Transgression

by Brandy C. Ange

  “He asked you to watch me? Do all Nephilim call Satan, Luc?”

  “God has a special interest in keeping you safe. We were the best for the job, since we could blend into the human school.”

  Achaia nodded. “So you’re my body guard?”

  Emile laughed. “Something like that, yes. And as for Lucifer; most Nephilim have known him forever, literally. The rest of us,” Emile’s eyes went dark, “I will not honor him with a title. The most disrespectful thing you can do as a Nephilim is dishonor someone’s name. To refer to him as Luc, is a dishonor, a slap in the face. Every time we say it. Nick names, and pet names are only for those you are closest to, with Nephilim. It’s an intimate thing for us.”

  Speaking of disrespectful, Achaia thought, “is Noland your leader?”

  The waiter arrived with a pizza, and placed it on the table between them. Achaia cut a slice and pulled it onto her plate.

  “Yes. Nephilim are ranked according to birthright.” Emile explained as he cut his slice. “Nephilim don’t reproduce often. In fact it’s only happened a few times since they were exiled here. Every few centuries the human population grows beyond our reach. In order to fulfill our purpose in protecting them, we will grow with the population. From each generation, the first born is a leader. Noland was the first born.”

  Achaia nodded. “So,” she swallowed, not knowing if she should ask her next question. She thought about keeping it to herself but curiosity won out. “Noland’s parents—died.”

  Emile nodded, looking grave.

  “Nephilim can die? How do angels die?”

  “There’s a lot we don’t know about that, actually. You see, until Noland’s parents, we didn’t even know we could die.”

  Achaia swallowed hard. At least as a human you expected your parents to die at some point. She couldn’t imagine being under the impression that there was no death for you, for your parents, and to have them taken from you.

  “We aren’t like humans. We weren’t offered salvation. We didn’t think we needed it. We have no certainty, no idea what happens to us, should we— perish.” Emile looked down at his pizza. He seemed to have to force himself to eat.

  “Have any others—”

  Emile shook his head. “Noland’s parents are the only ones to have ever been killed.”

  Achaia couldn’t even begin to try to process how that must feel. “Is that why he is so…”

  “Controlling?” Emile finished. He had chosen a nicer word than what she would have.

  Achaia nodded.

  “Noland thinks that if he is strong enough, calculated enough, he can save everyone. That if he is prepared, no one else has to die.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure.” Achaia noticed.

  “He has a very strong sense of responsibility.” Emile acknowledged. “Humans have free will, we have mandates. Noland doesn’t have an option. We don’t have the luxury of failure. If we fail, someone stays possessed, oppressed, or worse—”

  Achaia swallowed hard, losing her appetite. “That’s—”

  “A lot to live up to?” Emile raised his eyebrows. “That’s why we have gifts. God equips us to be able to live up to those expectations.”

  “Real life super heroes?” Achaia smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

  Emile laughed and nodded. “Something like that.”

  Trying to keep things light, Achaia decided to go back to another subject. “So you said that the different breeds of Angels sometimes mix—”

  “Not often. Only under special circumstances.”

  Achaia felt her face crinkle in confusion. “Why?”

  The waiter returned and Emile paid for the pizza. They left the restaurant and took off down the street toward the hotel.

  “You’ve probably heard people say God has a plan?”

  Achaia nodded, mostly old women, but she supposed they still counted as people.

  “Well, it’s true.” They rounded the corner onto a more crowded street where people were headed home for a siesta. “He has a plan for literally everything. Now, that plan doesn’t always happen because He’s given us freedom of choice, and humans, free will. Humans have more of a say in the matter. But when it comes to us, his will is sometimes a bit more defined than it is for humans. Have you heard of soulmates?”

  “Oh my goodness, are you seriously going to tell me that you believe in that stuff?” Achaia searched his eyes with disbelief, finding no hint of irony.

  “I’m not telling you I believe it. I’m telling you it’s true. Everyone has one. Even humans. It’s just that humans have become so numerous that they rarely ever meet their soul-mate. It’s possible to live a perfectly happy life with someone else, but it will never reach the full potential of what God had in mind for them.

  “For Nephilim, though, it’s a little more, strict. Not that we mind… Our emotions are controlled by it. God has a Nephilim in mind for each Nephilim. His way to keep us pure, if you will. To keep from breeding out the angelic blood. Nephilim are the top ranking species in heaven. To interbreed with Seraphim or Cherubim would weaken our bloodline. And to breed with humans is very strictly forbidden.”

  “So I guess a half human, half Nephilim is pretty rare?” Achaia asked.

  “You’re the only hybrid.” Emile answered.

  Achaia swallowed. So not only did she not really understand what she was, but no one else really would either.

  Emile kept talking. “For us, love happens on God’s terms. When He thinks the time is right. You could spend your entire life with your soul-mate and never know. Or you could know and not feel anything towards them. Sometimes one knows before the other.” Emile paused, just looking into her eyes. “But the feelings never fully take hold of both people until God is ready for them to be together.” They reached the hotel door, he opened it for her and followed her in.

  Achaia could feel the blood rising in her cheeks and cursed herself for blushing. “So you could know you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone and still not have feelings for them yet?” she asked, turning to look at him before continuing up the stairs.

  Emile smiled and nodded. “Exactly.” He followed her up the staircase passing Olivier’s shrine with a smirk. “You’re catching on quick.”

  Achaia’s mind was racing. She looked Emile hard in his smiling face as they reached the top of the steps. She wouldn’t mind ‘soul mates’ being real if she ended up with someone like him. He had an angular face, and bright blue eyes, his black hair darting out from his white skin, he was beautiful. But she couldn’t help but think Emile would look better with someone darker.

  Achaia realized after a few minutes that she had been staring at him, and turned her eyes to her hands. She was twirling her fingers around in her long red hair. “I don’t know—it’s just a lot to take in. I think I’m in shock or something.” Achaia tried to grin as she continued walking down the hall to the room.

  “You are,” Emile said factually.

  Achaia’s eyes snapped up to his again.

  “I mean nobody goes through what you went through yesterday—processes as much information, and goes un-fazed. You’re in shock.” Emile smiled sweetly and unlocked the door. He turned to face her and reached down, putting his arms around her. It was a light hug but comforting as he rubbed her arm up and down and hummed in her ear. “I think you need sleep,” he said quietly after a few moments.

  Even though she hadn’t been tired at all while they were talking, the sweet melody of the tune he hummed had burdened her eyes. As she walked into the room, she was fighting to keep them open. Laying down on top of the covers, within seconds, she fell asleep.

  Shael was cold. Really cold. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want the realization of where he was to wash over him. He just wanted to pretend for a few more minutes that he was still in his apartment. Still in the place where he lived with his daughter. But he had to face reality eventually. Shael did open his eyes. He squinted them against the brig
ht white reflecting off the ice surrounding him.

  Head spinning, Shael slowly sat up. His head throbbed, and he raised a hand to the lump that had grown up on his temple.

  “Bastards.” Shael mumbled, pulling his fingers away. He looked around and realized he was in a room, not a cell. That was a surprise. Shael was laying on a hard bed of ice, it was covered in layers of furs, and blankets. There were numerous pillows stacked against the ice wall that acted as a headboard. Fur rugs were scattered across the floor, and the room was lit from the ice itself, and whatever light was in the room reflected from surface to surface. Wherever the light originated, Shael could not say.

  Shael stood and walked over to a bureau chiseled from the ice wall. The ice above it was clear and polished, his reflection in it stared back at him. He looked old and worn. He hardly recognized the weak man in the ice. His eyes were hollow and hopeless, his face was sunken and pallid. Shael pulled the vial of hyssop from his pocket, and rubbed the oil into his arm again, and his side.

  He walked over to the door to check if it was locked; it wasn’t. He opened it, and glanced outside. The hall beyond was empty. He could hear voices echoing down the corridor from somewhere beyond the curve in the ice. He shut the door, and hoped he would be left alone. He returned to the bed, and sat down, thinking about Achaia. He wondered how long he had been out, if Naphtali had gotten his message, if Achaia knew yet, that she was alone—

  No. She wasn’t alone, Shael told himself. Naphtali would look after her, Ira was like family. He hadn’t left his daughter alone. She would be taken care of. She would grow up, get married, and have a family. She would live her life. There would be sadness, but she would be free. She would make her own choices, chose her own path, and live. Really, truly, live. Shael’s sacrifice would not be for nothing. At least, Shael hoped…

  Achaia had been asleep for about an hour when the door creaked open quietly. “Shh.” She heard Yellaina whisper. “They’re asleep.”

  “Dude, wake up.” It was Noland’s voice that spoke softly now, waking Emile up from the bed next to hers.

  “What time is it?” Achaia asked drearily lifting her head from her pillow.

  “Time for bed,” Emile mumbled rising to his feet. He ran a hand over her hair as he walked passed to leave the room.

  “Amen,” Noland said following Emile as he left the room for their own.

  “It’s five in the afternoon,” Yellaina yawned.

  The door shut lightly behind the boys, but even so, the sound was startling to Achaia’s ears. “How was your day?” Yellaina asked gently, opening her bag to change into her night clothes.

  “Oh, it was good. Emile explained some more to me about Nephilim,” Achaia said getting out of bed realizing now she was still in her jeans. “I should probably change too.”

  “Yeah, it’d be more comfortable.” Achaia could hear the smile in Yellaina’s voice. Was she always sweet to everyone? “What did he explain to you?” she asked pulling out a pair of pajama pants with pink and green stripes.

  “Well,” Achaia started, unzipping her own bag. Both were having trouble locating different articles of clothing in the dim light, but neither of them wanted to turn on the lights. Achaia waited for a moment for her eyes to further adjust. She fumbled through all the shades of gray in her bag for her shorts. Why did she have so much gray? “He explained about the birth ranking system you have.” Achaia pulled out a gray t-shirt.

  “We have,” Yellaina corrected.

  “Right.” Achaia said, shaking her head. She had almost forgotten that she wasn’t just learning about them, but about her own history, her own people. “He told me about Noland’s parents.”

  “What?” Yellaina sounded shocked. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?” Achaia asked.

  “It’s just, that—it’s a really sensitive subject. Noland never talks about it.”

  “Noland had told me. Emile just explained about it being,” Achaia struggled for the right word, “uncommon?”

  “Noland told you?” Yellaina sounded even more surprised.

  “Yeah, I just asked Emile what had happened—”

  “I hope he was at least tactful about it. I can’t really imagine him not being. I’m sure he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t think you could handle it.” Yellaina took a deep breath. “The Nephilim don’t like it spoken of.”

  “Well, he was great.” Achaia said, finally finding her shorts. “Respectful. He didn’t give any details, just ya know—”

  Yellaina had changed into a black sports bra and a spaghetti strap, and was climbing into her bed. Achaia took her jeans off and threw them over the back of the desk chair.

  “Did he tell you about anything else to do with Nephilim?” Yellaina was sitting up against the backboard of her bed staring into the dark.

  Achaia slipped into her shorts. “Oh yeah, he told me about soulmates…” Achaia smiled a little as she said it. She could use some girl bonding time. It didn’t look like that was going to happen with Amelia, and boys were usually a good starting point.

  “Oh really?” Yellaina sounded more chipper as well. “What do you think of it? You know, not having a choice?”

  “Ya know, I thought it would be upsetting, but it’s actually kind of a relief to tell you the truth. Now I don’t really have to worry about boys.” Achaia smiled to herself.

  “Oh my gosh! I know, right?” Yellaina was all about boy talk apparently. Achaia laughed a little to herself at Yellaina’s enthusiasm.

  “So Emile said sometimes you know and don’t feel it yet. And sometimes one knows before the other?” Achaia laid into her bed and rolled onto her side propping her head against the backboard.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. Like me and Olivier. We know. But right now—we couldn’t care less.” Yellaina chuckled as she said it.

  Achaia tried to mask her surprise. She’d never even really seen the two of them talk to each other, or show any kind of favor at all.

  “Like right now, I think he’s a good looking guy, and he’s fun and all, but I don’t even like him. But one day I’m just going to wake up and be like, ‘Oh my goodness, marry me now!’” She laughed some more. Her laugh was soothing. It was nice to hear after the day Achaia had had. It felt good to wind down with a conversation that somewhat resembled normal.

  Achaia laughed too. “What does it feel like to know? Is it like a feeling, or are you really sure? Could you be wrong?”

  “It’s more of a knowing than a feeling. It’s not really emotional at all, not yet anyway. I kind of hope he gets there first,” she added giggling. “But no, there is no room for doubt. When you know… you know.”

  “What about Emile and the others?” Achaia asked.

  “Oh, as far as I know Emile and Noland don’t have anyone yet. But the guys kind of like to keep it to themselves. The only reason I know Olivier’s is ‘cause he’s mine. And as for Amelia, I don’t think she’ll ever have one. And if she does, I don’t think it will ever happen.”

  “Is she that anti-social?” Achaia let out without thinking first. “Oh, crap. I mean, she really doesn’t seem to be a people person.”

  Yellaina laughed and nodded understandingly. “She’s not. She doesn’t like to let people in. She’s got a lot of boundaries, but she has her reasons for them. She’s a great person, and she cares about people a lot. She just prefers to do it from a distance,” Yellaina said yawning.

  “Oh well, I guess that makes sense. I thought she hated me—Does she hate me?” Achaia asked laying down, feeling the conversation and herself dwindling.

  “She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t know you. She might not want to. But she will.”

  “So Nephilim never date?” Achaia asked.

  Yellaina yawned. “No need,” her voice trailed off.

  “Right—Goodnight.” Achaia whispered in the darkened direction of Yellaina’s bed.

  “Night.” She heard her voice respond from the darkness.
r />   6

  The Sins of the Father

  “Hold your head high

  And keep those fists down.”

  -Harper Lee,

  To Kill a Mocking Bird

  Achaia woke up early the next morning, feeling like she may have actually gotten too much sleep. She got up and dressed in the bathroom so as not to wake Yellaina, who laid still in her bed, breathing steadily.

  Achaia had just brushed her teeth and opened the door only to see Noland preparing to knock. “I beat you to it this time.” She said squeezing out of the room passed him, and closing the door quietly.

  Noland looked at her quizzically.

  “Waking me up,” Achaia said softly, nodding her head to the side casually.

  “Oh,” Noland said catching on. He hadn’t moved to let her pass, but still stood close to her.

  Achaia took a couple of steps back, noticing the lack of personal space between them. “I was going to see if they have breakfast.” She nodded toward the stairs behind her that led down to the lobby.

  “They do,” he said, gesturing with his hand for her to lead the way. “I actually need to talk to you.” He started as they began the descent down the stairs.

  Achaia sighed, and braced herself. Conversations that started off with that sentence never seemed to go well. She had the instant feeling of being in trouble that manifested in a knot in her stomach. “About what?”

  “I was given orders last night, by the council, to bring you in.” He said bluntly.