Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

comfortable here, dear. You’re going to be staying with us for a very long time.”
    “Mezza stronza, mezza strega,” Luciana cast at the window before spitting on it. “Andare all’inferno.”
    The angels walked off, leaving her in the prison cell alone.
    But she heard the end of their conversation as they walked away.
    “‘Half witch, half bitch.’ That’s what she called you,” said Infusino. “And then she told you to go to hell.”
    “Thank you, Infusino,” Arielle said, pursing her lips tightly. “In future, if I want a translation, I shall ask for one.”

Chapter Eighteen
     
    I n the bright sunshine of the perfect SoCal summer day, an eerie feeling swept over Brandon as Arielle led the rest of the Guardians through her new property. As they walked, he only heard fragments of what she said. Something in his gut churned, but he couldn’t identify what. A feeling of suspicion, perhaps. He didn’t trust Arielle, but he didn’t quite know why.
    “…security cameras monitoring every inch of the detention facility…”
    “…converting this into a training area…” she said, pointing to a large grassy field.
    “…the helicopter pad for emergencies…”
    “Where’s Michael?” Brandon demanded. “We don’t have time right now for a guided tour. There are important matters to attend to.”
    “Patience is a virtue,” she admonished, pursing her lips at the interruption. “Look, here we are. This is our new boardroom. It’s a change from the legal-aid clinic, though we plan to keep the old headquarters, too. But it was time for an expansion.”
    On the second floor of the main building, the room she led them into was large and impressive, with soaring ceilings and a view that overlooked the wide expanse of lawn that stretched to the ocean.
    At the head of the long, rectangular boardroom table sat Michael.
    The rest of the members of the L.A. unit sat assembled around him. Brandon recognized Julian Ascher and Serena St. Clair, and two dozen other faces, all of them calmly waiting.
    He took a seat in one of the empty chairs at the end of the table.
    “Congratulations, Brandon, on a job well done,” Michael said. “I speak for the entire Company and all the Archangels when I say that we recognize and appreciate your hard work in finally capturing Luciana Rossetti.”
    All pairs of jewel-bright eyes fell on Brandon, all of them shining with gratitude.
    The angels clapped and nodded vigorously, smiling their approval.
    “Thanks,” Brandon said. “But we need to talk about what we’re going to do with her.”
    “We’ll discuss that now,” said Michael.
    Arielle cleared her throat, rising to stand at the other end of the table. “If I may speak frankly, I think we can all agree that this is a strong case for disposal.”
    “Forget it,” snapped Brandon. “We don’t all agree.”
    Michael sighed. “We cannot let such things divide us as an organization. We must work together at all times to achieve our goals. I know every person in this Company has different opinions and different beliefs. But we’re all working for the same thing. For the greater good and protection of humankind.”
    “Yes, Michael,” Arielle said. “What do you propose?”
    “We Archangels are against outright disposal in all but the most extreme cases,” said Michael. “We don’t judge that Luciana has been proven to be such a case in this time. We will revisit the case in the future, once more evidence has been compiled and a period of observation has elapsed. If she shows signs of remorse and the possibility for redemption, we must pursue that path. We Archangels trust you Guardians to deal with Luciana in the meantime, until we have determined the best course of action.”
    “Seriously?” asked Brandon. “Keeping her here indefinitely isn’t an option.”
    “Come, now,” Arielle chided. “It won’t be forever. We can reform her at our own pace.”
    “How do you plan to do that?” Brandon challenged. “What are you going to do when she tries to escape?”
    “She won’t. This place is airtight. But just to demonstrate, I think we should stage a little trial run. Won’t that be fun?” asked Arielle.
    A set of monitors lowered from the ceiling. As they flicked on, what they showed was footage from the security camera in Luciana’s room.
    Where the demoness sat on her white bed, still dressed in her ruined silk gown, looking miserable.
    Arielle pressed a button. And the door to