Nephilim the Awakening (Wrath of the Fallen Book 1)

by Elizabeth Blackthorne

  I laughed as his glower dropped into a sad puppy dog expression. “Sorry, mate, you’ve worked for the Concordia long enough to know that the forces of Heaven and Hell don’t take weekends off, therefore, neither can we.”

  Sam rolled his eyes as he slipped out of his jacket. “Inconsiderate bastards. At least humans have sick days and weekends.” He continued to strip, chucking his clothes onto the passenger seat of the van. I stared at him, raising my eyebrows when he looked back over at me. “What? I’ve gone through enough clothes this month having to shift fully clothed. These shirts aren’t cheap, and you know they don’t pay me enough. I mean, it’s not exactly the reason I was hoping to get naked tonight…” The jab hit home, and I turned around, taking off my helmet and leaving it on the saddle of my bike. The hot spike of jealousy I’d been feeling since I saw Faith in Sam’s arms at the club needled me again.

  “Yeah, well, good thing I caught you in time. Faith isn’t exactly the type of girl you just bang in an alleyway.” I pulled my gun out of the saddlebag and checked it over, more as a reason not to look at him.

  “Hey, it was her who dragged me out there, and I’m never one to refuse a lady. Plus, I wasn’t just planning on banging her in the alleyway. She’s a cute girl. Funny too. I was hoping to bang her over an extended period of time and in many different places.” My temper got the best of me, and I spun. He stood there grinning at me. “Thought so.”

  “What?”

  “You two haven’t just met before, have you?”

  “No, we’ve met.” I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to punch that grin off his cocky face.

  “Met and... .?”

  I turned back to face him, resisting the urge to snap. “And,” I confirmed.

  Sam looked surprised, and I didn’t blame him. It was well known that I didn’t even entertain the idea of dating humans. I mean, there had been times over the years when I’d succumbed to spending nights with them, but it was never long term. I’d seen others like me get sucked into relationships and then have to break it off because it became clear they weren’t aging like their partner, while others stayed and watched their loved ones wither and die before their eyes. Thanks, but no thanks.

  “That’s not like you. Was this recent?” Sam watched me closely.

  I shook my head, checking the safety on the gun, avoiding meeting his eyes. “No, about five years ago.”

  “Ah, okay then. So would it bother you if…”

  I tucked the gun into the waistband of my jeans at my lower back. “No, it doesn’t bother me if you date her. It wasn’t... we only dated for a few months.” I smiled grimly at the memory. “It was an assignment.”

  “An assignment? Faith was an assignment?” He stared at me.

  I took a breath. “Yeah, but if you see her again, I’d rather that didn’t become common knowledge. She hates me enough already.” I glanced over at him.

  “Why was Faith an assignment?” He wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “The Concordia wanted me to keep an eye on her, question her without her knowing. They thought she might have seen something she shouldn’t have. And at the time, I was working undercover, trying to infiltrate that incubus gang in the city. She was a suitable cover, helped me get into the clubs. They like a pretty face.”

  Sam shuddered.

  “They didn’t get near her,” I said firmly, addressing the concern I could see was running through his mind.

  “But you did, didn’t you? You fell for her.” It wasn’t a question, and I was getting annoyed. Besides, we had stuff to get on with.

  “Look, it started as a cover and it developed a bit, that’s all. You try dating her and not falling for her. But I warn you, she’s trouble.”

  “Oh, I hope so.” He grinned at me, but I didn’t rise to it.

  “Right, now that we’ve established where our dicks are at, maybe we could get on with what we came here to do?”

  “Yeah, course. Sorry. She’s just so—”

  “Hargreaves messaged me to say there was a substantial drain on magical energies less than an hour ago, and it was established that it happened near here,” I interrupted.

  “Right. A local coven maybe? Did any humans witness it?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. It could be a coven, but I doubt it. Anyway, that wasn’t the problem.”

  “So what’s the problem?” he asked.

  “This is Rose’s house.”

  “The theologist?” Sam looked confused, and I didn’t blame him.

  “That’s the one,” I replied.

  “But she isn’t exactly... I mean, she’s a witch and all, but she couldn’t raise that much power by herself.”

  I nodded. “Exactly. And as you might not have noticed while your mind was on other things, the windows are all blown out.”

  Sam glanced up at the house and whistled. “Whoa, yeah, major energy detonation. Okay, I guess I’ll go scout. Take these for me and howl if you need anything.” He threw something at me and slipped into the shadows.

  I stared down at the crumpled briefs in my hand. “Tosser.”

  Tucking them gingerly into my pocket, I started skirting around the house, looking for anything else that seemed odd before venturing inside. It didn’t take long. I rounded the corner and found myself in a small side garden. It might have been nice on a sunny day. There was a small lawn, surrounded by rose bushes, and a circular patio to one side with a fancy iron patio set for sipping gin and tonics. The glowing Circle of Solomon embedded in the lawn didn’t really fit the pretty picture though. I peered into the shadows then edged around the circle, careful not to touch the glowing lines, and closely studied the elaborate symbols to work out what had been summoned and by who. The circle was fading. Taking out my phone, I quickly took a snapshot to study later. Whatever had been summoned must have been returned. Circles were usually programmed to fade when the being had been returned to Sheol. A rustle in the bushes to my left had me reaching for my gun, but I relaxed as a huge wolf slunk from the shrubs. I waited a moment for him to shift back, chucking him his underwear once he did.

  “Well?”

  “Hellhounds,” Sam said, pulling his briefs up.

  “Nearby?” I questioned sharply, going for my gun again. He shook his head.

  “No, not close at the moment. I can’t sense them nearby, but they were here, and not too long ago.”

  I gestured to the circle. “That explains this then. It’s fading, so they must have been sent back already.”

  Sam raised one eyebrow. “You assume.”

  “Come on,” I scoffed. “No one is going to leave their name on a circle that summoned hellhounds and then let them roam wildly about. It would be like marching up to Concordia with their wrists out in front saying, ‘Arrest me, please!’”

  “Did you get a name?”

  I glanced back down at the circle, which had nearly disappeared, and opened my phone to look at the photo instead. “What the... The photo…”

  I passed the phone to Sam, who looked at the red blur and grinned. “Guess someone needs to take a photography course. There’s a great one for amateurs just up near Alnwick—”

  “I don’t need a photography course,” I retorted. “This was perfectly sharp when I took it. I think the circle has been cursed to conceal the creator.”

  Sam whistled. “Now that’s pretty advanced stuff.”

  “That’s what worries me. Come on, let’s check inside.” We walked back around the side of the house, heading for the front door, but then I heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel in the driveway. Grabbing Sam’s arm, I pulled him to a halt, though he’d likely heard it too. He inclined his head towards the corner of the house, and I nodded. Out of the two of us, he was definitely the quietest. I had a reputation for being rather clumsy on the ground, but I blamed my size. No one’s perfect. He inched forward a few metres, then crouched down and leaned slightly around the wall before snapping back quickly.

  “It’s Faith!”

&
nbsp; “What do you mean, it’s Faith? I swear, Sam, you’re becoming obsessed after one kiss. Never thought you’d be the pussy whipped type.”

  Sam glared at me. “Funny bugger. See for yourself.”

  I peered around the corner to see Faith leaning against her bike, pulling off the bandana she usually wore under her helmet when she was riding to keep her wild hair contained.

  “Why is she here?” Sam asked. “Do you reckon she followed us? Maybe she knew more than you thought.” He looked disappointed, which I found rather amusing.

  I chuckled quietly. “Don’t you find out girls’ names before taking them into dark alleys?” Sam stared at me, and I grinned. “Faith Matthews. She’s Rose’s daughter. But I don’t know what she’s doing here. They had a huge falling out six years ago, and I didn’t think they were on speaking terms.”

  Sam frowned. “I didn’t scent anything supernatural on her. I was convinced she was human. What is she?”

  I shrugged. “She’s definitely human. Every inch of her,” I added, just to dig a little.

  Sam appeared confused. “Even with her mother being a witch?”

  I peered back around the corner to see Faith disappearing into the house. “She’s adopted. We’d better wait a bit until she clears out. She might have just popped by to get something.”

  Sam eyed me wryly. “And you don’t think she’ll notice the blown-out windows? Ten quid says she’ll call the police. We need to go in and stop her or Hargreaves will have our asses.”

  I put my hand out to stop him from charging in. “Faith doesn’t trust the police. She won’t call them immediately.”

  Sam leaned against the wall next to me. “She doesn’t? Why not?”

  “When Faith was younger, maybe eleven or twelve, her dad died. Well, actually, he was brutally tortured and murdered by a group of demon anarchists searching for an antique weapon he had in his possession, but Faith didn’t know any of that. Rose was at a dig overseas, and Faith was at a sleepover the night it happened. She was told her dad interrupted a burglar who shot him. Anyway, she didn’t cope well and went off the rails. Drinking, smoking, acting up at school. She was arrested several times, even spent a bit of time at a Young Offenders Institution. So yeah, not a big fan of the boys in blue.”

  Sam’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into his hair. “No wonder she and her mum had a falling out. Rose isn’t exactly one for confrontations. Faith did all that? But she seemed so... normal.”

  I sighed. “She is now. But she was close to her dad, and his death just kind of tipped her off the edge, I guess. Rose had no idea what to do, and she was terrified Faith had seen something she shouldn’t because she kept having horrific nightmares. She sent her to counsellor after counsellor, and eventually to a psychiatric institution when she started self-harming. Faith hated her for it, and when she was finally released, she ran away. Rose begged her to come home, but she refused. They’ve barely talked since.” Sam stared at me in horror, and I felt bad for spilling Faith’s secrets to someone she clearly liked. “Look, she’s fine now. She was much better when I was dating her. She just won’t take any shit from anyone.”

  “Do you think she heard something? Found something out? When her dad was killed, I mean? That would really fuck a kid up you, you know?”

  “That’s what I was tasked to find out. Look, she only told me this stuff because... well, I got her very drunk a few times. And high. I’m not sure if she even remembers telling me. I put it all together from a few different conversations.” Sam glared at me, and I sighed. “Yes, I get it, I’m an arsehole. But it was either that or use magic, and I didn’t want to fuck with her head any more than it had been already. I didn’t think she’d seen anything, but she can’t remember that night at all. It’s blacked out in her memory, so who knows if she saw anything. The friend’s dad swore she was at theirs all night. And she never opened up to any of the counsellors.”

  “So if her and Rose don’t talk, why is she here tonight?” Sam hissed.

  “Well, I haven’t talked to her in five years. Maybe they’re on friendlier terms, I don’t know. Maybe Faith forgave her or something.”

  Sam opened his mouth to speak, then paused and sniffed the air. “I might do another lap. Something’s... off.”

  I looked around at the surrounding shadows. Sam was right. The night still seemed quiet. Very quiet, in fact. “Okay, you go. I’ll check inside. On the off chance you were right and she called the police, I’ll need to be quick.”

  “Don’t get caught.” Sam winked at me as he dropped to all fours and melted into the shadows. I slunk over to the dark kitchen window and hoisted myself up onto the ledge. The broken glass in the wooden frame sliced my hands, and I cursed out loud. I froze, hoping no one had heard me. I felt a slight buzz as the wounds in my hands closed up, and then I jumped down onto the tiled floor. The entire house was silent, and I wondered if she’d left.

  A slight tickle ran down my little finger, and I glanced at my hand. The wounds might have closed, but the blood was still on my skin. The last thing I needed was to have droplets of blood found by human police officers. The forensic tests would cause a proper flurry. Not wanting to make a sound that might give me away, I wiped my hands on my jeans rather than rinsing them in a sink. A sudden sound made me look up, my hand going to my gun. I moved towards the small door at the back of the kitchen. With my spare hand, I reached for the handle, but before I could touch it, the door flew open and something collided with my chest, knocking the breath out of my lungs and sending me staggering backwards. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around my attacker and squeezed tightly. The next thing I knew, the heel of their hand connected with my nose, and I actually heard the crack as my bone shattered and pain exploded across my face.

  “Fuck!”

  Chapter Three

  FAITH

  “Ugh, I don’t know how you eat that stuff every night, Faith.” Dan, one of the other bartenders, shuffled farther along the low stone wall we were all sitting on just so he could get away from me, and I grinned at him before taking another huge bite.

  “Dunno what you’re talking about. Jane’s doner kebab is the best part of my night. Don’t ruin it,” I replied, not bothering to finish my mouthful before I added, “Especially coming from someone who puts beans, cheese, and garlic sauce on his chips!”

  “Cheesy chips are the best thing ever invented. You are a total philistine.” The three other club staff members grunted in agreement.

  I shook my head, took another mouthful, and switched on my phone. I used to leave it on silent in the club, but it was an old phone and the battery was going, so I turned it off whenever I didn’t need it.

  Hmm... weird. Twelve missed calls. Don’t recognise the number.

  My mind went back to the hot guys in the cathedral, and I felt a frisson of excitement when I considered they might have somehow gotten hold of my phone number in some weird and wonderful technological way. Not sure why they’d call me twelve times though. A notification popped up, saying I had a voicemail. I clicked on it, turning away from the guys as they continued the debate on chips toppings.

  “Faith? Faith, sweetheart, it’s Mum... it’s... Rose. Look, I’m sorry to call, I know you don’t want... anyway, I haven’t got a lot of time. I’m going away tomorrow for a conference for a few days, but when I get back, can we talk? Meet somewhere? You can choose. I have... There’s something you need to know, and then you can leave again. Or not. Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just... be careful. Keep an eye out for... well, anything strange or off. Don’t go out on your own and don’t come to the house. Not until I call you. I know I sound crazy, and you’ll probably take no notice, but... please, Faith. I’ll call... I need to go, sorry... Faith... Faith!”

  The call ended, and the phone ran into its, “If you want to return the call…” ramble. With a sick feeling, I pressed two and listened to the message again.

  “Everything okay, Faith?” Dan leaned over, concern on
his face.

  “I... er... yes, fine. Just, my... mother left me a message, and it was a bit weird.” I stood up, wrapped up the last half of my kebab, and offered it around before sticking it in the nearest bin.

  “She okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. I might just call in on my way home though.” I waved at them as I headed off to where I’d left my gorgeous Heritage Softail. I ran my fingers over the Harley emblem, still as in love with my bike as I was when I finally saved up enough to buy her two years ago. I mean, she’d been second-hand, but still. She was all mine. Reaching into the pannier, I pulled out a soft bandana and wound it around my hair before sliding the helmet on. As she roared to life between my legs, I smiled at the thought of flying along the country roads, even if it did mean going home.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled my helmet off and looked up at the house I’d spent most of my life in. It stood dark and silent, as though no one was home. To be fair, it was three o’clock in the morning and Rose was probably asleep. She’d kill me for waking her. I was surprised the noise of the bike hadn’t done that already. Something just didn’t feel right.

  I opened my phone again, listening to the message one last time. The shadows seemed to grow around me as I heard my mum say my name at the end. It sounded desperate. Slipping my hand inside my leather jacket, I felt for the hunting knife in the concealed pocket, running my fingers over the hilt to reassure myself. I was well trained to protect myself. My mother insisted on years of martial arts classes and weapons training to keep me safe. I enjoyed them, preferring them to ballet or gymnastics, which was what most girls my age were doing, plus I didn’t feel scared of walking through the deserted streets on my way home as most girls did. My mother wasn’t trained to protect herself though. She was a full-on nerd who loved her books, her studies, travelling to digs in weird places, oh yes, and having her daughter locked up.

  I stared up at the large Victorian house, taking in the details I could see in the moonlight. I hadn’t been back here in six years, and it was rather dilapidated now and in need of some renovation. By the look of the wisteria and roses, it was clear my mother hadn’t replaced the gardener since the year I left when George had retired. I took a few steps forward then paused. Normally the security light would have come on by now, but the only light source was the quarter moon that hung just above the treeline. It glinted off of something on the porch steps and on the gravel paths next to the house—broken glass. My eyes flicked up. The windows were gone. Each frame stood empty, and as I got closer, I felt shards crack and shatter under my boots. I headed up the steps to the entrance. The stained glass that had formed roses in the door had also been shattered, crunching under my feet as I put my hand on the door handle.