The Angel waited patiently by the main doors of St. Lilith’s. The Brothers had long since finished The Walking Ritual and returned to work.

Well disciplined Brothers were outsourced to tailor at the Macy’s on 34th, Barney’s and Neiman Marcus. The rest worked at one of Father’s Wicked Alterations Unlimited franchise locations. A few worked in the corporate office in the basement of the church performing administrative and marketing work.

Our logo was a well dressed devil

We never had any job openings

Weddings, award shows, theater performances, Proms. We tailored for all.

Reasonable prices to.

Est. 1869

I walked the Angel out. A pure white town car was waiting outside for the her. A human was driving.

The Angel Mother was so careful with her precious girls. I opened the door for the Angel and she glided in and I went in after. When we began to move she spoke.

“How old is the Demon Father ? After all--”

There it was. Her voice sounded controlled and deeper than I’d expected.

I held my finger to my lips and eyed the human driver. Her eyes narrowed in confusion but I thought it best no one think the Brothers are a group of devil worshipers living in a refurbished church. That would be 1960 all over again.There was a tense silence as the driver drove through the city instead of taking the parkway. I watched the city pass as we headed out of the Bronx, through the Upper East Side and slugged through downtown traffic.

Traffic across the Brooklyn Bridge was dreadful, I suggested we walk the rest of the way to Prospect Park. I was anxious to see The Angel Mother and return to Father's bedside.I knew the Angel only agreed to walk because it was so rare that Angels were let out to among the humans.

I walked a few steps behind the Angel, not wanting people to think us equals.

Many watched how graceful the Angel moved. She was way above average height but her dress didn’t quite fit right. It was clearly tailored but something was off about this Angel.Onlookers watched the bounce of her long golden brown hair and daintiness of her small facial features.They probably found her  white attire and short feather cloak  to be avant-garde and fashionable. I found it arrogant.

With each of her steps I noticed the outline of a thin dagger strapped to her hip.

“Your name, Brother ?”, she asks from the two steps in front of me.

The Angels had pronounced accents; a mix between our native tongue, Eastern European, Slavic with a hint of Transatlantic American. Spending most years cloistered away from human culture they never spoke quite right.

In the dorms brothers made jokes about Angel’s cadence and dialect.  I preferred them to the more lewd jokes. Although To this day Ashe swears there is nothing but air and ice between an Angel’s legs.

“Your name, Demon Brother ?”, she asks again. Her voice is deep, emotionless and grating.

I thought of my name in our language but it never translated.

“Melchoir”, I decided

“Melchoir ? Tis not a demon name”

“Asataroth , Balthazar, Abbadon”, I said, “Pick your name for me.”

“Biblical demons”, she noted, “Bezzelbub, then.”

I didn’t know if this was humor. This Angel's tone was unreadable.

“Sister.”, I called to her.

She stopped and I tossed my business card at her. I took pleasure in watching her have to bow down to me to pick it up. She merely glanced at it and continued walking.At the edge of Prospect Park sat the shining 30 foot high white gold gates that bordered Queen Anne’s College.

The Angel’s sanctuary.

Queen Anne’s College consisted of a circle of 2 large white neoclassical mansions and two smaller white buildings along with a dining hall. There was an opulent garden in the courtyard surrounded by a field of manicured grass. Only a little of the grounds could be seen from the street. Tall hedges surrounded the towering gates, keeping unwanted guest out.

Queen Anne’s College had been many things since The Civil War

An exclusive boarding academy

A brothel that never took clients, well hardly.

A finishing school for European young ladies

Now it was an exclusive women’s college.

Standing in front of the serene gates you would never imagine the hustle and bustle of Brooklyn traffic and brownstones was behind you.A human stood by the entrance of the gate with a wide angled lens camera, photographing the campus.The Angel stood in front of the gates and I held in a laugh as she typed in a security code. The Angel paid no attention to the human, even as the human bought the camera to the Angel’s face and photographed her. The Angel looked at the human if she was a large insect that bothered her but she was still going to ignore.

“Are you a student ?”, the human asked the Angel, “Do you know who I can talk to about the marki--

“This way, Brother”, The Angel called cutting off the human.

“Yes, Peter.”, I said

The Angel held the gate open and turned back, she cut her eyes at me. I offered a small smirk and constant smile.

I walked towards the gate when I felt a small hand around my arm. I turned to see the human had its hand on my arm.

“I. . . know you”, The human said. The human’s eyes were slightly downcast but she subconsciously touched her cheek in a way small children did when they saw my smile.

“You’re mistaken.” , I said. I didn’t know any humans. Certainly not this one.

“But I. . . I”, the human continued

The human’s eyes rose to my smile and I turned as her camera went off.

I walked inside the gates of Queen Anne’s and the gate slammed closed automatically. I jogged to catch up to the Angel. Her feather cloak fluttered as she walked closer to the main building.

“That is problem.”

“What is?”, The Angel seemed confused.

“Humans taking photographs so close to the gate. You must know the world is more sentient now than ever. You have to be more careful Or do you not know what going viral is?.”

“Queen Anne’s College  is a beautiful Brooklyn landmark. People can photograph it”, she said as if reading from a dull book.

The Angel opened the front door to the mansion and before I can step forward she pushes me back.

“Filthy Demon”

“What”, I growled at her.

“You are unclean and covered in sin. You will not enter the home of Angels until you have been cleansed.”

I tamped down the part of me that wanted to do something reckless. Something that came from spending 300 years as a child.

Is this what Father had endured every time he went to be diplomatic with The Angel Mother ? I cursed him for not preparing me for dealing with them.

“Brother”, The Angel said, “I’ll need your clothes.”

+++

The water was colder than the tub. The white porcelain clawfoot thing was settled in a hidden corner of the courtyard.

I closed my eyes as a group of young Angels  poured another batch of freezing Holy water over me and then scrubbed my skin raw with long handled brushes.

It wasn’t Holy water so much as it was regular water with a drop of water from an Angel lake in Homeland. The lake had been purified with the tears of The Angel Princess before she was killed. Supposedly.

When the tortuous bath  was over I stood and one of the Angels handed me a towel. Barefoot and naked, I was led into the main house where the Angels quickly wandered off.The air was cold and my bare feet froze against the marble floor.I took a few more steps in, but the foyer was empty.

To my left I caught my reflection in a mirror. I reached back and parted my dark hair, staring at the patches of uneven circular scars at the base of my skull. My dark eyes reflected nothing and I looked so human it shocked me.My regrettable small mouth drawing attention to the macabre smile cut into my face. The packed ash had blackened the smile, it was cracked and broken where it spread over my face.

I think perhaps I could have been a handsome human if the Angels hadn’t made me smile.

“This way, Brother.”

I couldn’t tell If this was the same Angel that had escorted me here, but once  I saw the ill fitting dress I was certain it was the same Angel.

She lead me to a  well sized white bedroom that smelled like pepper and cotton.

It smelled like Father.

“I have been charged with watching you while you are at Queen Anne’s. To ensure you understand how a Demon is to behave when around the Legion.”, her voice was hollow and empty.

I ground my teeth, wishing Father had done more to prepare me for a visit with the Angels. They were so self righteous.

“When can I see The Angel Mother ?”

“She is unavailable. She will be available in the morning. Mother has work for you to do.”

“Work ? Honestly ?”, I was outraged. I was here to discuss my future as the leader of my Brothers. Not do work for Angels/”

“ Humegu always obliged--”

“Don’t be disgraceful, Angel. He is The Demon Father to you.”, I snapped at her.

Her lips were tight and I could see her suppressing her urge to snap back.

“Of course”, she said, “Dinner is at 6”

“I need to walk”, I said more to myself that to the Angel.

The Angel didn’t say anything as I walked out the door and out of the mansion.

I  turned down 7th ave, deep in thought. I thought about Homeland, about Father about my father. I got lost in my own sort of Walking Ritual.

I didn’t even notice I was being followed

+2+

The Angels favored the gamey and peasant cuisine of Homeland and the early centuries. I didn't question the thick chunky stew that was placed in front of me, along with a good size piece of bread.

I’d expected a flurry of conversation and frivolous gossip but the Angels were polite and quiet as they ate. I watched from my single table in the far corner as they filed into the dining facility.

I watched them carefully hoping one of them would spill stew or red wine on their white attire.They all had medium colored hair and blue eyes. Humans seemed to find them attractive. The youngest appeared maybe 16 or 17. They must have been babies during the war, fortunate to have a leader who could nurse them.

I saw the Angel who had escorted me at the end of the table. Her eyes were adoringly fixed on a bottle-blonde Angel leading an enigmatic hushed conversation. As the clock hit 6:45 the Angels stood and filed out as quickly as they had arrived. I followed them out of the dining hall and back to the main mansion.The Angels filed upstairs for whatever it was Angels did in their spare time, and I returned to the solace of my own room.

It felt odd to be so alone.

To not hear my Brother’s breathing or tossing.

I decided to go for another walk. Waiting outside of the door was the Angel who had brought me here.

“Angel, what is this ? Am I not entitled to privacy--”

The Angel turned to me. Her eyes were wet and two tears fell down her face followed by two others. She stepped forward and her knees gave out.

The  dagger strapped to her leg hit the floor and spun infront of my feet.

She fell towards me but I stepped back. I’d be damned if I were caught holding a crying Angel.

Behind me another Angel rushed over to her. This Angel was also in tears and she held the Angel and helped her up.

The Angel  opened her mouth and wailed a strangled cry.

“I didn’t do--”, I started

The Angel screamed a cry again and the other Angel held her close and tried to pull her up.

I followed the sobbing Angels to the foyer where a mix of wail and cries of Angels blended together.

They were all crying hot tears and holding one another. Hundreds of Angels cries burned my ears. They held and grasped to one another.

A realization came over me and I realized why they were crying.

This was their ritual.

While we Demons had walked stoically for years out of Homeland

The Angels had cried and carried each other out of Homeland. This was how they remembered.

It was over 1000 years ago. How could they have any tears left ?

I heard the Angels strangled cry again, followed by several others

They were weak, frail, useless creatures.

I stalked back to my bedroom enraged that Father put up with them for so long. In front of my door I found a white gold dagger.

I remembered it fell out of the Angel’s holster when she fell. I turned the ice cold dagger in my hands

In elegant script the Angel’s name appeared

Seraphina

I heard the cries of Angels again and covered my ears with a pillow until I fell asleep.

+++

I was deep into my dreams when there was a knock on my door. I woke up quickly and threw on a pair of pants and shirt.

I reached for the stolen dagger now hidden in my bag. I decided to keep it in case some Angels felt murderous. Murdering The Smiling Demon Prince was probably well worth the punishment.

I opened the door to find the Angel I now knew as Seraphina on the other side. She threw my business card at me and I watched it fall face up on the floor.

Wicked Alterations & Tailoring Unlimited Store #34

18458 Broadway & 96th New York, NY

Est. 1869

Paris Prince | Tailor

“You’ll Look Hotter Than Hell”