"I have put many miles between who I am and where I came from, but no matter how fast I run, the demons are never far behind."
Velius stood out at the beach over-looking the water with the sun high in its noon-time position. He wanted to go back to his life of wandering the world and nights of pleasure, but lately it had seemed as though there was always something getting the way. First it was the task of releasing his mother from Hell. That should have taken no time at all and been nothing more than a momentary hiccup in his life. Then other things happened . . . things he had been sworn to secrecy on. There had been a brief moment when he had attempted to contact his father, Lucifer, and let him know what was happening. He deserved to know, but the devil never answered his phone. Now the Nephilim was stuck in a bad position and angry at both of his parents. All he wanted to do was walk away from the both of them and return to his own life, but there was something else he needed to do.
Turning to face the parking lot he noticed he was being watched. He had seen the man before. It was a priest whose grey hair had receded so far that it had taken up residence as a beard and mustache leaving the top of his head smooth as an egg. His narrow eyes looked out from beneath his heavy brows and his general stance and expression seemed almost severe. Velius had no idea who the priest was, but he had noticed him once or twice before and he didn't like his demeanor. Something about the way he watched him, made him feel as though he were under a microscope. Even so, the Nephilim was all for leaving well enough alone. After-all, it the man hadn't really done anything.
Putting the priest out of mind, the half-breed angel walked over to the parking lot and got on his motorcycle then drove off to the J Paul Getty Museum. His interest was less in the great works of art and more in talking to a man that he knew liked to eat his lunch there. He walked through the galleries until he found the current exhibit of artwork by Gustave Doré. There were pieces on display that Doré had created for 'The Raven', 'Don Quixote', the Bible, 'Paradise Lost' and more. All of it was finely detailed and rich in shadows and style.
Seated on one of the grey plush benches sat Warren Taylor, quietly savoring his turkey and cheese sandwich. His twinkling eyes momentarily looked up over his narrow glasses at an illustration of the angels in paradise then back down at the book he held in his dark gnarled hands. Velius walked up and sat down next to the old man. Neither looked at each other.
"Do you suppose the Silver City really looks like that?" Warren asked, continuing to look down at his book.
"Don't know, don't care. I' not exactly permitted to enter. If you want to know then ask Mazikeen or any of my other siblings since they built it. Of course I can't vouch for your safety if you choose to approach them." His answer was sharp and cold, but the old man wasn't bothered by it. He simply looked over at the Nephilim and displayed his usual knowing grin.
"I don't suppose you could tell me how accurate Dante's description of Hell is?" He gestured towards the book in his hand, but Velius was not in the mood for a trivial conversation.
"No. I want answers from you for a change."
"Of course, I'm willing to answer any questions you have," he answered, wiping stray crumbs and a trace of mustard from his mouth with a napkin.
"Why are you interested in my mother? It's obviously not lust so what is it? What are you hoping to gain?"
"Perhaps I am just intrigued by being in the presence of a living myth."
"I don't think so, or you would also be trying to spend time with my father," Velius pointed out.
"I should think you would want to spend time with your father. You've spent countless ages unable to be acknowledged by him and now that you have the opportunity to forge a relationship you would prefer to travel the world. To some that would seem a peculiar choice," Warren pointed out before taking another bite of his sandwich.
"A few months ago you might have been right, but right now my father is acting like an idiot. Both of my parents are . . ."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with his sudden interest in Eve, would it?" The corner of the old man's mouth curled slightly as he pictured the diminutive second female dressed in one of her favorite dresses with its plunging neckline. Her facial expression doing its best to be alluring, but only succeeding at appearing conniving.
"She is only one of a few things. If my father would have simply picked up his damn phone and talked to me then perhaps some better decisions could have been made," Velius snarled.
"Well I think this whole Eve thing . . ."
"Not just Eve, it everything. He's too blind and foolish to realize that he should just be patient and let the detective wrap her head around him being the devil and not take everything so damned personal. If he did then maybe he wouldn't have fallen for the original whore's over-used tricks. You would also think that after all this time, the detective would have figured out that my father is a little fragile when it comes to her opinion. Evidently, the amazing gut instinct that my father used to say Chloe had must have gone on permanent hiatus or something. No one expects her to jump into his arms, but some basic decency would be nice. As for my mother . . . she should have bloody-well walked in and told dear old dad she was out of Hell, but instead . . . well, the whole bloody lot of them can rot in Hell for all I care."
"I believe Detective Decker was working with Lucifer before the unfortunate incident that sent your mother back to Hell," Warren pointed out. He had only observed them that once evening in the library, but he hadn't noticed any tension. "She still is."
"Yes, they work together, but they still have yet to clear the air or address the issues. Mum said that they were cordial but Dad stands there waiting . . . hoping to catch her eye." Velius stared up at the illustration again. The image of angels walking through this majestic tunnel of clouds towards the light was amazing, but not a world that he could ever experience. He looked back over at the old man carefully zipping up his lunch box and making sure his bookmark was in place before closing his book. "You still have not answered my question. Why are you so interested in my mother?"
For a moment Warren sat there silently considering his answer. When Marcus Pierce had originally hired him years ago to be his eyes and ears in LA, he hadn't really believed in the supernatural. He believed in books and the written word. In writing anything was possible and books had always brought him knowledge and more equality then he sometimes felt in life. The more obscure the text the more interested he became. This was the case when he thumbed through a series of old religious documents while working at the Philosophical Research Society Library. Stored with other books that dealt with the devil and Satanism, they were brought to him because they had fallen into disrepair. Warren lovingly and painstakingly restored the documents and in the process studied their contents. The writing contained information regarding a prophecy about the devil which at first the old man paid little attention to.
What changed his mind about the supernatural was seeing the face of Lucifer Morningstar in the paper after a pop singer known as Delilah was killed outside his club. He had seen that face before as a boy in New Jersey. His mother worked as a maid at a Hotel and he remembered vividly that same man checking in with his arms around two women and calling himself Lucifer Morningstar. The next day the tall dark-haired man tipped him several dollars just for bringing him a newspaper. A rather large tip at the time, but it had enabled Warren to purchase his first copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
After seeing the devil in the news, the old man returned to those old documents and looked up the prophecy. He copied its words in a notebook then began his research. Things got more interesting when he was unexpectedly shown the lost and mythical Lilith scrolls. Meeting the Queen of Demons herself was even more eye-opening, but the prophecy remained words without meaning to him. It was vague and open-ended which made it that much harder to interpret. He consulted scholars and theologians but none could give him an exact meaning. It wasn't until he witnessed the devil's reaction to his friend and mistress being shot that the cogs in his mind began turning. Once or twice he quietly snuck into the hospital and watched the way Lucifer held her hand and sat with before he inevitably released her back to Hell. Something in the devil's eyes and manner struck the old man and he began to form his own interpretation of the prophecy.
"Have you ever read or studied divination?" Warren asked. He never looked at the Nephilim next to him, but at the illustration as he contemplated all things Heaven and Hell.
"No. It doesn't interest me."
"You should. I had the opportunity to look through some ancient writing about a year ago and discovered a prediction that intrigued me. I can't remember the exact phrasing, but it had something to do with the devil leaving Hell to walk the earth and finding his first love. The part I found the most interesting was the end. The old language spoke of a great 'change'. It's an interesting word choice because 'change' can be good or bad. I did more research and found that only a few scholars and theologians were familiar with the prophecy and those that were had different interpretations. Some think great evil will be released upon the world and others think it will be the end times. Now I am no theologian, nor do I pretend to have the intellect of a true scholar. What I do know is I have had the pleasure of looking into the face of the devil as well as those of his circle. I'm also confident that those who know about the prophecy are completely unaware of your existence."
"Y-you think I am this change, this . . . great evil?" Velius was offended by the notion. He wanted nothing from the world except to go his own way.
"I briefly considered it, but now I don't think so."
"Surely you don't think Eve is his first love."
"No." Warren expressed with such conviction that the Nephilim beside him couldn't help but laugh slightly. "Eve is nothing more that fluff. Oh, she's pretty enough, but her character is empty. She has no usefulness beyond filling space and being a distraction."
"He loves the detective. I'm afraid my father would turn his back on me if it got him an inch closer to Chloe Decker." Velius commented with a half-hearted laugh.
"I think you underestimate your father," The elderly man returned, his ink black eyes twinkling a though he knew better. "I do not doubt the strong feelings he has for the detective, but I also know there is a definite bond between your parents."
"My parents? Those two are dysfunction incarnate."
"Perhaps, but I think there is love between them."
"I don't know about dad, but mum loves him. I have seen her live according to her own pleasure and take whatever pleases her, except where the devil is concerned. At least that's how it was before Halloween. She certainly took what she desired from him then," Velius commented bitterly. "I could kill darling uncle Mikey over that stray feather she swallowed. If he hadn't accidentally healed her then none of this would have happened and I wouldn't have been asked to correct the mistake." He could still hear the sound of his mother's scream and see the scar on her flesh. The Nephilim knew that Lilith had felt guilt and shame over that night and that disfigurement was an act of penance. He kicked at the plush carpet with his feet then decided it would be best to change the subject. "This prophesy . . . who else knows about it?"
"In the LA area? I've spoken to several online but the only one in this area was a priest. I don't his name or what he looks like. I only saw his user name DwalinPreacher." At Warren's mention of a priest, Velius immediately looked concerned.
"There was a priest watching me at the beach. You don't think . . ."
"Be careful son of the Morningstar." The old man rose from his seat and carefully straightened his sweater vest as Velius contemplated what this strange prophecy meant for him. Suddenly another thought came to mind and all the color drained from his face. He suddenly understood who the old man believed was the 'change' the potential evil on this earth. It was someone only known to Lilith, Warren and himself. He looked up in horror at Warren Taylor.
"It's Inara! You think she's . . ."
"I think it will be in our best interest to keep her under our protection and tell no one about her until the danger has passed. You may have to be someone that even the demons fear."
