Bøger af Cael McIntosh

What if demons aren't evil, as we've been led to believe from infancy? What if they're just like you and me: imperfect, capable of making mistakes and having regrets? Maybe they're sorry for the wrong they've done and maybe we should forgive them. After all, isn't that what Maker is all about, forgiveness of sins? They found the demon child crying on their doorstep. He was cold, precariously balanced on the edge of death. They were kind people. Unable to ignore his suffering, they took him into their home and cared for him as if he were their own. But he was not their own, and the day came when he committed an unforgivable sin, in raising his mother from the dead. Have you ever imagined what it must be like for someone to love you . . . the real you? Can you imagine what such an embrace might feel like? No . . . of course not. I'm being silly. You're just a little bird. No one would ever love you.

Can you imagine what it must be like; to be thrown away like a dirty dish-rag because a man has chosen to use you so? Imagine then if everyone you ever loved hated you equally for what he'd done to you. This happened twice to me. One of them is dead, but the other is still very much alive. I will have my vengeance, all whilst this bastard grows within. It wasn't his fault; they'd all told him that he was the one. They'd called him the Holy Spirit. He could've only assumed that they knew what they were talking about. They were an entire country. Who was he to disagree with their judgement? But, oh how quickly the people of Jenjol could change. And as for Ilgrin, who would've predicted he could become so wicked? I will always love him, although his blood is on my hands. I doubt anyone has ever killed another so close to them as I have. I still feel his throat closing between my fingers. I squeezed. I squeezed and I squeezed.