Ishtar Anomaly (books of Sinnis)

by Gibson, Natalie

  Nanae, grateful Camilla was still out in the throws of her change and unable to feel, callously cut through her stomach from one side to the other going through her naval. He cut a perpendicular line, making her belly look like a bloody hot cross bun. Pulling the corners back on themselves, her abdomen blossomed. He hacked through skin, muscles and organs, without caution. He threw the knife to the side when he reached the uterus. Using his nail as a scalpel, he cut through the last remaining layer between her baby and the air. He pulled the boy free of it's liquid cocoon before it became his liquid grave.

  Nanae cleared the baby's mouth with his finger and gave him a little slap on the back. He did the mandatory trimming of the umbilical cord and tied it off in a way he knew would give the child an acceptable belly button. He laid his son face down on Camilla's chest, wishing she could see her Istu Maru, first son, take his first breaths, but grateful she was not awake to experience the violence of his entrance into the world.

  He didn't have time to note that he just thought of Camilla's child as his own. She was already healing herself but if her body closed up like this, it would give her constant trouble and pain. Unceremoniously he gripped the cord and used it to rip the placenta out. He tossed it back and to one side.

  Her womb clenched and contracted, trying to shrink to it's original size. Nanae used the fingers of his right hand to hold the cut he'd made open as he tore the skin of his wrist. In his rush, he bit more deeply than he'd planned and blood gushed out onto his face and chin. He held it and allowed his healing blood to flow into her uterus. He worked his way out, spilling blood between every layer, wanting her as near perfect as possible when she made her conversion.

  The wound on his wrist closed. Nanae bit through his tongue and dipped his head down. He smoothed her shredded muscles with lick after lick. The taste of their mixed blood was more than intoxicating. He became lost in the sensations, forgetting himself. He sank down into relaxation. The beast rose and took priority. Never had it tasted such a delight. It did not notice the man running up behind it as it feasted.

  Tank had seen the guardian hack open the pregnant woman's belly from a distance. As he got closer, he'd seen the creature yank out organs and toss them aside. Then in horror he watch as the monster ate her from the inside out. He couldn't run fast enough. He knew his gun, the only weapon capable of doing damage from this distance, was useless. He pulled his secret weapon from his pocket. The tiny sliver fit perfectly between his thumb and forefinger. He knew even the tiniest of cuts with this would kill.

  Tank had been in the sanctuary last year when the Guardians had battled over the weapon. Nathalia had come back from the grave to show her true colors. He watched her kill man and creature alike that day until a huge pile of bodies lay at her feet. He watched as she drank the blood of a Guardian. He saw her kill one of the immortal monsters. He knew the weapon, even shattered, could kill the godlike Nephilim.

  Tank reached the kneeling monster. He reached out and nicked the giant's shoulder above where it's wings attached to it's muscular back just as Israel led Nathalia and Kafziel out into the courtyard. Nanae's hunger beast howled and while still crouched down, spun to face it's attacker.

  Nathalia leaped. She hit Tank squarely in the chest and rode him to the ground. The impact sent him back and his DakuAhu shard flying. It landed between them and the other couple on the ground. She punched Tank's lights out and then turned to watch Nanae's death. She watched as the silver thread of life, it's two ends protruding from the slice in his shoulder, began to search. Nathalia was glad the DakuAhu was closer to Nanae than she. It would gather his life force.

  The beast roared as the thread tore from the places it was sewn throughout it's body. Nanae came unseamed as the stitches were ripped and only Nathalia could see the thread being gathered by the DakuAhu It wound around the tiny piece until the last snapped from Nanae's body with a pop and Nanae collapsed. Collapsed, not crumbled. He should be a pile of earth and water with a flash of fire consuming the air where his body had been.

  Puzzled that his body had not returned to the elements it was made of, Nathalia ran to him. Like the Akhkharu she had killed, he should be completely without life. She flipped him on his back and saw his own thread of life tightly wound in his chest like so much yarn. As she watched the silver thread spread out, tentatively searching it's way. Like a magnet to metal, the thread stretched at his body's boundaries to get close to Nathalia. She backed away.

  Nanae's consciousness returned to him with a gasp. Nanae turned to face Camilla's body. If this was his last moment, he wanted to spend it looking at his Sinnis. A loop of his silver thread found the open wound in his shoulder and began to unravel itself pulling toward the birthmark in the hollow of the Firsts' neck.

  Israel held Camilla's skin closed with both hands on her stomach. Their baby had started crying. A song came from her mouth though her eyes were closed. It was the song that angered the beast. It quietened the baby and Nathalia watched as it healed the cut in Nanae's skin. Camilla's song had removed what didn't belong.

  Camilla was the third sister. There was no doubt in Nathalia's mind. Camilla would be the one to spin the thread of life, determining all births and survivals. It was fitting that Camilla be this sister.

  Israel removed his shirt and wrapped his son in it. Kafziel spoke softly, “How can any woman survive such a birth?” It was true there was more blood on the ground than was contained in one person.

  Israel held his child and answered, “No woman could. Camilla is made Lilitu.”

  No she isn't. Nathalia shocked them all. She could clearly see that Camilla was no Lilitu. She glowed with life differently. She was not fully converted but would need to be to take her place with the three sister Fates. Camilla is Sinnis Ina Ummum Zumru to Nanae Raphael Maru.

  Nanae moved as if to stop her from speaking. His beast should not know that Camilla was his Sinnis. He froze when nothing happened. A broad smile slowly took root in his face and grew to cover it. He repeated it, “Camilla Tharese Brewster Lovejoy is my Sinnis.” Still no reaction from his beast. He searched the dark place where he imprisoned it, and found a hollow spot. “My Hunger beast is gone. How?”

  Healer, I do not know how you survived the DakuAhu Your relationship with your beast was unlike that of any Nephilim. You somehow separated yourself from it. By giving it a life of it's own, you gave the DakuAhu an alternate thread to collect, leaving yours intact. But that is a discussion for another time. You must tabalu with Camilla to complete the conversion. When you reform her body, it will be the form she takes for all eternity. Go to the place where your birthmark is hidden and collect it. It is hers now.

  Nanae stood, stunned, with his Sinnis cradled in his arms. He looked questioningly at Israel. The Lilitu held their son. Izzy crossed to them. He kissed Camilla's sleeping face and then Nanae. “You kept your promise. They're both alive. He and I will be fine until you come back.”

  Without another moment's delay, Nanae dissolved their cells and moved them through the great mother. It was pure bliss to be one with his Sinnis in this way. Their bodies mingled, Nanae could hear Camilla's song. It was as if she healed the very earth they traveled through.

  ***

  Brian sat up, wiping the drool from the left side of his face. He'd fallen asleep at his desk. He listened. There was no sound around. Sure they were down by a number of men, but there were still enough living here that silence should be impossible. He turned on his monitor, scrolling through the various security camera views.

  Every view was the same. Empty corridors, vacant rooms, men away from their stations. He switched to the more secret views. He wasn't supposed to have cameras in his men's rooms, but he did. These weren't empty. Every bed had a body in it. More than one of them had a dark liquid pooling under their cots.

  Brian stood. He pulled the slide back, chambering a round, wishing the clicking noise wasn't a dead give-a-way to his location. He held his pistol in his right hand and picked up his
dart gun in his left. He held them straight out in front of his body as he moved around his desk toward the door. He didn't have to make it out. He just had to make it to the panic room. It was on the ground level, the same as his office, only two doors down. There was no camera inside, so he didn't know if it was occupied or not.

  His trip down the hall took forever, his pounding heartbeat made it impossible to hear anything else. He was careful not to move fast enough for his boots to squeak. He breathed through an open mouth and tried not to imagine he could taste the death that blanketed this place.

  The panic room's door was unsealed. Brian stood against the wall next to it, collecting himself. He spun in, arms out, guns ready to blaze. Every corner was empty and he hit the giant red button with the back of his hand. The giant metal door slid closed. He sat on the cot with one gun on each thigh. He wanted a cigarette but couldn't make himself relinquish his hold on his guns.

  He leaned his head back on the wall behind him. He closed his eyes for a second, calming his mind and heart. When he opened them, a woman in a metal studded leather bodice and skirt sat in the chair across from where he sat. A Nephilim, in similar ancient battle attire, at full size with wings un-camouflaged knelt behind her chair. Kneeling, he was as tall as a normal human.

  Brian raised his guns and let them have it from both barrels. When both clips were empty, they remained unchanged. Only his wings had moved. He had pulled them around front to shield them and his wings had taken on a metallic sheen. Most of the bullets had rickoshayed right off. The ones that had penetrated, went right through but the holes healed up before Brian had finished shooting. Some of the darts stuck out of the membrane of his wings, but the Nephilim was steady on his feet. On his knees.

  Brian contested, “Those tranqs should have worked. They even worked on the Healer in Utah.”

  The Guardian spoke. His voice was the stuff nightmares are made of. Two spoke through one mouth. “No they did not. He pretended. He allowed himself to be taken to the compound so that he could destroy that place, much the same way we are here to destroy this one.”

  “He killed my man in Utah.” They had lost contact with Kyle hours ago and Brian knew better than to hold out hope that the man was still alive.

  “The blood thief met with an unfortunate accident while driving back after Raphael reclaimed the holy blood.”

  “You killed my men.”

  The woman spoke for the first time. Brian heard her voice inside his head and it was beautifully mesmerizing. Only a few are dead. Most will die with you in the explosion. It will look like a gas line accident and the natural gas company will pay large amounts to the ones with families. Her mouth never moved.

  Brian knew he was going to die. He had gambled it all and lost. Three times. There was no calvary who would or could come charging in. He felt strangely calm about the whole thing. The Paion would speak his name in reverent tones. He had done what none had ever done. He had taken blood from the Healer. Twice. He had what he thought was a perfected formula for the serum, though it died with him. Why let some other man reap the rewards of what he had sewn.

  He moved slowly, as not to startle them into action. He slipped his hand into his pocket and came out with a pack of cigarettes and lighter. As this would be the last he ever enjoyed, Brian savored every second of the habitual ritual. The masterfully made hard pack lid opened easily with one hand, revealing three identical yellow circles filled with cotton. He selected the one in the middle, able to hear it sliding against the one on either side and the back of the box as he pulled it free. He ran it's length under his nose, like it was a fine Cuban instead of the mundane Marlboro cigarette it was. He placed it's filter end between his lips and pulled air through the unlit tube. He enjoyed the course feel of the ridged wheel of the ignition. He had to strike it twice before it lit. He breathed in the toxic smoke and it filled him with joy. Brian was too intelligent, too highly educated, not to know that cigarettes were poison. He, like all smokers, knew but didn't care. He pitied the non-smoker. What would they do with their last few seconds of life that could come close to matching this level of satisfaction with so little effort?

  When Brian took his second drag and realized he wasn't dead yet he decided to push his luck. “I assume since I'm still alive, you need sumpun' from me. Can I ask you sumpun' first” ?The woman nodded, clearly in charge. “I thought we knew every... What 'n tha hell are you?”

  The woman's eyes narrowed and she considered him a moment before answering. This time she did move her mouth and it gave the impression of speech when her words found her way into his brain. I am the Sinnis Ina Ummum Zumru Warki Sessu Sessum-Esrum of this Nephilim, his woman from mother's body after sixth six-ten generations. I am fully converted with all the powers of the Nephilim but none of the weaknesses. I am Ereshkigal of the Kafziel family line, former Abbess Primo Nathalia to the Daughters of Women, the Chosen Warrior of the Shinar, the First of the Three Sister Fates, and the last that you and evil doers like you will ever see. She yelled, if the word 'yell' could be used to describe mental communication, I am maker of the DakuAhu and I would have back what your men took from me.

  Brian felt the warmth dripping from his ears. She had hemorrhaged something in his brain or maybe his eardrums burst. It had certainly sounded loud to him. He had no idea what the DakuAhu was. Hell, he didn't know what half the words she had just said were, but if she wanted it so badly, Brian knew he didn't want to give it back to her. He smiled and took another puff of his cigarette.

  He heard nothing. Maybe he was deaf, he didn't know. He didn't see anything either but suddenly the woman had him by the throat. She held him against the wall, his boots a foot off the ground. She roared in his head, I will have it's location. You can speak or I will tear it from you.

  She didn't wait for him to speak. She didn't allow him to breath enough to tell her if he would. She just leaned in and licked the trail of blood from his jaw to his earlobe. He heard an unfamiliar language in his head, her voice merged with two others – likely coming from the Nephilim. Brian felt his mental shielding being torn away. He fought to keep the walls around his mind from crumbling but it came down faster than he could repair it.

  Brian couldn't allow her to question him without his protection. The Paion would be easy prey to the Nephilim with the information inside his brain. He did the only thing he could think of: he put his cigarette ember out in her eye. It was foolish and futile. It hurt her for a split second before the moisture of the eye put it out and her eye healed before the butt hit the ground.

  What it did do was make her flinch. She snapped his neck with the tiny movement. He wasn't dead but he was paralyzed from the break down. He couldn't breathe. When she asked him where the DakuAhu was, he tried to answer that he didn't know what that was but thankfully no sound came out. He didn't feel it when she dropped him on the floor, but he heard their final exchange.

  “It lies here. If not with him then with one of his men. It will be destroyed no matter who has it. It will never taste the blood of an unclaimed Sinnis. It will never be forged into a weapon capable of killing us. Call on the mother and let us be gone.” The Nephilim's words held information that Brian could not process. He hoped that whoever had the DakuAhu would get the automatic transmission of this exchange and be able to interpret.

  Then the Nephilim took his Sinnis into his arms and the ground trembled. The floor of the panic room split, exposing the cement foundations and dirt beneath. The two giants stepped into the chasm and quickly vanished. The earth shook again and the artificial smell of natural gas filled the tiny room.

  Chapter 14

  Israel stood over the crib staring at the sleeping child. His son was a miracle. Izzy had been unable to look away from the angelic little face since he brought him into their home. He wondered what they would name the boy. Nothing seemed to fit. A gentle breeze, a simple change in air pressure, told him that Nanae and Camilla had returned.

  Camilla joined him at the crib. I
zzy rested his arm on her shoulders and she slipped hers around his waist. She was thin again, almost all trace of her pregnancy gone. Her small but perfect breasts were the slightest bit firmer and more round. He couldn't help himself. He reached out and felt their new increased weight. He knew without asking that they were full of milk and always would be. Nanae had ensured she would always be able to provide for their children. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her sweet lemony scent. He sighed a breath of contentment and all tension melted away.

  Camilla gave him a squeeze and then stepped forward. She reached down and picked up her son. She cried as she held him for the first time. She took him to the glider rocking chair they had picked out. She hummed and rocked. The baby nuzzled her breasts and she guided him to her nipple. He latched on easily.

  Nanae, naked as Camilla, took Israel into his arms and they stood in front of Camilla. Israel's head on his maker's chest and Nanae's resting on top of his Lilitu's head, they watched Camilla feed their child for the first time.

  “I only wish my father could have lived to see him.” Camilla's voice, already beautifully mesmerizing, had been enhanced by her conversion.

  Israel wondered if he'd ever be able to deny that voice what it requested. “I already called him. He'll be here next week with Tommy for a visit.”

  Camilla stared at him blankly and Israel noticed that her eyes had taken on that opal look of Nanae's. He was so entranced in their multicolored depths that he didn't see her confusion. Nanae caught on faster. “Your father lives.”

  Israel shook himself from his daze. “Nanae wasn't drinking his blood. He was pouring his own into the bullet wound. Your Dad is fine. He's put your mom in an institution, citing her attempt on his life and her psychological abuse on her children. He discovered a box just like yours and a similar letter in Tommy's room. Turns out she blamed him after you were gone.”