“Everything’s okay, Nathaniel!” I screamed. “He’s my friend!”
“He’s not your friend, Jamie,” Nathaniel replied calmly. He raised the gun slightly, keeping his focus on Dothan. “I know what you’re thinking, but it won’t work. So just put it down and leave.”
“It’s too late—I’ve memorized what I need.” Dothan threw his shoulders back defiantly.
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “Even if I believed that were possible, there’s still a piece missing. And most importantly, you lack the power to carry it out.”
“You can’t be sure about that. You have no idea what I can do, old man.”
“Dothan!” I gasped, shocked by his uncharacteristic insolence.
“You can believe I won’t let you get far enough to find out.” Nathaniel’s voice rumbled with tightly-controlled fury.
“How will you stop me?” Dothan challenged. “You can’t kill me, I’m part human.”
“Kill you—wait, what? Part human?” I struggled to breathe as the edges of my vision turned gray. Blood drained from my head at an alarming rate, and I clawed at the bedspread to keep from tumbling over.
The gun in Nathaniel’s hand twitched. “I can hurt you. This is the last time I’m going to tell you to put it down.”
“No.” Dothan suddenly lunged toward the door, and Nathaniel’s arm came up in a blur. A metallic rattle split the air, and Dothan reeled backwards. He slapped his right hand over his wounded shoulder, the book dropping from his injured arm. Crimson blooms soaked into the white cotton of the glove as Dothan released a string of curses.
The sight of blood pierced my daze and spurred me into action. Finally, there was something I could do that made sense. “Don’t move—I’m calling 911,” I announced, my voice breaking with hysteria. I rushed toward the phone on the nightstand.
“No!” they shouted in unison.
I froze, gaping at them. “But we need an ambulance. Dothan’s bleeding.” The receiver shook in my sweaty palm, and I gripped it harder.
“Put the phone down, Jamie,” Nathaniel instructed. He moved cautiously toward the book, keeping a watchful eye on Dothan as he bent to retrieve it.
Dothan shot me a final pleading look before darting past Nathaniel toward the bedroom door. The receiver sank to my chest as I watched him flee.
Nathaniel strode over to me, his eyes on the phone. An electric shock, stronger than the kind that emanated from Dothan’s touch, shot up my arm as he yanked the receiver from my hand and placed it back on the base.
I sucked in a breath, my overloaded mind threatening to crash and burn. A logical thought surfaced, and I latched on to it. Obviously this was a dream. I stared at Nathaniel, waiting for him to turn into an astronaut or a kangaroo.
But he remained my grandfather, the man I thought I knew. I bit down on my lip, hard, and the flare of pain confirmed I was awake.
“Did he take a photograph?” Nathaniel demanded.
I shook my head miserably. “No. I’m positive he didn’t.” Whatever that was worth. “I’m sorry,” I tacked on in a whisper.
“I know, Jamie,” he said, settling a large hand on my shoulder. “And I understand that he tricked you. But now I need to…deal with a few things.” He sighed, dropping his hand but pinning me with a hard stare. “I have to go out for a while. Stay away from that boy—he’s dangerous. I don’t mean to alarm you, but I want you to stay inside. And lock your doors.”
I nodded weakly. There weren’t too many places I could go without a car anyway. Sam’s house was in walking distance, but I couldn’t imagine trying to talk to anyone right now. My throat was already closing up as I trudged back up the stairs.
Chapter 18
I pushed in the seldom-used lock on the door at the top of the stairs, my chest hitching with painful spasms. My vision swam as I passed by the little dining table to bolt the kitchen entrance. Dothan’s place at the table had been cleared of all evidence of his presence; only my soda cup remained as proof of our lunch date.
The rasping sobs broke free as I crawled under my mom’s covers. A nightmare of emotions boiled through me, and my anguished mind couldn’t find a safe place to settle. I curled into a ball, the tears soaking my pillowcase.
Part human? The phrase defied explanation. What could that even mean? I tried to picture the hot guy who kissed me with such intensity as a cyborg. No. Not possible. But Dothan definitely had a dark, secretive side; he had probably just meant the words as some type of derisive statement about himself.
Nathaniel had seemed to understand him, though. I tried to rewind their cryptic conversation in my head. Dothan had told Nathaniel he couldn’t kill him. How could something in an old book cause such mayhem?
Maybe I could translate the Latin, figure out what was so important. That would at least give me something to go on. But the likelihood of getting my hands on the book was slim. If Nathaniel had returned it to the safe, he had surely changed the code and reset the silent alarm.
I felt incredibly guilty for betraying Nathaniel’s trust. But how could I ever have imagined a scenario like this? He’d never given me any indication the books held some sort of power. He had trusted me enough to give me the code in case something happened to him. Now I’d inadvertently unleashed a horrible chain of events that ended with Dothan injured and Nathaniel in trouble.
None of those awful things were the real reason for the soul-splitting sobs tearing me apart, though. Dothan had been using me all along, plain and simple. Nathaniel somehow fit into his plans for revenge, and I was merely a means to an end. Pain sliced through my heart with every beat.
Had he taken a job at Fox Run to get closer to me? He’d seemed genuinely surprised to find out I lived with Nathaniel, so our few encounters up until that point may have been coincidental. The connection between them certainly explained why Dothan had been lurking around our house the day of the paintball incident. And that was the day he had asked me out.
My stomach twisted violently. I leapt up and ran for the bathroom, clutching my abdomen. Nothing happened, though, as I knelt over the porcelain toilet bowl. Eventually I forced myself to standing, only to be assaulted by my reflection in the mirror.
My brown eyes stared at me from swollen lids, the whites stained by a network of pink lines. Red, angry blotches covered my skin. With a sigh, I bent to splash my face with cold water.
It wasn’t enough. I was still dusty from the barn. My morning ride seemed like it took place in another lifetime, I mused as I filled the tub. Pulling out a washcloth from the closet, I rinsed it in cold water and laid it over my eyes while I soaked in the steamy water.
When the water grew tepid, I dried off and wrapped myself in a pink robe covered with brown horses. I still needed to do laundry, but mundane domestic chores would have to wait. Just bathing had sapped most of my energy. I padded into the small kitchen, carefully averting my gaze from the circular table.
I filled a mug with water and shoved it in the microwave. Tea would help. I wandered over to the window while I waited for the water to heat, dangling the tea bag from my puckered fingertips.
My car sat outside on the street in its usual spot. Holy crap. How was that even possible? A tiny seed of hope sprung to life my chest, and I struggled to squash it. Just because he’d fixed my car didn’t mean he cared. Although it did say something about his priorities—he had left here bleeding from a gunshot wound. Despite his injury, he’d somehow managed to complete the repair and return the car.
The microwave beeped, and I returned to the counter. A small pang pierced my heart as I thought of Dothan fixing my car after being shot. Either the bullet had just grazed his skin, or he really was only “part human”.
An icy shiver suddenly turned into violent anger as the realization hit me: he was responsible for my car trouble in the first place. He’d deliberately tampered with my engine in order to get to the house today.
I gripped the steaming mug with unnecessary force, plunging the tea bag i
nto the water. Fresh adrenaline spilled into my veins. Dothan had not only messed with my emotions, he’d messed with my property. I stomped back into my bedroom, grimacing as the hot tea sloshed onto my hand.
Ten minutes later I opened my car door to find the keys on the seat. I didn’t care that Nathaniel had told me to stay put. He was still out, taking care of his secret business. I was sick of being the one in the dark. I turned the key, holding my breath. The engine turned over immediately, and I slammed my foot down on the accelerator.
Abandoning my usual safe driving practices, I raced to the stable like a demon. I was going to get some answers and vent my rage, not necessarily in that order. The tires squealed as I turned left into Fox Run’s driveway. Only then did I slow down a bit, mindful of the dogs racing down the hill with fresh enthusiasm for a late afternoon visitor.
His car was there, but he wasn’t in the fields. He wasn’t in any of the public areas of the stable, either. So there was only one place he could be. I strode purposefully toward the tiny room he inhabited. My hand reached out to try the knob, and it turned easily in my sweaty palm.
I hesitated, my heart thundering in my chest. The fury burning through me dictated an assertive approach: I would storm into the room unannounced, demanding answers. But I couldn’t quite ignore the manners instilled in me over the years. I settled for a compromise. Banging my fist against the unfinished wood, I waited a beat before swinging the door open.
Dothan glanced up at me as I stomped into the small room. He was sitting on a mattress on the floor, his back resting against the wall. A stained shirt lay on the rumpled bedclothes; his upper body was completely bare except for a bloody square of gauze taped across his arm.
I stared at him, momentarily speechless. Well-defined muscles formed ridges beneath his skin, even in his relaxed position. His hair hung to his bare shoulders in messy pieces. The expression on his face reminded me of a wounded wolf.
His indescribable beauty made me hate him even more. “You used me,” I said, my words dripping with contempt.
He didn’t bother to argue. Instead, he reached for a whiskey bottle propped next to him. His muscles rippled as he brought the bottle to his lips.
“You’re drinking?” I asked incredulously.
“I’m managing the pain.” He shrugged, taking another swig.
“You might try ibuprofen.”
“That would only help with the pain in my shoulder.” Regret darkened his eyes before he shut them with a sigh.
My resolve weakened slightly. I reminded myself he was a master manipulator. He could probably pull off a convincing performance even when drunk. Still, he was basically alone in the world, and he needed medical attention.
“You should get to a hospital. I can’t let you drive after drinking, so…I’ll take you,” I added grudgingly.
“Thank you. But the list of reasons why I can’t go to a hospital is long. Besides, it only grazed the flesh. It’s healing already.” He set the bottle between his legs and lifted the tape with a grimace. The inside of the gauze was saturated with dark brown blood, but the torn flesh of his injured arm was already closing.
I sucked in a breath. “How…?” Shaking my head, I tried again. “Dothan, what did you mean by ‘part human’? I deserve to know the truth.”
He smiled wryly. “I suppose you do. You’re much more involved than I thought. For the record, I didn’t know Nathaniel was your grandfather. I just thought he was your boss.”
I couldn’t see why that was important—either way, he’d still used me to get to Nathaniel’s book. But I was quick to defend our relationship. “He’s my adoptive grandfather. Not officially, but in every way that matters. He became my legal guardian when my mother died.”
He took another slug of the amber liquid. “Where’s your father? I assumed since you’ve never mentioned him that he’s not around much, but doesn’t he at least support you?”
I laughed scornfully. “He’s not around, period. I wouldn’t know him if I tripped over him.”
“I’m sorry, Jamie.” His tone suggested he truly meant it.
I steeled myself against his sympathy. “Well, not all fathers are as great as yours apparently was. Which brings us back, I’m pretty sure, to the disaster today. I’m not leaving until you explain.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” He studied the bottle in his hand as if the answer were trapped inside.
“How about the beginning?” I suggested, turning slightly to kick the door shut.
He laughed wildly, his abdominal muscles rippling with the effort. “The beginning? Okay, sure. Are you familiar with Genesis?”
My mind flew to the old band, but that couldn’t be it. “I…I’m not sure what you mean.” I was beginning to feel very awkward standing there. The “apartment” consisted of one meager all-purpose room with its own entrance to the stable’s bathroom. Beside that door, a makeshift kitchen area had been set up; a mini-fridge sat on the floor underneath a table stacked with food, dishes, and a microwave. A heavy sadness joined my anger and confusion as I took in his barren existence.
I had no idea where he was going with this “Genesis” thing, but I did know I needed to sit down immediately. Unfortunately, my choices were limited. A chair stood by an old dresser, but it was heaped with clothing. The only other option was the bed. A flush warmed my cheeks, and I bent my head and strode toward the chair.
“Genesis? The first book of the Bible? Old Testament?” His glazed eyes tracked my movements.
“Uh, I’m not very religious,” I explained, unceremoniously dumping his clothes to the floor. I dragged the chair over and plunked myself down, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It literally means ‘the origin’. You should read Genesis 6. Book of Enoch.” He took another long pull from the bottle.
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t happen to have a copy at the moment.” Somehow I felt defensive over my lack of religious education. I knew I was a Christian of some sort, but my mother had always placed more emphasis on the spirituality found in nature. I wracked my brain, but all I could come up with was the story of Noah and the Ark. “Maybe you could just fill me in on the important stuff?”
“Oh, why the hell not?” He ran his hand through his disheveled locks. “My judgment may be impaired at the moment, but it’s all there in black and white for anyone looking.”
Huh? “You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on,” I pointed out, feigning calmness. But my pulse quickened, thudding urgently through my veins.
“Genesis 6: ‘Now it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born to them; that the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves of all whom they chose.’”
I forced myself to take a breath. “Sons of God?”
“Angels. Mating with humans, and producing children that belonged to neither race. The offspring of these unions were called Nephilim. The Nephilim were strong and virile, but they were also aberrations. They were snuffed out, outlawed, and they disappeared for thousands of years. Until now.”
My throat turned to dust. Was he having a psychotic break? I swallowed with difficulty, trying to figure out what to say next. “So…you’re trying to eradicate the…Nephilim?”
“No,” he said bitterly. “I am Nephilim. The only one.”
I stared at him, unable to blink. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“No, not really,” he admitted. His tone was cavalier, despite the disappointment shining in his eyes. “But I thought maybe you, of all people, might.”
Guilt pricked at me. Somehow he was turning this around, making me the bad guy. “Dothan, you’re delusional. You’ve had too much to drink.”
“One of those things is probably true, anyway.” He pushed himself forward on the bed, stretching his long legs out along the floor. The bottle dangled from his fingers in the space between his knees. “You should go.”<
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Now he was dismissing me? I gaped at him, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. I’d come for an explanation, and he’d given me one. A ridiculously outlandish one that insulted my intelligence. Even if I suspended belief in order to accept his claim, it didn’t begin to justify his actions. It only led to more questions that I would feel foolish even asking.
“Go,” he repeated. “Do something normal. Ride your horse.”
His words stung, as he had meant them to. But I didn’t want to leave on his terms. I jumped up, latching on to the one rational phrase he’d uttered. “And who’s going to take care of the horses?” I moved closer to the door, waving my shaky hand in the general direction of Beau’s stall. “You certainly can’t, in your present condition.”
He stood up quickly, with much more grace than I would have ever expected, given the amount of whisky missing from the bottle.
“I know you must hate me, Jamie,” he said, crossing the small room. He stood over me, close enough for me to smell the sweet tang of the alcohol on his breath. “And I can’t say I blame you. But one thing you should know is that I take my responsibilities very seriously.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “All of them.”
He reached out and ran his fingers down the length of one of my curls, smiling sadly when I flinched. “Mr. White helped me return your car,” he continued, tucking the curl behind my ear. My skin sizzled as his fingers brushed my ear, the mysterious current making my head spin with thoughts of his earlier claim. I had to drag my focus back to Dothan’s words.
“So he saw my injury,” Dothan explained, dropping his hand. “He doesn’t know the details, of course—but he told me to take the night off. He’ll take care of the animals.”
“Good,” I breathed, gazing at his bare chest. My traitorous body trembled, longing to close the distance between us. Despite everything, I still wanted him. Maybe I was the one in need of psychiatric intervention here.
He leaned toward me, and my heart stopped. But he only reached for the doorknob and swung the door open.
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