. By human standards, your current form is immaculately beautiful. Even if they don’t notice the rays of the sun bending just for the honor of touching your skin, they’ll notice your natural charisma. If you don’t make a serious attempt to start blending in, you’ll be putting us at risk.” Evelyn briefly glanced towards the child in the back seat. “All of us.”

“Why am I not surprised that you advocate for secrecy, Hellspawn? Fine then, for the sake of our daughter, we will let you explain the subtleties of Earth to us.”

Thank goodness. At least talking them through Earthly etiquette will make the drive go faster.

“First things first, you need to stop using plural pronouns. I know you hate to think about it, but you don’t exist beyond time anymore. You’re no longer a multitude of ideas; you’re just some guy. So long as you’re like this, it would be wise to start referring to yourself in the singular. I, me, myself, things like that.”

“And if we don’t?” Zadkiel asked.

“Then you draw more attention,” Evelyn said matter-of-factly. “The more people look at you, the more you risk the life of your daughter.”

Zadkiel nodded. “Then we will—I will attempt to retrain our linguistic abilities.”

Evelyn sighed. “Well, it’s better than nothing. Now, second rule of staying inconspicuous: shut up and let me do the talking. I’m literally built for subterfuge, and if you let me play to my strengths, I can make sure no one disturbs us.”

Minutes of conversation turned to hours, Evelyn doing her best to give Zadkiel a crash course on humanity. Despite knowing that this knowledge would likely be irrelevant in another week or so, Evelyn was determined to get to Yellowstone without incident. They went over money, speech patterns, common topics of conversation, and everything else Evelyn could think of. While she had no idea if Zadkiel was truly absorbing the information, she hoped that their frustratingly flawless nature would heighten their memory.

Eventually, the Archangel began to complain about the “confines of their physical body, and how it protested the prolonged inactivity.” When coupled with the child in the backseat that had recently woken up and begun asking for attention, Evelyn knew it was time to pull over. Instead of pulling into a roadside diner, she drove slightly further away from the highway to find a more isolated restaurant.

Once they had parked, and Zadkiel had enthusiastically voiced their appreciation for the ability to stand up and walk around, it was time for another important lesson.

Setting up shop in the back of the SUV, Evelyn supervised the Archangel as they attempted to care for their child’s various needs. They practiced changing the child’s diaper, even managing to dispose of it in the proper diaper bag, and eventually moved on to preparing a bottle. They seemed much more comfortable feeding their daughter now that they had more experience, and Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief as Zadkiel even demonstrated unusual proficiency with cradling their daughter afterwards, getting her to burp and even laugh a few times.

Evelyn was grateful she had the excuse of supervision to fall back on. Powerful emotions threatened to overwhelm her as she watched the Archangel’s face light up. In that moment, it felt impossible to think that Zadkiel would ever forsake their daughter for a chance to return to Heaven.

It could happen. This is still so new for them, they’re caught up in the novelty of raising a child. Give them twenty, thirty years, and they might start to regret their limited form. We also don’t know the limitations of this form. Can they age? If so, they might literally have to sacrifice their own life to guarantee a future for their daughter, and that’s a level of existential horror that an Archangel has literally never had to deal with before.

She’s so innocent. She has no idea what life awaits her.

“Spare us your tricks, Hellspawn,” Zadkiel muttered under his breath, casting a barbed glare at Evelyn.

“What?”

“Your tears do not deceive us.”

Surprised, Evelyn quickly turned away and raised a hand to her face. True to the Archangel’s words, she found a tear running down her cheek. She wiped it away before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“Dang, you found me out,” Evelyn said, forcing a sinister laugh. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Our powers of perception are immaculate,” Zadkiel said, swelling with pride.

Rolling her eyes, Evelyn waited for them to lay their daughter in the carrier and remove it from the car. Once they were ready, Evelyn closed the trunk and locked the car. With Zadkiel’s form requiring food to survive, it was time to take a risk and expose them to the public. All Evelyn could do was hope that her preceding, hours-long lecture had given them enough knowledge to blend in well enough.

Besides, we’re hours away from the city. They’re going to cast blame on each other before suspecting a third party ferreted Zadkiel out in a rented SUV.

Entering the restaurant, the smell of cheap coffee and grease fryers filled Evelyn’s senses, and she grinned with satisfaction. She’d taken the precaution of subtly altering her shape to be more alluring, as well as undoing the top buttons of her blouse, in an effort to pull attention away from Zadkiel. A tiny bell announced their presence to the small handful of patrons scattered around, and a nearby waitress in a wrinkled apron cast a smile in their direction.

“Go ahead and take a seat wherever you want!” she said. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

Evelyn led them both to a corner booth, one that could block line of sight from much of the restaurant, and instructed Zadkiel to sit with his back to the diner. Evelyn now had a perfect view of not only the other patrons, but also the entrance. The Archangel placed their daughter’s carrier next to them, against the wall, when the waitress finally approached them both.

“Afternoon folks!” Her face beamed with warmth as she greeted them. “How are y’all doing today? On a trip? I must say, most people don’t drive this far off the interstate, but I’m certainly not one to complain.”

Evelyn leaned forward, returning the warm smile. She also quickly read the waitress’s name tag. “Yup! just a little cross-country trek. My friend and I both have relatives in Los Angeles, so we thought we’d make a vacation out of visiting them! Plus, with the little one in tow, we figured a car would be a better decision than a plane. Have you ever flown with a child this small, Linda? Ugh, the last time I shared a flight with a baby, I was ready to leap out the fire escape!”

The waitress laughed along with Evelyn before directing her gaze to the baby carrier. “Oh, she’s beautiful! Is she yours?” she asked, looking to Zadkiel.

The Archangel briefly cast their gaze to Evelyn before swallowing nervously. “Y-yes, we are—I mean, I am her father.”

“What’s her name?” the waitress asked eagerly.

Before Zadkiel could say anything, Evelyn cut in. “That’s Hope! She’s still a little cranky, so you might not get a hello, but I promise she’s happy to be here.”

“Awww hi baby Hope! Who’s an adorable little doll?” Linda said, leaning forward slightly as she made kissy noises at the child. “Oh, have you got a cute little bunny friend? Yes you do!”

As the waitress directed all her attention to the baby, Zadkiel cast a sinister glare towards Evelyn. She shrugged with smug indifference before the waitress cleared her throat and shook her baby-excitement away. “Anyways, I imagine y’all are hungry. Here are your menus, I’ll let you look everything over and be back in a few!”

Once the waitress had left, Zadkiel spoke up. “Do not dare to imagine that you would be given the honor of naming our child, Hellspawn.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. I’m not trying to name her, but if I’d let you speak, you would’ve said that you haven’t named her yet, which would be weird. Besides, I figure someone like you would pick something super obvious and cheesy, so I went with Hope. What are you planning on naming her, anyways?”

“We are not sure. Her mother’s name was—” Zadkiel bit his tongue, briefly looking at Evelyn, “not important. Furthermore, our current situation means she will not be able to weigh in on our daughter’s name.”

“That’s a shame. I’ll bet she would have picked a much better name than whatever you end up going with. Anyways, that’s not important!” Evelyn opened Zadkiel’s menu, then pushed it in front of them. “This is a menu. It’s a detailed list of every type of food and drink this restaurant serves, and when Linda comes back, you’ll need to tell her what you want.”

Zadkiel’s eyes went wide as they started to look over all the pictures. “What is the optimal choice?”

“There’s no such thing, Zad. Everyone has different tastes, and you’re supposed to order something you think looks tasty.”

“You shall not insult us by hacking pieces off our name, Hellspawn,” Zadkiel hissed.

“Well, I can’t very well call you Zadkiel, can I? That’s a really weird name by human standards! Besides, you haven’t called me by my name once since we met. If anything, I’m being much more polite than you are.”

“We deserve kindness. You do not.” After sharing an intense glare, Zadkiel finally yielded and turned their eyes towards the menu. “There are entirely too many choices here. How are we supposed to decide?”

“Did you like the food I gave you earlier?”

Zadkiel’s reddened slightly. “N-no. It was terrible and foul, just like its creator.”

“If you want something simple, you should get a cheeseburger and fries. You can eat it with your hands, and I’ll be spared the torture of watching you use silverware for the first time.” Evelyn lazily reviewed the menu, picking her own food as she instructed the Archangel.

“Surely we would master it within seconds,” Zadkiel whispered under their breath as they looked at the menu, their eyes lingering on the cheeseburger option.

“Just like you mastered that zipper?”

Before Zadkiel had a chance to respond, no doubt ready to curse zippers to the depths of Hell, Linda the waitress returned to the table. “Are we feeling ready to order, folks?”

“We sure are! Do you want to go first?” Evelyn asked.

With no small amount of panic, Zadkiel spoke up. “Y-yes. We—I would like a cheeseburger and fries.”

Linda hummed in agreement as she wrote down the order. “Mmhm. And do you want the regular fries or the garlic fries?” She now looked at Zadkiel, and Evelyn realized this was the first time the waitress had truly paid attention to the Archangel. Within seconds, she smelled the familiar scent of attraction coming from Linda as her eyes darted from their perfectly proportioned face to their immaculate, illustrious hair.

“Um… w-whichever you think is better,” Zadkiel muttered.

Linda blushed with glee as Zadkiel abdicated the decision to her, and with great effort, she managed to look over to Evelyn. “And for you, ma’am?”

“I’ll have the BLT and some garlic fries, if you please!” Evelyn said, closing her menu. “Oh, and coffee for me, soda for him. Got to stay awake for the long drive, am I right?”

After another small laugh, Linda tucked her notepad into her apron and grabbed the menus off the table. Before she could walk away, however, Zadkiel pointed to the TV mounted nearby. “Excuse us, what is that?”

“Oh, the accident? Apparently, a truck rolled over on the highway earlier today. They’re saying no one got hurt, thank Heavens, but I’ll bet traffic is a right mess for anyone heading towards the city. You know, I saw a similar accident myself a few years back, it was terrifying! If I hadn’t called 911… well, I like to imagine I saved that poor man’s life, but who can really say, right?”

“What is 911?” Zadkiel asked.

Linda cocked her head in confusion, briefly looking to Evelyn for an explanation. “He’s new to the States,” she said softly.

“Ah. That’s our emergency number! If you need to report accidents, crimes, anything of the sort, you can pick up any phone and dial 911 to talk to someone that can help.”

“Oh, I see.” Zadkiel briefly looked at Evelyn, who was silently urging him to cover his tracks. “Y-yes, we… have something similar in my home country. How foolish of us to forget such a thing. The image there, on the screen, it also shows a chain of numbers. Are those related to the accident?”

Linda continued talking, enlightening Zadkiel about the wonders of the American stock market. This continued for several minutes before the Archangel changed the topic yet again, now asking about various products they were seeing commercials for. Rather than continue being subjected to the torture that was Zadkiel discovering television, Evelyn grabbed the diaper bag from the seat beside her and moved to stand up.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up for a moment,” Evelyn said with a smile.

“Oh, of course!” Linda replied.

As Evelyn walked inside the bathroom, she heard the waitress begin to tell Zadkiel about her favorite soap opera, which Zadkiel seemed unusually invested in. Once out of earshot, Evelyn groaned in frustration. She emptied the diaper bag, then splashed some water on her face to sell the illusion of washing up.

C’mon Evelyn, pull yourself together. Crying? Really?

You’ve seen thousands of children since then. This is no different.

Memories flashed through her mind. Thoughts of her first visit to Chicago all those years ago. Meeting Vince, meeting Rosie. Learning to adapt to mortality, food, sleep, everything Zadkiel was struggling with now.

She remembered the many promises she’d made.

The one promise she’d broken.

The clatter of dishes out in the diner shook her from her thoughts. This wasn’t the time to be nostalgic, she needed to be on high alert. No one else could be trusted to get Zadkiel and their daughter to safety. This was on her, and her alone. With a small burst of hellfire, Evelyn refreshed her face and walked back out to the dining area.

Zadkiel seemed to be in the middle of finishing their conversation with Linda, who gave Evelyn a strangely distant look as she left the table.

Unperturbed, Evelyn settled back into her routine of watching the other patrons in the diner, as well as the entrance, while they waited for their food. Zadkiel was being unusually chatty, regaling Evelyn with stories of how nice Linda was, and how interesting her soap operas were. The Archangel seemed extraordinarily interested in the television, and Evelyn was happy they had something to distract themselves with.

When Linda brought out their food, Evelyn was treated to her own show: Zadkiel attempting to eat a burger for the first time. Much like she’d done with bottle feeding, she tried to eat her own sandwich in a way to show Zadkiel how it was done, but they still managed to lose the tomato and onions from the burger as they bit down.

Despite their mess, they seemed to enjoy the food. They didn’t eat with quite as much gusto as they had previously, but the fact they were eating at all gave Evelyn hope. The two of them ate in relative silence for the better part of the next twenty minutes, Zadkiel continuously glancing up at the television. They burned through an incredible number of napkins, as they were unable to keep the sauce from the burger off their chin, but Linda seemed all too happy to visit their table for frequent check-ins.

In fact, she seemed to be getting nervous about something.

Had Evelyn missed something?

The bell towards the front of the diner rang out, drawing Evelyn’s attention. Walking into the restaurant was a slightly rotund middle-aged man wearing dark gray khakis and a beige button-up shirt, likely one that hadn’t been cleaned or ironed in weeks. An equally brown hat with a wide brim sat atop his head, and a large shining badge on his chest identified him as a state trooper. When he approached the counter, hiking one leg up onto a stool with more effort than was required, Evelyn saw a thick belt that held all manner of policing gear, and she began to worry.

“Jake! How’s my favorite officer of the law doing this fine day?” Linda asked, bringing a mug and a pot of coffee over to the officer.

“Mornin’ Linda,” the officer said, grabbing his hat before placing it on the counter next to him, revealing his bald head underneath. “I’m sure you saw that accident? It was just outside my jurisdiction, but a few of my guys got called in to assist with it. Still no idea what caused that damn truck to flip over but, hey, it could have been a lot worse.”

He’s on duty, but he seems to be a regular here. This could mean nothing. Besides, how could he know? What could have tipped him off?

“Zadkiel, we need to leave. Now,” Evelyn muttered under her breath.

“What?” Zadkiel said, his mouth full. “We haven’t even finished our burger yet, and we were quite enjoying it. Also, this ‘soda’ they gave us? We like the way it bubbles.”

“This isn’t a joke, Zadkiel!” Evelyn hissed. “Something bad is coming, I can feel it!”

Several more minutes passed as Evelyn tried to hurry Zadkiel along, but they seemed reluctant to leave their food uneaten. Before she could convince the Archangel to leave, she heard a multitude of screeching tires out in the parking lot. Car doors, far too many of them, began to slam shut as dozens of footsteps moved towards the diner. When the front doors opened again, it wasn’t state troopers that entered, but federal agents. They wore no identification, and all dressed in identical black suits with white undershirts. Moving with unnatural precision, they began spreading through the restaurant, some entering the kitchen in the back while others stayed in front to guard the entrance.

As they entered, the state trooper from earlier had reluctantly moved off his seat and begun walking towards Evelyn. Jumping to her feet, she clenched her fists and stared the officer in the face. “What is the meaning of this?!”

The officer held up a hand. “Ma’am, I don’t want to turn this into a fight if I don’t have to. Just come along quietly, and we can take care of this like civilized people.”

“Civilized? I’ve done nothing wrong!” Evelyn stepped closer to confront the officer.

Surprisingly, the state trooper seemed ready for her defiance. Moving quicker than she’d expected, given his relaxed figure, he grabbed her wrists and turned her around, pinning her to the table as he pulled out his handcuffs. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Scum like you never pick the peaceful option. Ma’am, you’re under arrest for the kidnapping and attempted trafficking of an illegal immigrant.”

Evelyn gasped as she collided with the table, and she looked up at Zadkiel. Despite the commotion, the Archangel was grinning with satisfaction.

“What did you do?!” Evelyn asked.

“We are your prisoner no more! The local law enforcement agency has recognized your wicked ways!” they said with pride. Beside the Archangel, the baby in the carrier began to cry as the table rattled from Evelyn being slammed down.

Around them, the lights in the diner began to swell and pulse in time with the baby’s cries. At their peak they seemed ready to burst, while each time the baby paused to breathe, the lights dimmed to the point of nearly extinguishing themselves. Evelyn heard other patrons in the diner start to panic, but based on the insistent mutterings of several federal agents, it was clear that no one was allowed to leave.

One of the agents approached Zadkiel, roughly grabbing their shoulder before instructing them to pick up their child. While they seemed surprised at the harsh movement being forced on them, they continued to silently gloat while they watched the state trooper click his handcuffs around Evelyn’s wrists.

“You idiot!” Evelyn shouted. “You have no idea what you’ve done!!”

—

1938

Evelyn was awakened the next morning by a relentless cold breeze that forced its way through the cracks in Vince’s pathetic house. She hadn’t expected to notice the difference between one blanket and two, but it was stark enough for her to curse the weather outside with her waking breath.

On the opposite side of the shack, which was only a few feet away, Vince and his daughter were huddled for warmth. It barely seemed to be working, as every few minutes she heard quiet shivering coming from both of them.

He can barely even provide for his own daughter, yet he still forces a smile each day. Does he have no shame?

Bah.

Humans and their relentless obsession with procreation. She hardly seems worth the effort.

Rising from her poor excuse for a bed, Evelyn began to dress herself. She hated being confined to cheap, physical material rather than her usual illusory garb, but without her powers there was little she could do about it. Once she finished lacing up her mismatched shoes, she quietly slipped out the front entrance and began to wander the streets.

The world was quieter at this hour.

Fewer conversations, fewer people, fewer forced smiles from those she saw. This atmosphere felt more accurate to the living conditions surrounding them. After all, who could be genuinely happy in such a horrid place?

A few minutes of walking eventually led to a small line of people, all waiting for their chance to enter a small shack with a large serving pot hanging over a fire. She instinctually tried to sniff the air to determine what they were cooking, but quickly remembered that her abilities were still locked behind those abhorrent chains. Instead of a detailed breakdown of all the food in the soup, she caught the faintest suggestion of processed meat underneath the crisp, winter breeze that continued to sap her strength away.

Her stomach grumbled, even at such a small hint of food.

Muttering a curse under her breath, she reluctantly swallowed her pride and joined the line. In front of her, a man wearing a torn and tattered overcoat turned to smile at her, making a small comment about the weather. Evelyn simply smiled and nodded, and within a few minutes, she’d made it to the front of the line.

A stocky lady sat behind the soup, her smile revealing several missing teeth as she looked up at Evelyn. “Another new face? Well, you found the food tent easily enough. Just yourself?”

Evelyn stopped herself from nodding, her ravenous hunger inspiring an idea. “Actually, I’m staying with Vince and Rosie. Would it be alright if I brought them their breakfast as well? They’re sleeping in.”

“Ohh you’re the new girl I heard about. Doc was spinning wild tales about how it’s a miracle you survived, said he’d never seen anything like it! Not a problem, dearie, we’re always happy to help out ol’ Vincie. He’s done so much for us the last few years, bless his soul.” As the serving lady talked, she carefully scooped out three helpings of food into three separate dented cans, handing them to Evelyn.

Quickly nodding with mock gratitude, Evelyn scurried away from the food tent and began heading towards Vince’s home. Although the profile of the soup was insultingly bland, it was hard to deny the effect it was having on her. She was no stranger to hunger, and on several occasions had gone without feeding for small periods of time for various reasons, but mortal hunger was another beast entirely. Were her true form not bound, a lack of souls would simply drive her to more aggressive lengths before finding a chance to sate herself. Hunger was just another tool to give her an edge, to push her towards taking the steps needed to survive.

Here, on Earth, in this insultingly mortal form, hunger eroded her differently. The desperation she felt wasn’t energized the way she was used to; it was horrifyingly tiring. It gnawed away at her insides, it protested every time she stood up to walk around. This was the first time in her life that hunger had made her feel this weak, this tired. She wanted nothing more than to eat what little food she had and go back to sleep.

The walk back took longer than expected, and she was forced to sit down on an overturned crate in an attempt to recover her strength. Her shaking arms, combined with the slick ground, made her worried that she might trip and lose what little food she’d been given.

She sat in a small alcove between makeshift hovels, one that gave her a modicum of privacy that made her feel slightly less shitty about needing to rest from such a pathetic amount of activity. After a moment, she began looking to her surroundings, and found she’d positioned herself near the entrance to a large gap between buildings. Not a ramshackle alley between scrap houses, but a proper alley between large, imposing stone structures that towered overhead.

In that alleyway, she saw the hunched figure of a man curled up against a dumpster. He seemed unusually still, and her curiosity pushed her to investigate. Careful not to spill her food, she pushed herself to her feet and walked closer.

The man in front of her had a thick wool hat pulled over his ears, and appeared to have fallen asleep grabbing the edges of his jacket. Thin, fingerless gloves still gripped the lining of the coat, but as Evelyn looked closer, she saw they were stiff and stricken with frostbite.

He had likely died overnight.

Evelyn was no stranger to bodies. She’d seen millions in her lifetime, she’d killed countless people without hesitation, and had seen many of her siblings enact horrible vengeance on a scale that would drive most men mad. Here, however, kneeling in front of a pathetic, frostbitten corpse, a terrifying new thought took hold.

This could be me.

I could fall asleep tonight and simply never wake up.

Sweat formed on her brow as she stared at the corpse. This was the first time she’d ever truly felt the weight of mortality, and it filled her with terror. A glance behind her revealed she was alone; no one stood at either end of the alleyway, no one could see her at the moment. Taking advantage of her isolation, she set down the cans of food and balled her fists in front of her. If she could connect with her abilities again, even a fraction of them, she could guarantee her survival.

As instinctually as she might take a breath, she tried to summon a mote of hellfire in her palm. It was the most basic expression of her abilities, the core of everything she was; if she could do that, she might be able to give herself warmer clothing, perhaps some money. Anything was better than her current reality.

She clenched her teeth as she stared at her hands, carefully trying to connect with the core of her being. She saw a spark, then two. A small burst of dozens more, struggling against the cold. Evelyn began to see flickers of fire, hope filled her eyes, when obscene ephemeral chains sprang forth from the aether to choke them out. They only clung to her arms, but pain radiated through her entire body as she recoiled from the force of their restriction.

It took a minute for the pain to recede, but thankfully the chains themselves vanished much more quickly. The last thing Evelyn needed was someone to find out what she really was; she might lose the only things keeping her alive at the moment.

The attempt at manifesting hellfire caused her stomach to grumble in protest, and the following weakness clouded her thoughts with fear. She looked at the near-frozen corpse once more, its stiff expression haunting her with visions of her future should she fail to find a way to survive. Diverting her eyes from the body, she instead found herself looking at the three cans of soup she’d set down earlier.

She knew what had to be done.

They’ll find me out if I bring them nothing. I need to make it believable.

Carefully tipping the cans back and forth, Evelyn redistributed the food so that one can held a large spoonful more than the other two. With the deed done, she rose to her feet and hugged the cans close to her chest, leaving the alleyway.

Within minutes, she’d found her way back. She carefully closed the door behind her, making sure not to wake Vince or Rosie, who still slept in each other’s arms. Collapsing onto her poor excuse of a mattress, she set two cans of soup down in front of her, leaving the one with extra food still in her grasp. After draping her blanket over her shoulders, she raised the can to her lips and eagerly began to drink. As offensive as this sustenance was, it was far preferable to dying.

By the time she’d finished her breakfast, she heard Rosie start to grumble and cough. Whether this was a result of waking up, or if the noise forced them both awake, Evelyn wasn’t sure, but it hardly mattered.

Rosie stretched out her tiny arms as Vince slowly sat up, both yawning and rubbing their eyes. It took Vince a moment to fully wake up, at which point he looked over at Evelyn.

“Oh, Miss Lamour. My apologies, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” he said with a tired smile.

“Not at all, Vince. In fact, since I got up early, I went and got us all some food.” Evelyn gestured to the cans in front of her.

“Did you hear that, Rosie?” Vince asked his daughter, ruffling her hair. “Auntie Ev got us breakfast in bed!”

“Thank you, Auntie Ev!” Rosie said, her smile much more genuine than her father’s.

Before they started eating, Vince wrapped the blanket they’d been sharing around Rosie, who then sat in his lap and cuddled against his chest. Now that she was swaddled in a threadbare cocoon, Vince reached for the cans and gave one to himself, one to his daughter.

It was shocking that Rosie didn’t spill any of her meal, considering the enthusiasm she showed in eating it. She finished her portion much quicker than Vince did, and after a few seconds of shaking the can over her mouth, she sighed in disappointment. “Daddy, was there less soup today? I didn’t have as many of the carrot pieces I like…”

Vince looked into his own can, then playfully drummed his fingers on its edges. “You know, I think you’re right! They accidentally gave me too much! I’m feeling pretty full, actually, how about you take the rest of mine.”

“Are you sure Daddy?” Rosie asked, staring straight up at her father.

“Of course, sweetie. Here, you take mine, and then we’ll go for a walk around camp to keep ourselves limber.”

Rosie said nothing, instead mumbling to herself as she finished the rest of Vince’s breakfast. His expression, while full of love and concern for Rosie, was obviously tinged with exhaustion. The telltale signs of malnourishment tugged at his facial features, his taut skin highlighted his cheekbones, and his hair seemed unusually thin for his age.

For some reason, his expression inspired Evelyn to think back to her first night here. He’d given her food as she tossed and turned, had that been his?

She clutched her can tightly to her chest, staring down at the remnants of her stolen meal in quiet reflection. Thankfully, as none of them had anything resembling a proper meal, it wasn’t long before the three of them prepared to venture out into the shantytown.

Evelyn was curious to see if Vince had any ulterior motives for their walk. She had no doubt that exercise was a healthy endeavor, but was it truly wise to waste energy on walking around when food was in such short supply? The question rattled around in Evelyn’s brain as they meandered through the neighborhood, saying hello to all the other vagrants that called this place home. Many of the fires had been extinguished, perhaps to save fuel for the cold nights. Somehow, people still found the energy to be cordial, to greet each other with smiles even as their clothes fell apart on their bodies and their stomachs withered away.

They were near the edge of the encampment, engaged in conversation with a group of young men talking about their efforts looking for jobs, when a slightly older man approached them. He walked at an uneven pace, relying on a large makeshift cane to move around. At first glance, his face appeared to be covered in soot, but further inspection revealed it was likely just damage from too much sun exposure.

“Vinnie, my boy! Have I got good news for you!” the man said, extending an equally weathered hand.

“Mike! Still kicking around, are ya?” Vince said, eagerly accepting the handshake.

“Ha, only half as good as you!” As the man spoke, he kicked forward one of his legs, revealing that he was completely missing his left foot. “Now, about that news—”

“Well, hold on now,” Vince said. “Before we get down to business, we’ve got some introductions to take care of! Mike, this is Evelyn Lamour, one of our newest residents. Evelyn, this is Mike Donovan, the mayor of our little community here.”

“Put ‘er there, Miss Lamour,” Mike said, extending another hand. Though it pained Evelyn to shake the hand of such a crude man, she reluctantly accepted while feigning gratitude.

“Well met, Mr. Donovan. I’ll admit, I had no idea this place had a mayor.”

Certainly a fitting one. He’s just as decrepit as the infrastructure.

“Eh, it’s an honorary title, mostly since I’ve been here the longest. After I lost my foot in the mines, job offers ran out, and… well, you know the rest. Anyways! Vince! As much as I enjoy such lovely distractions, you really need to hear this. I found some work, and I think you’d be perfect for it!”

Vince perked up. “Really? What is it? How long?”

“I managed to work some connections of mine, and found a factory manager looking for some help for about a week. If all goes well, and he thinks you’re reliable, he said he might be able to pull twenty cents an hour!”

The small crowd around them muttered excitedly.

“Factory work, huh?” Vince quieted down, his gaze burying itself in a nearby snowdrift as he thought about the proposition. “I’m flattered you would come to me, but I think you should give it to Stevie.”

Evelyn clenched a fist and bit her tongue as she listened. Was he seriously planning on turning down such a great offer? While he and his daughter starved?

Mayor Donovan seemed ready to argue, but after a stern glance from Vince, he backed down. “Alright, fine. I won’t force ya. You just make sure you’re not checking out on us, y’hear? Especially not if you’re taking care of the fine Ms. Lamour now.”

The two men said their goodbyes while Evelyn continued holding back her temper. The mayor quickly pivoted to new conversations with the other men present, but eventually left to presumably find Stevie. With nothing else to do, the rest of the day was painfully boring, and when the sun began to set, they returned to Vince’s shack for dinner and more rest.

Once Vince had tucked Rosie in, Evelyn finally let herself speak up.

“Why would you turn down work? Surely that much money would have kept you and Rosie fed for weeks.” She tried to stay calm, but feared that her desperation was showing through her words.

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Vince said, taking a seat in front of Evelyn. “I’m vaguely familiar with most of the factory workers ‘round these parts, and even if Mike vouches for them, he doesn’t see the world people like us are living in. Someone with my color? If I show up, I’d be lucky to get half the discussed rate. Stevie, however, he’ll likely get the full twenty cents.”

“But then you get nothing!” Evelyn protested. “Even if it’s less value overall, even five cents an hour is better than starving to death!”

Vince slowly shook his head. “It’s not like that around here. Stevie’s good people, and he’s a part of the community. When people find work, they come back and share what they have to give everyone a chance to eat. If the money’s going to the same place anyways, twenty cents will go much further than five.”

His rationalization made sense, as strange as it was for Evelyn to picture. In all her thousands of years of existence, she’d never been forced to rely on other people for survival. She was Lilith’s firstborn, after all, one of the most powerful demons in existence, and she’d simply taken everything she’d ever wanted. Now, in this filthy camp with its filthy people, her life had been saved multiple times through, what, the kindness of strangers? The thought made her stomach turn, almost as much as the gnawing hunger.

The conversation over, Evelyn turned her back to Vince and attempted to get to sleep. She still hated that she needed to rest to recover, but she’d also begun looking forward to these periods of unconsciousness; they were the only place her hunger didn’t follow her.

Life continued in much the same vein for the next few weeks. Evelyn alternated between sleeping and surviving, doing her best to help with community efforts purely to give herself access to more of what other people had to offer. Charm came naturally to her, after all, and even without her powers it was easy to convince people to part with scraps of food, warmer clothing, and various other small conveniences.

Every night, tucked away in an alleyway where no one could see her, Evelyn would test the chains restricting her abilities. They were the only thing keeping her in this dump, and she hoped that frequent attempts to break them would gradually wear them down.

Her first success came several weeks later. After days and days of failure, she managed to pool enough energy to manifest tiny illusions. This discovery led to several days of practicing, of pushing her limits to understand how she might be able to manipulate the world around her with this reclaimed talent. In the end, after confirming that she could hold the illusions for nearly an hour, she decided to do something about her hunger.

It was a particularly cold day, and the sun had just started dipping below the horizon. As its subtle orange light bathed the city in a warm glow, Evelyn crept out of the shantytown and found her way to a diner several blocks away.

The restaurant sat on a corner of two streets, with a large parking lot that held a collection of automobiles. A lively crowd sat inside the diner, chatting and enjoying the food to the sound of whatever music happened to be on the radio. Even from outside, the smell of fresh, hearty meals was strong, and it spurred her to walk inside that much faster. She didn’t have the strength to change her clothing, unfortunately, but she was sure no one would care so long as she had money to spend. Closing her eyes, she quickly manifested a small pile of change in her pockets, then walked inside.

A tiny bell announced her arrival, and she eagerly approached the counter before taking a seat. She quickly read through the menu in front of her, stomach growling, and waited for the proprietor of the joint to come take her order. When she was finally approached, however, it wasn’t by someone looking to take her order. Instead, a large policeman stood behind her, hand on his belt, and he loudly cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Ma’am. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the officer said.

Evelyn turned to face the officer, a larger man with a heavily waxed mustache. As she did, she quickly realized that all the ambient noise in the diner had vanished, and all the patrons of the establishment were staring at her. “I know I don’t look it, but I have money to spend, just like everyone else. I promise I’m just here to eat.”

The next person to speak wasn’t the officer, but a server behind the counter. “We don’t take your money here. Out.”

At a loss for words, Evelyn quickly darted her gaze between the two men talking to her. While this happened, she got a good look at everyone else in the diner. They all shared one very important thing in common, something Evelyn had never needed to think about before: they were all white.

“I-I’ll pay extra! Double!” Evelyn stammered, hoping to bribe her way out of trouble.

The server looked to the officer, who simply nodded before grabbing Evelyn’s arm. He pulled her off the stool and to her feet, then began walking towards the entrance with her. At first, Evelyn was shocked to be on the receiving end of such treatment, and simply let the officer drag her from the building. Once they were outside, however, a familiar rage began to bubble under the surface.

You would toss me out? ME?!

With a furious grunt, Evelyn turned towards the officer and tried to reconnect with her abilities once more. She understood the limits of her power, and knew exactly how far she could push herself without risking the appearance of those ghastly chains.

“You can’t do this to me!” she shouted. Clenching her hand into a fist, she tried to retaliate against the officer, and was horrified to see him easily block the strike.

Shock and indignation filled the officer’s face, and he didn’t hesitate to pull forth a small club from his belt. He grabbed Evelyn’s hand, forced her back, and struck the side of her head. She had no idea if he was trying to seriously hurt her, or simply scare her away, but the intention had no bearing on the outcome.

Pain shot through Evelyn’s body and her vision blurred as she fell to the ground. She painstakingly crawled to her hands and knees, attempting to flee back to the shantytown, but her body refused to move. The officer said something from behind her, though she couldn’t focus on anything but the strange warmth that had just appeared on the side of her face. Something was moving, sliding down her cheek, and it was wet. Raising a hand, she touched it to her temple, and when she looked at it again it had been slathered with blood.

I’m… bleeding?

Real, mortal blood.

She’d bled before, even enjoyed the sensation of losing it in battle, but blood had never been necessary for survival. Not like it was now.

In a haze, Evelyn scrambled to her feet and ran. Her head throbbed with pain, and the blood began to drip down her neck and onto her clothing. Each step worsened the pain, and although her vision started to fade, she knew she was as good as dead if she didn’t make it to Doc’s. The stonework in the buildings began to blur together, and it grew harder to tell where she was running.

By some stroke of luck, she managed to find her way back to the encampment. Her first attempt to cry out for help failed, as her mouth had filled with blood. She spat it out, staining the snow underneath her feet, and tried again, shouting out to anyone who might be listening.

“Doc! Somebody get Doc!” Evelyn cried.

Multiple shapes sprang into action, though Evelyn was too injured to recognize any of them. Her cry for help had used up the rest of her focus, and her vision blurred as she fell forward. Moments before hitting the ground, someone caught her. Her world kept spinning, falling further and further into the dark, before she finally lost consciousness.