The Nephilim_An Urban Fantasy Romance

by Elise Marion

  Still resting on her knees, Addison took a moment to compose herself—closing her eyes and tilting her head back, taking a few deep breaths.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Lilith’s scroll lying on the ground in front of her, engraved with the spell that allowed her to open unauthorized portals into Hell. Picking it up, she called on hellfire again, using it to incinerate the paper until it floated away in bits of ash. Without it, all of Lilith’s unauthorized portals would close, meaning she and her minions would never set foot on Earth again.

  The voice of Lucifer came to her from above, drawing her attention to the balcony where he sat with his princes.

  “Well done, my niece,” he crooned. “You have defeated Lilith, as I knew you would.”

  “You said I could go home when I’d beat her,” Addison reminded him. “So did she.”

  “I am a man of my word,” he replied, rising from his throne to walk to the edge of the balcony.

  Extending one hand toward her, he seemed to call on her with his power. Addison found herself immobilized, arms trapped at her sides, legs useless as she began to float up toward him. Weakness had sapped her strength, and she couldn’t have fought against this if she tried. Lucifer paused with his hand extended, palm out toward her, his dark, fathomless gaze meeting hers.

  “As promised, I will now send you back to the realm of men … with a gift I wish to bestow you. It is yours until such time as Eligos is defeated. Make me proud, niece.”

  “I am not your family,” Addison snapped. “And I will never fight for the cause of Hell.”

  Lucifer’s mouth curved into a smirk, and he arched one eyebrow at her. “What do you think you’ll be doing by uniting an army of Nephilim to fight against your father? Whether you like it or not, you and The Guardians will fight for the cause of Hell … ensuring that my place does not become usurped. Godspeed, Addison Monroe … we will meet again, I can assure you.”

  Before she could reply, a gaping, black hole yawned in front of her, and a blast of cool air slapped her in the face. Some unseen force sucked her into the portal and, she assumed, out of Hell.

  But she did not arrive back in front of her mother’s trailer as expected. Instead, she was falling again—through the sky this time. White stars twinkled around her, many of them breaking free of their places in the heavens to shoot alongside her in trails of sparkling light.

  Then, heat flared beneath the surface of her skin, sudden and swift. Her lips parted on a silent scream of agony as it flared at her back, seeming to shoot straight out of her shoulder blades in a rush. Flames … she could feel them licking at her skin. Or, perhaps from her skin … she couldn’t be sure.

  The hellfire didn’t burn her, yet scored her insides raw, as if something within was being purged to make room for something else. The agony continued, even as she hurtled downward, the ground now visible beneath her. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, despite being unable to halt her downward momentum.

  She struck the ground with a force that shook the earth as clumps of soil flew up around her, carried by the current of wind her fall had created. The burning ceased, leaving her skin feeling as if it had been sloughed off. Lying on her stomach, she raised her head, the world tilting and shifting dizzily around her as her vision began to swim. Raising her injured arm, she glanced at it and found it now healed, the skin pink and healthy as if she’d just taken a hot bath and scrubbed herself clean. The charred remnants of her clothes lay here and there, a few pieces of fabric still burning, leaving her naked as the day she’d been born.

  She shivered, her entire body wracked with tremors as she curled inward on herself, grasping her knees against her chest and holding tight.

  She couldn’t fight the drowsiness that forced her head to remain on the ground. Her eyelids began to droop, and she allowed it. After all, she had just fought her way out of Hell, and deserved a moment of rest … didn’t she?

  Just before her eyes closed, a black shape drifted down to land in front of her. Reaching out to grasp it, she found a sleek, black feather. Taking it between her fingers, she rubbed it, awed at its silky texture. All around her, more of them drifted toward the ground like snowflakes. Clutching the feather, she finally closed her eyes and allowed oblivion to claim her.

  Chapter Nine: The Purge

  Jack snatched his hoodie off over his head before accepting a hunk of chalk from Reniel, who stood by watching while he and Micah prepared the dark room for an exorcism. He’d arrived within minutes of receiving their call, bringing with him all the tools they would need to complete the ritual. However, as an angel, he was barred from assisting them—which meant Jack and Micah were on their own. It had been years since he’d attempted an exorcism, and the last time, he’d had his father—who was far more experienced in these matters—along for the ride.

  His hands shook as he scraped the chalk against the concrete floor, crouching and crawling back and forth until he’d drawn the Star of David large enough to enclose him. Then, while Micah walked the perimeter of the room, spilling lines of salt from corner to corner, Jack quickly scrawled the symbol of the Guardians at each point of the star.

  Coming to the doorway, Micah doubled back, ensuring that the only way in and out of the room had been protected from evil spirits wishing to come or go.

  Turning to Harley and Drew, Micah dropped the now empty canister into the box of items Reniel had brought. “You’re gonna have to get outta here. Pronto.”

  Harley scowled, glaring at first Micah, then Reniel. Finally, her narrow gaze came to rest on Jack as he rose to his feet, dusting his hands free of the chalk residue.

  “Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

  Jack inclined his head. “This is an involuntary possession, which means your friend didn’t ask for this, and the demon inside of him doesn’t care about consent. Anyone in this room vulnerable to possession could be overcome the second he’s free.”

  Huffing in annoyance, she pushed a few stray strands of hair back from her face. “And being half-demon Naphils makes me and Drew especially vulnerable, right?”

  Micah nodded. “Exactly. We’re gonna help your guy … but you can’t be in here. You gotta trust us.”

  She glanced back at Jack. “If anything happens to him—”

  “It won’t,” he insisted. “We know what we’re doing.”

  “Come now,” Reniel said, his tone gentle but firm. “The longer we wait, the harder it will be to fix this. You can wait outside.”

  Casting one last look over her shoulder at the man growling and jerking against the shackles binding him to the wall, Harley slipped through the open door.

  “His name is Jameson … we call him James,” she whispered just before disappearing from view.

  Closing the door behind her, Reniel leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Remember, I am here to prompt you in case you forget anything,” he said. “Nothing more. You two have been Guardians long enough to be able to handle this on your own. I trust you.”

  Forcing himself to swallow past the nausea burning in his throat, Jack nodded, crossing the room to the box. He dug around inside before coming out with an iron keyring. Instead of keys, the ring held a variety of talismans—the various crests of Hell’s most powerful demons. To determine how best to weaken the demon, they needed to figure out whose servant they might be. Deeper in the box lay a slim black pocket journal, which he retrieved and slid into his back pocket. Lastly, he removed a small vial dangling from a gold chain and looped it around his neck. The crystal-clear holy water inside of it would come in handy.

  Approaching the center of the room, he stood, waiting for Micah to release James from his shackles. He idly reached up to touch the symbol branded into his chest—the mark of the Guardians, which would protect him from becoming possessed himself.

  “Ready, podna?” Micah asked, taking hold of the thick chain running through loops in the posses
sed man’s shackles and bolting him to the wall.

  It surprised him to hear that his partner sounded as anxious about this as he did, though he supposed it shouldn’t. This was new territory for them both.

  “Ready,” he replied.

  With a grunt, Micah gave the chains a tug. While it didn’t appear he’d had to exert very much strength, the chains snapped as if they’d been made of string, coiling on the ground with a resounding clang.

  Once free, James wasted no time attacking. Lunging toward Micah with arms outstretched, he lumbered forward, a vicious snarl unfurling from deep in his chest. Standing his ground, Micah slammed an open palm into the guy’s throat, snatching him up by the neck. Turning, he carried James clear across the room and body-slammed him straight onto the center of Jack’s chalk-drawn star.

  The man’s mouth opened wider than it should have been able to, drawing back so far, the corners touched his ears. An unearthly screech emitted from the depths of the gaping mouth, and an unseen force slammed into Jack like a tidal wave, throwing him back a few feet. He skidded across the hard floor as he fought to keep his balance, moving back to where the man lay, trapped by Micah’s strong hold on his arms. Despite Micah’s strength, he seemed to be struggling to keep James in place.

  “Someone’s been eatin’ his Wheaties,” Micah grunted, sweat breaking out over his brow.

  Pulling the stopper out of the vial dangling around his neck, Jack flung a healthy splash of the holy water into the man’s face. His back arched up off the floor, and he thrashed, jerking his head from side to side as the surface of his skin began to sizzle, burning the water away into white smoke,

  “You’re going to need more than holy water to weaken me, Light Bearer,” he rasped, his voice low and heavy, rattling around in his chest as if his lungs were full of nails.

  Jack highly doubted they were hearing James’ true speaking voice. Standing over the demon, he gave him another dose of the holy water, contented with the results when it caused him to stop squirming in Micah’s hold. Legs spread on either side of the prostrate man, Jack held up the key ring and began with the first talisman—the emblem of Lilith, Mother of Legions.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, despite knowing the creature would never be stupid enough to reveal his name without some coercion.

  A demon’s name, or the name of his master, were powerful tools that could be used against them. No son of Lucifer would reveal them on their own.

  He held up the first talisman, but felt no pull toward the demon, so he continued on to the next.

  “The longer you make me wait, the more pissed off I’m going to be when I find out who you are,” Jack murmured, switching talismans again. “Not a servant of Lilith or Mammon … I’ll figure it out. I have nowhere else to be.”

  “Lilith … bah!” the demon spat, a black stream of spittle staining the ground beside him. “No self-respecting demon would follow that glorified baby incubator.”

  Arching an eyebrow, Jack smirked. “Misogyny. An old-school demon … that narrows the field considerably.”

  The demon hissed in response, jerking against Micah’s hold. Driving a fist into his face, Micah stunned the demon within, then went back to keeping him pinned to the floor. Flipping past a handful of the talismans, Jack concentrated on the most ancient ones.

  “Leviathan,” he murmured, holding up the symbol for the Demon of Envy. “Nope. Hmm, Asmodeus, Demon of Lust … nah. That would have been fun, though.”

  This time, when he held up the next symbol, the metal began to vibrate in his hands, bending away from him and toward the prone man stretched out beneath him, almost as if attracted by a magnetic pull.

  “Bael, Duke of the Infernal Powers,” he laughed. “Not Bael himself, but definitely a servant.”

  “One of the big dogs,” Micah added. “Shoulda known by how strong this thing is.”

  James grinned, showcasing his stained teeth again, unable to resist the way Micah’s words fed into his vanity. No demon could resist a compliment.

  “One of the most powerful of them all,” he replied. “You don’t have what it takes to bring me down.”

  Tossing the keyring aside, Jack retrieved the small journal from his back pocket and flipped through the pages until finding what he needed. “You’re an ancient … that means the old ways will do well enough. Last chance … give me your name. It’ll go easier for you if you do.”

  His eyes flamed red as he glowered at Jack. Through the skin of his bare torso, lumps that looked like slithering snakes undulated, pressing upward as if trying to escape through his stomach. Black veins pulsed in his neck, climbing up toward his face. The invisible force of his power shook the room, while a gust of wind tore the vial of holy water off its chain before Jack could save it. It shattered against the wall, the remnants dripping down the wall toward the floor.

  This time, when the demon spoke, its voice echoed from the walls and ceiling, resounding in an ominous echo that sent chills down Jack’s spine.

  “Ooooouur name is Leeeeegion,” he growled, drawing out the words in a chilling whisper. “For we are maaaanyyyy!”

  “Holy shit,” Micah gasped, staring down at what now appeared to be faces pressing against the inside of James’ belly, contorting into expressions of despair and rage, their screams muffled by layers of skin and muscle.

  It wasn’t just a possession—this was an infestation. Bael hadn’t just possessed James; he’d brought an entire squad of his minions with him.

  “Hang on, Micah,” Jack warned, before fixing his eyes onto Reniel’s neat handwriting along the white pages. Executing the sign of the cross, he began reading. “Caeli Deus, Deus terrae, Humiliter majestati gloriae…”

  The demons within began to screech while James started struggling against Micah as Jack read the Latin intonation proven to dispel the ancient demons.

  The walls began shuddering again, the ground beneath him rippling like waves of water. Thrown off his feet, he kept his grip on the book, while Micah wrestled and rolled with the demon across the floor.

  “Micah!” he called out, struggling to his feet and rushing forward to help his partner.

  “No!” Micah roared, grasping James by the arms and shoving him against the wall. “I got this! You keep readin’!”

  Keeping them within his peripheral vision, Jack continued reading as fast as he dared, ensuring he pronounced every word perfectly.

  “...tuae supplicamus Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate …”

  A weight bore down on his shoulders, pressing him to the ground as if intent on crushing him. Dropping to one knee, he continued reading, beads of sweat trickling from his temples.

  “…Laqueo, et deception nequitia, Omnis fallaciae libera nos, dominates…”

  James threw Micah off him, sending him flying across the room. He slammed into the wall so hard, his body left a crack in the concrete as he slumped to the floor. Before James could attack him, Micah was back on his feet, catching him in the center of his chest with a well-timed kick. Tackling James, Micah threw him back down in the center of the star.

  “…exorcizamus vos omnis immundus spiritus Omnis satanica potestas …”

  Micah shoved one hand down into his pocket and retrieved what appeared to be a necklace. As he wrapped the chain around his knuckles, Jack noticed a golden cross pendant dangling from it.

  As he continued reading from the journal, flipping the page to find more of the long intonation scrawled out, Micah drew his fist back and delivered a bone-crushing blow to James’ face. The demon screeched, rage rippling out from him in tangible waves of power that threw Jack back against the nearest wall. Still, Micah persisted, weakening the demon with the cross blow after blow.

  “Die already, damn it!” Micah bellowed.

  “There are more where we come from,” James growled between shallow, ragged breaths. “Uproot us, and hundreds more will follow.”

  “…Ut inimicos sancttae circulae humiliare digneris, Te rogam
us…” Jack continued to read, craning his neck to see the words on the pages, despite being pinned to the wall by a force he could not see.

  “Yeah?” Micah taunted, one fist hovering in midair, stained with the black blood of a demon. “When your little buddies come, you send ’em straight to me and my podna. I’ll give ’em a little taste of this right here.”

  Another blow, this time to the gut, stirred the demons squirming for freedom in James’ belly. A hand reached up from within, stretching the skin almost to its limits. Micah slapped an open palm over it, crushing it back down.

  “Come on, podna, I can’t hold him much longer!” he bellowed. “He’s ’bout to blow!”

  “Benedictus Deus, Gloria Patri, Benedictus Dea, Matria Gloria!” Jack finished in a rush.

  Micah came hurtling toward him across the room, thrown back by the force of James’ scream as the demons began spilling through his open mouth in a black, cloudy mass.

  Knocked off his feet by Micah’s heavy body colliding with his, Jack sat with his back against the wall and watched as the demons swarmed the room, crawling up the walls to the ceiling—though they gave Reniel a wide berth.

  “Ready to hit ’em with the light, podna?” Micah rasped, sitting up and running a hand through his damp hair. He looked exhausted, but that familiar, feral light had crept into his eyes—the look he always wore when in the thick of a fight. There was nothing his partner liked more than going toe to toe with demons.

  Rising and offering Micah a hand up, Jack grinned. “Always.”

  Hauling Micah to his feet, he walked to the center of the room. They turned back to back as the demons began to swarm them, dropping to the ground and circling them while glaring with beady, red eyes. The scrape of their claws against the floor grated like nails against a chalkboard, while hisses and snarls filled the room in a concert of haunting sound.

  “Three,” Micah counted down. “Two … one!”

  Jack closed his eyes and pulled on the inner light, which was never too far below the surface of his skin. The warmth of it spread from the mark on his chest, before exploding outward. As an afterthought, he threw up his force field, surrounding himself in a circle of the light just before the demons disintegrated, exploding in a shower of black blood and body parts. The black goop splattered his circle but didn’t touch him, thankfully. The stench of sulfur permeated the room as the black stains began to emit smoke before burning away completely.