Speak Thy Name (The Nephilim Book 3)

by Dana Marie Bell

  Sam chuckled. “I found him in a Taco Bell parking lot eating a taco.”

  The kids looked confused. “What’s Taco Bell?” Nate asked.

  Sam’s heart broke for them. “Someday I’ll take you there. Not everyone likes their food, but Donny and I do.”

  Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. “What’s going on in here? And how come I wasn’t invited?” Damien’s voice sounded cheerful. She hoped that meant his meeting had gone well.

  “I’m just saying hello to Nate and Elsa.” She glanced up at him, smiling when she found he was watching the kids. “I bet they’re hungry.”

  Nate nodded so fast she was afraid his head would fall off.

  Elsa, on the other hand, shrugged.

  “I think between the four of us we could whip up some pancakes.” Damien stood, holding his hand out. “What do you say?”

  The kids stared at Damien’s hand warily.

  Sam pretended to think about it. “I guess so, but only if we can have chocolate chips in them.”

  Suddenly, they had Nate’s undivided attention. Elsa still seemed to be holding back, but from the way she inched forward Sam thought she wasn’t as reluctant as she seemed.

  “We might even have powdered sugar somewhere.” Damien stepped forward, careful of the relaxing dogs. “Want to help make them?”

  Nate stood, despite his sister’s tug on his shirt. “Yes, yes, yes!” He hopped up and down, almost stomping on Donny. “Pannycakes!”

  Damien chuckled and picked the boy up. “Then let’s get started.” He looked at Elsa. “We’d love it if you came and helped, too.”

  Elsa’s expression was filled with longing before it was quickly masked. “Maybe.”

  Sam stood and picked the girl up. “Anything else you’d like for breakfast? Eggs, maybe?” She followed Damien into the kitchen. The dogs followed as well, the click-clack of their nails loud on the wooden floors.

  “What do the dogs eat?” Elsa was watching them rather than where they were going.

  “Not chocolate chip pancakes. Chocolate is poisonous to dogs.”

  Elsa gasped in horror. She shook her finger at the dogs. “No pancakes for you!”

  Sam laughed. “We’ll feed them first, okay? They have their own food, and once they’ve eaten they won’t beg for ours.”

  “Can I help feed them?” Elsa finally sounded excited about something.

  “Sure you can.” Sam set the little girl down on the floor. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Elsa nodded.

  “How old are you?” Sam wanted to make sure the girl was as young as she thought. The poor thing was skin and bones, really.

  “I’m five.” The girl held up five fingers. “Nate is four.” She tucked her thumb against her palm.

  “Wow. You’re a big girl.” Sam began digging out the dog food and bowls. “I bet you can use the can opener all by yourself.”

  Elsa rolled her eyes. “I can cook.”

  “You can?” Sam handed the girl the bowls. “Over here, sweetie.”

  Elsa handled the bowls like they were the finest china, placing them carefully where Sam pointed. “Yup. I can make soup from a can, and toast, and peanut butter and jelly sammiches, and I can cut up carrots so we can eat them.”

  “That’s a lot of stuff.” Sam shared a look with Damien. He was smiling, but the fury in his gaze probably matched her own. “Did your momma teach you that?”

  The girl winced, collapsing in on herself. “No. Momma was mad a lot, like Daddy.”

  “We won’t make a mess, we pwomise,” Nate whispered. He was staring at the bowl in front of him with a quivering lip.

  “We know, Nate. And I promise, if we spill some flour or drop an egg on the floor, no one will get mad at us, okay?” Damien hugged the little boy tightly.

  “He’s right. None of us will get mad.” Sam knelt and held her arms out, but instead of a little girl she found herself bowled over by two hungry dogs. When the lick-fest began, she couldn’t stop giggling. “Guys! How can I feed you like this?”

  Elsa laughed, but Sam couldn’t see her past the furry heads of her beloved pets. Sam hugged Precious, rubbed Donny all over, and generally gave in to her favorite past-time: the Brody love fest.

  Damien whistled, and the dogs got off her, rushing to their bowls to eat. Elsa squealed as Donny practically ran her over, his little body quivering with excitement. Precious was more subdued, stopping for a moment to love on Elsa before going to her bowl.

  “She licked my chin,” Elsa whispered.

  “She likes you.” Damien held out his hand and helped Sam to her feet. Once she was standing he put his arm around her waist, tugging her close.

  Sam didn’t want to move away, even with the promise of pancakes.

  The smile that came over the little girl’s face was breathtaking.

  Nate banged his spoon on the side of the mixing bowl. “Can we add chocolate now?”

  Damien pulled Sam after him. “Sure thing, kiddo.” He turned to Elsa, who trailed behind them. “Can you get me eggs and butter, please?”

  Elsa nodded, and together the four of them made the sloppiest, most delicious pancakes Sam had ever tasted.

  “Oh my God, guys, these are awesome.”

  “Awesome!” Nate giggled. He had powdered sugar on his nose, melted chocolate all over his lips, and his hair was so full of flour it looked white.

  Elsa, on the other hand, had barely anything on her. “They are really good.” She bit her lip. “Thank you for making us breakfast.”

  “Yeah, thank you.” Nate’s smile was full of chocolate.

  Sam laughed. “You two need a bath and to brush your teeth.”

  The children suddenly went silent. They exchanged a glance full of fear. “Can we take a shower instead?” Elsa’s subdued tone and downcast eyes set Sam on edge.

  “Of course, sweetheart, but can you tell me why?”

  Elsa shrugged. “Don’t like baths.”

  Nate was shaking. “The man took a baf and he never woke up, even when I shook him and shook him.”

  Sam closed her eyes as Damien cursed quietly. “Showers it is, then.” She opened her eyes. “What happened to that man?”

  “He left. Momma said he was never coming back.” Elsa had tears in her eyes. “They tried to make the singing man go to sleep in the tub, too, but he kept waking up.”

  “That’s a good thing.” Damien put his hand over Nate’s. “The singing man’s name is Rafael, but his friends call him Rafe.”

  “Rafe,” Nate whispered.

  “Did I hear my name?” A man hobbled in, a wobbly smile on his lips. It was obvious he was in pain, but he managed to make his way to the table.

  “Rafe!” Nate hopped out of his chair and threw himself at the injured man.

  Elsa had tears in her eyes as she, too, ran to Rafe. The kids hugged him tight, the affection Rafe held for them obvious in his swift response.

  Rafe knelt down, hugging them close, their little arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His eyes were closed and a small smile was on his face. He looked at peace, wrapped in those small arms. “You’re both safe, thank God.”

  Elsa whispered loudly into Rafe’s ear. “Did the bad guys hurt you?”

  Rafe winced before sitting back on his heels. “Yes, they did, but Damien and the rest of my brothers saved me. You can trust them, okay?”

  Elsa toyed with the edge of Rafe’s T-shirt. “Okay.”

  Nate was holding on to Rafe as if he’d never see him again. His little head was tucked against Rafe’s neck, and Rafe didn’t seem to mind all that much.

  “Did I smell pancakes?” Rafe stood, holding Nate in one arm, Elsa hanging on to his other.

  Sam hopped up. “Yes, you did. Want some?”

  Rafe whined, and the kids laughed. “Please?”

  Damien helped Sam make some more pancakes while the kids chatted quietly with Rafael. He asked them about their day, whether or not they were in school…and exactly how mu
ch flour did Nate have in his hair? He looked like a snow elf! It was a nice thing to listen to, and Sam found herself smiling over how normal it all seemed.

  Even the way Sam and Damien worked in the kitchen seemed so…normal, as if they’d been working together for years. Sam scrambled up some eggs for Rafe while Damien worked on the pancakes, the two of them quietly moving around and listening to the children chatter. At one point, Sam glanced at Damien to find a simple joy shining through him. It showed in his movements, the soft touches to her back or shoulders, and the way he smiled when the children laughed.

  “Rafe?” Damien slid a plate of pancakes and eggs in front of Rafe. Sam noticed that Rafe’s arms were around the children, hugging them tight.

  “Yeah?” Rafe’s smile was a little lopsided.

  Damien hesitated, then grinned. “Welcome home, man.”

  Rafe sighed. “You have no idea how good it feels to be here.”

  Sam hummed a cheery song as she cleaned up the dishes. Elsa silently joined her, drying and putting them on a rack. Rafe, Damien, and Nate talked quietly, answering Nate’s questions as best they could, considering how rapidly they were coming from the child’s mouth. Sam wasn’t sure the kid took a breath the whole time.

  “Wow. Your brother can talk.”

  Elsa gave an unladylike grunt, a sound Sam wasn’t used to hearing from a child.

  “Yeah,” Sam replied. “I hear ya.”

  Elsa shot her a weird look, but continued drying dishes.

  “Kids, want to go see something neat?” Rafe stood with his arm around Nate and a huge grin on his face. He still looked beat to shit, but his smile and the way he interacted with the kids kept Sam from insisting he go rest more. Some people just did better when other people were around. Sam didn’t get it, but perhaps Rafe was one of those.

  “Sure!” Nate bounced, his gaze on Rafael adoring.

  Elsa dried her hands and carefully folded the towel. “I’d like to.” Her gaze was more reserved, but when she looked at Rafe a smile broke out. “What is it?”

  “It’s a surprise.” Rafe put his fingers to his lips and pointed to the backyard. “But it’s outside.”

  Both children followed him outside, Nate skipping, Elsa far more reserved but practically quivering with curiosity.

  “What do you think he’s showing them?” Sam peeked outside, only to see her dogs, a sprinkler, and two water guns. “Oh hell.”

  Damien laughed. He hugged her from behind, his chin on her shoulder. “Gotta love that wet dog smell, huh?”

  Her responding grunt was very Elsa-like.

  Chapter 18

  After breakfast, Damien left Sam and Rafe and headed for the security room. He needed to begin the research into Charles Armitage. He needed to bring up the Nephilim database and see if anyone with that name popped up anywhere in the archives.

  Damien made sure to close and lock the door behind him. With two children in the house, he didn’t want them getting in here. Beyond the computer room, he and his brothers kept weapons. He especially didn’t want the kids getting into them. Once he was certain the door was locked he settled at the computer and began typing, smiling as the database popped up. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  “What’s up?” Sam yawned as she plopped into the seat next to him.

  He frowned. “I locked the door behind me.”

  She blinked at him, her expression completely blank.

  “You know how to pick a lock?”

  Sam merely smiled, twirling in her seat.

  He sighed. “Did you relock it behind you?”

  “Of course. I figured you’d have locked it for a reason.”

  He pointed to one of the walls. “We have weapons in here.”

  “Oh.” She sat up a little straighter. “Beth has been working with some of us on weapon safety and how to shoot for a couple of months. Will you help?”

  “Why?” The last thing he wanted was for Sam to have to use a weapon, but all things considered, it might be a good idea to teach her.

  “Self-defense.” She shrugged. “So far she’s only been working with me and Abby. The others aren’t as keen on learning, even Andi.”

  Both Abby and Beth had been attacked by Shem. No wonder they wanted to make sure they could take one down if needed. “It makes sense. She’s trying to keep you safe in her own way.”

  “Yes.” Sam smiled. “So?”

  Damien nodded. “Yeah, I’ll help. We’ll figure out what type of gun you work best with and get all the permits you need, okay?”

  She bounced in her seat. “Yes!”

  Damien couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, Annie Oakley, care to help me with something?”

  “The Nephilim database, right? You mentioned it last time we were in here.” She peered curiously at the screen. “How long has it been in use?”

  “Since the eighties. It took a while to get the paper files input, but we have family lines now, both Neph and Shem, to help us narrow things down. We still get by-blows—”

  “By-blows?” Sam wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like something out of a Regency romance.”

  Damien huffed. “That’s probably because it is. Out of the Regency period, I mean, or even earlier. Basically it means that somewhere in this person’s ancestry is a Neph or Shem, and suddenly that recessed DNA has decided to give you the prize. Congrats, you’ve got powers, only no one else in the family does and they think you’re either Satan or mentally disturbed. Most by-blows don’t survive into adulthood unless we find them before they implode, or their families commit them or drug them or, in radical cases, kill them.”

  “So how do you get by-blows if you tend to marry and reproduce with humans?” Sam tilted her head, her nose scrunching up adorably as she concentrated. “Does that mean it’s always recessive?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” Damien had wondered the same thing himself. “Just sometimes the children aren’t one or the other, just human. And then their children are human, and so on, until a by-blow appears, starting the whole cycle over again.”

  “Huh. So you’re saying it could be mystical rather than medical.” Sam’s expression cleared. “Considering what you guys can do, that actually makes a weird kind of sense.”

  “How so?”

  “God chooses who serves and who doesn’t.” Sam peered into the database, ignoring his surprise at how well she understood their nature. “Who are we researching?”

  “I’m looking up more on the Armitage connection, namely Charles Armitage.”

  “Charles?” Sam got that look of concentration on her face. “No Charles listed in the company records or the family that currently runs Armitage Computing. Where’d you come up with that name?”

  Damien began typing once more. “Rafael mentioned that he overheard his captors discussing Charles as the real leader of the Shem cell operating in this area.”

  “I’ll dig a little more into the emails, see if a Charles, Chaz, or just. C.A. is mentioned at all.” Sam pulled out a tablet PC and began scrolling through documents.

  “Sam? Is that thing on the Internet?” Fuck. If she’d brought a live connection into Gabriel’s without allowing Damien to go over it first—

  “It’s in airplane mode, and I had it turned off until I got in here. It shouldn’t ping off of any cell towers, so no one should be able to track me that way.” Sam patted Damien’s thigh. “I’ll give it to you as soon as I’m done, and you can do your magic to make it Shem-proof, okay?”

  Damien relaxed. “Yeah, thanks. Best thing to do for now is not use it at all outside of this room. You need to make a phone call, you use Gabriel’s land-line.”

  She was quiet for a moment. Her shoulders hunched in again, and her hands tightened around the tablet PC. “Can I have Abby and Beth come visit?”

  “Ask Gabriel, but since both of them are family, I don’t think he’ll object.” Damien understood how close Sam was to both women, and was frankly surprised that she hadn’t asked earlier.
/>   “Thanks.” She relaxed and went back to her tablet.

  Damien found the Armitage entries fairly easily. He narrowed the search down to the tristate area of Delaware, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Checking the family trees, the only Charles he found had died back in the 1920s. “Sam?”

  “Hmm?” She glanced up, blinking.

  “Take a look at this.” He wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. A second set of eyes should confirm what he already suspected.

  “There’s no Charles anywhere, except a death notice in 1929.” Sam frowned. “Widen the search parameters. Look for some Charles outside the direct line, or one that isn’t from around here.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. There isn’t even a Charlene or any other feminine version of Charles.”

  “There’s a Carlson, but that’s it for C names, and he died in 1957.” Sam held up the tablet. “And so far nothing with any references to a Charles, Chaz, or C.A.”

  “An alias?” Damien sat back and stared at the family tree he’d dug up. Shem after Shem had been born into the Armitage family, and more than one had been terminated by a Neph in Gabriel’s cell. Some had faded into obscurity, some had been taken care of by other cells, and one or two had actually been turned, becoming Nephilim. Huh. Proof it was possible, after all.

  Or they could have been children like Nate and Elsa.

  “Could be someone who wants to be linked to that original Charles. Maybe a middle name? I had a friend in school who went by theirs, even though their legal name was Robert.” Sam pointed at the Charles entry. “Any chance of finding out more about him? Because that might lead us to his admirer.”

  Damien clicked on the Charles entry. “Let’s see. Charles Armitage, Seris Shem, ran a sausage company, killed by Benjamin Costello, Nephilim Knight, in an alley behind his business. Seems he was feeding off the homeless who came by the back of his shop for free handouts.”

  “In 1929?” Sam scowled at the screen. “That alone should have been suspicious, a sausage maker giving away free sausages to the homeless.” She frowned, pointing to the exact date of death—October 30, 1929. “That was the day after the stock market crash.”