“See?”
Zayne’s grin kicked up a notch. “Got a question for you, Cayman. Do you feel anything when you’re around me?”
Cayman lowered his can of soda. “Depends on what you mean.”
Remembering how Purson had reacted to Zayne, I followed where he was leading with that question. “I think he’s talking about if you can sense what he is?”
“Other than the wings being a dead giveaway?” Cayman’s dark brows knitted. “Where are they, anyway?”
“I have them.” Zayne turned, giving Cayman a view of his back.
The demon let out a low whistle as he saw the markings. “Incognito. Nice. I haven’t seen that since angels worked side by side with man.”
My brows climbed up my forehead. “How old are you?”
“Old enough that I’ve seen entire civilizations fall only to be reborn,” Cayman replied.
“All righty, then,” I murmured.
“But to answer your question, you definitely don’t feel like a Warden.” His forehead creased as he studied Zayne. “You feel different.” His head tilted, sending a sheet of black hair over his shoulder. “But if I hadn’t seen the wings, I wouldn’t have known what you are.”
“How is that?” I asked, shifting from one foot to the next. Weariness was creeping into my muscles. It had been a long couple of days, and a day’s worth of sleep hadn’t gone as far as I thought it would.
“I guess it’s the same thing that prevents most demons from sensing that you’re a Trueborn. Some kind of heavenly shield attached to the grace, I suppose.”
“Could you sense a normal Fallen—one without its grace?” I asked, wondering if I could sense one myself.
Cayman nodded. “They feel like...like a very powerful demon. Not exactly but similar.” He leaned against the back of the couch. “Any demon worth its name will be able to pick up the aura of power around you, but their minds would never put holy and crap together and end up with a Fallen as the reason why. There just hasn’t been one roaming around for, well, since the Wardens came out of their shells. Obviously.”
“Interesting.” Zayne glanced over at me. “That is something that could be of benefit.”
“Yeah, except your little Targaryen burn-them-all moment Saturday night made it clear there was a Fallen on the scene—one with his wings and grace. I’m sure that’s spread farther and wider than obvious fake news on social media,” Cayman said. I guessed Purson wasn’t included in the DC Demons Facebook group or something. “Especially considering the way you feel reminds me of only one other being.”
My stomach tumbled. I knew who he was referencing. Lucifer.
“How does it feel, though?” Cayman asked. “Knowing where you really come from?”
“Honestly? Doesn’t feel good or bad. It just...makes sense.” Zayne briefly glanced at the demon. “Who I am or even who I was has nothing to do with ancestors who lived some thousands of years ago.”
“You’re such a disappointment,” Cayman muttered.
“Really?” Zayne replied.
“Yeah, because you’re so damn well adapted.” Cayman pouted. “It’s no fun to mess with you about your less than holy origins if it doesn’t bother you.”
“Sorry.” Zayne strode toward me. He took my hand, pulling me toward the couch. “Sit with me?”
“Of course,” I murmured, grateful to not be standing the moment my butt hit the cushion.
“But now I understand why Roth said some of the things he said,” Zayne added as he sat beside me. “And also surprised he’s managed to keep that to himself.”
“You and me both.”
“Even Roth follows some rules,” Cayman said.
Something occurred to me then. “You know what I don’t understand?”
“How humans still think climate change is junk science?” Cayman suggested.
“Yeah, that also, but—”
“Bitcoins?” he offered up next. “Because even I don’t understand Bitcoins and I’ve seen all manner of money.”
I frowned. “No. I’m not talking about Bitcoins. How did the future Wardens end up getting created? There weren’t any female Fallen, right? There’s no female angels.”
“Who says there aren’t any female angels?” Cayman asked, turning around so he was facing us.
I blinked rapidly. “I’ve never seen nor heard of one.”
“There are female angels,” Zayne confirmed. “I saw a few.”
“Wait. For real? What did they look like?”
“They looked like...female angels,” he said.
“That’s real helpful.” I turned to Cayman. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this? Why is there no mention of a female angel in any—wait.” I held up my hand. “I honestly don’t even need that answered. The patriarchy.”
“Yep.” Cayman nodded. “And that’s a human construct. Can’t even blame us demons for that.”
“Okay. So there were female angels who Fell?”
“I bet you won’t be surprised to hear that no female angels have ever gotten themselves kicked out of Heaven,” Cayman said. “Not because they never questioned anything. It’s just that they actually questioned things in a logical, thoughtful manner instead of acting like general fools.”
“No,” I muttered. “Not surprised at all to hear that.”
“Anyway, remember the thing where God flooded the Earth to rid the world of the nephilim offspring that resulted from naughty-fun times before the Fallen were cast to stone? Well, God didn’t get all of them.”
Zayne draped my braid over my shoulder. “There were only a few human women whose genetics matched up with Wardens’, allowing them to become pregnant with a Warden. Come to find out, those women were all descendants of the children of those who Fell.”
“Watered-down nephilim,” Cayman said.
“Watered-down Trueborns,” I muttered, thinking all of that sounded potentially incestuous. I was just going to hope that the first generation of Wardens had hooked up with women who weren’t their offspring, and leave it at that.
Besides, I needed to be more worried about the functionality of my own womb.
“So what was it like?” Cayman asked, picking up a small box of animal crackers before all but rolling over the back of the couch and into a corner of the sectional. “The whole dying thing? I’m curious. You know—’cuz I’ve never died.”