Defiant Destiny
Damned by blood. Exalted by free will.
By Madison Cumbee
© 2014 Madison Cumbee
All Rights Reserved.
Summary: Uriel Gray is a Nephilim—a half human, half otherworldly being—who is struggling to not give in to the evil immortal father’s side of his being. Uriel is called to High Point, North Carolina to protect a young Nephilim who is unaware of her supernatural genes. There he meets sixteen-year-old Keira Fairchild, a mortal who’s trying to survive her last two years of high school while feeling trapped in her comfortable bubble. Behind her mother’s designer-clothed back, Keira eats Big Macs, doesn’t use coasters, reads gritty fantasy novels, and wishes she could just get out of the “high society” standards. As she goes about her junior year, Keira starts falling for Uriel and suddenly sees into a world that she didn’t know existed.
Dedicated to
Silky
Table of Contents
1. GQ
2. Moving, Again
3. My New Favorite Color
4. My Unusual Interest
5. Secret Agents
6. Iris
7. Irrepressible Attraction
8. Here In Your Arms
9. Beautiful Disaster
10. Et Tu, Brute?
11. V-Bomb
12. You Know My Name
13. Crashing Down
14. Grace
15. Communication Is Key
16. Unleashed
17. Utter Perfection
18. Impending Visit
19. Last Call
20. Historical Participation
21. Present and Future
22. Decision
23. Feelings
24. Mêlée
25. Ticket
26. Indi Missions
27. I’m Coming Out
The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.
- Genesis 6:4
He looked round, and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. It was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painter’s work, and all that that meant. It would kill the past, and when that was dead he would be free.
- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
GQ
Chapter 1
Keira
The highest point in High Point, North Carolina isn’t high enough to kill you if you jumped off it. But that didn’t keep my friend Elly from trying. That’s how she tore her ACL a few weeks ago and that’s why she had to wear a large black brace on her right leg all the time now.
No one really knew about the incident except for her family and me. The story was that she’d been in a car accident. It was really a miracle that she was still breathing at all. She was so vibrant of a person, her infectious personality was one to be admired, so I had never suspected she would do something like she had. When I went to the hospital to see her after her mom had called me, the first thing she told me was that I was supposed to act normally toward her. She just wanted to forget it had ever happened.
The Saturday before our junior year of high school started, Elly and I decided to go to dinner and see the new romantic comedy at the theater. We had known each other for a couple of years but had only become close over the summer while we were counselors at the same camp. (Two months in the mountains away from my mother was definitely worth the manual labor that I encountered on the job.) Elly kept me sane throughout June and July as our excited campers cantered circles around the cabins.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Elly after our drinks arrived.
“That guy’s kind of a creeper,” Elly said. I loved how I never had to ask her how she felt because reading the emotions off her face was easier than doing so with anyone else I’d ever met. Somehow, I felt that was still true.
I turned to glance at where she was indicating. “What? Which guy?”
“The one sitting alone at the bar. He’s staring over here,” she said looking away from the man. She began plucking at her naturally curly brown hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail- an uncomfortable gesture I didn’t see very often.
I tried again. This time I saw whom she was talking about. At first, all I could see was a very attractive man with short blond hair looking in our direction, but after a second or two, I noticed that he had a scar. This man, who had otherwise perfect features, bore a scar that ran from his right eye, down his cheek and neck, to disappear beneath his shirt collar. I could have simply thought of the imperfection as just a sad tragedy that had once happened to this innocent GQ model but his light blue eyes were revealing a deeper emotion that did not allow for innocence.
“What do you think his problem is?” I asked, now staring at our table, the wall, my menu, anywhere other than at the hostile stranger. “Do you think he had a really bad day or something?”
“It would’ve had to have been the worst day anyone has ever had in the history of the world to give him the right to look at anyone he doesn’t know with such hatred.”
“I don’t think it’s hate,” I lied after a slight pause. “Maybe he’s thinking, ‘Who’s that weird girl over there with the bulky, ugly brace on her leg?’” I smiled even though I knew Elly had only worn her supportive brace because I’d driven us that night. She didn’t usually follow the doctor’s orders.
“Ha ha, very funny Keira,” she glared. “Or maybe he wants to know who the freak is that this hot, injured girl is being nice enough to eat dinner with,” she said, not being able to control her giggles, and I couldn’t help but letting loose my own.
After a while though, I involuntarily looked back at the man. “I hope he finishes his drink and leaves soon,” I said almost to myself.
“I second that,” Elly nodded.
Thankfully, the man did leave, and Elly and I got back to our fun night, forgetting the evening’s earlier uneasy feelings as soon as the guy walked out of the restaurant door. I didn’t think about him for the rest of the night—that is, not until I fell asleep. The unknown man haunted my dreams with his malevolent eyes.
Moving, Again
Chapter 2
Uriel
“Tell me again why we’re going to a private school this time instead of the usual routine of attending the most immoral, deprived public high school we can find,” Dagan said as he dropped a box on the living room floor and turned to face Azra.
“You know exactly why. Now stop trying to stall and keep unpacking,” Azra told him. It was classic Dagan; he was always looking for a way to get out of doing anything that required physical exertion. Ever since video games had been invented, he did nothing but play them in his spare time. Plus, there’s no way he could have forgotten a single detail of this mundane mission. Azra had mapped it all out for us since this was a bit different from what we usually did. Human education was still the dull component of our missions, I thought. I mean, compared to the hunting down of demons and such, spreading a little morality in a school was the slow part of our commission. But I have to admit, it was strange that we were sent to a private school. You’d think this small well-off academy wouldn’t have big enough problems for us to get involved in.
Assignments were a little different than usual so Azra had gone meticulously over our roles. But that’s Azra; he always does the planning and instructing. It’s what he was made to do. He’s great at seeing the bigger picture. Just like, for some inexplicable reason, Dagan was made to command the element of earth. I mean, I love and appreciate the irony and all- this abnormally small and slothful boy having the ability to send boulders
crashing into mountains- but I always want to haul him off the couch and out to an open field to practice his gift.
“Fine,” Dagan exhaled. “But you have to admit that the schedule is weird at this school. When have we ever had an A Day-B Day schedule? Every class is an hour and a half long! And the classes last the whole year! And what’s with starting so early in the summer? Come on, the middle of August! Really?” he complained. When neither of us responded, he called over his shoulder and whined some more, “Odeda, how much more is there?”
“Just five more boxes,” Odeda said as she walked in carrying the couch. Another ironic gift given was the one of immense strength to the skinny girl who was holding a sofa that was more than four times her size and had at least ten large cardboard boxes filled with, no doubt, heavy objects balanced on its cushions like it was just another one of her magazines. And she’d never let us forget that she could take any of us in an arm wrestle any day. “Do you think you big, muscular, and burly men can handle the rest of the boxes or does the girl of the bunch have to get them?”
“I would never ask so much of a woman,” Azra said looking Odeda in the eye.
Then, soundlessly and in a matter of seconds, Odeda dropped the couch and lunged across the room knocking Azra flat on his back with her on top of him, pinning him down. “This woman is your equal in almost every way.” She sneered. “And your superior in others.” Azra smiled and lifted his hands, palms up, in a sign of surrender. After her pride was content, Odeda let him stand. As she turned to walk away, Azra reached out, pulled her back and into his arms, and kissed her.
Dagan and I exchanged a look and simultaneously said, “I’ll get the boxes,” and we raced out the front door.
♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂
At sunset, Zev, the last of my family, returned with his report. He found Dagan and me sitting in chairs we’d unpacked and placed on the backyard’s brick patio. “What are you two doing out here?” he asked.
“Hiding from the face sucking,” Dagan replied, sounding sincerely disgusted. I said before that Azra was made for wisdom and Odeda for strength; what I failed to mention is that they were made for each other, as well as for their talents. As Azra puts it, the day he found Odeda, he found his other half. It was like a void inside of him had suddenly been filled. I had often wondered how this could possibly have felt, but I couldn’t even imagine it. Seeing the look in Azra’s eyes when he spoke of such feelings produced a desire in me to have the same connection as he has with Odeda. William Shakespeare wrote, “I have immortal longings in me.” Well, with me the longings really are immortal, which makes them that much more unbearable.
Zev’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Grow up, Dagan.”
“I’m over three thousand years old,” Dagan said with a smile.
“Yeah, but you act like you’re three,” Zev boomed with laughter.
“What’s the report?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
It worked. Zev opened the back door to the house and called, “Hey! You do know that we’re on a mission, don’t you? Get out here and listen to the report you ordered, Azra.” Then he dropped into the chair next to mine.
Pretty soon, Azra and Odeda came out and sat down, filling the remaining seats we had out. This was my family. Our guild was of four brothers and one sister (or wife in Azra’s case). We had worked as a unit for the better part of twenty-five centuries, and had grown into a well-oiled machine. We were the perfect team with Azra as our unspoken captain. Even in that moment, when we were all on equal ground sitting at a round glass table, he commanded our full attention. “What did you find?” he asked Zev.
“My companions sensed that three powerful Watchers were spread out around the city- an unusual amount for such an average place. Why are they here?” Zev asked Azra.
“What better place is there to hide what you’re doing than somewhere that your enemy is not expecting? A big city is too obvious and is already crawling with Watchers and evil beings that are always being monitored, and a small town is easily overrun with corruption, making it a place where our kind can detect their presence quickly. So they chose an average city that is not excessively popular to the world. As to why exactly they are here, I don’t know. I was not told that. My guess is that the Watchers are planning something that is, somehow, being temporarily kept from our knowledge. Something very bizarre is happening or is about to happen; I can feel it.” When he looked up, Azra’s eyes were confused and his brow was wrinkled with worry. He stood up and tried to wipe the emotions from his face. “I think it’s time for some sleep; we have one more day to get situated here before the school year starts. Everything must go smoothly.” Odeda stood up too, and they walked into the house together.
“He really hates not knowing things, doesn’t he?” Dagan asked to no one in particular.
Zev answered him, “Fear of the unknown isn’t very common in Nephilim, maybe because there is not much that is unknown to us. Azra likes to be prepared and can’t stand a gray area in the plan. He needs to be like an otter and go with the flow of the current, not against it. He just needs to accept and adapt.”
Dagan looked at him. “An otter? Honestly?”
“What?” Zev said defensively.
“You couldn’t think of a cooler animal?”
“All animals are equally cool.”
“I’m just saying, you compare Azra to an animal and you pick that one? He deserves a little better, don’t you think?”
“Well, I don’t know, Dagan, which of us talks to animals? Hhm?” Zev pretended to be deep in thought. And, yes, he can communicate with animals. It’s pretty awesome. “Oh yeah, I do. So I know which animal is the perfect one to choose.”
After this terribly stimulating battle of wits, I got up and went inside to get my keys. Even though I didn’t have to walk to get them, I was still getting used to the house and its layout so I did anyway. When I came back out, Zev and Dagan were still arguing over which animal Azra was most like. “I’m going for a drive. I’ll be back before noon tomorrow.”
They both stopped talking and watched me leave. When he thought I was out of earshot, Zev soberly whispered to Dagan, “I hope this town will lift him from his doleful mood.”
Dagan replied, “It’s been decades. We’d need a miracle for that to happen overnight.”
And though my brothers said these things, they did not stop me from leaving. While they, or I, didn’t understand the melancholy misery that I had been trapped in lately, we all knew that I’d, for some reason, grown weary of life. And so, as was my custom whenever things became too much to bear, I took off in the opposite direction, if only for a night.
My New Favorite Color
Chapter 3
Keira
Monday, I finished getting ready for school- packing my backpack, making sure I had enough pencils, put batteries in my calculator, ex cetera- and played volleyball. Monday night is volleyball night at the local gym. I’ve been going every time that I can for at least three years now. I go and play games from seven to nine with anyone who comes and wants to play. Usually it’s about ten men and women over thirty years old and me. Every now and then a boy or girl my age will come, but I’m used to being the only teen by now.
I didn’t sleep well that Monday night. I never do the night before the first day of school. When I woke up, I didn’t know how I felt about starting another year of high school. I was ready to be done and to move on already, but since I couldn’t, I accepted the inevitable and got out of bed.
I live about thirty-five minutes from the school. So while I drove, I listened to a mix CD that I had burned the previous night. Before I got to the last song, I arrived at school. It was the usual first day routine: say hi to everyone, find out what locker to put the dozens of binders in, and go to homeroom before the eight o’clock bell rings. I went to my first class, which was Religion. I had the usual internal reaction of “redundant.” When you hear about spiritual beliefs on television, in newspape
rs, and in everyday life, it makes you apathetic toward the subject; you just can’t help it, or at least I couldn’t. I’m sixteen, what do I care?
And why is it that no one ever wants to answer the hard questions or talk about the interesting points of religions? I know that everyone has a different opinion on what happens when the physical body dies and that most people like to think about happy places that they’ll end up, but why is it that teachers, preachers, and such never want to dwell on the supernatural or a possible bad outcome after death? Tell me something fascinating for a change.
These were the thoughts and questions in my head as I went to my first class. At the end of the period, I decided that the teacher seemed to be surprisingly alright so far. But I’d have to see how things went before I started getting too expectant.
Next, I had AP English. While English is my favorite subject, the AP part had me a little worried. All I heard from the seniors was how much homework they had to do the year before. Great. I walked into class with Josh, my oldest best friend. We had been best buds since first grade. We took two empty seats at the far right side of the room and waited for the bell to ring. Just before it did, a group of new students walked into the classroom. My school rarely ever got new people, so this was a treat. All eyes were on them, and some whispering had already started. I looked up to see if there were any girls in the bunch. New girls could mean a new sport teammate and potentially, a new friend. New boys were always the same; none of them were worth wasting any time talking to. It’s sad, but it was true.
So I looked up for a friendly female face, but what I found was five of the most beautiful beings I had ever seen. There was one girl, but I couldn’t stop staring at the four boys- two with brown hair and two with blond. Well, they weren’t really boys. Three looked like they could easily be in college already. And I wasn’t really staring at all of them. My attention was focused on one boy in particular- I bet you can’t guess who. He. Was. Gooood-looking. He was tall compared to me, but that’s not too hard. Probably a little over six feet with an athletic build. He was obviously strong, but he didn’t have freakishly large, body building muscles that some girls like, but I don’t share the opinion. His hair was a sandy blond with a good amount of wave and curl to it, ending somewhere in the middle of his neck. His skin glowed; I don’t know how else to describe it. It wasn’t a creepy alien glow-in-the-dark type of thing. It was more like he shone from the inside out. All of this, I recognized the moment he walked in because he was like nothing I had ever seen before, and after a few seconds of me practically ogling at him, he looked up.
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