‘You want to know how many Daughters of Men he’s gone through? How many hearts do you think have shattered over Raphael, the great archangel?’

‘You’re telling me he’s a heartbreaker?’

‘I’m telling you he’s heartless.’

‘You’re going to tell me that he did you wrong? That you don’t deserve to be chained up like a rabid animal?’

‘He’s not a good guy, your angel. None of them are.’

‘Thanks for the warning.’ I turn to go back into the house.

‘You don’t believe me. I can show you.’ He says these words quietly like it doesn’t matter to him whether I believe him or not.

I pause at the doorstep.

‘I’m not a big fan of creepy guys offering to show me anything.’

‘That sword you carry around hidden under the stuffed animal,’ he says, ‘it can do more than just look shiny. It can show you things.’

I get goose bumps. How does he know?

‘I can show you what I experienced at the hands of that archangel you’re so enamored with. We just both need to be touching the sword.’

I turn back toward him. ‘I’m not stupid enough to give you my sword.’

‘You don’t need to give it to me. You can hold it while I just touch it.’

I look at him to see if there are any tricks. ‘Why should I risk losing my sword just to see if you’re telling the truth?’

‘There is no risk. The sword will not allow me to lift it or to take it from you.’ He’s talking to me like I’m an idiot. ‘It’ll be perfectly safe for you.’

I envision myself being in a memory trance within easy reach of Beliel. ‘Thanks, but no.’

‘Afraid?’

‘Not stupid.’

‘You can tie my hands, chain me, bag me, put me in a cage. Do whatever you like to ensure your safety from an old demon who can’t even get up on his own anymore. Once you do that, you know the sword won’t allow me to take it, so you’ll be perfectly safe.’

I stare at him, trying to see through his game.

‘Are you really afraid of me harming you?’ he asks. ‘Or maybe you just don’t want to know the truth about your precious archangel? He’s not what he seems. He’s a liar and a betrayer, and I can prove it. The sword won’t let me lie – it doesn’t pass on pretty words. Just memories.’

I hesitate. I should be turning around to leave, and he knows it. I should be ignoring everything he says.

But instead, I stand rooted to the porch. ‘You have your own agenda that has nothing to do with showing me the truth.’