“Is that all you ever think about?”
He gave her a roguish grin. His green eyes lit with mischief, and he crooked his finger at her. “You know you love it. Come here.”
Instead of responding, Al-Kenna lifted one of her books and began reading. “‘Created as angels to be assistants of God, they were the most powerful of God’s creations.’” She paused and glanced up at Jesse. “You’d think all that power would have been taken from them as soon as they turned against God. ‘Their power twisted into something else,’” she resumed reading. “‘Something dark. Something sinister, evil and unnatural. While The Nephilim reigned on earth, they fed on humans, hating man for God’s love of them.’”
“Just stop, Al. I can’t take any more.” Jesse closed the book he was holding to emphasize his point. He stretched his legs out before him and leaned against the bookshelf.
Again, Al-Kenna was startled by how tall Jesse had grown in the last few years. Five years ago, when he’d been fifteen, he’d barely been an inch taller than her. Now, at twenty, he towered head and shoulders over her. His face had developed, too. Gone were the pudgy cheeks and round face. Jesse’s face had streamlined when she hadn’t been paying attention. His boyish features had developed into those of a man, a very attractive man. His lips had firmed, his eyes grown serious, and somewhere along the line, he’d acquired the proud stance of an Ikari man. His body had changed, too. Now, his frame was heavy with muscle. He would have made a great warrior, had he been born immortal.
“You can go. I can do this alone, you know,” she told him.
“I don’t want to go and you know it. Not now, when there’s no chance of the Warlord hovering around and telling me to back off. Come on, just one kiss.”
“I kissed you yesterday by the lake.”
He smiled. “And I want a kiss today, in the archives.” He brought his knees up, rested his elbows on them, and stared at her. “Come on.” He puckered. “One kiss.”
“Reading first, kissing later. You promised.”
“Only if you put my dick in your mouth, too, and suck on it the way I showed you.”
Al-Kenna grimaced. She remembered well that first time she’d let herself be talked into getting down on her knees and putting the hard, protruding mass of flesh that hovered in Jesse’s open britches into her mouth. Too, she remembered how Jesse had moaned and groaned once she got the hang of the sucking motion and stopped scraping him with her teeth. The feeling of power she’d experienced wasn’t unpleasant. She’d felt like Jesse was completely at her mercy and she enjoyed that. What she didn’t enjoy, however, was the eruption of sticky goop that suddenly filled her mouth toward the end.
“Just kissing,” she said. “You promised.”
He let his head drop against the shelf and groaned. “Then, let’s get on with it.”
“What really interests me is how the Nephilim got on with the Watchers. You know Raven is a Watcher. So is Azriel. The Nephilim and Watchers were both created as angels, and both came to live on the earth. Don’t you think there would have been strife between them?”
“Why?”
“They fought on opposing sides during the Great War. The Watchers had a hand in ousting the Nephilim from heaven with Lucifer.”
“But when the Watchers came to earth, it was for sex. Having sex with human females wouldn’t interrupt anything the Nephilim were doing. If I were a Nephilim, I wouldn’t start a fight with Watchers knowing they just might kick my ass again.” Jesse smiled. “Mmm, why don’t we have sex, Al? Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Al-Kenna frowned. It didn’t sound like fun to her. It sounded stupid. “To leave paradise because you want to have sex is asinine,” she said. “And to think of these fallen angels taking on human forms as casually as we put on pants makes my skin crawl.” They’d always made themselves beautiful, irresistible even, and always the women fell prey to them, not knowing they were sharing their bodies with demons. The Watchers deserved to be punished.”
“According to the book I was reading,” Jesse said, “the Nephilim and Watchers got along just fine.”
“Where? Show me.”
Giving Al-Kenna a pained look, he hefted his book, opened it, and began paging through it. “I don’t remember exactly where…”
“Be careful with that. These books are priceless.”
Jesse pursed his lips in concentration. “I know I read it somewhere in this tome. Oh, here it is.” He glanced up. Al-Kenna nodded for him to go on. “Okay,” Jesse said. “There’s a lot of stuff here.”
“Just tell me what it says.”
Jesse began reading aloud, abridging the text as he saw fit. “The Watchers and Nephilim lived side by side in peace for millennia. Then, something happened. Let’s see. The Watchers pissed God off when they started teaching humans magic. And having sex with animals. God, who up until then was perfectly happy to let things unfold without any interjections on His part whatever, took action. God sent the flood—the Biblical flood, mind you—and destroyed the hybrid children the Watchers had fathered.” He broke off. “You know, I always thought the flood was sent because of man’s sins, not because of angelic sins. Least, that’s what Father Caleb always taught us.”
“What does it say next?”
“Okay, let’s see. The Watchers watched helplessly as their offspring were drowned in the flood, blah blah blah, and God imprisoned The Watchers in the outer darkness of Dudael below the Arabian Dessert.” He looked at Al-Kenna. “Happy?”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Haven’t we always been taught the werewolves and vampires are the direct offspring of Watchers? If all Watcher offspring died in the flood, why are there still vamps and were-creatures running around?”
“Oh, I skipped that part. Some vamps and beastmen can shapeshift.”
“I know that. For crying out loud, every human who’s ever read Dracula knows that.”
Jesse held up a hand for silence. “Let me finish. The surviving vamps and beastmen survived because they could shapeshift. Not just from man to beast, but from man to beast and…” he looked up from the page again, frowning. “They can shift into their spirit form. Like mist.”
Al-Kenna didn’t move. “Vampires, too?”
“Yeah. That’s why they were able to survive. They took on their spirit form and hovered above the floodwaters.”
Al-Kenna set aside the scroll she’d been looking at moments earlier and came to sit beside Jesse. The two stared at each other. Al-Kenna saw gooseflesh spreading across Jesse’s arms.
“You know what that means, then,” Al-Kenna said.
“They could go anywhere, pass under any doorway, through any crevice, and no one would know. They could come here, even. Who would know?”
“Who’s to say they haven’t? But I’m sure The Council knows about this. There has to be some form of protection in place. The Council would never let something like this go unchecked. The sorcerers...”
“The sorcerers were a lot of help keeping the ghouls out this morning.”
Al-Kenna worried her lip. “You’re right. This isn’t good, Jesse.” She hadn’t told Jesse what the ghoul had said to her. She hadn’t told anyone, but right now, she felt a sudden need to confess it all. Her strange dreams that she was an Egyptian hostage of an extraordinarily beautiful man. A man named Alaric the Cruel, the same Alaric who was Coven Lord of the Alliance.
She swallowed down her need to confess.
Sometimes, Al-Kenna wondered if the Seer alone was capable of dealing with situations with the emotional detachment necessary to see things through to a good end.
Jesse focused on the book again. “Here’s where things get real interesting. The beastmen and vampires were the only surviving offspring of The Watchers, right? So once the Watchers were imprisoned, the Nephilim, with their imp and ghoul offspring, enslaved the vamps and beastmen. This lasted until Myrddin’s arrival on the scene and his exile of the Nephilim to Hir na Gog. With the Nephilim gone, a war broke out between t
he immortals. It raged until the vamps and beastmen were able to push the imps below ground and into The Void. I can’t imagine any vampire or beastman accepting a Nephilim re-entry.”
It wasn’t a mystery to any Ikari that the Nephilim rule had been one of the darkest periods of earth’s history, a time so grim that nearly all record of it had been stripped from the earth. If history were any indicator of possible future events, Al-Kenna intended to do everything she could to make sure history didn’t repeat itself. Step one was convincing the Alliance to join with Ikarius.
“As long as Azriel doesn’t get his hands on the girl, the one the Seer calls Charity, all will be okay,” Jesse said.
“But if he does, we’re all screwed.”
“Interesting choice of words.” He let the book rest in his lap and leaned into Al-Kenna. “Now, what about that kiss?”
“You’re still thinking about kissing?”
“Mm-hmm. What can I say? Guess I’m single-minded.”
She was about to tell him she didn’t think it was such a good idea when he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She felt the gentle puffs of his peppermint-scented breath on her face as his breathing quickened. Her first impulse was to shove him away, but being alone with him did give her a thrill. It felt so taboo. “Just one kiss,” she said.
He pressed his lips to hers. The touch was tentative at first, unsure. But when she rested her hand on his thigh and leaned into him, she felt the arm around her waist tighten and his lips become more intent on their task. He opened his mouth and moaned against her lips. A tingle began in her stomach when she felt his tongue, moist and hot, glide along her lower lip. Instantly, she knew this kiss would be more serious than the quick peck they’d shared down by the lake yesterday.
She opened her mouth to him and he slid inside. Her tongue darted against his and the contact was electric. It sent a jolt of erotic heat through her. He moaned again and his arm tightened until she felt she was locked in a vice.
Slowly, he deepened the kiss.
Enjoying this new delight, she pressed closer to him and squeezed his thigh.
He moaned, stiffened, then pulled away. There was an evil glint in his eyes and she didn’t like the way he was smiling at her.
“What have you found out?” he asked, as though the kiss hadn’t happened.
“Why’d you stop?”
“We’re here to research, remember?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a jerk. Don’t expect me to kiss you again.” Al-Kenna got to her feet and trod across the coarse cement slabs of the floor. She crouched low to retrieve the other book she’d been reading. She studied the book before making a move to touch it. Then, steeling herself against the barrage of emotions that had assailed her earlier, she grabbed it from the floor and returned to Jesse. “I’m reading about Alaric.”
“The Vampire that heads up the Alliance?”
Al-Kenna nodded. “It’s the story of—you’ll love this—Alaric the Cruel and his one true love.” Still remembering her encounter with the ghoul this morning, she paused and took a breath before she said her name. “Smenkhare.” At Jesse’s confused look, Al-Kenna explained. “Alaric was born an Visigoth…a German barbarian. When he was a boy, probably fifteen or so, Alaric was recognized for his skill in battle. He could kill three times as many men as anyone else, and seemed somehow impervious to injury. Enemies who survived Visigoth raids told of the mad boy rider who was impervious to the strike of an arrow and dressed only in a loincloth. One survivor of such a raid claimed to have seen this boy menace howling as he rode down on his victim. Once he struck this victim down, he jumped from his horse and ripped the guy’s throat out with his bare teeth.”
Jesse shivered dramatically. “Doesn’t sound like a very nice guy, if you ask me.”
“He was a barbarian, Jesse. It was the only life he knew. Interesting fact, this whole throat-ripping thing happened before he became a vampire.”
“And you’re ready to run to him. You expect this barbarian to be reasonable?”
“Do you want to hear about him or not?”
Jesse shrugged. “Go on.”
“Sometime in 397 AD, it’s said Alaric began suffering from an ailment that made sunlight unbearable to him.” Al-Kenna looked up from the book. “Guess that’s when he was bitten. After that, he was only able to take part in night raids. About twelve years afterwards, the Visigoths invaded Rome. According to the book, this is where Alaric took the head of Marcus Ennius the Roman and rode off with his slave in tow. Her name was Smenkhare.”
“That’s an odd name for a Roman.”
“She wasn’t Roman, she was Egyptian…and beautiful. This book says no woman was her equal. Which is pretty much what they always say about beautiful women throughout history. The story says when Alaric saw her, he fell hopelessly in love with her. He murdered her master, cast her over his horse, and rode off with her. Since Alaric was by then the chief of his tribe, he took this slave as a spoil of war. Smenkhare fought Alaric, but she wasn’t a match for him. And once he had her, she was completely at his mercy.”
“I’d love to do that to you.”
Al-Kenna stared straight ahead but she didn’t see the archive room. A wide expanse of land flashed before her eyes, and a bright moon shone down from the heavens. She saw looming trees and a curving path set amidst large boulders lining a trail. The pounding hooves of a raven-haired steed kicked up heavily-trodden dirt. But the dark horse wasn’t the only one she saw. There were many horses. All of them were large, powerfully-built beasts that seemed specially made to carry the men who rode them. The men now spoke in loud voices in a foreign tongue she couldn’t understand.
When Al-Kenna spoke, her voice shook with the awe of what she was seeing. “She was terrified, but she still fought him.” Al-Kenna paused as the image of a small Egyptian woman came into view. The woman was lying on her stomach over the back of a horse while a hulking mass of a man sat behind her, holding her down. The female was like a rabid animal, kicking and screaming bloody murder. Al-Kenna couldn’t see the Egyptian’s face through her long hair, but she could see the man. Long strands of honey-blond hair streamed out behind him as he drove his horse forward. He was shirtless and a thin sheen of sweat glimmered on his chest. Other than the boots he wore, a loincloth was his only covering. The look of triumph on his face was unmistakable. “He rode holding her down with one hand. After a full night of riding in this fashion, her breasts were sore from being pressed against the horse and her stomach ached from the rough jostling of the hard ride. When Smenkhare realized her kicking and screaming didn’t faze her captor, she pressed her face into his thigh and bit him.” Al-Kenna smiled at the vision. “But as droplets of blood dripped from the wound, she heard him moan, felt the press of his hand against the back of her head as he pulled her into him and bade her bite him again. She knew then her captor was no ordinary man.
“Worst, the crimson fluid spilled into her mouth, wetting her tongue and making her body tingle.”
“All this is in the book?”
“She knew when she tasted his blood, when the ecstasy of it rolled over her tongue and filled her, that he wasn’t a man but a beast. He was an inhuman thing that would do unspeakable things to her if she didn’t free herself. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t escape.”
“Al? Shit, don’t tell me you’re having another vision. This is creepy as hell, you know that. I hate it when you do this.”
“Nights and nights, countless miles. Oh God, she was so lost. Everything she’d struggled for, what little happiness she managed to eke out was being snatched from her again. Again!” Al-Kenna shook her head, clearly confused.
“Al, come on, cut it out. ”
Al-Kenna paced. She didn’t remember when she’d gotten to her feet, but somehow that’s where she was. She knew she was scaring Jesse and she wanted to stop, but she couldn’t. The images flashed in her mind. Bright, technicolor images she was powerless to control.
&
nbsp; She brushed her hands over the leggings she wore and sniffed the air. “The smell of him was all over her. In her hair—he made her wear it down. His scent was on the flimsy skins he allowed her to wear. He was everywhere. After that first night, he let her ride upright in the saddle, but that didn’t help. She felt the heat of his breath on her neck, felt his chest rising and falling against her back as they rode. He was so big, so strong. His thighs were pressed against the back of her legs. She felt every muscle contraction, every movement he made. And she wanted him.”
Jesse leapt to his feet and grabbed Al-Kenna by the hand. With a harsh yank, he jerked her round to face him. “Stop it, Al. I hate this. I hate it when you do this.”
“When her father gave her away, treated her as though she were a thing and not his own flesh, she swore to herself she’d never love another male. Marcus could claim her body, but he would never have her soul…but Alaric did.” Mouth opened and poised for speech, Al-Kenna met Jesse’s gaze. “Every night before daybreak, they’d make camp. Alaric’s men would set up an elaborate shelter in a secluded area for him, and he’d take her there and lie with her.” She closed her eyes and wobbled on her feet. Jesse tightened his hold and Al-Kenna steadied again. “The ecstasy. His blood was such a rich ecstasy. He always wanted to make love to her under the stars, and she always let him; then, they’d crawl into the shelter and sleep the entire day. He kidnapped her, but he wouldn’t take her sexually by force. Not when all he had to do was give her his blood. He’d pierce his tongue with a fang and let the blood come. While he slowly moved inside of her, he slid his tongue into her mouth and she sucked the crimson elixir from it and lost herself in the pleasure. He could do anything to her as long as he gave her his blood.”
Al-Kenna’s eyes flew open.
Jesse jumped back.
“I won’t let the Warlord keep me away from him,” Al-Kenna said angrily. “I won’t let anybody keep me away from him.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “Al, is that you?”
Nephilim War: Book 2 Page 8