“Your number! What is it!”
“I don’t—“
“Tell me your number before I cut your throat and send your bloodless corpse
back to the Council.”
Muttering unintelligibly, the subject’s eyelids fluttered and slid closed, his breathing slowing to the even rhythm of unconsciousness.
Growling, the Apostle grabbed a handful of his hair, startling herself at the lack of control she displayed over her emotions. Jerking his head up from the table sharply, she let it slam back into the hard metal with a soft thump. She would like to see him sleep through that!
“Come back in an hour, Kari,” he groaned, without opening his eyes, “I’ll help you dig the well later.”
“Wake up you fool,” the Apostle shouted.
At last the Subject’s eyes opened fully, causing the Apostle to stare. Her own eyes were a golden color, but otherwise they appeared normal by human standards. This Subject's eyes were those of a beast in the face of a man. The irises and pupils were so large that little of the whites could be seen around the edges. She watched as his large pupils expanded and contracted, adjusting to the light. Could he be a new version of Subject created by the council, with power greater than hers?
“Ah,” the Subject said, taking stock of his surroundings. “The Apostle, I
presume?”
“What is your number? Why did the Council send you?”
“Sure is drafty in here,” the Subject muttered, looking down at his nudity. “That explains it.”
Covering his male parts from her view, the Subject’s bushy black tail curled
around his hip. After being treated like an animal too stupid to know that it was naked for so long, the Apostle could understand his wish for modesty. However, she was somewhat annoyed that her plans to use his discomfort were so easily thwarted.
“As impressive as it is to behold, I usually reserve that for the ladies only.”
Pausing, the Subject thought for a second. “Or I would if I could find one that didn’t mind a man with a four foot long furry protrusion growing out of his extreme lower back.
Amazing what having a tail does to chase away my prospects.”
“Answer the question,” the Apostle demanded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no number and I’ve never heard of your Council.”
Stepping close, the Apostle leaned over him. “Do you expect me to believe such an obvious lie?”
“I’ve shown you mine,” the Subject said with a mischievous grin. “It’s rude not to show me yours.”
Unable to help herself, the Apostle glanced toward what his tail was covering, face coloring with rage and embarrassment over the thought of showing this fool her own naked flesh in return.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” he grinned, showing an array of wickedly sharp
teeth and fangs. “Your face. Whatever are you hiding behind that mask? You want to talk to me, let’s do it face to face. Man to man.”
The Apostle blinked. Man to man? He thought her male? Any Subject from the
World Closest to Perdition would know that she was female. Perhaps he hadn’t come from the Council after all.
Stuffing the Subject’s crystal necklace into a pocket, she slowly reached a gloved hand back into her hood to release the catch that held her mask in place, pulling it away to reveal her face. The mask improved her vision spectacularly, and had the ability to zoom in, record and playback, and to display heat signatures. She’d worn it for so long that taking it off made her feel almost naked. Hesitating for a second, she pushed her hood back and let it fall away as well, revealing her own wolflike ears, so very much like his and chestnut hair cut in military style.
“You’re a girl,” the Subject said in surprise.
“Now answer the question,” the Apostle said harshly. Her own, unaltered voice sounded very strange in her ears. “What is your number and why did the Council send you?”
“Wow, you’re beautiful.”
Drawing back, the Apostle blinked at him in confusion. That was the sort of thing male humans said to female humans, but she did not understand why. Such a statement seemed to have very little purpose, but the females always appeared to enjoy hearing it for some reason that she could not fathom.
“Jonathan, by the way. And you are?”
“I am the Apostle of Cain.”
“Yes, but what’s your name, beautiful. I imagine pillow talk gets a little clunky calling you Apostle of Cain all the time.”
“That is my name.” Pillow talk? What in Cain’s name was that?
Cain cackled madly in her head, but she ignored it.
“That’s sad. Well, let’s see. I know. Mara. You look like a Mara. So then, Mara, how do you like it?”
Taken aback, the Apostle stepped away. What was he trying to do, put her off guard by acting a ridiculous fool? Or was he actually just a ridiculous fool. His behavior made very little sense and she did not understand half of what he said at all.
“You don’t like it? Oh well. I thought that was perfect for you. Let’s see. Ah, I know. How about Cora? Queen Cora was a great heroine on some other world long ago.
I’d be honored to be named after her, if I was a girl.”
“Shut up! Stop spouting gibberish!”
Trying to clear her thoughts, she began pacing again. Everything was much
clearer before the fool male opened his mouth. Had she actually been impatiently awaiting his awakening?
“He has to have been sent by the Council,” she muttered to herself, unaware that she was speaking aloud. “I’ve never seen another Subject outside of the facility. They must have discovered that I—“
“Uh, excuse me.”
She glared at him and he flinched back from her.
“Ah, well, I was gonna say,” he said rather weakly, “if you’re confused about me having a tail and not being from where you’re from. I can explain. I mean, that is . . . I swear to god if you bite me I’m going to be very annoyed with you.”
When she gave him no reaction, he sighed and let his head thump back to the
table. “Not even a smile. Jeez lady, don’t you have any sense of humor?”
“You will explain,” the Apostle ordered.
“You and I are Heretics. A Heretic is born when a Demon is summoned into a
human host and then mates with a human. We’re extremely rare, because most worlds don’t even know Demons exist, much less how to summon them. Plus, a human mind must be irrevocably destroyed in the process.”
Continuing to pace, the Apostle suddenly realized that procreation must be the purpose for the coupling between males and females. But what about the females that bore offspring without a male partner? She still understood too little. Besides, she’d been grown in a laboratory. After becoming aware of herself, she’d seen other Subjects being grown in huge plastic tubes full of clear blue liquid. Therefore, what this male said about so-called Heretics did not seem to apply to her. They might look alike, but it was clear that there were still differences between whatever he was, and a Subject.
Still, if he spoke truth, it could mean that he had nothing to do with the Council at all, which was, in itself, a great relief. It meant that the Council still did not know about her plans regarding them. However, where had he gotten the crystal that allowed travel between worlds? That detail was still troubling.
Glancing for the first time at the broadsword leaning against the wall in the
corner, the Apostle thought he had to be extraordinarily strong and dexterous to swing it with much precision. Someone that strong could make a powerful ally against the Council if converted.