“Mother,” Andronika shrieked with alarm. “What’s wrong with her?”
Cassandra never heard the answer. The shivers became more violent, more like the convulsions soldiers suffered just before dying. Unable to control herself or to feel any part of her body, she collapsed. She struggled to breathe, but she couldn’t draw in even the slightest bit of air and what was left in her lungs felt heavy and frozen. She wanted to say good-bye to her daughter, but couldn’t. Her head felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water and the words remained frozen in her mind. Her heart silenced. Everything went numb. The world disappeared.
Cassandra’s mind floated in a sea of blackness that became a gray fogginess and when the fog began to clear, a strangled scream caught in her throat. I’ve been a good person. I led a good life. Why am I here? The scene in front of her, surrounding her, had to be Hell. Strangely colored fires blossomed around a dark, round cavern. Cloaked figures sat next to her on thrones that circled the room. Pure evil filled the air, a tangible feeling that wrapped tightly around her, trying to suffocate her. If I’m here … then Jordan was right … we are demons.
“Yes, Jordan was right,” a terrifying voice echoed in her mind. “He was also right about you. You are stronger than we expected. You are a nice addition to the Daemoni.”
The Daemoni? The word rang with familiarity, something Jordan must have told her.
New visions flashed in her mind. Men and women waving their hands and sparks of light emitting from them, causing trees to burst into flames and water to rise out of lakes. Then she saw others, their bodies shimmering and then exploding. They disappeared, replaced by fierce beasts—some familiar, some she’d never seen before, all growling and snarling. More images showed men and women with white skin and perfect features except for their red eyes and teeth that looked like animal fangs. She watched in horror as those fangs slashed into the throats of innocent people, the monsters reveling in the taste of the blood.
Then she saw Niko, her own dear, sweet husband, and tears sprang to her eyes. He, too, had the same pale skin … and fangs dripping crimson. His tongue ran over the tip of one fang, savoring the blood, his eyes closed and he grinned, as if he were in Heaven. But this was not Heaven.
“No, it is not. But it’s not Hell, either,” said the frightening voice. “We are the Daemoni. We’ve brought Hell to Earth. And you will help us rule.”
Never! She wanted to cry out.
“It is time you accepted who—what—you really are. Jordan has given you new powers—”
Jordan? He did this to me? She heard her brother’s laugh in her mind, drowning out the other one.
“Yes, little sister. I’ve made you like me. Together, we can rule the Daemoni. Rule the world.”
She remembered the powers he’d displayed the last time she’d seen him and her frozen heart contracted, shooting pain through her chest.
I don’t want to be like you. I told you that. I don’t want these powers. How could you do this to me?
“It’s too late to fight it. Accept it. Embrace it. We will dominate! Earth will belong to the Daemoni and Satan will finally rule. Because of us.”
“No!” The new voice bellowed from what sounded like right in her ear but also far away.
Cassandra looked up and through a shimmering haze, she saw Father, with his large, white wings and long blades in each hand. But he wasn’t alone. The creature he battled also had wings, but black and rather than covered in feathers, a thin membrane stretched across them, like a bat’s wings. Horns protruded from its head and its eyes glowed red. It swung a black, jagged blade at Father, but he blocked it with one sword and jabbed at the demon with the other. The clash of metal against metal pierced Cassandra’s ears. The demon’s tail whipped, its pointed end slashing at Father, but missing. Father and the demon flew and twisted and rolled in the air, their blades arcing and slicing and parrying each other’s blows. Cassandra gasped when Father lost one of his blades.
“You have to choose, my daughter,” Father spoke in her head. “Choose the life you want. The God you follow.”
I’ve always chosen our life. Our God. The One and Only.
Father gripped his remaining sword in both hands, spun in the air and arced it down, slicing through the demon’s throat. The head fell from the body. Black blood spurted. A hundred voices screamed in Cassandra’s ears, denying the loss.
“Then your soul is ours, my daughter. It always will be.”
Father lifted her in his strong arms and warmth flooded back into her body. Her heart restarted and the heat built inside her and spread throughout, down her arms and legs and into her fingers and toes. Her skin tingled as she regained feeling. Then the heat became too much and she writhed in her father’s arms, screaming at him to douse the fire. Liquid flames licked through her veins. And then her vision grayed out again.
When it returned, she was back on the cliff top and she blinked against the bright light. Several paces away, Andronika and the old woman stared down at a body. Her body. How could that be? And there, on the edge of the cliff, stood a familiar figure. His wings were closed against his back. He turned when he sensed her.
“Are we on Earth or in Heaven?” Cassandra asked him, confused by seeing her deathly still body separate from herself, her soul. He appeared suddenly right in front of her and reached his hand out to touch her face. She nuzzled her cheek against his palm. His blue eyes filled with love and longing.
“In between,” he said. “We’re on the edge of the Otherworld, at the veil.”
She remembered the veil from when he’d shared visions of his past before leaving them on Earth. She wasn’t exactly dead, but— Oh, no! Andronika! Her hand flew to her throat. Father took it between his.
“You will return to the Earthly realm,” he said. “Your time there is not nearly over.”
She let out a sigh of relief, tainted with grief. “I’ve missed you, Father.”
“I’ve been here all along. Just on the other side of the veil.”
“What’s happened to me? What did Jordan do?” Her voice rose several octaves as terror overcame her. “Will I be like him now?”
Why didn’t he just kill her? She’d rather be dead than be evil.
“Yes and no,” Father said. “Those visions you saw before were images of the Daemoni—mages, vampyres, were-animals—beasts created by the demons as Satan’s army.”
“Jordan’s told me about them.” Her words felt heavy, her voice thick. She refused to be a part of them.
“Jordan has given you a potion that combines their qualities.”
Cassandra choked on the breath that lodged in her throat. Father wrapped his arms around her.
“Do not worry. All will be well,” he said.
“How can you say that? I don’t want to be like him! How can this happen? Couldn’t you have prevented it?”
“We allowed it.”
Cassandra pushed back from Father’s embrace and gaped at him.
“You allowed him to turn me into a … a monster?”
“We allowed him to create the potion. We allowed him to give it to you. That’s been his purpose all along. But this is actually our gift to you, so you may serve your purpose.”
“My purpose?” Her eyes flashed. “And what would that be? Hurting and killing innocent people? Because that seems to be all they do!”
“That’s what they do. Not you.” He took her hand again. “Come for a walk with me and let me explain. We have important plans for you and your descendants and I only have a short time to tell you everything before sending you back.”
Cassandra walked with her father along the cliff’s edge, the waves crashing against the rocks below them and sending up a spray that she could see but not feel. Although this was her and Andronika’s cliff that had become so familiar to her, it felt different—not quite real. She couldn’t deny her father’s request to clarify even if she wanted to, because she had no idea how to return to her own realm.
Father explained how the fallen angels—the demons—created the Daemoni and how the Daemoni were now building their army by infecting and turning innocent humans. He told her how they did this to Niko. She shook her head, denying that her husband could be like them. But then she remembered the vision she’d seen, what Father explained was a memory being shared with her by a vampyre named Zardok.
“Can I do anything for him?” she asked. “He can’t want to be with them.”
To her surprise, Father smiled down at her. “That’s exactly what your purpose is. No, Niko does not want to
