Read The Nephilim: Book One Online

Authors: Bridgette Blackstone

The Nephilim: Book One (2 page)

BOOK: The Nephilim: Book One
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Sophie noticed her reflection shift
from the corner of her eye as the door opened. "I knew you'd pick out
something like that," the annoyed voice taunted.

Sophie turned, about to defend
herself, when a heap of black came at her. Mona shut the door behind her as
Sophie lifted an eyebrow at the skirt and top she’d just received.

"Well, put it on." Mona
only seemed to become more bothered as she crossed the room and threw herself
onto the bed.

Sophie hesitated, "I don't
know if it'll fit." Just a little more than three years separated the two
and both were petite, but Mona was slightly underdeveloped and gaunt.

Mona rolled her eyes, "You're
a stick," she joked dryly, "It will fit." Her hint at humor
eased Sophie, and she laid the clothes over a chair, reaching for her own
shirt, then stopped. She peered at Mona, not exactly comfortable changing in the
same room, but Mona was already sitting on her bed and poking around at what
lay on the nightstand. This being the most conversation the two had shared
since meeting, Sophie pulled off her shirt, afraid to spoil it by asking her to
leave.

Not recognizing the figure before her,
Sophie gnawed on her lower lip and drew her legs together. The stiff, pleated
material of the skirt barely covered what she imagined was legally required to
be in public, and her stomach was concealed this time as opposed to her arms
and most of her chest.

She looked to Mona who nodded with
satisfaction, "That'll work," she said more to herself than Sophie.

Uncertain how she felt, Sophie
peered to her bare feet and pointed, "You have any shoes?" she asked
coyly.

Mona almost smiled. She held in her
hand two small tubes that Sophie hadn't noticed before. She instructed her to
sit and proceeded to administer heavy eyeliner and mascara with fast motions
that made Sophie blink and twitch much to Mona’s annoyance. "You probably
aren't used to this much make-up, but you've got to fit in."

In truth, Sophie didn't use makeup
at all, her few glaring blemishes a testament to that, but felt almost
embarrassed to admit that to the practically prepubescent girl. Instead she
inquired as to why fitting in was so important, but Mona didn't respond.

Her cousin finished and took a step
back to admire her work. Sophie peered up at her from the chair, grasping the
seat. She’d pinched her knees together and chewed at the inside of her mouth.
"Stop that.  You look like you’re about to crack or something." Mona
slapped at her knees and Sophie feigned at relaxing.  Finally, Mona resigned
and sighed, "I'll go get you some boots."

 

***

 

Sophie rushed to keep up with Mona,
desperate to not lose her in the busy, darkened streets. She tugged at her
skirt as she caught disapproving glances of those that passed and trotted up to
her cousin's side, "So, where are we going?" Light gusts of wind
picked up their thin coats and they danced in the early fall breeze.

"Lamia," Mona continued
to push forward, not glancing from the direction she pursued.

"Oh," Sophie narrowed her
brow, assuming she was referring to the same club her aunt and uncle owned. It
was a place she had only heard of and never thought she would be allowed to
visit; at least not at her age.

They came to a stop at a corner and
waited with a throng of others as vehicles rushed passed. She looked across the
street at the group that waited there. A mother grabbed her unwilling son's
hand and readjusted her bags as a younger couple embraced from the chill in the
air. Sighing, she wondered why, when there were so many people in the world,
her family had to be taken away. The thought saddened her, but the pain did not
linger as it had a month ago.  It helped, she admitted to herself, that her
memories of them were so obscured that it was almost as if they had never
existed at all.  She simultaneously damned and thanked the fire for that.

Another breeze made her shiver and,
squeezing her eyes tight, she shoved her hands into her pockets. When she
opened them again they locked with a man standing across the street, and she
froze with disbelief.

Wind sailed down the street and
grabbed his trench coat, whipping it behind him and setting his sun blond hair
alight. His black clothing melted into the night around him as he stared eerily
back at her. The crowd about him moved with the crossing signal, but he
remained, motionless, as a fray of papers flew past. Had she seen right? The
swept up debris passed right through him. His eyes, dark and shining, held her,
beckoning to her, and she broke her paralysis, taking a step toward him.
Without thinking, she took another, stepping down from the curb.

The scream of a horn shattered her
trance as she was wrenched backward with a force strong enough to knock the
wind from her.  She next found herself splayed out onto the sidewalk in Mona's
lap surrounded by shocked onlookers.

"What the hell are you doing?
You can't just walk out into traffic, you'll get yourself killed!" Mona's
words faded as Sophie scrambled to her knees and watched the bus race by. Her
heart fluttered and shot up into her throat as she realized a moment earlier
she was in front of it, but that quickly left her mind as she waited the
eternity for it to pass. Her breaths came heavy and short, perspiration forming
on her brow despite the chill, until the opposite side of the street was
revealed, the crowd dispersed, and the man gone.

"God," Mona sat up,
breathless and mumbling, "I can't believe you'd do something so stupid.
Naomi would have my head if anything happened to you." The voice, though
just behind her, was like a distant call across a field. Sophie was grounded to
the spot, searching the opposing corner frantically. Where had he gone? A lump
formed in Sophie’s throat and she opened her mouth to call to him but choked on
the words, reaching out a silent hand in the name’s stead.

Then a small hand encased her wrist
and brought her back to the moment. Mona was there, that was right, and she was
staring at Sophie with a different set of eyes.  Eyes that were almost kind.
"Are you all right?"

Sophie blinked back at her. Could
she really say? She glanced down at where Mona was touching her arm.

Mona pulled her hand back,
"Did you just see somebody piss in the street or something?" she asked
with a snort.

"No."

"Then what?"

Sophie shook her head, stuffing her
hands in the pockets of her jacket, "Nothing. It's crazy, really."

"I know it’s crazy," Mona
scratched at her head, "You nearly got yourself ran over for it. So tell
me in case you need to be on meds or something."

Sophie swallowed and she looked
back to where he had been. Maybe she did need medication. "I saw
Eric," she paused and took in a breath, "I know it's impossible, but
I swear I just saw my brother." Mona's gaze shot across the street, but
Sophie did not notice, his face running through her mind, "But that's
crazy, isn't it?"

Mona was quiet, her face concealed
behind a curtain of hair.

"Yeah," Sophie glanced
once more at where he formerly stood, "That's what I thought."

Silence hung between the two as
they peered at nothing, imagining he would show himself again. When he did not,
Mona turned to Sophie, her face a little softer, "Come on, let's go."

 

Chapter 2

 

Mona squeezed them through the
entryway to the club, a tight grasp on Sophie's wrist, maneuvering between
bodies already packed tightly together. The crowd was lit in a pale blue every
now and again as lights pulsed with the music, a throaty voice and a barrage of
electronic sounds. Sophie was impressed with her cousin; the large man at the
door had taken one look at Mona and let them pass ahead of the line outside,
much to the group's dismay. It was a very specific crowd, she noted, and was
glad to be taken directly to the back of the space into a dark corner.

Mona pulled her close to compensate
for the noise, "I want you to meet my friends." She brought her to a
small table and Sophie was shocked to meet the three before them, all at least
as old as she, if not older. She was not shocked, however, to see them dressed
in the same fashion as Mona; dark colors and heavy make-up.

Danielle, a chocolate-skinned woman
with shocking pink dyed hair, offered her hand first. She excitedly introduced
herself with a toothy grin and Sophie felt immediately drawn to her, as if
electricity shot through their hands when they touched. "Wow!"
Danielle exclaimed, looking down at her own hand, her jaw hanging lax in
amazement, "Looks like we’ve got some chemistry, eh?"

"It’s static, you idiot,"
a dark-haired woman at her side pushed her out of the way and took Sophie’s
hand, "Rose.  And this is my brother, Simon." The third in the group
lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Both had hair like a raven’s feathers,
striking against white skin, and icy, sunken eyes with matching, soft features
and thin lips that naturally fell into frowns.

"And I'm Michael," a
voice purred from behind Sophie. She suddenly felt his presence and spun to
meet two dark eyes. A thick brow lowered above them and thin lips curled from
below a perfectly pointed nose, "It's a pleasure to meet you." His
cinnamon skin pulsed with the strobe light below and his lips glistened,
"Mona failed to inform us of how beautiful you are."

Sophie felt the blood rush to her
face and realized she hadn't broken their gaze yet. She forced herself to look
away as Danielle giggled behind her.

The laughing girl broke in,
"Hey, Sophie, you wanna drink?"

Sophie turned and was immediately
offered a glass with pink liquid. Before she even thought about reaching for
it, Mona intervened. "No, she doesn't want a drink," came out cattily
as she pushed Danielle's hand away, giving her a stern look. Danielle stuck her
tongue out then laughed heartily, throwing the liquid back herself then draped
her body across a static Simon, biting at his ear.

Sophie turned back to Michael, his
full height now, an entire head and shoulders above her. He adorned more
conservative clothing than the others and no makeup, but he exuded his own kind
of darkness. He smiled from one side of his mouth and lifted a brow, silently
beckoning her closer, and she thoughtlessly moved toward him. He smiled fully,
"How dare you not bring her here sooner, Mona," his deep brown eyes
never left hers, "This place has been in need of a pretty face."

Sophie didn't see as Mona rolled
her eyes behind a short curtain of hair. Danielle decided to answer for her,
pulling herself up onto the table and kicking her legs out behind her,
"Duh, Michael," she knocked a glass to the floor and it shattered,
the sound lost instantly, "The girl's whole family just died! Meeting
someone like you, as insensitive and lecherous as you are, would never help
that!" She rolled off the table and onto Mona, "Right?"

Mona pushed her away from the group
as Rose squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose in embarrassment,
Simon quick to follow suit. A kind of hurt rolled around inside Sophie and she
thought she should want to run and hide from the words, from the club, from the
entire city, but Michael's gaze was locked on her, and she couldn't look away.

He seemed to peer deeper into her,
and she felt he could read the thoughts running through her head. Whatever
humiliation that began to build up within her was leaving with force, replaced
with something she couldn't place. Michael's face took on a somber frown as in apology
for his foolhardy friend, but Sophie sent him a reassuring smile. They suddenly
didn't matter: her parents, Mona, Danielle, even Eric disappeared for a moment
and were replaced with Michael's unforgiving bone structure.

"Forget about her," he
said as if he read her mind, "She's the insensitive one," he paused,
"And wasted. You'll have a much better time with me anyway." He slid
his arm into the small of her back and pulled her slightly closer to the dance
floor.

Sophie then realized she hadn't
said a single word to Michael all this time. And, although she didn't hate the
idea of his hand on her back, she thought it right to protest, but the right
words didn't seem to come, "Well, I bet she's not the lecherous one."

Sophie was shocked with herself, but
whether it was at the insult or the sultry tone she had recited it in, she
wasn't sure. Michael only laughed and removed his hand, his fingertips hovering
at her hip, "She can be," he peered at Simon who now seemed to be
protectively leaned on by his sister. Rose sneered at Michael while Simon
subtly smirked. But Sophie only noticed Michael's lack of defense for himself.

The music changed to a screeching
woman and a heavy bass making Sophie cringe. Trying to ignore it, she asked,
"And how would you know?" with the same seductive air. Somehow she
kept her hand from rushing to her mouth.

"I've only heard
stories," he assured her and wordlessly lead her away from the others into
a tightly packed crowd. Michael's voice trailed off as if other thoughts were
flooding his mind. Suddenly, Sophie realized she was walking and bumped into
his chest. She quickly jumped back not knowing how it had happened, but was
just as quickly pushed forward.

She turned to see a boy emerge from
the shadows grasping at his throat and coughing dramatically. He looked at her,
horrified, and reached out with pleading eyes. Sophie was frozen. She wanted to
reach back, grab him and flee, but she couldn't escape her own fear.

Another figure appeared behind him,
a gorgeous woman with a sensual grin. She slid her hand down his outstretched
arm and entwined their fingers. As he peered back at her, the terrified look on
his face sank away. She moved like a snake with the rhythm of the music and his
eyes locked with hers as he spun into her. Silently she led him back into the
shadows and they disappeared.

Two strong hands fell on Sophie's
shoulders and Michael's voice whispered in her ear, "Kid's having a bad
trip," his voice was raspy and she could feel it vibrate on the back of
her neck. Her eyelids became heavy as she remembered how hard his chest had
been when she bumped into him, "Let's get out of this mess. The roof's
usually empty."

She sighed in approval and let
herself be led up a metallic set of spiraling stairs to a long landing full of
writhing bodies. She was thankful when they ventured up another small, enclosed
stairwell and he opened a door to the outside.

The cool breeze swept in on her and
she shivered, but hurried into it. Anything was better than the smell of
alcohol and the flood of bodies inside. The music pulsed below their feet and
the sounds of the city just reached where the two were. Michael had been right,
the rooftop was strangely vacant.

She noticed just how graceful he
was on his feet, as if he floated when he walked past her. "The view from
here is wonderful," he remarked sauntering to the railing at the roof's
edge. He grasped it and leaned out, dangling dangerously over the city below.

Sophie hesitated in making her way
to Michael. She didn’t care for heights and wondered why she didn't protest at
his offer earlier. He leaned out even further and her heart jumped, thoughts of
staring out the window in the apartment rushing back at her.

"Oh, Mona!" Sophie gasped
turning toward the door, "I completely forgot I was here with her! I'm so
rude."

"Don't worry about it,"
Michael shouted back, practically hanging upside down over the railing,
"She's probably busy yelling at Danielle, or holding her hair while she
vomits."

Sophie looked back at him then
quickly snapped her head back to the door.

"What? You can't feel that bad
about it."

"No, it's not that."
Sophie shivered.

"Cold?" he asked.

She chewed her bottom lip; he
noticed the slightest of her movements, "No, I just can't...can't look at
you."

"Oh, come on," he flipped
back up and his dark hair rested on the back of his neck, "I can't be that
hideous!"

She turned slightly, her eyes cast
down, and chuckled. He was far better looking than any man she’d seen in recent
memory, but she stifled that comment, "What you were doing. It made me
nervous. I don't really like heights."

"Don't really like? You mean
you're afraid of heights," he teased leaving the rail to go to her,
"You shouldn't fear anything," he reached his hand out toward her.

Sophie paused. She wanted to take
it, but knew he would pull her to the edge.

"But fear keeps us from
doing...stupid things," she ventured cautiously, trying to keep from
offending him.

"Fear only holds you back from
doing the things you want to do. It just keeps you from experiences you'll
regret missing out on later." He dropped his hand and stood before her,
"I know what you want to do is go right to that rail and peer over the
edge."

The beating in Sophie's chest
quickened.

"And the reason your heart
races," he said as if knowing just what went on inside her, "Is
because you want to more than anything else."

"Do you really think so?"
she asked trancelike.

"Fear," he said
confidently, "Would have kept me from talking to you."

Tiny bubbles in her chest seemed to
tickle her insides, and she couldn't help but smile. His hand found the small
of her back again. She pushed back on it as if to stay in the spot. "You
can trust me," he said softly, staring toward the edge.

The chill air left her and the warm
feeling returned as they made their way over. Suddenly, peering down the few
stories didn't seem so bad. In fact, it seemed almost nice to be up so high.

Lights, red and white, raced below,
illuminating the shadowed ants milling about the walks. She felt powerful to be
up so high, above them all. But to get over a fear so quickly? Sophie wondered
who exactly Michael was and turned to him, "How do you know Mona?"

"Naomi," he said simply,
"She owns Lamia."

"Yeah, but it's a little weird
isn't it? You must be twenty something and she's barely fifteen."

"You're here with her,"
he said pretentiously.

"I'm her cousin." Sophie
felt his hand move further around her body.

Michael shrugged with a far off
look, "She's more mature than the rest of them."

Sophie assumed he meant the other
three, "This just doesn't seem like the place she should be. Or I should
be. My aunt and uncle, they just treat her so...grown up. Just like you guys. I
guess I just don't know her very well."

"She's no child," Michael
stared out at the city, past the lights and beyond, "She's been through
more than most of us. In fact, I'm surprised she's stuck around this
long." He looked back to her, a sarcastic smile on his face. Sophie
couldn't understand what he meant, but understood its importance.

"Well, I hope she sticks
around a little longer, I'd like to get to know her," Sophie sighed,
"But I don't think she likes me very much." She moved away from the
edge solemnly and walked over to a metal box housing a large fan and sat;
Mona's boots were butchering her feet.

"Really?" Michael
followed, "She's always so kind, though. I'd think you two would get along
well." He sat beside her and, despite the space, moved as close to her as
possible.

"Well, we don't," Sophie
unzipped the boots and heaved a sigh, wanting to change the subject,
"These shoes kill."

"But they look good on you.”

Sophie looked at him and pursed her
lips together, "Stop it."

"I'm only speaking the
truth," he purred, "And you smell wonderful."

Sophie remembered when Mona applied
the heavy makeup to her she had dabbed a kind of perfume to her neck, but made
no remarks. Sophie had tried desperately, but couldn't smell a thing. Perhaps
it was just working now.

"Thank you," she blushed,
"But normally I don't look like this at all. If it were up to me I’d be in
a pink t-shirt and jeans."

"I like pink," he grinned
stupidly and she couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm glad Mona made me change
or I wouldn't have fit in at all."

"You still don't fit in,"
he commented with the stupid grin intact, but she was hurt and looked away.
"You’re naive and innocent," he reached out to her face and drew it
up to his, "Consider yourself lucky to not fit in, to not be like them.
Like me. You're better than that."

The wind picked up and blew her
messy flaxen waves across her face. He moved them away as his own dark mane
alighted and swept to one side. Smiling contentedly, she began to lean toward
him despite herself. Control of her body was gone as his hand caressed her face
and his lips came closer.

Then he stopped. Sophie felt
herself come back when he looked away and toward the adjacent building. He
stood suddenly and she felt more than a little dizzy, steadying herself against
the seat with her hands. Then, the door to the club opened behind them with a
metallic crash. They both looked to see Mona, panting as if she had been in a
hurry to get to them. Her chest heaved as she spoke, "Come on, Sophie,
let's get going."

"Home?" she asked,
re-zipping the boots.

BOOK: The Nephilim: Book One
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