Samael turned to me. He looked at me like I was the biggest mistake of the world. "I'm like them," he said softly. "We take pawns like you and Arietta. Eve is disgraced in the eyes of God. Defiled, by one like I." He sighed, rubbing his brow. "Perhaps it is our nature. To make toys of mortals, not caring what misery we bring them. Nephilim bastards and humans alike, in a war that has no end. My war? Dear God, I don't know."
Death turned from me, stalking down the corridor. "Purity," he spat. "To hell with it. Fathers are only there to curse you."
I looked down at my skin. Unmarked. Unmarred. I wore no scars upon me.
"You see yourself in Michael, don't you?" I asked.
"No, Shannon." He closed the distance between us, eyes hollow. "I see the misery I have wrought in him. All the pain my work has born." He tucked a tendril of my hair behind his ear. It rustled faintly, like the serpent crown of before.
