The Nephilim: Book One

by Bridgette Blackstone

  The figure didn’t move, even when she was mere inches away, and before contemplating her actions she reached up and tore his hood back.

  She gasped. Before her stood her brother, her twin, his face immediately recognizable. It was almost as if she looked in a mirror, his nose upturned, his cheekbones high. She’d seen him every day since the moment either had come into the world until they were separated, and suddenly that weight came crashing down on her. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his wide shoulders. Then, the tears came. If anyone could understand, it would be him. “Oh, Troi! Where have you been?”

  Hands came to rest on her back, encircling her. They were warm, comforting, but fleeting. He grabbed her arms and held her away from him, his eyes, burning ocher, found hers. He stared long and hard at her. When he didn’t respond, she shook her head, “Troi, we have to go see Verrine. She’s been so worried—”

  “No!” he shouted, gripping her tighter, then relaxing with a sigh, “No, I mean, not now. There isn’t time.”

  “What?” her heart began to pound, “Why? What’s wrong?”

  He held her close to him, his voice low, "They won't let you fight, will they?"

  “What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes as she searched him. Something was off. He was anxious, she could feel that, but also far away as if he were almost trapped deep within himself. He wasn’t telling her something.

  "They say I'm not strong enough," she found herself saying, though she hadn’t intended to.

  “And they refuse anything less than a war.”

  “Well,” she swallowed hard. He spoke so harshly it made her want to look away, but she couldn’t.

  “It's true. They cast aside what you want, don’t they? They treat as they always treated you, treated us. Incompetent, powerless.”

  Sophie nodded before she really processed what he said. She gasped at herself, “I think they mean well, it’s just—”

  “It is because they do not know, Sophie. They do not know what you really are. I suppose they cannot be blamed for their ignorance,” the corners of his lips twitched, “but what would they say if they knew? Would they really change their minds?”

  She dropped her chin and squinted up at him. It was impossible, it seemed, to break eye contact, “What are you saying?”

  “You are not a demon, Sophie.”

  The truth washed over her like the waters of the black river beyond the gates. It was warm relief, and she almost smiled until she realized that it meant everyone else, all of them, had lied.

  “No, no, you are so much more,” he brought his face closer to hers, their noses almost touching, “You are a nephilim.”

  The word hung in the air though she did not know what it meant, heavy and powerful and almost frightening. She let it seep into her, lay its weight upon her, and she whispered it back to him, “Nephilim?”

  “Yes. Children of the astral. The union of angel and demon is strictly forbidden because of the great power the offspring would hold. Power that we hold.”

  “You mean our parents aren’t both demons?”

  Troian shook his head while keeping his eyes trained on hers, “That is why we have been kept secret, banished within the castle walls. Our parents were foolish to hide us, our power, from the world. But now, we can use that power, Sophie. Power that is so far beyond what any of them know. We are the mighty ones of renown.”

  Her head spun, her vision blurred, and she would have fallen if he had not been holding onto her. She blinked up at him, her mind swimming, “But it doesn’t change that I’m so weak,” she leaned against his arms for support, “I can’t do anything.”

  “Oh, but it does,” his eyes were aflame, “I can bring you to someone with the answers.”

  “Answers,” she repeated, “I’d like that.”

  He began to guide her toward the gate.

  “Oh, but wait!” she gripped his arm, “There’s so much going on, and, well, everyone’s in danger here. I can’t just go.”

  “We have the power to make it all go away, Sophie. We can put an end to all of this. Don’t you see?” Troian was again staring into her eyes, “Every moment you stay with them, you put them in danger. Leaving is for their own good.”

  His words echoed Adam’s, and her heart sunk. But then a thought came to her. Is this why she wanted to become human in the first place? She tried hard to remember. Is this what Eric and his parents lost their lives for? And if this was the case, had Adam been keeping the truth from her all along?

  Heat bubbled up inside her and shot through her veins. The backs of her eyes burned, and she clenched her fists, “Fine. Let’s go.” Without another word, Troian replaced his hood, shadowing his face, and led her to the gate.

  “Sophie?” That voice was unmistakable.

  She turned and saw Adam hurriedly walking across the courtyard to them. It was dark, but she could see the ragged look he wore and his hair disheveled as if he had been running hands through it. He began to slow, “Sophie, what’s going on?”

  His voice somehow fanned the fire inside her. She grit her teeth, “I know the truth.”

  He stopped.

  “I know about the mighty ones of renown,” the words fell from her lips as if she were made to speak them, “I have to go.”

  As she turned away, he called to her, “Go where? Who is this?”

  “Stop,” she spoke as clearly as she was able, though her insides trembled, “Don’t try to follow me.”

  “Sophie, I—”

  “I said stop!”

  A white, hot light exploded from her hand as she swung it at him. Adam flew backward, and he cried out. When the light dissipated, his body lay limply on the ground. Sophie went to cover her mouth, shocked, but stopped, looking down at her own hand. Had she really just done that?

  She moved to go to him as he began to roll weakly to his side, but Troian caught her arm, “He will be in more danger if you stay.” She let him lead her away, terrified of herself, and they slipped through the gates.

  ***

  "Adam!" Verrine dropped down at his side, her eyes wide, "What happened?"

  Adam blinked up at her, Mona appearing behind her, equally shocked. He rolled onto his back revealing a bloody pool on the ground, crimson stains on his white shirt, and the skin of his right arm charred.

  Verrine gasped, "Who did this to you?"

  Adam swallowed hard, "Sophie."

  Verrine searched the courtyard as she took up his arm, “What? Where is she?”

  He winced and shut his eyes, "Gone.”

  “You seem healed,” Mona examined the arm Verrine was holding, "Those burns couldn’t have produced all that blood. How long was it before Thanatos found you?”

  “I don’t know,” he sat up with a groan, “I remember bright light, then darkness. I must have lost consciousness.”

  “Why would Sophie do this to you?" Mona furrowed her brow and growled, "What did you do?"

  "Stupid," Verrine spat at her, pulling him up, "That's not what he meant."

  Adam winced again as he came to his feet, "No. She did."

  Verrine released him and took a step back, beside Mona, "What did you do?"

  He looked past them toward the gate, ignoring their question, “She was with someone, but I couldn’t see the face. Said she had to go.”

  Verrine searched the ground, confusion taking her. "No one should be able to get in here without an escort," she huffed, “No one but the royals, but they’re certainly not here.”

  "She said not to follow," he stared blankly at the stone walls, “She said she knew the truth. She knew about the...the mighty ones of renown?”

  Mona snapped to attention, "The mighty ones of renown? Well, of course it’s them. The strigori have taken her.”

  “How did they get in?” Verrine’s voice was accusatory.

  “I don’t know!” Mona fired back, “But that is something they used to mumble about. Never said it around her, though, and I don’t kno
w how else she’d hear it.” She furrowed her brow.

  “What?” Verrine grabbed her without thinking and shook the girl, “What’s that look?”

  Mona groaned, shaking Verrine off, “They wanted Sophie in her demon form for the resurrection. But now they’ve got the book, maybe they don’t need her to be changed. Maybe they’re doing the resurrection now.” She looked distraught, “I can take us to where they’ll be.”

  Adam looked to Mona, "Are you sure they will still use that place even though you know it?”

  “They have to,” she swallowed hard, “it’s where Agrippa’s body is.”

  Chapter 15

  "This place gives me the creeps." Verrine shivered, staring out at the rocky landscape. The sky was dark, and the horizon mountainous. A cool breeze blew in from the coast behind them.

  “What, Earth?” Mona sniffed quietly, coming up to stand beside her.

  Verrine nodded, “Yes.”

  After gathering Reym and his five companions in arms, they had traversed the river and Mona had used her dagger to bring them to the Material World island on which Agrippa’s body had been interred.

  Mona sheathed her dagger and rested her hands on her hips, "You live in Hell and this place scares you?"

  "I didn't say I was scared!" Verrine hissed, balling her fists.

  Adam shook his head, "You’ve had very little exposure to this plane, Verrine. You’re at a much greater risk than the rest of us.”

  She growled lightly in the back of her throat, “I know, I know.”

  “He’s right,” Mona turned to the group and addressed the demons, “We are basically about to go into a strigori den on their home turf.”

  “If you think we have not built up sufficient immunity to strigori venom, you are quite mistaken,” Buer smiled beneath his massive red beard.

  “Yes, but please, do protect our little lamb,” Pru placed her hands on Verrine’s shoulders, “She will be reckless, if we know her well enough.”

  Mona held back laughter, biting her cheek, “I’ll do what I can for your lamb.”

  Verrine stuck her tongue out and Mona quickly turned away from her, leading them all forward. “This island is uninhabited. The burial place is just over this ridge.” She climbed upward with the rest at her back. As they crested the hill, Mona put out a hand to them to stop. The wind blew hard against her back, whipping her hair in front of her face, but she didn’t need to see. She could smell them. She looked back to the others, “There are at least fifty at the mouth of the tomb”

  “Ha,” Aeshma snorted, slamming a fist into her open hand, “That’s less than ten apiece.”

  “Remember the plan,” Reym slipped his bow over his head, “Let us draw them out and you get inside. We’ll keep them occupied.”

  When they nodded, the demon drew an arrow across his bow and released it. It sailed silently through the air, and they listened for it. Suddenly, a cry sounded out into the night. And it began.

  ***

  Naomi clutched the old tome to her chest as she paced in the center of the ancient room. Her heels echoed throughout the vast chamber as she made her way from one wall to another.

  "Would you please calm down," Rose spoke in a deep tone, her chin on her chest, leaning against the wall.

  Naomi spun in her direction, her chestnut mane splaying out around her, "Calm down?" Her eyes flashed yellow, "Will I calm down?" She strode up to the girl and towered above her, "This is the most important moment of my life. There is no room for error. And you ask me to be calm?"

  Rose snorted and rolled her eyes, looking up at her, "You don’t trust him, then?"

  Naomi’s words caught in her throat, and she growled and turned away, resuming her pacing. Rose flashed Danielle a knowing smile, and the pink-haired girl giggled.

  Michael watched the scene silently from across the chamber, seated on the dusty floor. In a way, he was glad for the new dynamic between Naomi and Rose as it left him out of either of their lines of sight and was at least intriguing, but he envied Simon, already assigned to a different mission, and even Grant, useless in his human form and left at the apartment thousands of miles away. The stale air here made his stomach turn and he always found the darkness underground different from any other, oppressive and threatening. He hated to be this close to death no matter how ironic that was.

  Naomi suddenly rushed to the altar in the room’s center and slammed the book down, “What is this?”

  She fixed her eyes on the high-domed ceiling of the room as the stones there began to crack. Michael jumped to his feet and plastered himself against the wall as dirt and stone fell into the chamber followed by a burst of moonlight. A massive, shadowed figure dropped down through the newly made opening, landing atop the altar, inches from Naomi. She jumped back as the crouching man came to his full height.

  “Apollyon,” she whispered, wide-eyed and in awe of the sight. He looked down on her bleakly, massive white wings wrapped around his body. Even Rose stood at attention.

  The angel unfurled his feathered appendages, and Michael shifted along the wall to see. They spread out gloriously on either side of the man, catching the light, and each feather seemed to have its own life. In their wake, the body of a young female human was draped neatly over his arms, her ashy-blonde curls falling messily around her, her eyes shut. Michael recognized Sophie immediately and, though he expected it, the hunger he hadn’t been able to control in her presence did not come. Instead, some other ill feeling swam around in the pit of his stomach.

  Apollyon gently placed the girl on the altar as he dismounted it, then reached inside his shirt. He removed an object, his hand clasped tightly around it, “Rose, my dear, would you be so kind?” he lazily rolled his head against his shoulders, and she took Danielle’s hand and pulled her from the room in response. “Don’t forget about our guest,” he reminded her as she went, and the two disappeared.

  When they had left, Apollyon opened his hand and balanced a red stone on his palm. Naomi locked her eyes on it, “Is that—”

  “I thought you would like to see what it has been doing.” Apollyon set the stone on the altar beside the girl, and it flashed, bright and blinding. As the light dissipated, a figure stood in its place, cloaked and dark.

  Naomi fell instantly to her knees, “My lord.”

  Thought he had never seen him, Michael knew this was Agrippa, or at least a shade of him. He too took a knee.

  After a long moment, Naomi raised her head, “How is this possible?”

  “I am not truly here, not yet," he ran a hand along the altar and circled it, “I have been using the stone and a vessel to do my bidding,” he jerked his head toward Naomi and, though his hooded cloak covered his face, he still stared daggers at the woman, “Work I had entrusted to others.”

  “Forgive me,” Naomi’s voice cracked.

  The figure stepped before her and reached out for her chin, lifting her to her feet, “Now, now. You are one of my oldest disciples, your blood runs pure. You are still useful to me yet.” When he released her, she shriveled in on herself. He did not notice, but instead turned to Michael, “And this is the boy?”

  Apollyon answered in the affirmative.

  The cloaked figure looked over the still kneeling Michael, and the man refused to raise his head, “He is strong, unique,” he turned back to Apollyon, “A final test, then?”

  Apollyon nodded, “Go to Rose, she will give you orders for tonight.”

  Michael stiffly raised to his feet, casting a sidelong glance at Naomi. She was no longer fearsome, her existence dwarfed by the other two. He turned and began to leave the chamber, heading for the entrance of the labyrinth. As he left he could still hear Agrippa’s rough voice, “Now, wake her.”

  ***

  The tomb’s entrance sloped sharply and Mona lost her balance, sliding down into a round pit, Verrine and Adam toppling down just behind her. The sounds of the others outside, weapons clanging and shrill cries, were all but completely shut out now th
at they were beneath the earth. Light fell in behind them through the opening above, spilling out onto the floor in a single spot that they found themselves in, and the three quickly scrambled to their feet and stood back to back, peering into the dark depths of the room. There was an opening at the chamber’s far side, a single candle hanging in a metal cage beside it for illumination, but the way between was wide and long, and Mona could sense the presence of others. Familiar others.

  "Oh, this is surprising."

  Mona turned immediately, her stomach twisting. Rose sauntered from the shadows, her ebony hair covering her like a cloak, "But I thought we'd have some real competition."

  Verrine crouched beside Mona, readying herself to spring, but Mona held her back. “Wait,” she hissed at the demon, watching Rose as she came forward. The woman didn’t appear prepared to attack.

  Danielle’s shrill voice sounded from behind, gasping, and Mona quickly turned to see her. Her pink pigtails were bound loosely atop her head and bounced with each step. She pointed at Verrine, her eyes wild, "Hey! You're supposed to be dead! We killed you!"

  "Well," Verrine glanced at Mona, and she nodded, "I'm back." The demon released a flame she’d ignited in her hands and sent it toward Danielle. The strigori swore and dodged, shooting herself across the chamber. Verrine’s flame hit the wall with enough impact to shatter the stones there, earth crumbling to the ground behind them. Verrine, however, did not watch to see if damage had been done, and instead twisted and sent another flame hurtling toward Rose who sprung from its path, unable to hide the surprise on her face.

  Adam readied himself, but Mona stopped him, "This is a distraction. You go ahead. We can handle this, can't we?" She turned to Verrine for confirmation, but the demon was already igniting flames in her palms and traipsing toward Rose. Adam hesitated only a moment before nodding to her and sprinting for the next chamber. Neither Rose nor Danielle attempted to stop him.