Fall of the Nephilim: A Blackmoore Prequel (The Nephilim Books Book 2)

by Marcus James

  Could she reason with these creatures she wondered? Could she tell them she had no intentions of having a child? Could she discover what they were and get them to give up their hellish crusade?

  She knew she had to go back to Kuri. She knew she had to find Angelina and discover what the three of them had to do with all of this. After seeing the books on that bookshelf in their living room, Kathryn was now certain, more than ever before, that Niiq, Kuri, and Arish had summoned these beings and perhaps made some kind of deal with them. Some kind of bargain that included her, that perhaps meeting them hadn’t been by chance, but a clever set up.

  What else could it possibly be?

  “It was a pretty shitty thing Mags, but I get it. I get it and I forgive you.”

  Magdalene smiled and her shoulders relaxed with relief. There would be no sentiment beyond this. There would be no hugging or declarations of love. That’s not who they were. Being a Blackmoore hardened you to sentimentality. Centuries of death and heartache took root early on in life and made them people who kept their feelings close to the chest.

  They sat in silence, both tired from the yelling and tired from all of the excitement of the night. They both could use sleep, and they could feel its weight begin to press upon them and make them yearn for their beds.

  A few moments later the sliding glass door opened and Sheffield popped his head in.

  “Is it safe?” He asked.

  Kathryn and Magdalene smiled and nodded.

  “All clear.” Kathryn said to him.

  “Good.” He pitched his cigarette and stepped inside, followed by Richie, who was still smoking.

  Richie looked from Kathryn to Magdalene and back again, his eyes wide with a visibly troubled expression on his face. Kathryn knew what he was going to ask, and she also knew that what she was going to share would give him no comfort.

  “Tell me about Angelina.”

  They had stayed up until four in the morning discussing everything that had happened. They had spoken about The Shade of the Well and her ominous revelations, the party the night before at the band’s house in the hills, minus her affair with Kuri, and the inability to get in touch with Angelina since they had left.

  Sheffield said nothing, though those green embers burned into Kathryn at the mention of the house party, and she wondered if he suspected that she had bedded one of them. If he asked, she figured she would tell him the truth, but she prayed that he wouldn’t. Best not to find yourself in a situation where you have the potential to lie, she figured. Lying is always a temptation to spare the feelings of the ones you love, and Kathryn-like any other Blackmoore-had become a master at the lie.

  Richie had suggested that perhaps Angelina Ramos was just upset with Kathryn and Magdalene for leaving her, and Kathryn had hoped for the same thing, but she had known deep down that this wasn’t the case.

  Sheffield asked no questions. His body tensed ever-so-slightly at the mention of the prophecy and the revelation that Kathryn would be the Blackmoore to carry one of the two predicted in the prophecy that would one day hold the survival of the Blackmoores, along with the rest of mankind, in their hands.

  When she vocalized her intent to never bear children, therefore making the prediction null and void, a shadow of mournful acceptance fell across Sheffield’s face. It was an accepting of the situation and the condition in which he would have to agree to if he wished to have a life with her.

  “I will have no witches. Let another Blackmoore be the heir to this burden. I don’t want it.” she had said to them. Magdalene had suggested the universe would have its way somehow, but Kathryn dismissed it.

  “My life is my life, and everything I do is my choice. Perhaps if I was caught unawares then it would have its child, but now that I know that it is me, I will do what I must to ensure it never happens.”

  When they had finished the remaining bottle of Jack Daniels they decided to call it a night, the velvet sky was lightening by the minute, and soon the dawn would awaken the fragrant grass and open the petals and there was a full day ahead of them.

  They all had agreed to track down Angelina. Sheffield and Kathryn would go to the band’s house, and Richie would taker Magdalene with him to the Ramos house in Echo Park, and then all four of them would regroup at the Rainbow and wait for her there if they could not locate her before then.

  Kathryn had laid in the dark unable to fall asleep, despite being drunk, and she watched as the sun took more and more steps in pushing the night away and illuminating the city in its warm, golden light.

  She wondered if Richie was smitten with Magdalene, as she could tell that her cousin was enamored of him. Towards the end of the night Magdalene had begun to doze, sitting next to Richie on the sofa, and soon her cheek had found a home resting on Richie’s shoulder.

  It had been sweet, and Kathryn realized it was the first time that Magdalene had shown an interest in anyone. She had always been so devoted to the esoteric realms, and she had also made the commitment to stay a virgin, taking her vows to Ogou Feray and becoming the Loa’s wife and his alone.

  Would she break this commitment? Kathryn wondered as she stared out into the dark, listening to Sheffield’s quiet snores, or would her cousin deny herself the affections of a human being in order to fulfill a promise made in youth to a god?

  And then there was the prospect of seeing Nephilim again. Of seeing those three dangerous and seductive men who were tapped into some sort of ancient power that had seduced her as easily as they had seduced everyone else on the Strip, and soon, with the release of their album, that music of theirs would be potentially playing on radios and in speakers all over the western world.

  Well, not this time. She knew not to trust them. She knew after seeing the books on those shelves and paying attention to the way everyone swooned to their sound, that they were not to be trusted and she would not let any of them have that kind of effect on her again.

  A flash of Kuri’s strong cock between her legs-condom free and hot and silky as it penetrated her-came across her mind, along with the visceral memory of his weight on top of her and the taste of his kisses flushed her cheeks and made her tremble with desire.

  Kathryn ran her hand through her hair and rolled over onto her side, looking at Sheffield’s beautiful face, his tan skin and the stubble that followed his jawline and framed those beautiful lips brought Kathryn back to herself and what really mattered.

  She would not lose sight of her task-her purpose-and she would kill Kuri, Arish, and Niiq if she had to; if for no other reason than to protect her future with Sheffield Burges.

  They had awoken around noon, and after a quick breakfast of dried toast, coffee, and aspirin generously provided by room service, the four of them set off on their respective tasks.

  Magdalene and Richie took off in his steel blue Thunderbird which he had parked along Montreal Road, and Kathryn and Sheffield sped down Sunset on their way to his hotel so he could change.

  It had surprised Kathryn how close he had been to her and she was saddened by the fact that she hadn’t felt his arrival. There was a pang of guilt in knowing that her dalliance with Kuri had more than likely caused this fog, and she felt like an awful person for having waited for him for so long, and that once the moment finally came, she had been numb to his energy.

  They hadn’t been together for eight years, and yet, even still, this fact didn’t take away the weight of feeling as if she had betrayed him somehow, that if he had ever found out, it would break his heart and ruin everything that they now had the possibility to achieve.

  Say nothing, she told herself. Say nothing and never let it happen again.

  His room at the Sunset Marquis was bright with sun which reflected on the white walls and shone through the glass door that led out onto the balcony. The swimming pool below was just as busy as the pool at the Marmont, and Kathryn could see that a photo shoot was taking place with a blond model dressed in heels and a low-cut black one-piece bathing suit.

&nbs
p; Kathryn stood watching in her black silk halter shift dress that stopped just above the knee, her feet were strapped into stiletto open-toed heels, and her gold Rolex with mother-of-pearl face, reflected the sun and made the light dance on the walls.

  What am I doing? She asked herself while Sheffield changed. They had already showered back at the Marmont, making love against the tiled wall as the hot water ran down their naked bodies, their kisses wet and slightly metallic from the pipes. They could kill him and I’m bringing him with me.

  “Babe?”

  Kathryn turned to look at Sheffield. He was standing there poised in his white briefs, his cock thick and stretching the pouch. His body was strong and not as lean as he had been in their teenaged years. She hungered for him and wanted to devour him again, to take his cock inside of her and ride him until he was tired and unable to move.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is everything all right? You just seem... I dunno... someplace else.”

  The look of concern was heartbreaking and she wanted to spare him the worry. “Yes, sorry, I’m just worried about... everything. Aren’t you?”

  Sheffield sighed and nodded. “I am. Of course I am, but I’m not going to let it chase me off. I’m not going to let that fear or that worry drive me away from you again.”

  Kathryn moved to him quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “I’m sorry...” She whispered in his ear.

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “This.” Kathryn summoned that witchcraft, feeling it stir in her like a hot, tingling cyclone and brought her lips to his. “Sleep.”

  Their lips met-fast and fierce-and Kathryn was quick to guide him onto the bed as his eyes closed and his body became heavy with slumber.

  Kathryn knew that Sheffield would wake up angry, and she knew that an argument was sure to follow, but she couldn’t worry about that now, and she hoped that in the end he would understand that she was desperate to keep him safe.

  She kissed him once more and she made a call to room service to bring him an old fashioned-extra sweet-in a couple of hours, along with a note that she left on the bedside table telling him to drink the cocktail, that the combination of sugars from the cherry and bourbon would help to dispel the fog created by what she had done. She apologized again and signed it ‘with love’ before quickly walking out of the room and back out to her car.

  The ride to Angelina’s house had been mostly silent. Richie was visibly worried about the whereabouts of his friend, and Magdalene was busy focusing in on the energies around as they came closer to the Ramos residence. She could feel the spirits-her beloved Loas-getting stronger as they wound through the residential streets lined thick with oaks and palms.

  They were slightly different here. More youthful, and she understood that these were their more vibrant Orisha aspects of Santeria. She clung tightly to the red and blue beads around her neck with the beautifully painted medal of Saint George on his white horse spearing the dragon; he was the catholic mask of Ogou and it was to his strength that she silently called forth, preparing for a battle she knew that they may all lose.

  Magdalene looked over at Richie and smiled. He was pretty with his mess of black hair and the scruff on his pale face. She looked at his lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. What it would be like to entwine her fingers with his and feel his heartbeat pulse through his fingertips.

  She had been nervous when she had offered the second bed to him when they had finally called it a night. She had never slept in a room with a man before, aside from sleepovers with her various cousins growing up, and to be that close with another man who was not related to her in the intimate dark, regardless of their separate beds, had made her pulse quicken.

  Richie looked over at her, smiling when their eyes met, and caught unawares, she instantly began to blush and averted her gaze.

  “We’re here.” He said to her. They pulled up into the drive of the blue and orange trimmed craftsman and Magdalene instantly felt the onslaught of power that emanated from the home and pulsated from the ground below.

  “Jesus...” it was overwhelming, and she now understood what Kathryn had tried to describe to her. It was like their own home, and yet the power was foreign enough that it felt like being slammed into by a semi.

  “You okay?” Richie asked her before opening the door.

  “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a lot of power here.”

  “I believe it.”

  “All right,” Magdalene said, gripping the door handle and pushing it open. “Let’s go.”

  They got out of the car, and they were met by a warm breeze perfumed with flowers which moved through her auburn curls and rustled the flowy sleeves of her light cotton blouse and licked her bare legs.

  She suddenly felt naked in her denim cutoffs and brown leather sandals, making their way up the walk towards the front porch. The air was filled with the music of what she assumed to be wind chimes, somewhere in the back of the house, and the yard was a vibrant garden of beautiful and exotic flowers.

  The door was opened and the front room of the craftsman was visible through the netting of the orange painted screen door. There was a rather large wicker basket filled with corn husks sitting on the concrete porch to the right-hand side, and the shade from the canopy of trees kept the inside of the home in a cool blue hue.

  “Hello! Angelina? It’s Richie!” he waited for a moment and then proceeded to knock forcefully on the wood frame of the screen door.

  They stood there listening for any signs of life, hearing the buzzing of cicadas and the chirping of birds. She was just about to suggest that they make their way to the back of the house, when a frail old woman in a white cotton dress and leathery brown skin emerged from another room, her feet bare and her gray hair was long and parted down the middle, spilling down her back and over her shoulders.

  “Richie-mijo-is that you?” the old woman said as she squinted and made her way towards the door.”

  “It is, Carmen. I’m looking for Angelina.”

  The old woman came to the door and stood there staring at the two of them through the screen. “Oh, no... She isn’t here.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?” he asked.

  The old woman sighed and shook her head. “I have not seen her since she went to work the other night. She hasn’t been home.” She turned her dark eyes onto Magdalene and shook her head. “I am worried for her.”

  “We believe she is in danger... that we are all in danger.” Magdalene said to her.

  The old woman gave an embittered laugh and nodded. “Oh, yes, we are all in danger... but no more so than you... you who have betrayed Him. You who betrayed and ignited His cries for retribution!”

  Magdalene’s words caught in her throat, and she began to feel off balance, as if the world was beginning to melt around her. “Wha..?” She took hold of Richie and gripped his forearm as tight as she could to steady herself.

  “The Devil shall come for his witches...” The old woman hissed.

  She wasn’t imagining it. Her vision-her sense of gravity-it was all shifting and becoming topsy-turvy and yet when she looked at the old woman, she was steadfast in her place and she quickly realized that what she was suddenly experiencing was her doing.

  “Stop it...”

  “Magdalene, what’s going on?” Richie asked. His voice was beginning to rise in a panic.

  “The Devil shall come and he will go through them one by one...” Carmen said again.

  “Stop it!” Magdalene felt her witchcraft move out of her, knocking the old woman to the ground as if invisible hands had taken hold of her and the screen door splintered in two before them.

  As soon as the old woman hit the ground everything righted itself again and like getting up too quickly, the disorienting effects took a moment to wear off.

  “Shit!” Richie took hold of the handle of the door and pulled it open, having to break apart the rest of the screen in doing so. He raced to the old woma
n, taking her hand in his and placing the other under her head to support it.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but she was trying to... I don’t know... incapacitate me somehow. I had to do something.”

  “Will she be okay?!”

  Magdalene shrugged. “Is she breathing?”

  Richie placed his hand to her chest and his ear to her face and then nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

  “Then I’ll assume the old witch is fine.”

  “Why would she do-well, whatever it was she was doing to you?”

  Magdalene sighed. “I don’t know. She said the same thing to Kathryn. Perhaps she blames Kathryn for whatever has happened to Angelina. I couldn’t tell you, and honestly my care for her well-being has pretty much been stifled by her attacking me.”

  Richie kept tight to her and looked at Magdalene imploringly. “We can’t just leave her like this.”

  At this point, all she wanted to do was leave the old woman on the floor, but she knew that she had to be the better witch. She needed to show compassion even to those who trespassed against her. Through compassion perhaps she would gain answers.

  “Get her on the sofa over there and I’ll try to find a wash cloth or something.”

  Richie nodded and carefully slipped his arms under the tiny woman, lifting her off of the hardwood floor with relative ease.

  Magdalene made her way through the living room, passing large paintings of various saints and made her way into the old kitchen, finding a clean white hand towel draped over the handle of the oven. The towel felt stiff and worn due to years of wash cycles with cheap detergent.

  She turned on the cold water and dampened the cloth, staring out of the window above the sink at the side of the house, watching as a green hummingbird with a magenta breast flutter from one pink flower to the next.