Sweet Evil

by Wendy Higgins

  Gerlinda gaped with her eyes, frozen to her seat as the Dukes let out an uproar of laughter.

  “Go on, salad dodger!” yelled a Fabio-looking Duke with an English accent. That had to be Astaroth, the twins’ father. How gross.

  The next few minutes were filled with lewd comments and shrill laughter from the rowdier Dukes.

  “Perhaps we need to roll her onto the stage.”

  “I’ve got something in my pocket for you, all right.”

  On and on it went.

  I ran through a series of emotions during those moments. Pure joy that I was saved. Revulsion at the treatment of this girl. Dread that I would have to sit through whatever they had planned for her.

  One of the Dukes threw something at Gerlinda, and suddenly there was a shower of junk food raining down. Baked goods, candies, cheese puffs. They had planned for this. I looked at my father’s table. He sat with Jezebet, Melchom, and Alocer, the fathers of Blake and Kope. The four of them watched with boredom, as if they were too cool to partake in the spectacle, but the vicious Dukes around them didn’t care.

  Food continued to hit Gerlinda, and tears slid down her rosy cheeks. She didn’t try to move or shield herself from it. My heart broke for her. I wondered if this poor woman was the sole reason for tonight’s summit, or if she was just a prelude to the main show.

  A tall, thin man with icy eyes and light hair stood up, pointing to the woman and shouting in German, “Gerlinda! Erhalten Sie auf der Bühne jetzt!” He pointed to the stage. It had to be her father, Kobal. His cheeks were red with anger. Gerlinda shook her head, and when she didn’t move he shoved his chair back, knocking it over, and made a beeline toward her. He grabbed her hard by the arm, and she screamed out as he pulled her to her feet, pushing and shoving her toward the stage. The Dukes cheered him on.

  I couldn’t watch. My stomach was in a tight, hard ball and everything good inside me cried out against the injustice. How many times in history had innocent people been brutalized while bystanders stood by and did nothing? Could I be one of those bystanders? I wanted to slam my eyes shut and cover my ears, but even if I couldn’t see or hear, I would know a terrible atrocity was being done.

  I doubted Gerlinda had a single person in her life who loved and encouraged her. Unlike drugs, food couldn’t be avoided. We all had to eat. Would I have done as well with my self-control if my sin were gluttony? I couldn’t imagine doing small amounts of drugs and not going overboard. It was all or nothing.

  When Kobal got his daughter on the stage, he stomped back to his table, receiving slaps on the backs from his “brothers” for his manhandling abilities.

  Gerlinda stood next to Rahab on the stage, slumping with silent sobs.

  Rahab sneered at her. “Enough with this sniveling. Your father was good enough to warn you years ago. He even went so far as to seek medical attention for you. Did you not undergo a surgical procedure?”

  Gerlinda nodded and let out a heart-wrenching cry, as if she were trying her best to hold it in but no longer had the strength. I clamped my teeth together and swallowed several times, blinking away the burn in my eyes.

  “So what is the problem then?” Rahab’s French drawl became harder to decipher as he shouted, and drops of spittle flew from his lips. “You allow your appetite to make you disloyal to our cause. Overindulgence is for humans. Not for Neph. Your kind need not seek enjoyment and comfort. You are nothing!”

  Rahab inclined his head to Pharzuph, who picked up a small round table sitting next to the stage. There were three plates on it, each with a different food item: chocolate cake, a hamburger, and a slice of lemon meringue pie. Pharzuph set the table in front of Gerlinda, and stepped down from the stage, joining the disorderly table of Dukes.

  “Since you have spent your life shoving food into your face, we are doing you the kindness of letting you eat your way out of this life. You get a choice, Neph girl. Aren’t you so lucky? Two of these delicacies contain poisons that will bring your death. One poison kills quickly. The other promises you will struggle, vomiting and bleeding until your guts are eaten away.” Rahab paused, allowing his malicious information to set in. “The third plate contains no poison at all. If you choose the food with no poison, you will be given one more year to prove yourself to us.”

  No. They couldn’t do this. My father and the other three at his table watched with polite disinterest, not sharing in the mirthful murmurs and occasional laughter. I wanted my dad to stop this; he must have felt my eyes, because he tilted his head to meet my stare. A vicious warning was issued to me in those brown eyes. He didn’t want me saying a word.

  My jaw quivered and I bit my bottom lip. My father went back to watching the show.

  “Which will it be, big Gerlinda?” Rahab waved a hand over the three plates. “Will your death be fast, or will you writhe in pain as the poison eats away your stomach lining?” He grinned at the cake. “Death by chocolate. I bet you never dreamed it would be so good.”

  “Take the chocolate!” one of the Dukes yelled. And then that whole rowdy table was calling out their choices, as if it were a game show.

  Feeling severely queasy, I scooted to the end of my chair, entranced. There was hope—she could choose the one without poison. I wanted to look at my friends but couldn’t take my eyes away from the stage. My father angled himself in the chair, scratching the side of his face with two fingers. He shot me a fast, stealthy glance and continued to move those two fingers up and down his face in an unnatural manner. Two. Two. A signal. His eyes darted to me again, and then to the table with the food.

  The second dish wasn’t poisoned! My father knew I had an ability that set me apart from other Neph. I was capable of mind influence, but none of the other Dukes knew it. They wouldn’t suspect me. I hoped I was close enough to the stage.

  “It is time to choose,” Rahab purred. Dukes were chanting their own choices, and the spirits above us bounced with anticipation, in constant movement. “Which one will you choose, Gerlinda? What will be the last flavor on your lips before you meet our revered leader?”

  She broke down now, shaking her head back and forth, crying, “Nein, nein, nein.”

  The second one, Gerlinda! I willed to her. Choose the hamburger!

  “Choose now, or I will choose for you,” Rahab said as her wails became incoherent. “And you can only imagine what I will pick.”

  She managed to lift the fork, shaking violently, and cut into the slice of lemon meringue pie. No! Several Dukes cheered when she chose the one they’d been vying for, and others booed.

  “Go ahead then, chérie.” Rahab smiled. “Enjoy it. I know we will.”

  Not the pie, Gerlinda! No! The burger has no poison! I leaned so hard against the table that it moved, and I almost fell forward. Gerlinda dropped the fork with a clatter and crammed her fingers into her temples, shutting her eyes.

  Good girl! I told her. It’s the second plate. That’s the one.

  Panting, she picked up the burger, and Rahab frowned. The pie Dukes hollered angrily at the change, and the burger Dukes raised a triumphant cheer. She held it in front of her face and grimaced as if it were a live rodent. And then, with a deep breath, she stopped crying and steeled herself. She took the bite.

  The room went silent. She chewed and chewed, bending over and dropping the rest of the burger on the plate, covering her mouth to keep from spitting it out. She swallowed the bite and placed both hands palms down on the table, gasping to catch her breath. Finally, after what felt like forever, she stood up straight, not looking at any of the Dukes. She lifted her chin and stared straight ahead. She had survived.

  When it became apparent she wasn’t going to give them a show, the Dukes went ballistic, standing and shaking their heads, shouting over one another. I slid back into my seat, biting back a smile. We did it!

  Rahab raised a hand to silence his fellow Dukes. They settled down and watched as he made a slow circle around Gerlinda, hands clasped behind his back.

  �
�Do you think you are a clever girl? Or merely a lucky one? Hm?” She did not respond, only continued to look dead ahead. Rahab sidled up next to her.

  “You were promised one year, yes?” She was silent. “It’s too bad for you that honesty is not our strong point.”

  He reached behind his back and pulled out a gun with a silencer, which he placed to her temple. The room went quiet, but the glee from the Dukes and spirits was palpable. Gerlinda closed her eyes, and Rahab’s hand tightened as he tensed to shoot.

  “No!”

  I was as surprised by my outburst as everyone else in the room. I pressed the fingertips of both hands against my lips. Every head in the room faced our group. My friends stared straight ahead like statues. I dropped my hands, knowing it was too late. I’d condemned myself.

  “Which one of you dares to speak out at this sacred summit?” Rahab demanded.

  Grabbing the table edge, I stood up, praying my friends would keep silent, unlike I had.

  “She’s mine.” My father also stood, wearing a dark expression of stress and annoyance. “She’s still in training. I should have warned her. She’s not used to our ways.”

  “That may be so, brother Belial,” Rahab said. “But the girl must be taught a lesson for her interference and insubordination.”

  “I agree. And I’ll take care of it. Let’s finish this meeting and get down to our real business out there.” He pointed upward toward the city, then turned and glared at me. “Now sit down, girl, and keep your mouth shut.”

  I sat.

  “That is not the proper protocol, brother.” Rahab’s tone was as irritated as that of a spoiled child who hadn’t gotten his way. “A breach such as hers should be dealt with immediately.”

  “With all due respect, Rahab,” said a mellow female voice. Everyone turned to Jezebet. “That may have been the case when there were thousands of Nephilim at our disposal. With their small ranks now, I personally believe punishments should be dealt at each Duke’s discretion. Kobal wanted his daughter’s to be public. Bravo to him. Belial wants his private. I say we allow it. I trust her suffering will be adequate. A little leverage for Belial, hm? It is his first offspring, after all.”

  Rahab snarled at her. “We will put it to a vote! All in favor of immediate punishment for this girl, raise your hand.”

  All but the four Dukes at my father’s table raised their hands. Eight to four. We lost. Fear coiled within me. My father stared around at the Dukes, cracking his neck, then his knuckles while working his jaw side to side. I regretted that my actions were putting him through this.

  For a moment during the summit, I’d let myself believe I would make it through the night after all. But there was something to be said about refusing to be a bystander. My heart was tender and vulnerable, but even now I refused to see that as a weakness.

  “Daughter of Belial, come forward. Now.” Rahab’s eyes bored into me, daring me to challenge him again—something that had probably never been done at a summit.

  I couldn’t feel my legs as I stood and began to walk. I wondered vaguely whether I looked as funny as I felt. There was a barrage of scratchy noises in my brain as the legion of demons whispered above me: hundreds of voices compounding like the sound of rushing wind through dry trees.

  I came up to the stage on my father’s side of his table, steering as clear as I could of Pharzuph, but it wasn’t far enough. As I stepped onto the stage next to Gerlinda I heard a cough and a theatrical gagging sound. Pharzuph waved a hand in front of his face. Drama king.

  “Good Hades, Belial! She’s still a virgin!” The Dukes all gasped.

  My father stood, leaning down on the table with fists like rocks and a face even harder, and told Pharzuph to mind his own business. He threw in some colorful words, and I got a clear image of the life he’d led with hardened criminals.

  “You think I don’t know she’s a virgin? She’s a virgin because I’ve damn well told her to stay one. It’s the leverage we’re using on a boy who’s proven to be a hard sell. She’s on the cusp of breaking him down, and her virginity will be gone by the time it’s over. It’s all been included in my reports to the boss, so shut your trap.”

  “Her odor is offensive,” Pharzuph said.

  “Deal with it.”

  “This virginity is not even necessary to lure men,” Pharzuph argued. “Women have been successfully fooling men into believing they’re virgins since the dawn of time.”

  “Enough!” scolded Rahab.

  He shoved Gerlinda backward, hollering for her to get out of his way. Before I could turn away he punched the side of my head and I staggered to the side, bending and catching myself with my hands on the floor. My ear rang and my head throbbed, but with slow movements I got to my feet. I kept my eyes down, scared to see the bloodlust in his eyes.

  I saw his arm lift and I braced myself. He hit the other side of my face. I didn’t fall this time, but I did let out a small cry from the sharp pain in my ear. Taking shallow breaths, I straightened again and balled my hands at my sides.

  I thought about the hilt. My dad said he would give me a sign if it was necessary to use it. At the moment his face was murderous. He kept still, so I did the same.

  Rahab moved beside me, setting the gun on the table.

  “Pick it up,” he told me. Was he serious? One look at his feral eyes told me he was. With a trembling hand I picked it up. It was heavier than it appeared. I held it in front of me.

  “To make amends for disrupting our session, you will complete it for us.”

  I swallowed and it got stuck in my dry throat. Rahab stepped back and pointed at Gerlinda.

  “You will kill her yourself.”

  My body’s immediate response was to shake my head back and forth. No. No. No.

  “Rahab...” My father’s voice came out even deeper than normal. But Rahab only grinned, knowing he’d chosen the perfect punishment. The fact that it bothered my father only sweetened the deal.

  “Either you kill her and live, or you both die.” He emitted a singular chuckle. Several Dukes joined him. Together their laughter rose until my scalp tingled.

  “You will obey me now, daughter of Belial. Raise the gun.”

  Gerlinda and I looked at each other for the first time since I’d gotten onstage. Her eyes held no hope. She believed I would kill her to save myself.

  “Brother Rahab,” one of the Dukes called to him, and tossed up another gun, which Rahab caught. He pointed it at my forehead. I held my breath. This was it. I was going to die, and my poor father and friends would have to watch.

  There was only one who could save me now. Please help me.

  “Last chance.” Rahab gloated, cocking the gun with a click.

  Scraping noises, like chairs pushing back, came from the side of the room where my friends sat. Before anyone had a chance to look, somebody shone a flashlight—no, a spotlight in the back of the room. Every head turned at once toward the blinding light.

  As confused and curious as I was, my mind wandered back to the noise I’d heard. I tore my eyes from the growing light to find Kopano and Kaidan standing. A knife gleamed in Kaidan’s hand.

  Sit down! I willed to them, panicked. They both wavered, and Kopano sat. Kaidan’s eyes locked on mine. I pleaded with him as he stood there, obstinate. The light was further brightening the room, distracting anyone who might have noticed our interaction.

  Dukes shielded their eyes, even my father, and Rahab’s gun arm dropped to his side.

  Please sit, I willed to Kaidan once more, begging. And this time he did.

  A sudden peace rolled over me, ironing out the creases of anxiety and fear in my soul.

  The light was now a gaping, bright hole in the back wall, blinding, and from it walked an angel, then another, and another, until their ranks filled every open space in the room. These were not the sweet-natured type of angels that guarded humans. These were warrior angels, brimming with justice. They wore armor that shimmered like the hilt. Each had flowi
ng hair of differing lengths and enormous white wings. Everything about these angels was fierce and ethereal, stoic and gallant. I could barely breathe.

  The Dukes stumbled, pressing back toward the stage. Gone were their cheers and jeers. The demon spirits above us flattened themselves to the ceiling, hissing like cornered alley cats.

  “Wh-wha—” Rahab caught himself stuttering and stood up straighter. “How dare you come here!”

  “We go where we are sent,” answered the angel in the center.

  “Yes, yes, of course you do,” Rahab spit. “No minds of your own. What do you want?”

  “You will not kill the daughter of Belial.” The room went ghostly quiet. My heart soared.

  “The Nephilim have never been your concern. They are ours!”

  “Nothing on earth is yours, dark one.”

  Rahab turned beet red, droplets of foam forming at the corners of his mouth. “Your kind is not supposed to interfere in our work! We’ve been granted the right to test humanity and deal with our own ranks.”

  “It is not her time.” The angel regarded me. “She will serve as a test to many souls.”

  There was a dense pause. And then Rahab smiled.

  “Fine. It is not her time now.” He waved the gun at me. “But it is hers.” Before anyone could stop him, he pointed the gun at Gerlinda’s forehead and fired. I screamed at the sickening crack and spray of blood. She fell back, hitting the wall and sliding down, dead. Her spirit wrenched itself from the body and was captured by two Legionnaire spirits who swept her from our sight.

  The gun I held clattered to the floor and I crouched down. I was so certain Rahab would go against the angel’s orders and try to kill me, too, that I felt for the hilt at my ankle. My hand found the leather cover and fumbled to open it.

  The ranks of angels moved toward the stage in unison, filled with righteous anger. None of the Dukes dared move. Rahab stumbled back as several angels surrounded me in a circle of protection.

  A long-haired angel noticed what I was doing and swooped down, shielded from view by his brethren.