Page 79 of The Monsters We Are
“Something disturbed my rest.Pulledat me. Something . . . alien. It was powerful. Too powerful. Unnerving, even.”
His skin prickling with unease, Cain resisted the urge to turn and look at his consort. She was powerful, yes, but not to an extent that would daunt an Ancient. Cain could only think that it was Kali who his uncle had sensed.
“My creature didn’t like it at all. It fought to surface and protect me. It was then that I woke.” Abaddon took a step closer, eyeing Wynter again, still no recognition on his face. “I doubt it was you either.”
Cain frowned. “You really don’t recognize her? You should, considering you’ve called Wynter—who, I will add, is my consort—here to the temple several times.”
His head drew back slightly. “Called her?”
“Yes, in her dreams. It caused her to sleepwalk, though she never got this far until tonight.”
Abaddon’s frown deepened. “I do not remember ever reaching out to her or anyone else while I Rested, but my thoughts and memories are still jumbled.” His eyes sharpened. “You said a moment ago that we will invade Aeon very soon. Exactly how soon?”
“As I promised before, I will explain everything to you. For now, let us get you settled in my home. You may wish to freshen up and change. Then I will tell you all you wish to know.”
*
Sipping his coffee, Cain looked up as Maxim escorted Abaddon into the dining room a short time later. To say that his uncle’s presence had shocked the aide was an understatement, but Maxim had recovered quickly and summoned the household staff to ensure that Abaddon had a clean bedchamber and fresh clothing. The hirelings were sworn to secrecy, so Cain didn’t worry that news of Abaddon’s mysterious appearance would leak.
As the Ancient appeared to be stable, Wynter hadn’t protested to Cain spending time alone with him. She understood that Abaddon wouldn’t want an audience to his emotions—he’d for sure experience a whole array of them while he was brought up to speed on everything—so she’d headed to the cottage. Cain hoped she managed to catch up on her sleep.
Before she left, he’d asked her if Kali had woken Abaddon. She’d only replied, “The deity had a hand in it, yes.” Wynter hadn’t elaborated, giving him one of her maddening “that’s all I can tell you” looks.
After his aide left the dining room, Cain looked at Abaddon and blindly gestured at the table on which a selection of foods were laid out. “Sit. Eat.” Being only 5am, it was a little early for breakfast—at least for Cain—but he knew the other Ancient would be feeling famished. It was always that way shortly after rising.
He again sipped at his coffee while his uncle took the seat opposite. “How are you doing?”
“Annoyed,” replied Abaddon, sniffing almost suspiciously at the foods in front of him, as if he hadn’t seen some of them before . . . which might well be the case. “It took me ten minutes to learn how to operate that thing you called a shower.”
Cain felt his mouth curve. “I offered to show you. But your pride wouldn’t allow you to admit to needing help. Not my issue.”
“You’re still as blunt and pitiless as ever, nephew.” After piling food on his plate and pouring himself a glass of water, Abaddon met his gaze. “Tell me what I have missed while at Rest. Leave nothing out.”
Cain set down his cup with a sigh, regretting that there was no way to avoid overloading the Ancient with information. He didn’t want to overwhelm his uncle, but there was no way around it. So many eras had come and gone since the last time Abaddon walked the Earth. There was much that he’d need to learn, adjust to, and decide—and that was without even including the recent goings-on with the Aeons.
“First of all,” began Cain, “time is measured a little differently now.” He quickly explained and then added, “By this estimation of time, you have been asleep for several hundred thousand years.”
Abaddon went exceptionally still, pausing midchew. Long moments ticked by before he stiffly went on to chomp on his food, his movements almost mechanical. He very slowly sank back into his chair, looking like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Several hundred thousand years,” he echoed, his voice rough.
Cain gave a slow nod. “We would have tried to wake you sooner, but we didn’t believe you would have thanked us for it, given our current situation. We chose to instead let you wake in your own time. You simply never did.”
Abaddon swallowed. “There is much for me to hear, then.” Visibly gathering himself, he straightened in his seat. “Tell me everything.”
Hour after hour went by as Cain updated him. He suggested multiple times that they take a break, but Abaddon waved it away, intent on hearing all he needed to learn in one swoop. Cain understood. Whenever he woke from a Rest, he liked to catch up fast on all he’d missed.
His uncle listened carefully, posing questions here and there. He mostly responded with grunts, sighs, curses, or strained chuckles that told Cain his uncle might have a tight hold on his anger but it remained close to the surface. So he wasn’t the least bit surprised when his revelation that three Aeons now lived at Devil’s Cradle had Abaddon shooting out of his seat, sending it skidding backwards.
“Theylivehere?” Abaddon demanded, as mystified as he was furious. “As residents, not captives?”
“They came seeking sanctuary—”
“And yougaveit to them?”
“None were part of the war,” Cain calmly reminded him.
The Ancient’s eyes darkened to flint. “But they are guardians! Two are the offspring of one of our jailors!”
“And if we kill people simply because of what they are or who their parents are, we are no better than Adam and those of his ilk.”