So I gotta say; something must be wrong with me, because this was my favorite chapter to write so far. Like...man the dark side is so real in this chapter. I was waiting, because I wanted to build up the suspense with you all, but I was just too excited to wait! So I posted it NOW!

Chapter Eight

I waited, in the rain, as Katharine finished with the Duc. She had told me about a certain place in the cemetery where she and the Duc liked to be together, and so I'd followed her. I'd decided to wear nothing but my trousers, simply out of the curiosity that was I couldn't get sick, or shiver, or feel the drops. I also wanted to show off. Bored, I began to look at around at the different monuments and statues. I stopped at one of a large angel, with its wings spread wide. I couldn't help it as the pain tore through me at the sight; I jumped onto the monument and began to touch the wings. I imagined how they felt connected to my back; I imagined flying through the clouds.

Soon, I saw Katharine race back to wherever. I wasn't concerned about where she was going; I had one focus tonight, and I refused to fail. Chauncey Langeais came into sight. I stood up from the wings, hopped down, and began to approach him.

He stopped, and began to place his hand towards his sword.

"Who goes there?"

I couldn't help but smirk slightly at his attempt at valor. So this was how the night was going to go.

"Do not play games with the Duc de Langeais," he warned me. "I asked for your name. Give it." He stated his title as if it would intimidate me. Besides, I knew his true origins, and he was no mortal Duc's son.

"Duc?" I teased him, leaning against a tree. "Or bastard?" The boy unsheathed his sword.

"Take it back! My father was the Duc de Langeais. I'm the Duc de Langeais now," he shouted. I noticed him blush slightly; probably at his own lack of confidence. Still, I was growing annoyed at his attempts to frighten me, when I obviously held the power in this situation. I shook my head.

"Your father wasn't the old duc." I said, still leaning back. Chauncey grew red at my words.

"And your father?" he demanded of me, directing his sword at my face. I wanted to laugh at his "bravery". Foolish boy. "I'll ask once more, who are you?"

Having enough of our little introduction, and craving his oath, I walked up to him and pushed his blade aside as if it were nothing. "One of the Devil's brood," I teased. His eyes widened in fear.

"You're a raving lunatic; get out of my way." He spat.

Hmm…I don't think so.

I began to force my will onto his, so that he couldn't move, or speak. He was pretty strong; he was able to resist me enough to lift his head. Even better; it would make my experience in his body that much more interesting. I crouched to meet his eyes.

"Listen carefully," I drawled. "I need something from you. I won't leave until I have it. Do you understand?"

Stupidly, he tried to fight me, and even went so far as to spit towards me. Impudent child. I grabbed his hands, and placed the feeling of fire between them. He screamed.

"I need your oath of fealty. Bend on one knee and swear it." Although I was trying to show control, I was growing impatient with him. My body already ached to possess his, and even though Cheshvan had passed, I needed to know that I had him waiting for me when I approached him next.

He was still fighting me! Using my power, I began to choke him, and when he tried to resist that, I finally had to force him down onto his knee. He retched onto his side.

"Swear it." I commanded. I felt that I was being pleasant, but my hunger for him, and anger at him, was growing even larger. If he didn't swear soon, I'd torture him, brutally, for as long as it took, until he relented.

My patience had worn thin when he swore the oath.

"Lord, I become your man," he hissed. They were words of pure beauty to me. I fought the urge to smile triumphantly. That wasn't so hard, now was it?

I lifted him to his feet. "Meet me here at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan. During the two weeks between new and full moons, I'll need your service."

His face contorted. "A…fortnight? I am the Duc de Langeais!"

I turned to him mockingly. "You are a Nephil," I answered, disgust slipping from my tone. Chauncey froze, before speaking quietly.

"What did you say?" I felt no harm in telling the half breed what he was.

"You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was as angel who fell from heaven. You're half mortal, half fallen angel." My eyes lifted to see his reaction. He shuddered, but he didn't seem too upset at the knowledge. It was slightly disconcerting. I wasn't sure what type of monster I'd sworn, but it certainly didn't matter as for two weeks of each year, I controlled him. He was now mine.

"Who are you?" he asked me. I hardly heard him; seeing as I'd done what I needed, I began to walk away. I made sure he couldn't follow.

When I got some distance, I heard him call after me: "Are you—fallen? Your wings have been stripped, haven't they?" I kept walking, both for my sanity and thus, his safety.

"This service I'm to provide; I demand to know what it is!" he shouted again.

I began to laugh softly as I continued my stroll.

I knew that Chauncey would follow me, come morning. So I needed to move, and move quickly. I started with the town. Anyone who had seen me, or known who I was, needed to be wiped. It would take a toll on my power; of that I was sure. I started first with one of the young girls that fawned over me. Like a true demon of lust, I crooked my finger at her, smiled, and she followed me right into a nearby alley. Holding her face, as if I were to kiss her, I worked my way through her memories, and erased any sight of me from them. She collapsed to the ground, in a daze. Moving into the tavern, I saw that just about anyone that would recognize me was there. I tried my hand at an entire group of people; freezing them, I expunged any memory of myself from them. It took merely an hour. I was surprised, and fiercely proud of the power that I held. It was the sort of pride that the Archangels reviled, yet ironically displayed; I found myself practically writhing in it.

Nina and Francis were asleep when I found them. I erased Francis' mind easily, but I stopped when I looked at Nina. Something like guilt came upon me, and I struggled to make myself erase her memories. She was the first person to be kind to me since I'd fallen onto Earth; although it had been my mindtricks at first, she'd taken me in, fed me, and given me something to do. She was kind, caring, smart, and sweet, the traits I was looking for in a human woman. If I were ever to describe any sort of love at that point, it would be for her; my adoptive mother. I wanted her to remember me; but then, she'd never accept who I really was, a disgraced angel. Especially with what I was about to do after I left her home. With that thought, I slowly removed myself from her mind. They would awake; they would all awake tomorrow, never knowing I existed. It was a very lonely feeling. Shaking my head, I left. There was one more stop I needed to make.

I approached her home, and knocked on the door. Katharine opened it, her dress hanging off of her body. She smiled seductively as I entered the home, and threw herself on me when I closed the door. Moments later, I had her on the bed, and she was expending herself underneath me. As she began to cry out, I placed my hands around her neck, as if to caress her. I began to squeeze. She began to struggle, and kick underneath me, trying to scream. She swung her fists at my face, and for the first time, I was glad I couldn't feel, because nothing needed to interrupt my focus in this moment. She stared at me with red eyes; I returned her stare with a murderous gleam in my own. When she was near death, I let her go. She lay, gasping on the floor, when I came back with a knife, red hot from the fire in the room. Her eyes widened, and she parted her lips, begging for mercy.

"This…this is your fault. Everything! I watched you; I desired what I thought was your righteousness, and beauty, and love!" I pinned her to the floor. "You are a temptress, a whore, a demonic snake, and I lost everything because of your wiles! You are a murderer, and a thief, and you don't deserve to breathe any longer. Not for the things that you've done. Not for the misery you've inflicted upon me."

Finished talking, I stabbed her. Over and over. My hatred ran through as I watched her suffer. Finally, while she lie on the ground gulping and choking on her own blood, I found her oil lamp. I remembered my fear of her being burned at the stake for "accidentally" killing her own husband. What a fool I was. She needed to experience this fire, and afterwards, hellfire. After pouring the oil everywhere, I threw the lamp on the ground, and I left the house.

Nehemiah's words came back to me as I watched it, and her, burn.

Jev, what have you done to yourself?

I've avenged myself, one of many times to come. I waited. I had no doubt as to who would be showing up to collect her blackened soul.

"Jev…" I looked over to see Nehemiah's hand on my shoulder.

"Jev…this isn't you, my brother. You know it isn't…" he whispered. I looked back at him, my face glowing from the fire, and from my hateful triumph. I didn't have to say a word. He saw how this had changed me; he knew that it was far too late for me to turn back. He vanished without another word, and I looked back at the fire. Chauncey could consider it my going-away present.

Still smiling, I lifted my hood, and I ran into the night.

And with that...baby Jev is dead, and Patch Cipriano is born.