The Magic Number

by Natalie Gibson

  With her healing ability so focused on another, it could not attack the baby she carried. Nanae could relax his guard a little, and when he did, he fell asleep. When he made a whimpering noise, Camilla looked up from her work. Israel was snuggled with him in a love seat, their legs tangled on the extra wide footrest. Izzy smiled at Camilla. Neither had ever seen the Nephilim sleep. Months now they’d been together, and he’d never been able to let his guard down enough. Camilla gestured with her head that the male couple should go lay in the third bedroom.

  Izzy raised one eyebrow at her, as if to say, Seriously?! Then he actually thought about it. He looked at the sleeping giant and wondered if he could carry the much larger man. Nanae had said that, as a Lilitu, Izzy held a portion of the Nephilim’s power. He could move quickly now, even found it impossible not to if he lost concentration. He was also stronger, but not sure how much he could lift.

  Camilla watched as Izzy decided to try it. He carefully pried himself away, extricating his legs from the knot they’d formed with Nanae’s. He stood next to the chair and looked down at his own body. Israel had never been big, but he was muscular and completely lacking in body fat. Every muscle was visible beneath the tan skin of his chest and stomach. Camilla’s two men matched, both shirtless expanses of masculine meat that called out for her touch. Shoeless with skin-tight black jeans, they both looked so sexy that for a minute, Camilla lost herself in fantasy.

  Izzy bent down, slipping one arm under Nanae’s knees and the other around his wide shoulders. He took a deep breath and pushed it out as he strained to lift the man twice his weight. He let out a little gasp when he tossed Nanae a foot farther than he needed to. Nanae fell back into Israel’s arms, and Izzy found him easy to handle. Nanae’s head rolled to rest on Israel’s shoulder. Their Guardian never stirred.

  Izzy shrugged at Camilla, both a little shocked he had the strength. Camilla smiled and crossed the room to open the door. It took her longer than she would have liked to stand from the chair. Pregnancy made her unbalanced. Izzy stood patiently and waited as if he wasn’t holding four hundred pounds of dead weight.

  Camilla watched, her head poked out of the door, until Izzy had Nanae in bed. They said good night to each other and then closed their separate doors. Camilla got back to work. She needed to stay focused on Tommy if Nanae wasn’t going to be around for a while.

  She did not notice the sun coming up. The door opened. Her father’s voice startled her. “You did it.”

  She looked up to find the old man looking down at her and her brother. He had tears running down his sunken, wrinkled cheeks. Clearly the worry over his son had aged him.

  She stood, stretching. She went to the small coffee making station each bedroom contained and put an individual serving cup into the fancy machine. She closed the lid, piercing the top of the cup. The smell of coffee soothed her nerves but only after her first sip did she speak. “I’m not done, but he won’t die. Not from this.”

  Camilla walked back to stand next to her father. They stood there gazing at the sleeping boy, and her dad slipped his frail arm around her and squeezed ever so slightly. She rested her paper coffee cup on her protruding belly. He wanted to tell her that caffeine was bad for the fetus, but he held his tongue. She was an adult; she’d grown up while she was away. He side-hugged her again. Besides, she was a healer. If she could cure end-stage cancer, she could certainly protect her unborn from a little increased heart rate.

  There was something he needed to tell her, though he didn’t relish the conversation. “Israel is the father. Will he marry you?”

  Camilla’s mood switched. She pushed his arm off her shoulders and left his side to stand on the opposite side of the bed. Religion. He was about to give her the morals speech about doing what was right for her baby. Her eyes narrowed. “We already consider ourselves a family, Daddy.” She said it through a tightened jaw, and the last word held all kinds of accusations.

  “You misunderstand. I know I have no right to question you. I gave that up when I let your mother push you away. She said it was best for everyone, you included, but I should have kept in touch… But, that’s another conversation.” He looked embarrassed and dropped his eyes to the floor. “He’s not right for you.”

  Exasperated, Camilla tried to end the conversation. “We love each other, and I think I’m the only one who can say who’s right for me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that you love him, but he can’t love you. Camilla, he’s a gay.”

  Camilla did a spit take, brown coffee spotting the white blanket covering Tommy. Dad continued, “I’m not just being paranoid. When I woke up this morning, I came to find Tommy and opened the wrong door. I saw them. They were…naked…in bed…having…making the beast with two backs.” He rubbed his eyes as if he could wipe away the image burned there. “Camilla, there’s sin,” he gestured toward her tummy, “and then there’s sin. Even God loves a bastard baby and can forgive its parents if they confess and repent, but what they were doing… I’m sorry, honey, but that’s unforgivable. It’s an abomination.”

  Camilla laughed at him. He bunched his fists at his sides. When he opened his mouth to continue, Camilla interrupted him. Though her tone said otherwise, she said, “I appreciate your concern, but taking it in the ass is no sin, even if you are a man.” His mouth dropped open at her coarse language. “There is only one sin in this world. You wouldn’t understand if I told you, so I’ll save my breath. I will tell you that Israel, Raphael, and I all love each other. We are together in every sense of the word. This,” she rubbed her tummy, “is our baby, and the three of us will raise it without the bigotry and ignorance that plagued Tommy’s childhood.”

  There was movement in the doorway, and her dad spun to find the two men in question standing in the open door. Both looked angry. Didn’t a father have more of a right to be angry with the two men conning his daughter than they had? They blocked the doorway, seemingly waiting for something.

  Camilla said, “My father needs some fresh air. Izzy, can you show him to the balcony?” Once her dad was gone, Camilla asked, “Nanae, can you take a look at Tommy and tell me what you think?”

  He approached the bed, cautious that she might be more upset than she let on. No one wants their father to think badly about them or the people they love. “I can make him forget, if you’d like.”

  Camilla looked confused for a second before realizing who he was talking about. She shook her head. “No. Daddy just needs some time to think some things through. He needs the memory of what he saw and what I said. He’ll come around once he sees us all together and when he sees how happy, healthy, and well-loved our baby is.” She tipped her chin to her brother. “What do you think?”

  Nanae looked. The boy was getting better. He would be awake in a matter of hours, probably feeling better than he had in years. “He’ll live.”

  “And our son?”

  Nanae was beside her in an instant. His hand was warm and nearly covered her entire distended torso. “Heartbeat and blood pressure are good. He seems very content to stay where he belongs. Your ability caused him no trouble last night.”

  “Good. I was a little worried. I don’t think I’ve felt him move since we landed yesterday.” She put her hand on top of his. It looked like a child’s in comparison.

  “He sleeps. This is a break for him. A night away from the Capacitors means he can grow at a steadier, more normal rate.”

  Camilla’s shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch in relief. “I’m glad you got to rest too. You need a break as much as he does.”

  Nephilim didn’t need much sleep, but when it was not an option for months at a time, it could get exhausting. He didn’t want to say it, but this little boy’s sickness was just what Nanae needed. Now he could easily make it through the rest of this pregnancy. “I am rested and fed. Now it is your turn.”

  The shower was huge, and with her two men to do all the lathering, it was also heavenly. She could still feel Izzy’s fingers massag
ing her scalp while she toweled dry. Izzy and Nanae were drying off but still naked when the doorbell rang. Camilla had on her plush robe, so she volunteered to get the room service. She was the one of the three who’d be eating the food anyway.

  Tommy and Dad’s door was closed. Maybe the bell only rang in the master bedroom. Camilla swung open one side of the double door, and none other than the devil herself strode in.

  “What the hell did you do with my Tommy, you baby killer?” Her words were so slurred that it came out as one long word. Camilla understood her. Practice makes perfect.

  It had been seven years since she’d seen her mom, and time had not been kind. Or maybe it was the vodka that had been unkind. Either way, her mother looked like shit. It was just past eight in the morning, and she was already drunk. Or still drunk, who knew. Her eyes, crazy from drink and anger, roamed all over, never really focusing on anything. Her hair had not been washed in quite some time and was pulled back into a very greasy ponytail that had more gray than color. Her skin had a yellow look—a sign that her drinking had advanced her expiration date. Camilla gave her mother’s liver a month, maybe.

  Camilla’s mother hadn’t shouted her question and insult, but it was loud enough for Nanae to hear. He came barreling out of the bedroom in nothing but a towel. He had her by her throat before her eyes could even focus. “I want to kill you.” He pressed the mother of his Sinnis against the wall close to where Camilla still stood in the foyer with the door in her hand.

  Camilla closed the door with a shove, never moving her feet. “Beast, how good to see you again. Let me introduce my mother. Hers is the neck your mitts are wrapped around. It won’t hurt me if you kill her, so if that’s your intention, you’re wasting your time.”

  “I would drain you now if I didn’t think your blood would curdle in my stomach.”

  When she heard his voice again, she realized this was not the Beast at all, but Nanae who wanted to kill her mother. “Raphe, let her down. She just needs to see that Tommy is all right, and then she’ll leave. I’m sure she’s got a bottle of Gordon’s down in the car that’s just calling her name.”

  Nanae kept her pinned. He wasn’t choking her, but the way her venomous stare went to Camilla when she mentioned her alcohol issue made him want to. “If you ever speak to Camilla like that again, I will kill you.” He smiled at her, allowing his incisors to lengthen. He let her see the flames in his eyes. It didn’t matter if she knew what he was. She was a drunk, a reject of society, and no one would believe a word she said.

  Israel handed Nanae a pair of pants. “And I will help him.” He crossed to Camilla after having locked eyes with her mother. He hugged his baby momma and kissed the top of her head.

  Camilla’s mother stared at them for a moment before she took it all in—her pregnant daughter, hair wet from the shower she’d obviously shared with these two men so ready to kill for her. A look of disgust crossed her face. Her nose wrinkled, and her top lip lifted in a snarl. She wanted to say something, but Nanae’s growl stopped her.

  Nanae couldn’t help but growl. That pathetic excuse for a human was thinking of insulting his Sinnis again, in his presence, after he’d warned her not to. She couldn’t be very smart. He slipped his legs into the pants one at a time, pulling them up under his towel. He didn’t bother with underwear. He fastened the five buttons of his fly and tossed the towel on the ground.

  Nanae grabbed Camilla’s mother’s forearm and pulled her to one of the bedroom doors. He opened it to reveal a scene she never thought she’d see again. Her son was jumping on the bed, laughing. Jumping and laughing. When he saw her, he stopped. He quickly sat on the edge of the bed. Roy Brewster, Camilla’s father, stood up, “Linda—”

  “Shut up. How dare you take my kid outta the hospital! Tommy, come on, I’m takin ya back.” Linda Brewster went to grab little Tommy’s arm, but Roy slapped it away.

  “You’re drunk. You’re not thinking clearly. Tommy is fine right where he is.”

  “Yeah, Momma, Milla made me all better. She says I don’t have to go back to the hospital.” It was the first time Nanae and Izzy had heard him speak. Tom’s voice sounded small. Scared.

  “She said, huh? Your sister’s a—she can’t—doesn’t—” Linda searched for a response that wouldn’t get her killed. “She said! I’m your mother, and what I say goes. I say you are going back to the hospital right this minute.” She spun toward the room where her daughter and her two lovers were and threatened them. “I will go to the police, and they’ll come here and arrest all of you for kidnapping.”

  Camilla was sitting on the couch. She closed her eyes as the lanky brunette male model brushed out her wet hair and laughed at Linda. The man spoke with contempt in his voice. “You do that. It’d solve our problems for at least twelve hours. They’d throw you in the drunk tank and impound your car. I can’t believe you’re so sloshed that you didn’t think of that.”

  Still staring at the couple on the couch, Linda backed toward the foyer. With her hand behind her, she searched for the doorknob and closed around something much more fleshy. She let go and turned around, losing her balance as the room spun. Nanae, who had appeared between her and the exit, caught her before she fell. He tossed the inebriated woman over his shoulder. Deaf to her protests, he dumped her on the bed in the extra room and closed the door. Her cursing stopped shortly after.

  She’d found the mini bar. Mercifully, no one said it aloud.

  “I’m sorry,” Roy said. “She called my cell when you all were showering. I had to tell her where Tommy was. She came unhinged when I told her that Camilla was here. I thought she was too drunk to do anything. I thought she’d sleep it off. I didn’t think she would actually drive over here.”

  “It’s okay, Daddy. You didn’t know.”

  “What I didn’t know could fill a library. I’m sorry, Camilla. For a lot of things. Israel told me—about your healing ability, your work with the Daughters, your suffering because of what that ability means for you. And about Momma…the baby clothes…”

  His father’s voice drifted off, but Tommy’s interest was piqued. Something significant was happening to his family, but he didn’t understand what. Roy came and helped Camilla stand. He hugged her. Tommy ran over and joined the family hug while Linda murmured beyond the closed door.

  “Let me go get dressed, and I’ll come in your room to finish up. We’ll have you better and headed home in no time.”

  “Can I play the Xbox while you doctor me?”

  Camilla ruffled his hair. “Sure, big guy. Whatever you want.”

  TOMMY SLEPT on the big bed on top of the covers. He’d fallen asleep while Camilla healed not only the disease, but the damage the disease left behind. Now that she was finished with him, he was the most perfectly healthy ten-year-old specimen on earth. She backed out of the room, watching him sleep until the door’s edge met the doorframe. She pulled it closed while keeping the knob turned so the click wasn’t very loud when the seal was made.

  She stepped back, and her foot slipped. Large, strong arms kept her from falling, and she leaned back into the supportive chest. He slipped a heavy blanket over her shoulders. His hands were working on some type of fastening at her belly, and it clicked as it tightened. She looked down.

  The vest now locked to her chest and stomach was unfamiliar, but Camilla recognized it. The wires, lights, and blocks of soft putty marked it as a bomb. She didn’t bother to scream. Instead, she turned to see who had outfitted her with such horrific attire.

  There were a half dozen men standing in the common room of their suite. Their casual dress said civilian, but their stance screamed military. Some she recognized from the attack on the compound. All of the men who’d stolen Nanae’s blood were there. The man who’d strapped her into the bomb vest was the one who had done the actual stealing. He handed her a phone and pushed the speaker button. She held it out in front of her.

  “Hello,” said a voice on the other end. “I can see and hear everyth
ing that happens in that room. I also have the detonator to the lovely vest you’re wearing. If at any time I don’t like what I see, all I have to do is push a button. I am safely away and have no qualms about killing. Test me, and you and your bastard spawn will be jelly, understand?”

  Camilla nodded.

  “Then you better make sure your Guardian does too. Where is he?”

  Camilla pointed. Right on cue, the bedroom door opened, and Nanae filled the space. He didn’t speak. He grabbed the man nearest him, lifted him up, and brought him down sharply. A large crack sounded. Nanae had snapped the man’s spine across his knee like a twig. He tossed the man out the window like a used tissue. He screamed as he fell.

  Every gun in the room was pointed at Nanae. Nanae disappeared and then materialized behind another man. He reached out and snaked his arm around the gunman’s neck. Guns cocked all around her. “Don’t hurt him,” Camilla begged.

  “We won’t, sweet Camilla, as long as he does exactly what we say.” They actually thought she was begging them, when she was asking Nanae to have mercy. “I’ll give you a free pass on the first kill. I’ll chalk it up to surprise. It will be the only one.”

  The voice coming from the phone had a familiar accent. The speaker was from Texas, if Camilla had to guess. She spoke to the phone. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “No, I know.” Three men split, and one headed to each bedroom. That left one each with Camilla and Nanae. She looked up at him, and the voice said, “Don’t even think about it. They’re not going to hurt your family. Christ, we’re not monsters. But the blast’ll kill everyone on the floor, so if you do something stupid, they will die.”

  Camilla nodded again, but she was mad. She watched as one of the men carefully opened the door to Tommy’s room. He looked around, checking the closets and any place a person could hide. He came out, closing the door behind him. He spoke into the phone. He leaned in so close to Camilla’s face that she could smell his breath when he talked. “Just the kid. He’s sleeping.”