Speak Thy Name (The Nephilim Book 3)

by Dana Marie Bell

  Eli closed his eyes, obviously in pain. “Before I say anything, you have to understand. Not every cell treats Oracles well. We’re seen as living television sets or security cameras, eyes in the sky sort of thing. Not many understand how cloudy the visions are, or how circumstances can change what we see, making the future mutable. So some of us are abused, either due to a lack of understanding or because they believe we deliberately lied to them…”

  “Like you?” Seth’s tone was soft, but Sam could practically see the fury pouring off him in waves.

  Eli shrugged. “I had it better than some.”

  “And the others?”

  Eli’s pale green eyes were haunted, his expression filled with pain. “We were talking, thinking we could bring our problems before Gabriel and hopefully have them resolved without too much damage to our individual cells, but some of the cell leaders found out and cut us off from communication with anyone outside our cells. Essentially, we became prisoners.”

  “Fuck.” Dante stared at Eli, horrified.

  “When Gabriel called and demanded my presence, my cell leader panicked. He sent me out on a mission with only one other member of my cell, a young woman of only seventeen.” Eli shuddered. “She was among the first to die.”

  “The first of who?” Seth kept his tone carefully neutral, but Sam was afraid he would burst into flames at any moment, even if that wasn’t his power.

  “The first of the Nephilim the Shem captured.” Eli shuddered. “They put us in those cages. Some of us were tortured, others simply taken away, never to be seen again.”

  Rafe was shivering, his expression horrified. Abby put her hand on his and he sent her a grateful smile.

  “I saw what happened to them, the ones that disappeared. Or at least I think I did.” Eli’s gaze remained on Gabriel’s face the entire time he spoke, as if only Gabriel made him feel safe.

  “Go on,” Gabriel encouraged, his hand tightening on Eli’s.

  “Blood. At first it was all there was.” Eli’s voice was filled with pain. “Then the visions became a little clearer, a little sharper. Some of us were laid out on tables, tubes coming from arms and legs, blood being siphoned off into waiting bags. Most of them were in horrible pain, burned or slashed, bones broken and left untended. Gangrene had set in on some of them, and the Shem ate their pain up.”

  “Why are they taking our blood?” Sasha looked like he could barely believe what he was hearing, but it was hard to dismiss the pain in Eli’s voice. “To feed?”

  “To bind us, chain us down, cause us pain.” Something in the way he spoke, the eerie calm that came over him, had Sam paying special attention. Was he having one of his visions? She stared at him, only then noticing what appeared to be light shining through the green of his irises, dancing and swirling. It reminded her of pictures she’d seen of the aurora borealis. “Feed us, fuel us, turn us to them. Make us one again.”

  “What?” Rafe gagged. “Are you saying they put Nephilim blood in my food?”

  Eli nodded, still frighteningly calm. His eyes were eerie, his expression serene even as he spoke words of horror.

  Rafe heaved and ran from the table. Sam could vaguely hear him losing it in the kitchen, the sound of retching making her nauseous.

  “Why did they place Rafael away from the others?” Gio kept his tone even, but he too seemed furious.

  Eli’s gaze turned to Gio. “To turn him. Feed him, torture him, make him bend. Then he will join us, heal us.”

  “Shit. That’s why they wanted Rafe so badly. They don’t have their own Azar, so they tried to steal ours.” Zeke’s hands were clenched on the table. “How the hell did Rafe not turn?”

  “He is strong. He believes. The pain strengthened his resolve to die unturned.” Gabriel nodded to Micah, who stood and followed Rafe into the kitchen.

  “The blood has power, but the power bleeds until it too is dead. Dead power, dead blood, and none of them understood.” Eli closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again they were once more pale green. “They coated the cages, the chains, and the padlocks with our blood, making them immune to our powers and, in some cases, painful to the touch. We couldn’t get out. Only a Malachi on the outside of the cages could have done it.” Eli nodded to Damien. “But now they’re aware of that little weakness and will try to figure out a way around it.”

  “We have to find out if other Shem have been informed of how to cage us. If they were, we’re fucked.” Damien looked at her with a hopeful expression. “Was there anything that we might have overlooked in the files we found?”

  Sam shook her head. She hated to disappoint him. “No, nothing that indicated anything like this.”

  “There is an equally important question we must ask ourselves,” Piotr interjected thoughtfully. “Where are they bleeding us?” Piotr’s gaze landed on Eli. “You said tables, tubes, and blood being siphoned off. A hospice?”

  “Good thinking.” Zeke praised Piotr, slapping the man on the shoulder, much to Piotr’s obvious surprise. “Where else can you bleed someone?”

  “Blood bank,” Dante muttered, taking out his notebook and scribbling furiously.

  “Hospital, possibly the morgue.” Beth frowned, tapping her fingers on the table.

  “Mortuary,” Gio added.

  Sam shuddered. “That’s something a Shem might own if he feeds on grief.”

  “No,” Eli said. “Wherever it is, it felt…personal.”

  “Personal as in, you’ve been there before, spent time there or something?” Dante’s pencil was poised over his pad, awaiting Eli’s answer.

  “Not personal to me. To them.” Eli looked right at Dante. “Someplace they feel comfortable being in.”

  “Their home?” Sam got up, intending to go back to the security room and grab her tablet. “I can look that up. They might have something in their basement worth looking into.”

  “I can pull up the plans for their various homes, but I doubt they’d go far from here since their roots are here,” Seth added.

  “Other Armitages across the country are shipping captured Nephilim here.” Eli frowned. “I don’t think any other Shem are involved. The Armitages are rare in that they remain in contact with their family members and work as a group. Loyalty is everything to them.”

  “Shem mafia.” Sam bit her lip when everyone looked at her. “That’s what I called it when I was talking to Beth and Abby during shooting practice. I’m being chased by the Shem mafia.”

  “Mafia.” Sasha sat up straight. “Wait a minute. The mafia is known for certain things other than shooting each other, right? Drugs, gun running, protection rackets, undercutting other businesses.”

  “Businesses like Armitage Computing?” Sam sat back down. She could get the tablet later.

  “Or the Armitage sausage factory,” Beth whispered. “That has to be it. It all leads to Charles Armitage, right?” She pulled out her smart phone and began tapping furiously. “What is that building used for now?” Everyone waited while Beth looked it up. Soon a huge, triumphant grin crossed her face. “Bingo. It’s empty, not even for sale. I can’t be certain but… Let me look that up, too.” She did another bunch of taps at her phone.

  “I’m going to get something to drink,” Sam whispered to Damien.

  “Get me some water, please?” He smiled at her before turning his attention once more to Beth.

  Sam got up and headed for the kitchen, trying to ignore Rafe and Micah as she got two glasses of water. They were at the kitchen table, talking quietly, and she didn’t want to interrupt them. She added ice to hers before heading back into the dining room.

  “And it looks like Armitage Holdings still has the deed to the building,” Beth was saying. She was up and pacing back and forth under the watchful eyes of the Nephilim. “Setting up the rooms for bleeding their victims dry wouldn’t be that difficult. Move the stuff in at night, keep the prisoners quiet through either drugs or keep them in the basement. The place has windows only on
the third floor. The rest is brick, probably so passers-by didn’t see exactly how sausage was made.”

  “If we’re going to raid this place, we have to do it in force,” Gio added. “All of us in, all of us out. Capisce?”

  “Abby and I can man the security systems again, if they have any.” Sam wasn’t going anywhere near the murder meat plant. “If they don’t have one, we can set something up ahead of time.”

  “No. If there’s no security system we’ll have to go in blind.” Damien took his water and placed it on the table in front of him. “We won’t have time to set anything up. They could be moving people as we speak.”

  “Not during the daytime, they won’t. Too many questions, and we took their Angelus. Unless they have another one, they’re going to have to work at night.”

  “Or burn the building down, or demolish it somehow.” Beth tapped her nails on the table. “Is it worth it to wait until night ourselves, or should we just go in now, while they’re not suspecting anything?”

  “Are we certain they’re at the sausage factory? I mean, it makes a twisted sort of sense, but we could be wrong.” Zeke’s brows were furrowed. “I wish we could make sure before we head in.”

  “I’m sure,” Eli replied, his voice low and haunted. “The more you speak, the clearer the visions are becoming. They’re in the meat packing plant, definitely.”

  “Then get some rest, because we’re going in before nightfall,” Gabriel ordered. He stood and held his hand out to Eli. “If you wish, I can give you the room next to Seth and Abby.”

  “Please, I’d like that.” Eli smiled freely for the first time since Sam had met him. “I’d like to get acquainted with my niece.”

  “She’d like to meet you, too,” Abby replied.

  Now everyone was standing, some heading right for the staircase, others for the kitchen and food before they collapsed into sleep.

  Damien grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled her toward the stairway. “Let’s get some rest. It’s going to be a very long day.”

  “I hope we’re right, that Eli’s right, for everyone’s sake.” Sam yawned. “Otherwise, the Armitages will go underground and it will be hell digging them back out.”

  “Mm-hm.” Damien opened the door and dragged her right to the bed. “Sleep, Sam. You did good.”

  “Yes, I did.” She yawned again and flopped onto the bed, sinking into it with a sigh. She was more tired than she’d thought, because she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. “Set the alarm before you fall asleep, ’kay?”

  His answer was muffled, but it didn’t matter. Sam was already asleep.

  Chapter 28

  Damien checked his earpiece. They’d decided to use them again, all of them linked so they could coordinate better. There were quiet murmurs from his brethren as they checked the areas around the building for any sign of Shem activity. The Shem stench emanated from the building, practically obscuring it to his enhanced sight.

  “Are we sure this is the place?” Gio sounded uncertain. “I’m not scenting the Shem.”

  “Neither am I,” Zeke replied quietly, “but Eli said this was it. I’m gonna believe him.”

  “The stench is there,” Damien relayed quickly. “I can see it.”

  “So can I,” Micah surprised him. “Trust me, they’re in there.”

  Gio, Sasha, and Rafe were at the back of the building, ready to storm through the ancient loading bays where Charles Armitage used to feed the homeless before making them into his meals. Rafe, despite his wounds, had insisted on coming in case any of his brothers needed healing, and Gabriel had given in, unable to resist Rafe’s pleas.

  Micah was leading the team coming in from the roof, as he was the only other member of their cell, other than Seth and Gabriel, who could fly. Between Micah and Seth, they’d be able to hoist Zeke to the roof as well. The Legionnaire would have no trouble dealing with anything they couldn’t. He’d most likely be the one to break through the old skylights, allowing Seth and Micah to swoop into the interior.

  Watching Micah and Seth unfurl their wings was something to be envied. Micah’s wings were darker than Seth’s, more sapphire than turquoise, but still beautiful and full of light. The two took off, their light fading as they went invisible. They carried Zeke between them, their powers extending to him, turning him invisible as well.

  Seth had once told him, “Imagine lifting a sofa with your pinky. That’s what it’s like when you try and bend light around another person to make them invisible.” Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too tired to deal with the Shem inside the building. At least Seth got to share the burden with Micah this time.

  Since this left Piotr without his partner and Damien’s team short a member, they’d claimed Piotr. Damien had made sure to equip Piotr with holy-water-quenched bullets, while Piotr had given both of them lightweight bulletproof vests, among other things. It was nice to have a billionaire equipping him for once. Damien made good money, but nothing near what Piotr did.

  Dante nodded to him, so Damien gave the ready signal. “All set at the front door.”

  Gio spoke up. “All set at the back.”

  Next, Micah spoke. “All set on the roof. It’s a go.”

  Damien crouched down and raced for the front door, his gaze following the line of windows on the third floor. If anything were to fire at them it would be from there.

  He made it to the front door without incident. Piotr was right behind him, with Dante bringing up the rear. “In position now.”

  “Ditto,” Gio replied.

  “Crash and burn,” Micah replied.

  Above them, Zeke smashed the skylights out, the screech of tortured metal almost as loud as the fall of broken glass. He prayed none of the Neph were under those panes. If they were, the consequences could be fatal.

  Dante mule-kicked the door until it gave way. He wasn’t as strong as his brother Gio, but that didn’t matter when you had police training to back you up. He’d been trained on how to kick the door down with no damage to himself.

  Damien took point, his gun out of its holster. He pulled the silencer out of his pocket and twisted it in place. The sun was still in the sky and there was a slim chance that someone would be in the desolate neighborhood. They were taking a huge risk that the police would be called in, but it couldn’t be helped.

  There were rows upon rows of tables, each one with an ancient meat grinder attached. Rusted chains hung from immovable pulleys set high, almost to the ceiling. Along one wall were two rods, one just above head height and the other almost to the height of the pulleys. Hooks hung from both rods, placed at seemingly random intervals. Along the opposite wall were tables filled with jars, their labels long since faded away, covered in the dust and grime of nearly a hundred years. The back wall held a wooden door.

  Dante came through the door second, followed by Piotr. “We’re in,” Dante said, closing the door behind him. It could no longer latch, but it should keep the curious at bay.

  “Ditto,” Seth replied.

  “Jesus, this place is wrecked,” Gio added.

  Damien clicked the headlamp on, another gift from Piotr. It left his hands free for firing while keeping the light to a minimum, just enough to see by. He saw the light of the others’ lamps come on. “There’s nothing here, not visibly, other than tables, meat hooks, and a door at the other end.”

  “Look for a secret passage, maybe something on the floor. See if there are any scratches in the wood, like one of the tables is periodically moved, or any other disturbances in the dust that would indicate someone had been there.” Piotr pointed toward the table with the jars. “I will start there.” Piotr would know all about secret passages, since he’d had one built into every one of the homes he owned. He was probably the best one to look for them.

  “This floor seems to be offices,” Micah whispered as Damien moved toward the meat hooks. “We’re inspecting up here for secret passages as well.”

  “This back area is filled with shelving, and I
think a couple of ancient freezers,” Gio added. “Checking them out now.”

  “Make sure you don’t let yourself get locked into one of those freezers, man. We’ll find a Gio popsicle next year,” Sasha laughed quietly.

  “Asshole.”

  “Gentlemen, minds on the task, please.” Micah’s scolding tone wasn’t nearly as effective as Gabriel’s, but it worked. It got them moving, at least. He could still hear Sasha and Gio muttering to one another, but it was easy to tune them out.

  Damien began moving the meat hooks. He’d seen something like this in a movie. It made sense that one of them could be a lever of some sorts, unlocking something or opening a door somewhere.

  “Found something,” Piotr murmured.

  Damien left the hooks and joined both Piotr and Dante at the table. “What is it?”

  Piotr turned one of the bottles slightly to the left and Damien heard a faint click. “That was too close to be a door, da?”

  “A drawer, maybe, or a secret compartment in the table?” Damien began searching where he was standing. “Did any of the other bottles cause anything to happen?”

  “Nyet. Just this one.” Piotr was also searching the table.

  “You two have this. I’m going back to the meat grinders.” Dante left, stepping carefully around them.

  Damien continued to search, but he couldn’t seem to find anything. “Maybe it’s on a timer?”

  Piotr shook his head, a triumphant smile on his face. “I found it.” He pulled open a tiny drawer hidden in the apron of the table. Inside was a large, rusted key.

  Damien picked it up. “Wonder what this goes to?”

  “I’d say the secret door I just found.” Dante was standing over a bit of flooring that looked no different from the others. Damien had stepped right over it to get to Piotr, in fact. “Bring that key here.”

  “How the hell did you find that?” Damien stared at the spot, wondering where the secret was.

  Dante grimaced. “I can smell death through the gaps between planks, and I can only smell it here.”

  Damien did as instructed, bringing Dante the key, Piotr right on his heels. “Where is it?” Damien peered down, wondering just what Dante had seen that he couldn’t.