The Sinner

“A demon, Lucy Dennings?”

The bartender gave us a funny look and moved to the other side of the bar.

“I was born a human.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “I keep forgetting, since you act like humans are beneath you.”

“The internet makes a strong case.”

I laughed. “You also didn’t look very human when I found you.”

“You discovered me in my true form.” Cas gestured at himself, handsome in all black. “This was my human body. I must wear this ugly, tight-fitting suit to blend in on This Side.”

“Ugly?” I snorted, already a little buzzed. “Have you seen you?”

He frowned, a perplexed little smile touching his lips.

I cleared my throat. “I mean, this is who you were in life.”

“In life.” He spat the words as if they tasted foul. “In life, this body is fragile and easily broken. The form I was born into after death is powerful. Invincible.”

“And demonic,” I said carefully. “I thought you were trying to change. Doesn’t that mean becoming human again?”

“No.”

“An angel?”

“I am not, nor will I ever be, an angel.”

Maybe it was the whiskey already going to my head, but his words sent a little shiver of heat dancing over my skin. But he clearly didn’t want to discuss his post-redemption fate, so I changed the subject with all the grace of a tipsy person.

“Where were you born?” I blurted.

“Sumer. What you once called Mesopotamia.”

My eyes widened. “The land between two rivers. The Cradle of Civilization.”

Casziel’s eyes flared almost imperceptibly. “How do you know of it?”

“I took an anthropology class at NYU. I don’t know why; it wasn’t part of my curriculum, but something about that time period fascinates me.”

“Is that so?” he said into his wine glass.

“Absolutely, but no textbook can compete with someone who lived it. What was it like? Where did you grow up?”

“Larsa. A city-state in the southern region, near the gulf. I was born there in the year 1721, before the Common Era.”

My eyes widened. “Holy crap. So that makes you—”

“Sumerian.”

“I was going to say old.”

Cas laughed a little, low and gruff, but his smile was beautiful. And short-lived.

“I am considered old by human standards, but I died in 1699 BCE at the age of twenty-two.”

“How did you die?” I waved my hand. “Sorry, that’s a personal question. At least, I think it’s a personal question. I’ve never been able to ask someone how they died before.”