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“Why?”
His question shouldn’t have stumped me. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it made me pause. He asked it in the way I would speak to a child who knew nothing of the world. The opportunity to learn wrapped up in the slow drawl of the question.
I was not a child.
“Because.” And yet this childish argument was the only one I had.
“Because mortals have such a good understanding of how things work? Ones who summon demons they don’t believe in and pray to angels while they carry out their wicked ways?” He grinned, capturing me once more with the depths of his dark eyes.
I frowned. “The Bible says so.”
“The what?”
“The Bible.”
Asmodeus stared at me as though I were speaking a language he couldn’t understand.
Annoyance rocked me as I shoved off him. I got to my feet, testing my weight on my foot and was surprised when not even a pinch of pain moved through my ankle or thigh. Knowing I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about that too much and argue with a demon, I stalked over to the bookshelves and crouched, knowing just where I kept the book in case Gran or Abuela came to visit. With the worn and leather-bound King James Bible in hand, I stalked back to the sofa and held it out to him. I held it like some holy thing that made me feel ridiculous, knowing just how detached I was from the religion that had been inked on my skin by the people in my life until I grew into my own and scrubbed it off.
“The Bible,” I repeated.
Asmodeus stood, taking the book from my hands without hesitation.
“Wait!”
He opened it, flipping through the thin pages.
My brow cocked. I expected him to howl in pain. For him to touch the book and burn. For the darkness in him to be quelled by the righteous word of God. How… disappointing. Disillusioning, maybe? I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was peculiar, to say the least, to see him holding the book and flipping through it as though it were any other. As though it wasn’t this powerful thing that had been used to crumble civilizations and was still responsible for wars today.
He flipped the pages back and forth before he shook his head. “Is this a spellbook?”
“No, it’s…” What? I had no idea how to explain it to him. I just expected him to know what it was. To cringe at the mention of angels and balk at the book like evil things did in the movies. He leafed through it like it was a mystery novel he had no attachment to.
“A book,” he finished for me.
Frustrated, I let out a little growl. “Well, yes but also… no. It’s more than that. It’s the word of the Lord.” I all but cringed at the words I would have scoffed at before I stood with a demon in my living room.
“The… Lord. That is the author of this book?”
“Yes.” I closed my eyes and shook my head, my thoughts turning over. “Well… actually. No. He’s…” I waved my hands as though conjuring the answer before embarrassment moved through me and I folded them into fists. “A deity. The creator.”
“Of what?”
Was he kidding? “Everything.”
Asmodeus laughed. “The creator of everything gave you this book?”
“Yes. No.” Well… hell.
“Yes. No,” he repeated. “Do you know the answer to anything, Eden? Or do you merely give all the answers and hope one sticks?”
“Christians and Catholics and well… a lot of others believe it is.” I was beginning to realize this was an impossible thing to explain.
He merely shrugged like that meant nothing. “I care nothing for the author of this book, though I can assure you the author is not the creator of everything. I’m more interested in the author of the book you used to call me here.”
“People banish demons with that book!” I don’t know why I was so adamant to have him understand. It was like I had decided to walk away from something so long ago, to tell myself that very book was nothing but a book but now he was standing there telling me it was true and that made me feel… scared.
It was a silly thing to realize.
