Chapter 1

The Sibling Affliction

The flames roared and licked at Éponine's legs as she stood by The Aztec; in the city of Flames. They were but a mild tingling in her thighs. Red leaped around her, and newcomers screamed from their houses as flames ripped from the least expected places.

Éponine's two-inch heels were just short enough to give her balance, just tall enough to draw attention to her long legs. She paused at the large mansion, hand reaching for the boiling hot metal that was the door knob. To her, though, it was a bare numbness.

Her fingers closed around it and twisted. A blast of sparks hit her in the face, but for the demon, it was old news. She walked down a long hall, then turned, ascending a set of stairs. The loud voice of her father and his men made her cringe.

As she stood before them, they stopped talking, their attention trapped by the fabric pressing against her breasts, or her legs. Perverts, she thought, crossing the threshold into the doorless room. Clearing his throat, Thenardier spoke up. "I see your mother's dressed you up well?"

"Yes," Éponine said, scarlet lips pursing. "I look like Eklir like this."

They shuddered as they thought of the Head Whore of the Four Sisters.

"Indeed you do. This will be good. Which one are you targeting?" Montparnasse said, his green eyes watching her closely. Éponine smiled at him. The only decent one of the lot, in her opinion. And he wasn't that decent.

"Don't know his name. He always freaks out at the slightest thing," she explained, and then mimicked her prey. "Oh, I'm going to get tuberculosis, oh I'm going to get cancer. A bit rude to strangers, if it weren't for how goddamn happy he is all the time."

"Is he rich?" asked Claquesous, leaning forward eagerly.

"I think so, judging by what he's wearing. And I don't think people of our class can afford to be picky about diseases."

Thenardier scowled at the reminder of their social standing. "Anyway, get going," he grumbled.

Smirking, Éponine turned on her heels, shoes clicking against the floor. "'Ponine," he then called.

Éponine turned her head, and struggled not to let her face twist in disgust at the man. But obviously she hid it, because he just nodded. "Say hi to your Mom for me."

"'Kay," she muttered, not really listening to what he had asked.

And thus, she walked out of a house that did not belong to her.

Even for demons, the Great Crater was almost too hot to bear. If you wanted to crawl up the sides, you'd be crawling on a million embers that were ten thousand times hotter than a fireplace.

Éponine stopped and looked up at the crack of blue sky, a tiny shatter in the Earth's crust.

Éponine's wings sprung from her back, black leather creating a large shadow against the ground. She started to transform, her pupils dilating and her fangs increasing in length.

Éponine's wings then beat, and she took to the air, fighting her way through the almost-unbearable heat, ascending from the crater. She fell upon the earth, sweat dripping from her brow.

After a brief rest, once her breath had been caught, she took to the skies once more. This time she kept herself low, watching for her prey. Eventually she caught his scent.

Éponine descended in a deserted alley. Glancing around for safety measures, she sprinted through the shadows. She stepped onto the main street, entering the world of people.

Some here were angels, and some were human. Demons were forbidden in the Upper World. But Éponine disobeyed rules all the time. A flash of brown hair caught her attention.

Chuckling in triumph, the demon-dressed-seductress walked up behind him. The fishnet stockings cut into her legs, making her limp. Seeing that the Monsieur was alone, she walked ahead, glanced at his pocket, and then fell back again.

She placed a foot in front of his own and he tripped. Éponine herself collided with the footpath. While he was unaware, she slipped his wallet out of his pocket, and converted it to her left hand.

Her eyes widened as she saw his face. Marius' friend.

Preparing for anger, she winced.

"Mademoiselle, are you okay?"

Éponine froze in confusion. "Y-yes," she stammered.

His brows furrowed. "Have you grazed anything? Anything in danger of infection?"

"No."

The man sighed in relief. "That's good. Anyway, I'm Joly."

"I'm Éponine," she smiled.

Joly didn't shake her hand, he just nodded.

"I am very sorry, Mademoiselle."

"It's fine."

Éponine glanced at the wallet in her hand. Hesitating, she held it out to him. "You dropped this," she whispered.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle."

Éponine winced, because she could already feel a phantom belt buckle swatting her cheek.

Quickly, Éponine turned on her heels and ran. Joly turned back to walking to the Café.

"You didn't get it?" Thenardier paced the room in a rage. This was their actual house, a crappy slum, where she lacked even a bed.

The fireplace roared in the City of Perpetual Winter. Éponine was used to the cold, but it still clung to her bones at night. She watched her father, not letting any fear flow from her eyes.

"Dad, he ran away before I could get to him!" She rolled her eyes nervously.

"You're a demon, he's a motherfucking human. You are supposed to be ten times as fast!"

Éponine sighed. "You're right, I am a demon, and that was the Upper World. I'd be thrown in jail and executed."

She, at least, had a free conscience, to soothe herself.

Thenardier then turned to her, his dark eyes a mirror of her own. "You know what this means," he growled.

Éponine smiled, and got to her feet. "Hit me," she said.

Thenardier shook his head, and grabbed one of the Thenardier brands, which had been heating up for one of Babet's guns. Grabbing Éponine by the shoulder, he spun her around, lifted her shirt, and slammed the red-hot branding iron into her back. Éponine screeched.

A demon does not feel the heat unless it actually touches them. And in that moment, it was pressed against her very back. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heard the sizzling of her flesh.

"As punishment for not getting the money," he continued, "You will be getting an even more dangerous task. A policeman."

Éponine opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by a kick to the shins. "You will do it, Daughter of mine, or it'll be your sister getting the stick."

Éponine could only nod before her father let her drop to the ground.

That night in her room, she clutched her knees to her body, the floor freezing her once more. The wind blew snowflakes through the cracks, and frost settled on her dark hair, and turning her lips purple.

"'Ponine?" A young voice yanked her out of her dreams. Her little sister watched her out of hazel eyes.

Éponine's seductress clothes from before were discarded in the far corner of their small bedroom, traded for a large shirt Montparnasse had given her.

It was only slightly warmer than them, and it hung loosely around her body. Her scarlet lipstick was gone, along with the rest of the makeup.

Éponine looked over to where her sister sat, mirroring Éponine's position.

The eldest Thenardier crawled over to the colder mattress of her sister and wrapped her arms around Azelma.

"'Zelma?" she asked, kissing Azelma's forehead.

"Is Dad mad at you?"

Éponine could still feel the red hot iron pressing into her back, accompanied by white agony. She'd actually seen the borders of her vision blurring. She'd hoped for death.

"Only a little," Éponine lied.

"Oh. Okay." Éponine could hear the disbelief in Azelma's voice.

"It'll be a little dangerous tomorrow. That's the punishment he gave me."

"But he hurt you too," Azelma blinked.

"I know. But he always hurts us, 'Zelma. He always will. But hopefully one day I'll be able to raise you on my own."

"They don't let us do that in the Underworld. You know that."

"I like to dream."

Éponine was once again stuck in the cool of Upper Earth. For a moment she cast her eyes upwards, to the clouds upon which rested Highest Earth. She was dressed as casually as possible, a pinch of skin-coloured lip-gloss for the innocence and modesty she needed.

Ah, yes, this was what she preferred, a skin-coloured tee-shirt compared to tight seductress-clothes (as she called them).

From where she was, her prey's scent was strong, snaking into her lungs. Éponine saw that he was fast, and snuck around a short cut. Hiding in the alley, she saw him coming closer. At the last minute she walked out and pretended to be casual once more. She could see his wallet, bulging at the seams. Licking her lips, Éponine ran forward.

They collided, but Éponine gripped his wallet as he went down, quickly slipping it into her own pocket. "I'm so sorry!" she gasped.

Getting down on her knees, she clasped his hands. "Are you okay?" The feigned worry was obviously convincing because he didn't look at her suspiciously.

Suddenly his hand struck her cheek. Hard.

She swayed but stayed firm.

"Get the fuck away from me, you ugly wench," he hissed.

"I'm so sorry."

Éponine turned and walked.

"Give me back my wallet!"

She started to run.

Éponine sprinted through the streets, rainwater splashing behind her. "Thief! That's a thief!"

It took every ounce of her willpower not to fly away. If that happened, a single look would show whom she was, and to be found above the Underworld was to be executed.

She screamed. "He's lying! That asshole's a liar!"

For a moment her foot slipped, and she quickly grabbed onto the nearest signpost, lifting herself up, before turning into an alley.

It was a dead end. She hurled herself at the brick wall, and her fingers found clefts in the rough surface. Using every ounce of her upper body strength, she dragged herself up, brick scraping at her legs. Once Éponine was on the roof, she looked around her. The police were at the bottom, calling for backup. She ran slowly along the tops of the wall.

Éponine climbed even higher at the next wall. Taking care not to fall, she got to her feet at the top.

She was above the city. What looked like a million roofs lay below her, some metal, some tiled, and some marble. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, to where people had started to find the cracks, she leaped from her perch.

Hands and knees crashed into a metal roof and she dug her nails into the cold metal, the vile sound of scraping making her shudder. Getting to her feet again, she jumped from roof to roof, as though she were a bird.

A noise behind her made her startle. She whirled around and saw one of the angel police ascending from below.

Éponine scampered quickly. It was even harder not to let the leather burst from her shoulders, just above the blistering brand on her back. But if she were caught, her own region would not provide her help.

Taking a final leap, her shoes skidded on the slabs of brick. She fell, and the only thing that stopped her from severing her spine was her thick skin. As she fell, she struggled to turn herself over.

Suddenly large hands clasped her shoulders, stopping her from falling. She screamed as they set her upon the ground. At the entrance of the alley was a police car. "Get in, you'll make it easier for yourself."

"Fuck off!"

"Is that a smart thing to say?"

Éponine clawed at his arms. Finally he got her into the car.

Sighing, she crossed her arms. "It was only a little robbery!" she protested.

"You robbed a police officer, which means three days, and you clawed at him, which counts as assault. Three weeks and three days."

"No!" she screeched. She had to get out, but of course they'd locked the door.

The police car moved and she watched the buildings pass by.

Éponine, in an attempt to watch someone else's pain, went for teasing.

"Ugly place, this city is. Tell me, have you ever visited the Great Crater?"

"That place will burn you to death in a single touch, if you're human," he grumbled.

"Gee, people must love inviting you to parties."

"I have no time for parties. Not when we have people like you running around," and then he added, just loud enough for her to hear, "little demon."

Éponine fought the urge to laugh out loud. You have no idea.

She watched him eagerly; plotting about the different ways she could ruin his life.

The anger returned as the prison came into view and she forced herself to keep a straight face as they took her mug shot, and then she was tossed into the cell.

"Fuck!" she hissed, getting up and sitting on the bed.

"This is perfect isn't it, 'Ponine. I bet your Papa will be so pleased. You've totally earned yourself his approval. He certainly won't be beating your sister now, will he?" she muttered to herself.

Resting her head on the bed, Éponine fell asleep. She wouldn't allow the nosey guards the pleasure of seeing her in distress. The only thing she worried about was her sister. Actually, Éponine had been going on two hours of sleep for about two years. There would be a lot of sleep in the weeks to come.

Or so she thought. The next day, there were footsteps in the hall, and a flashlight shone in her eyes. "Go away!" she groaned, turning over and pressing her face into the thing they called a pillow.

"Get up," someone commanded. It was the man, Tiger, the other inmates called him, because for some reason he dyed his hair orange and black. Not to mention that he had major anger issues, and in her opinion he should be in jail.

"What are you going to do? Take away my food? Feed me arsenic?"

"Get up, Prisoner 406317."

"Fine."

Éponine staggered to her feet. "Asshole," she muttered. He unlocked the gate and she walked with him down the hall. She was taken to a room and told to sit down.

Also in the room, was a man with beautiful golden curls and the deepest blue she'd ever seen. His face looked as though he had been carved from a block of marble.

Tiger turned to her. "This man has just paid for your freedom."

"What!"

She sat bolt upright, watching Statue carefully.

"I am one of your friend's friends," Statue explained.

"Oh."

Tiger cleared his throat. "You aren't going to protest, are you?"

Éponine shot him a glare. "After I put up such a fight about getting here? What do you think? Oh, I hate it here, so I'm going to refuse the outside world."

"Okay. You brought no things with you, so you can go right away."

Éponine nodded her head in thanks. Watching Statue get to his feet, she followed him.

Outside of the building, her breath caught at the sight of a red car in the parking lot.

"What's your name?" she squeaked.

He didn't even look back. All he said was, "Enjolras."

"Do you even know who I am?"

Enjolras shrugged. "Éponine."

She got into the passenger seat, and Enjolras turned the ignition key.

The car revved to life. The dark leather stuck to her skin, but it filled her with a kind of joy.

As the car rolled along the road ('I can't actually drive.'

'What?'

'I said I can't drive. That's why I'm so slow)

A few miles into the City of Alexis, Éponine then asked him. "Why did you pay to get me out of there?"

Enjolras shrugged again. "A boy called Gavroche- a gamin, in fact- told me he had seen you being taken by the police. When I asked what was so important, because people are being arrested every day, Joly told me that he had tripped you by accident earlier that day and you'd given him his wallet back, even though you could have had a fucking amazing time with the money."

Her eyes widened at the name of her brother. She had not seen him in four years. But hearing the next words, Éponine bowed her head in shame. Dad almost did.

The next few blocks were passed in silence. "Which way to your house?" Enjolras asked.

"I'll go myself," she said.

Sighing, Enjolras pulled up. "Fine, get out."

"Thank you, Monsieur." Politely tipping her head, she got out of the car. When he didn't leave, she frowned.

Rolling down the window, he called out, "I need to see you get home safely!"

"I'm fine, honestly! I've got people who can beat any who dare to invade my personal space!"

He tipped his head again, and in truth he looked like an angel. A terrible angel, because he looked at her with the utmost temperament of a slab of marble. "Don't get put in jail again, or I won't be able to get you out, okay?"

Smirking, Éponine nodded. "Farewell."

As he drove off, she frowned and flipped him off before turning to head home before her father knew she'd been gone.

As she crossed the threshold, she stood straighter. One who'd been there would've said she had an aura of defiance. In the glint of an eye, and the straightening of a spine, she had accepted the fate she would take for her sister.

Enjolras pulled into the Café's parking lot. As Courfeyrac was on the front porch, he was the first to spot Enjolras. "Ah! Old chap!" he grinned, running down the steps and throwing an arm around Enjolras' shoulder.

Enjolras gave him a glance. "Yes. It is I, your friend."

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. "Always so formal."

Another voice rolled from the room. Grantaire had opened the window, too lazy to go out the front door. Of course, he had a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"I don't know why you bother with that car, angel."

Enjolras stiffened. "I'm a human," he muttered.

"Yeah, yeah!"

He walked into the Café, and was met with applause. "The God enters!" announced Combeferre.

Joly rushed over to Enjolras. "Did you get Éponine out?" he asked. "Jail cells are horrible. They gave me a chill for a week."

Marius' head shot up from the letter he was writing to his beloved. Cosette, her name was.

"Did you say Éponine?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, Joly did," Enjolras groaned, watching his semi-friend over Joly's shoulder.

"Oh, she used to be a friend. She introduced me to Cosette. I haven't seen her in ages. Years. I wonder how she is. And I wonder how her sister is."

Enjolras nodded coolly. He had no interest for this young girl called Éponine. Turning his attention back to the hypochondriac, he nodded. "Yes."

Then Courfeyrac pushed Joly out of the way, before getting to his knees and pretending to worship Enjolras.

"Oh Great One. Provide us with your knowledge."

Enjolras couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

He kicked Courfeyrac gently in the arm. "Get up," he smiled, walking over to the table.

His words rolled into the wind. The revolutionaries of Upper World were laughing, while in the Underworld a young girl was screaming.