I expected her to scream.
She didn’t.
“You … you’ve always been here.”
My voice fails me. I can only nod.
Tears slip down her cheeks, and I wait for her to tell me to go away, leave her alone, and wonder what she’ll say when I tell her I can’t leave the castle any more than she can.
Without warning, her arms are around me, and she rests her head against my chest.
“Thank you. I’m not alone anymore.” She looks up at me. “I don’t remember my name.” she says in a rush. “I think it’s Aisling, but I don’t know … do you have memory? Do you know your name?”
I can hear Tharon clucking that forked tongue of his, but I can’t deny her the truth.
“I am Eliakim.”
Her face softens, and I wonder if she is an angel, like the one Tharon hates so desperately.
She smiles. “Eliakim. ‘God will establish.’ It’s a beautiful name.”
How does she know this?
She steps back from me, and her smile is radiant. I’m stunned into silence again by her beauty. I think I smile, and I hope my fangs don’t startle her.
“Thank you.”
She takes my hand. “Are you hungry? I don’t have much, but I’ll share it with you.”
“No. But please, eat if you’re hungry.”
“Come with me.”
We walk together through the corridors of the castle that is our prison. Her touch is strong, full of magick she doesn’t know she possesses, but I can feel it. I’m not supposed to tell her anything about herself, but … if we’re both damned to live here for eternity, what would it hurt?
We sit together at one end of the oak dining table, and I wonder who used to call this castle home before we were sent here. She is eating stew, smiling at me between bites –
Why am I so nervous?
“Eliakim. I’m so relieved I’m not alone here anymore. Can you tell me more about you?” She pours us both a goblet of water. “Your wings…?”
I chuckle despite my nerves. “I am a demon, my lady.”
She seems more fascinated than fearful. “A demon? You don’t … I mean, shouldn’t you be scary?”
I laughed. I laughed for the first time. And it felt good.
“I suppose so, but I’m young. I’m still learning how to be scary.”
She giggled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Everything I’d been taught, all my training, was forgotten. I reached over and lightly touched her hand, careful not to scratch her with my talons.
“You’re right,” I blurt before I can come to reason and stop myself. “Your name. It’s Aisling.”
More tears, glistening in the light of the candles. “Ohhhhh … Eli. Thank you. Thank you!”
She leaves her dinner and wraps her arms around me again. I guide her onto my lap without thinking, and let her rest against me. She’s so light, so ethereal, so perfect. I hold her, whispering her name, and she whispers it too, as if she’s trying to etch it back into her mind.
If they take her memory again, I’ll give her back her name. I’ll give her my life if it will keep her safe.
What is happening to me?
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