Forbidden: Tormented

Chapter Eight

Okay, so like, it's been a LONG time since I revisited this story and if I have tears in my eyes, then that is my business... 

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Andras looked at Eloa. "Do you think you can tell me what is going on?"

Valafar turned to look at her for the first time since he dropped his bombshell.

Keeping her eyes on Valafar's, she gave a slight smile. "I could. But I won't. While I gave my promise under... extenuating circumstances, it still holds me. This is between you and your brother."

Her demon's mouth twitched at the corners.

"Does it have anything to do with the voice of another coming from you?" Andras asked.

Valafar's head whipped around. "What do you mean?"

"You don't hear it?" He frowned. "Of course you wouldn't hear it. He would have made sure of it."

Valafar couldn't believe he was hearing right. The voices. They weren't his? "I was cursed?" Valafar asked more to himself. He knew it could be done, but had never experienced it, nor ever seen it done. It was more fiction than fact. Until now...

"Cursed?" Eloa shook her head, thinking she had to be hearing wrong.

"Yeah, cursed." Andras turned green eyes toward her. "I don't expect you to be able to tell one voice from another, but if you knew something of our language, you could've picked up on what he was saying." He gave a slight smile. "Surely understanding us would help you guys kill us more efficiently."

"I've never harmed a demon, much less killed one." She shivered as a chill ran down her spine.

"Easy brother." Valafar said with a warning in his voice. "You don't know Eloa. She doesn't kill." He glanced at Eloa. "I don't think she can. I think bad things would happen if she did."

Was that true? As she thought back over her life, she realized he might be right. She had never harmed so much as a fly.

Valafar continued. "She is the one that lets me speak, so watch your step. And besides, you know Irin and Vangelis. Angels doing the opposite of killing demons."

"Two, out of how many?" Green eyes met Eloa's and she flushed at the look in them. "Make that three."

"Can we get back to Valafar being cursed?" she asked, not sure she liked Andras knowing anything about her relationship with the volatile demon. "Is there a way to get rid of it?"

"The caster has to reverse it." Valafar answered. "You say it's Urian?" At his brother's nod, Valafar frowned. "Why? We've never had a quarrel."

"It's hell." Andras shrugged. "You know as well as I, he didn't have to have a reason."

"How could he have done it?" Eloa asked.

"Several different ways," Valafar said. "It could be anything from carving the spell on a body to a simple etching on a blade..."

Studying her lover, Eloa couldn't miss the way his eyes widened.

His scars. A knife. Heavenly steel. The fight that was supposed to be for Andras. Whoever did this to Valafar meant for it to be his brother, if not dead, then definitely lost inside his own head.

"How do we get this Urian?" she asked, fury for the unfairness dealt to her demon mounting.

Valafar looked up, the silver of his eyes molten in his rage. A rage that matched hers. "You don't."