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this through a vision, she could feel the love, the utter warmth, pulled out of her as the light
faded.
 On this day we shall take a stand. We shall inherit the earth. Those who are with me, make
your decision now. Asmodeus brought his arms up, and she had a distinct feeling he was
speaking to the light.  Those who are against me, heed my warning. I shall not be denied what
has been given unto the humans. Free will.
A chorus of cheers went up, and the resounding roar gave way to only two words free will.
That vision faded, replaced with a small, comfortable-looking domestic scene. A cauldron
hung on a hook in a stone fireplace, and an older woman sat by the fire, a wooden spoon in
her hand. The door to the cottage opened, and Asmodeus walked in.
Michael s voice penetrated through Brianna s mind, a whisper invading her thoughts.  That is
Asmodeus s wife. He failed to mention to her what he was, and she has grown old as he has
remained youthful. The passage of time was harder on humans back then. They aged quickly.
She no longer trusts him, yet still, he lies to her.
 Isabel. Asmodeus greeted her with a kiss to her forehead. Isabel pulled away, flinching
visibly.
Brianna pushed away the sharp sting of jealousy. This was Asmodeus s wife. The mother of
his children.
Asmodeus ignored her as two boys shuffled into the cottage. The oldest resembled his mother,
but had his father s eyes. He held two rabbits in his hands. The light in his eyes spoke of
strength and determination. He seemed ready to take on the world.
The youngest resembled Asmodeus. Though he was all arms and legs, no older than seven or
eight years old, his face was the spitting image of his father. He flounced over to his mother
and threw his arms around her.
She smiled and kissed the top of his head.  Jorian brought home supper, though I pointed to
the rabbits, Mama. I saw them first.
The boy Jorian put his bow and arrows in the corner of the cottage and went back outside
without a word.
Asmodeus came to kneel next to his wife, and Isabel positioned herself as far from him as she
could. Asmodeus, the pain in his eyes evident, ruffled the young boy s hair and left the
cottage.
Again the scene faded, and Michael s voice broke the silence.  Because of his actions, he
created a race of demonic creatures. I believe you recall your own encounter with one of
them.
The next vision slammed into her. Asmodeus was bloody and fighting for each breath he took.
Isabel was screaming, holding onto a young man. He had been the young boy in her earlier
vision, now a few years older, and he clung to his mother s skirts.
They stood beside the cottage that she instinctively knew was their home. Chaos ensued
around them, men running, women screaming. Bodies of Nephilim and young men littered the
ground. The cottage was engulfed in flames, the orange glow eerie against the black, star-
covered sky. Isabel looked terrified, yet the young boy was remarkably calm in spite of the
circumstances.
Asmodeus stood before them.
Tears coursed down Asmodeus s face, mixing with dirt and blood.
 Stay away from him. You are the devil. You are evil! Isabel clutched the boy to her chest,
bending down and wrapping her arms around him as Asmodeus slowly advanced.
 Go into the dwelling, Isabel. Now.
Isabel glanced beyond him as a man ran his sword through a young girl. The girl s scream
was cut short. She crumbled to the ground. As if that wasn t disturbing enough, the man
brought his sword down on the tiny body one last time.
The girl s head was severed from her body.
Asmodeus s wife became even more hysterical.  Leave him. Leave Bael to me!
Asmodeus kept walking, finally reaching her and wrapping his hand around Bael s arm. The
little boy didn t cower. He only looked at his mother with wide, tear-filled eyes.
Isabel went wild. She hit Asmodeus, and he allowed her to take Bael from his grip.
Bael smoothed his mother s thin, graying hair from her face.  It will be fine, Mother. I love
you. It will be fine. He hugged his mother, then turned to his father.
Asmodeus shrank away from him.
Again, the little boy was the reassurance in the situation.  I understand, Father. I don t want to
be like them. He held out his tiny hand.  Father, will it hurt?
A gut-wrenching sob escaped Asmodeus s lips. He didn t answer his son as he led him away,
the sword in his hands red from Jorian s blood. This she realized from some instinct.
Somehow Michael was giving her details that seemed to be important. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]