Salem had teleported her with him and they were now seated on top of a building, the one Salem had argued with Michael on.
It was dark and late, but Zamora knew her parents wouldn’t care. They hardly noticed when she arrived or left the house. They were most likely asleep right now.
When Zamora was five, her family had taken her to the beach. It was beautiful, with clear blue water and white sand. There was a psychic there, that Zamora begged her mother to take her to. An old woman with dyed black hair and sparkly cheap clothes. She remained nameless as Zamora entered her small tent set up on the paved boardwalk.
Her parents remained outside as the psychic set little Zamora’s hands on the crystal ball. Their eyes widened when the ball illuminated white. Zamora would never forget the elderly woman’s tear-stained face and the way she chanted angel over and over, hugging the little girl.
Needless to say, Zamora’s adopted parents came in and whisked her away, telling Zamora to look out for strange people like her.
Zamora’s silence was killing him. He couldn’t believe he had done such a stupid thing. Using hellfire right in front of Zamora. But when Salem thought of that revolting look that human gave Zamora, he immediately remembered why. In fact, if he could go back in time, he would’ve done the same thing, possibly ending them sooner.
But now he had to explain everything. His pale eyes glanced over to Zamora. She looked stunning in the citylight. She looked beyond beautiful to him, her looks incomparible. But Salem wasn’t drawn to her for that alone. It was her aura. Her strong, kind aura that was embedded in her pure soul.
“Are you a demon?” Zamora asked after a moment of silence. Salem kept his eyes fixated on the colorful cars moving rapidly on the highways in the distance. He didn’t want to see her reaction when she told him. “Yes.”
He could feel her pacing. “Why me?” her voice came soft as she asked, as if she was questioning herself rather than Salem. He saw no reason to lie. He would tell her most everything, for that is what she deserved.
“You are an angel. An angel I’ve grown to love. You’re meant to return to heaven and marry, and I don’t want you to.”
His heart raced when Zamora sat beside him, her long legs dangling off the highrise. But if she were to fall, Salem would be able to catch her instantly.
“I always knew I was adopted. My parents told me I was dropped off at the doorstep in a basket. That my real parents ran off after they rang the doorbell and they kept me.”
Salem sighed. He wondered how she must’ve felt. “You are not as shocked as I expected you to be,” Salem said as he reached to pull her closer. He couldn’t help it, it was like he felt obligated to keep her close, protected.
Zamora let him. Afterall, they were already together, after what happened. A blush rose to her cheeks before she willed it away.
Leaning her head on his broad shoulder, she continued. “I’ve always had this strange power I’ve never told anyone about. Whenever it’s sunrise, I get this strange, powerful feeling. It’s like an itch in my fingers. Like a power begging to be released. I concentrated on the feeling, and a white spark came from my fingertips. I never told anyone, and it never came again. I’ve always believed in angels and demons and magic since I was little. I’ve read so much, and I always thought there would be a small chance maybe I was an angel or demon. Like I’ve always had that gut feeling. So, I guess I kind of expected it.”
“White fire,” Salem remarked in his low voice. “The heaven’s version of hellfire. Equally as powerful, if not more. I can help tutor you to use white fire as a weapon, as well as other powers you may be able to use, too. Also my name is not Dominik. It is Salem. And you are Zamora.”
Zamora smiled faintly. “Salem. Like the Salem witches,” she said softly. “Lucifer told me I was named after the witch trials in 1692,” he said after shivering slightly at the sound of Zamora saying his name.
“Lucifer? Like the Devil Lucifer?” Zamora asked, unaware of Salem’s rapid heartbeat, nor the effect she had on the demon.
“I work for him.” Salem left it at that. He didn’t want to tell Zamora of the horrific, terrible things he had done for the Devil. She didn’t need to hear it.
Zamora got the message he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Why am I on Earth?” She asked. Salem had expected that question. He subtly leaned his head against Zamora’s pulling her into him and smiling when she relaxed against him. She was shocked she felt safe around him.
That was one question he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know. A mistake, perhaps. But you are a princess, and meant to help rule heaven with your fiance.” Salem immediately frowned at the last word, mentally swearing to himself that she would never rule alongside anyone other than himself. Especially Michael.
Zamora’s dark eyes widened briefly, hued light reflecting off them from the city. “This is a lot to take in,” she admitted. “And what if I don’t want to rule alongside anyone? What if I want to be with you?”
Her last words were cut off by Salem pressing his lips firmly to hers. He released her quickly, her face flushed red and her heart hammering.
“I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” he sweared. Zamora nodded dazedly. “Is there anything else I should know? Will I live a normal human life? What’s heaven and hell like?”
Of all the questions she could ask, these would be the toughest to answer. Should he tell her how she could be transported to heaven and hell? Would that mess up any potential plans?
“Heaven is what you’d expect. I cannot describe it completely in words. It is vasse and colorful, although there are colors that you could not imagine. It peaceful and happy, the kind of feeling that you rarely get and wish it would last forever. A feeling you’d never grow tired from.” Like right now.
“Hell isn’t as bad as you’d think. It’s not burning or an inferno like most believe. It’s mostly just… cold. The air is dry, there is dead grass and colors of black, grey, and red everywhere. The sky is forever tainted monochrome, the land empty and desolate.”
Zamora sighed. “You didn’t answer my other questions.”
“I do not know the answer.” Salem defended. Zamora quickly shifted so that she was facing Salem, a newfound twinkle in her russet eyes. “You’re lying!” she said almost merrily. “What? How could you tell?” Salem countered incredulously.
“This feeling. It’s like I can hear your voice change, it’s vibration. I’ve never felt this before, could it be a power I have?” She questioned.
“I think it is. It’s extremely rare and I’ve never heard of someone having it before. So far, you can tell when one is lying, and you can control angelic fire. I’ll help you learn to control it so you can defend yourself in the future,” Salem advised. When his mind went back to the previous event of how Zamora was helplessly restrained, his eyes darkened and a deathly anger withheld him.
“Salem, you’re hurting me,” Zamora’s tensed voice had him immediately realizing he had tightened his hold on her when his mind had drifted. He was now angry with himself.
“I’m sorry,” the demon said softly. He promised himself then that he would never hurt her in the slightest, and that he would never allow anyone else to either. He’d never experienced such fury when he came to see Zamora in the arms of that disgusting human. The cost for hurting his angel would be a painful death to anyone who dared harm her.
“I want to be strong. I want to learn to fight and defend myself.” Zamora stated. Salem smiled as he wound his fingers through her golden hair. “You will soon.”
It was then that Zamora remembered he had lied when she asked if she’d live a normal human life. So he did know the answer.
“Salem, now you have to tell me if I’ll live a normal life,” she chastised. Salem sighed. He might as well explain everything.
“You will age regularly, unless you are brought to Heaven or Hell before twenty,” Salem explained, preparing for the question he knew would follow after.
“How do I go to Heaven or Hell?” Salem sighed, remaining silence as the distant sound of humans and the city filled their ears for a brief second. Salem took a breath before he potentially soiled any abandoned plans of tricking Zamora in the long run.
“In order for you to go to heaven, you’ll have to experience an extreme sort of happiness. And hell… it would be the opposite.”
“Can we go to Hell now? Just teleport us?” Salem didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that. “I wish I could.”
Zamora sighed as she nuzzled against the demon’s hard chest, feeling secure for once in her once cold, uneventful life. “Let’s not think about that for now. I just want to be with you for now,” she said gently.
A million thoughts raced through Salem’s mind as he held her in his arms. The only girl he’d ever cared about. Or thing for that matter.
At that moment, nothing else mattered. All Salem needed was Zamora. And as he glided his long fingers across her soft skin, he knew that he’d never feel anything remotely close to the emotions he got from this one young angel.