Page 20 of Prayer of the Damned

“If it has, it wasn’t written in any history book. The Council wouldn’t let such a mutation be remembered.”Mutation? Gee, thanks.Referring to my situation that way doesn’t sound as bad coming from a stranger’s mouth.

My father clears his throat and Prof. Sapienti hurriedly apologizes for his choice of words. “I’m sorry, dear, sometimes I just say the first thing that comes to mind, without considering my words. But you’ll get used to me.” He laughs and waves his hand dismissively. “And her skin is impervious?” Is he, or is he talking to himself?

Before I realize what’s happening, Prof. Sapienti jabs me with a pen I hadn’t noticed he was holding, and I let out a yelp of pain. Damn, is this what I have to look forward to every time?

“Sapienti,” my father hardens his tone of voice, a warning that can’t be misread. He pulls me to his side, and I rub my arm trying to soothe the pain.

“Oh, oh, I apologize. I had to see for myself,” he continues mumbling unclear syllables to himself. Is the entire faculty as crazy as him?

“Well, what is your conclusion?” my father presses on, hoping to squeeze information out of him. Prof. Sapienti turns his back to us and paces across the room like he’s looking for something. My father and I exchange glances, and he caresses my back in an attempt to calm me down a bit.

“A-ha!” he exclaims, and lifts his finger in the air. He approaches the overflowing library and starts knocking the dusty books sloppily arranged on the shelves off, one after another.

He flips through a book that looks so old I’m truly worried it’ll crumble in the Professor’s hands if he’s not careful enough. He pauses on a yellowing page and runs a finger across thewords, mumbling to himself and stopping to ponder what’s written.

“What have you found?” my father sounds impatient.

Prof. Sapienti looks directly at me and once again scrutinizes me. My body tenses under his gaze, and I’m sure I’ll go mad if he doesn’t speak soon.

“Protective abilities have never been documented in the demonic realm. In the angelic realm, though—” He hasn’t even finished the sentence and I’ve already gone completely still.

“Angels? But she’s not an angel, that’s not possible,” my father replies angrily, snatching the book out of the Professor’s hands.

When he finishes reading that same page, he lifts his gaze, and now he’s the one staring at me like I’m a museum display. I let out a frustrated breath and defiantly cross my arms over my chest.

“Care to share with me?”

“Only angels have the powers of protection and healing…” my father reads out in disbelief.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It doesn’t mean anything yet,” my father hurriedly clarifies, slamming the book shut. “Aside from being impervious, there’s nothing divine about her. Sapienti, I must ask you to continue researching the matter before we raise any speculation before the Council, absurd though it may be. Can you commit to that?”

“Of course, Mr. Fermi, I’d be glad to investigate the matter further. I’ve lived for so long that I’d honestly believed there was nothing new for me to discover, but life does have a tendency to surprise even us immortals, after all.”

“Agreed. I expect a full report on anything you find,” my father ends the discussion, shoves the book into Prof. Sapienti’s hands and hurries to pull me out of the office after him. I don’t know how I feel about being the Professor’s new researchsubject, but I have no choice, not when I myself don’t know who or what I am.

My father said only angels have protective abilities, and the Professor confirmed it’s a divine ability that’s undocumented in the demonic realm. If that’s the case, and I’m a demon, what does God want from me?

My father leaves me at the door to my new dorm room. He seems anxious to leave, and all I want is to cling to him, to keep him from leaving me in this damned place.

Funny, just a few days ago I was praying to leave home and start a new life away from my father, and now all I want is to stay somewhere familiar. Better the Devil you know, they say, and I guess it must be true after all.

I watch him move down the bustling corridor, and when he disappears around the corner I take a deep breath and open the door to my room.

Valentina’s arranging her side of the room. She picked the right side for herself, while I got the left side with the window.

I notice that my luggage has already been stacked by my bed, and I walk up to it to start arranging my things, just as Valentina’s doing. It takes about an hour to sort the room, and the whole time there’s this awkward silence lingering between us. It seems we’re each trying to think of what to say to the other, and neither of us can make sense of the jumble of thoughts in our heads. Finally, we turn to each other simultaneously, going silent and waiting for the other to say something, and finally we burst out laughing.

“Well, this is awkward!” she exclaims.

“Tell me about it,” I roll my eyes and laugh.

“My father threatened me, literallythreatenedme, not to screw up with you. He thinks it’ll do his business good. Your dad scares him.”

“The head of the Italian mafia is scared of my dad?” It sounds completely unreal.

“Yes, your father’s reputation precedes him,” she whispers, as though someone might hear us.

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