The Nephilim: Book One (14 page)

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Authors: Bridgette Blackstone

BOOK: The Nephilim: Book One
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"What happened?" he
asked, panic in his eyes.

"It shocked me," she told
him, wiping her finger off on her dress, "It's nothing." She could
feel pain pulse in her fingertip and squeezed it against her thumb. It was so
stupid, she thought, such a simple thing and she'd been so easily hurt by it.
How was she supposed to help these people if this was how she was? Sophie's
voice cracked, "Are you sure you're not making a mistake?"

Adam cocked his head, his coppery
hair falling to the side, "About what?"

Sophie groaned quietly and looked
up at the tree. She didn't know how to say what she was thinking. At that
moment she envied that tree having to do nothing but exist, never having to
explain itself. "Verrine says I'm all these things, that I did something
powerful long ago, but that wasn't really me."

"Sure it was," Adam
shrugged, "I know, I was there."

Sophie stared at him hard, chasing
the casual look from his face, "No, it wasn't. That was some past life me—some
demon me. Now, I'm just human."

"It's not like that. You're—"

"No, it is." Sophie
walked a few paces away, feeling anger bubbling up inside her, "It's
exactly like that. I don't know who I am, but I know I'm not the person that
you and Verrine remember. I'm not even the person Mona knows, not Eric's
sister." She turned back to him, "Do you get that?"

Adam opened his mouth then closed
it again. The crickets had quieted and even the trees were holding back their
whispers. Just like him.

"And you, you won't tell me
anything at all and that's just so," she pulled the pin from her hair in
irritation and ran a hand through the freed locks, "It's frustrating, and
I don't even know why!" She dropped onto the ground, resting her forehead
on her knees and blowing out a long breath, "I have all these half
feelings, like I'm remembering scenes from a book, not my own life. Do you know
what that's like? To...to not have an identity?"

But how could he? She wrapped her
arms around her legs and hid her face. He'd been there through all her lives,
of course his own was complete. Footsteps came toward her,  followed by the
sounds of him settling beside her in the grass. She could feel his presence
there but couldn't look up at him.

"I'm not actually an angel.
Not anymore."

His voice was rough then, like it
had been coated in sand. She peeked over her arm at him. He was staring off
into the trees, but didn't seem like he actually saw them.

"Well, I might be, I might
not. I don't know and that is what is so difficult. I broke the laws of Heaven.
I betrayed my kind. As punishment, the highest order of angels, The Seraphim,
ordered my execution. The complete and utter demolition of my soul. The day
after the Seraphim’s judgment, my wings were severed. I thought that was it,
that I would die then and there. I'd never known that kind of pain."

Sophie lifted her head. She wanted
him to know she was listening; he spoke so candidly, he couldn't possibly
realize what he was saying, but he only continued, "But I didn’t die.
That’s just what they do. It’s what they like to do. They remove traitors’
wings and leave them to bleed. There’s no way to tell the time locked in a dark
cell, and pain obscures all that anyway. Of course, as a cleric, my body wanted
to regenerate, but that's impossible for wings. Instead, my being fought
against itself over and over. It made some valiant attempts," he snorted
an annoyed sort of laugh, "Even I was fooled by it a few times, but it
never prevailed.  Finally, light shined into my cell. Death, I was sure, was
coming, and I welcomed it. But it was my brother. He acted fast, he healed me
in ways that my weakened body couldn't, he helped me escape." His eyes
were glazed, a frown creasing his face, "I can still heal, I can fight,
but I've lost what defines me as an angel. I lost my rank, my brother, friends,
and I lost," he looked at Sophie, staring right into her. She could feel
his piercing eyes, feel how close he was to the edge. Then control settled back
into his face and he looked away, cutting himself off and shutting her out,
"I lost everything."

Sophie wanted to touch him, to run
her hands through his hair, to wrap herself around him, to make him somehow
whole. She fought the urge, but it thrashed around inside her chest. "I'm
sorry." It sounded so weak, so worthless, and she wanted to take it back.

"I'm not telling you so you
will feel sorry," he told her gently, "It's just what I have to give
to you: my story. I can't understand what you're going through, I can only tell
you that the people around you now are not nearly as put together as we seem
either. You're right; you are not the same now as you were then, but you're
still strong and caring, devoted, honest, beautiful. And maybe," he looked
up at the sky and sighed, "Maybe it is better that you don't know who you
were. You more than deserve the chance to be who you are now."

Sophie lunged at him. Not expecting
the sudden attack, he fell backwards with her wrapped around him. It had become
more than she could take and she let her feelings loose, squeezing him tightly,
not caring that she was lying on top of him, and buried her face in his chest.
He was, for a moment, stunned, but then she felt his arms settle over her,
hands and fingers wrapping around her body. He was warm, and it felt right.

After an immeasurable moment,
Sophie looked up at him and loosened her grip. She could feel her eyes burning
and saw she'd left a wet spot on his shirt where she'd rested her head. Adam
was looking down on her with a contented smile and drowsy eyes. A sort of panic
welled up in her then and she pushed herself away with more force than she
needed. He  exhaled sharply when she pressed against him, suddenly alert and
quick to pull his hands away.

Jumping up and smoothing out her
dress, Sophie turned away, "Ah, I'm sorry, I just..." Her voice
trailed off and she felt her cheeks burn.

Adam cleared his throat and got to
his feet, "No, it's fine. It's definitely fine."

"Thank you," Sophie told
him quietly, trying very hard not to look at him, "I know that probably
wasn't easy to say."

"It was nothing." She
peeked up at him and saw he wore a big, goofy grin. "I have an idea,"
he told her as the two walked back out onto the path and headed back from where
they had come, "Something that might make you feel better, but it will
have to wait for tomorrow."

Sophie yawned, "What is
it?"

"I think we should try getting
your powers back."

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

“This is hopeless!" Sophie
declared, crossing her arms as she turned to the others, "I can't do it.
I'm not like you guys; I don't have any fireballs or fangs," she peered
around at the group of assorted astral beings and pointed at herself as if
speaking to a child, "I-am-hu-man."

"You're just trying too
hard," Verrine smiled encouragingly, though her eyes read more anxious
than anything, "We haven't been working that long, you can't expect to get
it right away."

Sophie frowned; they had been
standing in the same spot out in the courtyard for hours and she had failed to
produce a single extraordinary occurrence. Fears of not being what they thought
were slowly creeping back despite the conversation she'd had with Adam the
night before. She looked over at him, standing a bit farther behind the rest
with Mona at his side, and he offered her a grin.

"Would you like to try again
or take a break for a bit?" Pru's calming voice asked. She and Reym had
joined them when they announced they would be trying to coax Sophie's powers
out of her. The night before, Sophie had been excited about the prospect and
looking forward to having a way to defend herself, but now it seemed
impossible. Even so, she had to at least try.

She turned back to where the candle
stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. "Again," she told Pru and
focused solely on the wick. Her head was already throbbing, but she refused to
let that steal her attention.  It was a simple task: light the candle. It's
made to burn, she told herself, you'll be helping it fulfill its purpose. She
could feel sweat bead on her forehead and her muscles ached from tensing. She
tried not to breath, afraid she'd wreck any sort of concentration she'd
achieved. She narrowed her eyes to slits, she felt the heat of flames running
through her and imagined the wick springing to life with fire, she could see,
just there, the tiniest wisp of smoke trailing up from the candle.

Sophie gasped, opening her eyes
wide, relaxing her muscles, and took a step toward the candle. It had been
there, hadn't it? The smoke? A hint of fire? She took another step, craned her
neck. Was it really?

"God!" Sophie exploded
and stomped her feet. The wick was still untouched, without charring.

"No, we usually don't get help
from there," Verrine joked as she put a hand on Sophie's shoulder.

"This doesn't seem
right," Mona spoke up. When they all looked to her, she hesitated,
"What I mean is, I've seen Sophie use her powers before and she didn't
conjure fire. Not really."

"She used to be able to
conjure fire," Verrine challenged, thrusting her hands onto her hips.

"Yeah, sure," Mona took
in a deep breath and cocked her head, "But that was a different body. What
she has done, in this body, is something else. And it wasn't like she knew she
could do it, it was all on emotion," she addressed Sophie directly,
"Do you remember, in the alley, you wanted to help me?"

"Yeah," Sophie thought
back to when she and Mona in danger. She had used some powerful, white light to
repel her attacker, the same light she'd used on Eric, "I was scared."

"So fear—that's an
emotion," Mona spoke faster as the idea came to her, "Maybe you don't
need to focus on the result, but on a strong emotion."

Verrine huffed, "Do you want
us to scare her?"

"Uh, no," Mona stared
daggers at the demon, "Some emotion that she's feeling now. Just something
strong."

At that moment Sophie felt
frustrated and hopeless; two things she suspected wouldn't even light a match,
but, beneath that, she held onto something that spilled over from the previous
night. She glanced at Adam then back to the candle.

Sophie closed her eyes and
remembered when she lunged at Adam. Embarrassment hit her first and a fluttery
tickle ran through her that she pushed past. That wasn't what she'd wanted. She
remembered his words, how he'd told her his story—it was what he had to give to
her, he'd said. That filled her with gratitude. And then the way he'd held her
when they laid in the grass, the look on his face, the warmth that she'd felt,
and—

"Soph!"

Verrine's voice jolted her out of
the memory. She opened her eyes onto the candle, or what was left of it, and
saw a small flame flickering on a puddle of wax just before it went out. She
spun, "Did I?"

Verrine was nodding with her mouth
open in a wide grin, "Yes, you did!" then she grabbed her friend and
smashed her to her chest.

Sophie hugged her back, catching
Adam's eye as she did so. She tried to look meaningfully at him and as Verrine
pulled away, Sophie mouthed a 'thank you' to him.

"Um, why don't you work on
that with Pru and Reym," Verrine told her, "And Mona can help with
moral support, apparently. I will be right back."

As Pru, Reym and Mona gathered
around her, Verrine stepped back and, when they looked busy, she turned to Adam
without a word, took him by his sleeve, and pulled him from the courtyard to
the covered walkway that surrounded it. Stepping behind a column, she frowned
and narrowed her eyes at him, "So, no ties, huh?"

"What are you talking
about?" Adam distractedly tried to peer around the column to watch Sophie.

The demon huffed, "I'm talking
about last night, in the garden."

He glanced at her, "Oh, that.
Spying, were you?"

"I knew you'd be there, and I
wanted to talk to you after I met with the guards, but I wasn't expecting to
see both of you."

His eyes widened, "What do you
see?"

"Was there something I
shouldn't have seen?" she was quick to snap back at him.

He shook his head and went back to
watching the others.

Verrine tried to make eye contact
with him, "So what happened then? What was that?" Adam craned his
neck to watch Sophie more clearly, seemingly ignoring her, but she growled and
grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her, "What are you
thinking?"

Adam moved her hand from his face
but finally gave her his attention, "Why are you so upset? You were the
one who wanted her to know everything."

Verrine looked as though she could
spit fire, "No. Not if you're still planning to leave."

"It's not like..." Adam
looked at the ground and shuffled the dirt with his foot, "It's
harmless."

"Harmless?" Verrine's
voice rose then came back down to a shrewd whisper, "How can you say
that?"

"Verrine..."

"You say you want to protect
her. Do you realize that this—all of this—happened when she thought you were
dead?" Adam pleaded with her to not continue, but she did, "And it
turns out you weren't dead."

"That's not fair, I—"

"No," she held her hand
up to his face, "I don't want to hear it. You said yourself that Sophie
has a chance at a different life. We might disagree about what's better, but I
can't make that decision for you. What I can do is protect my friend, so I just
need to know one thing: are you going to tell her the truth?"

Adam looked around Verrine and the
column. Reym stood beside Sophie and was guiding her arm in an arcing motion.
He recognized the look in the demon guard's green eyes.

"Because I'll tell her the
truth," Verrine had risen up on her toes and had her face inches from his.

"No," Adam whispered then
took a deep breath as Verrine too relaxed, "No, please. I can't do that to
her."

Verrine narrowed her eyes and
balled her fists by her sides, "Then don't." She turned on her heel
and stormed back to Sophie. He followed a few moments later.

Carabia then came running toward
their group from the far gate of the wall. Buer was trailing behind her,
slower, but with a much longer stride. The tiny demon looked very pleased as
she skipped up to the others, "Recruits ready!" she announced,
dropping into the typical salute with a little hop.

Buer dragged himself up beside her
and rested his hands on his knees taking in big puffs of air. He began to slide
down onto one knee as well until Sophie begged them to stop. He looked visibly
relieved as he straightened himself and took one big hand and brushed at his
fiery beard, "Thanks, milady. This one's impossible to keep up with."

"Nonetheless, we make a
fabulous team, you should have seen us out there, we got so many of the old
troops, and they are ready and on their way here, should be ready in a few
days."

Carabia's voice was high and
squeaky and she bounced from one foot to the other as she spoke, but Sophie had
caught most of what she said, "Troops?"

"Great," Verrine looked
about, "Where's Thanatos? He needs to get quarters ready for them."

"I'll find him!" Carabia
offered, quickly bounding off toward the castle.

"And I'll just wait here,"
Buer wandered over to a stone bench and dropped down with a heavy thud.

"Why do we need troops?"
Sophie asked cautiously, but loudly.

Verrine turned with an uneasy
smile, "Yes, that. Let's talk, okay?" Pru and Reym stayed behind and
Verrine guided Sophie toward the castle, Mona and Adam not far behind.
"So, since the strigori have the book now, we're fairly certain something
is going to come of all of this."

"But we're safe here."
She realized as the words came out they sounded childish and pithy.

"We are as long as Agrippa
isn't around. But if they can resurrect him we may have a problem. He knows how
to get here and much of his magic originates from these very walls. His powers
will be comparable to ours. By now they've formed their own army; we can't
afford to not have one."

Sophie knitted her brow. She didn’t
want an army to be a necessity, "But why would they come? They have the
book and getting Agrippa back was their whole plan, so if they can do that,
what's the point?"

Verrine looked uncomfortably back
at the other two. Mona set her face hard and continued for her, "It's you.
Agrippa wants you. I don't know why, but it's more than the fact you'd be able
to read the book and resurrect him."

"So you're raising an army to
keep him out,” her stomach flipped, “To protect me?"

"Yes," Verrine was quick
to grab her arm and answer, "And our whole kingdom. Agrippa is an enemy of
the entire realm. He wants Meririm's power. He wants to take over. We will stop
him, and if it must come to war, it must."

Sophie looked down at the ground,
"It just seems like this is something that could be solved differently.
Like, maybe we can go to them first, stop them from coming here. The four of
us, we can stop them before they start. We can get the book back and—"

"No," Verrine shook her
head, "No, we, well—you won't be fighting."

"That doesn't seem right—"

"The demons we are enlisting,
they're willing to die for this kingdom," she looked earnestly back at
Sophie.

"Shouldn't I be as well?"
Sophie answered quickly.

"Don't talk like that,"
Verrine furrowed her brow and pouted, "It's different with them—this is
what they do. You just melted a candle today, so let's not get too ahead of
ourselves."

“I don’t want to be useless,”
Sophie told her, shaking off her hands and rounding on them. She felt nervous
and sick to her stomach. It was a too familiar feeling, “I don’t want anyone to
die because of me.”

 

***

 

"Sophie?" The feminine
voice roused her from her sleep and she blinked into the darkened room. She
didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but could feel the eerie silence of the
rest of the castle weighing down on her, and she listened hard for other
sounds. When none came, she pushed herself to a seated position on the bed,
feeling more exhausted than usual, and looked about for the voice.

"Princess," the voice
sounded from the corner of the room, "Welcome back."

Sophie contemplated running, but
her fear and an overwhelming fatigue held her to the spot.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to
harm you," the voice cooed, somehow reading Sophie's mind, then let out a
little laugh, "I couldn't if I wanted to." From the corner, a woman
stepped, still half-drenched in shadows, pale-skinned, and tall with long,
spiraling, yellow hair falling to her wide hips. She wore a satiny dress, formal
with a high collar and full sleeves, and the room echoed with each of her
steps. As she came closer, she appeared doll-like with smooth, almost glassy
skin and stiff movements.

"What do you want?"
Sophie spoke slowly, mentally preparing herself to use her powers, though
unsure whether she would be able to muster them.

"What do I want?" the
woman smiled gently, stepping completely from the shadows, "This isn't
about what I want. This is about what you want."

Sophie drew in a quick breath and
covered her mouth, but couldn't tear her gaze away from the milky, white eye
the stranger had just revealed. In contrast to the other, sparkling blue one,
it stood out with a watery sheen, unnatural and unblinking, and frightened her
to her core. And yet something eerily familiar struck her. She’d seen this eye
before, and its owner had...helped her? Her mind raced around itself,
uneasiness setting in.

"Tell me, dear, how are you
feeling?" The woman ignored Sophie's reaction.

"Stay back," Sophie held
out a hand. She wanted to run, but her limbs felt heavy and she couldn't seem
to leave the bed. She shouted for Verrine, knowing she was just on the opposite
side of the wall. Nothing happened. "Verrine!" she called again,
panic rising in her.

The woman sighed, "I believe
she is not coming."

"Adam!" Sophie yelled,
straining her vocal cords, "Mona!"

She shook her head, her curls
staying neatly in place.

Sophie glared at the stranger,
"What did you do to them?"

"Darling, I came to talk about
you, not them." With a few more steps she had come up the foot of Sophie's
bed and perched on the edge.

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