Bonnie Lawrence had always believed that she was destined for one thing: to be forgotten.
When a demon attempts to murder her for this very reason-she starts to resent that statement.
And the two men that saved her may just have the answers to her...
AN:// It's the end of February!! A little less travelling and a calmer schedule coming up this month so I'll hopefully get some more chapters out than just the one a month I've been doing!
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Manakel's prying eyes did not let up as he watched Bonnie recite what Eyael had told her.
Or prying bandage, she should say.
"And that's all he told me," she finished, drying her sweaty palms on her trousers. "As I said, not a lot."
"No, I suppose not." Manakel let a minute of silence wash over them as though he was scrutinising every inch of her. "He left me to decide on how much we should divulge to you, and I think with recent events you are welcomed to know more than they have allowed you."
She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding.
"Does that mean you're going to tell me everything?"
Something resembling a smile flitted across the angel's mouth, and his wings fluttered in humour.
"To know everything would be a great feat. I do not believe a single soul has had that honour, and if they did I doubt their mind could stay intact. Even angels could not comprehend every detail."
Bonnie bit down on the urge to say something sarcastic. He had to know that isn't what she had meant, but it wasn't worth insulting his ego to clarify.
She needed him to remain open, talkative even.
"But I will tell you the knowledge you need to unravel the string from the end, in hopes of understanding the beginning."
It was a good thing she had sat down.
"Like all things, the truth is warped overtime, but some of your histories contain correct details," Manakel began, his eyes glinting. "The Sacred Whores of Babalon are just that, servants of Babalon, pieces filtered down through descendents and spirit. Over time, humanity has reduced the true nature of them to pitiful stories or woes, descriptions of holy woman who desired money or status. Men are quick to forget that it was them who worshipped. That the whores were their connection to the gods. There is a reason you call it mother earth—after all almost everything comes from a mother."
"They could speak to gods?"
"A lesser being will always see the thing above them as a god. It does not mean they are truly gods. Names change; Daemons, deities, Aeons. They weave together." His hand stretched to the beam of sunlight casting a golden hue across the floor. "Man received one gift, unknown until it was too late, from one who wanted nothing else than to have what she did not. Do you know what it is? What trait stems purely from the gods?"
Bonnie didn't even attempt to answer. Manakel wings hummed as he moved closer to her, a breeze skimming her skin.
"Desire, and all the things it brings." She shivered, and his arm almost brushed her own. "Every creature survives, does what it must, but to desire? It requires something more—spirit, passion, lust. A thousand named for something so simple. But you need a thousand names for something so compelling, a drop in the cosmos that ripples out into change."
