Nephilim Falling (Trenton Investigations)

by Felicia Beasley

“The one I finally lose my v-card to.”

  “You barely know the guy.”

  “Our souls align. He’s my lobster.”

  I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.

  “You need to be careful. He could be another Jim.”

  Bringing up her stalker was in a bad taste but it was my job to keep her grounded so that she wouldn’t float into a hurricane of pain.

  She waved her hand dismissively in the air as if being the victim of a sociopath was no big deal. “I’m a better judge of character now.”

  I dropped it. Arguing with her would just make her dig her heels in and ignore the warning signs later.

  “Can I meet the chosen one later? Damian will ground me if I fail history again.”

  Elena gave me the look. You know, the look your best friend gives you when she thinks you’re making excuses to blow her off.

  “Five minutes, Lexi. You can give me that at least.”

  She picked up my notebook and glanced over the half-finished paper.

  “You’re almost done, anyhow. This will take, what a half-hour?”

  Maybe it would have taken her a half an hour. Everything came easily to Elena. School, friends, boys. She was intelligent, gorgeous, and gave off that vibe of radiant energy that sucked people in like a positive black hole. There was a good reason everyone loved her, including me.

  Before you think I’m jealous, I’m not. I initially gravitated toward her for different reasons than everyone else. She kept people from noticing me, noticing my weirdness.

  She was my camouflage.

  It was only later that I learned Elena and I fit together like Thelma and Louise. She likes the same geeky movies as me, reads the same comics, plays the same video games. She’s just better at hiding her weirdness.

  Me? I let my freak flag fly.

  “Lucas, over here.” Elena stood and waved her hand frantically.

  I’m not sure why. It’s not like he couldn’t see us when he came in. We were directly in sight of the door.

  I glanced over. Rome was completely forgotten.

  Tall, with the lean muscles of a professional swimmer, he strutted toward our table, a prize cock trying to impress the hens.

  Lustrous brown hair curled against sculpted cheekbones. His blue-gray eyes never left Elena’s glowing face, the tender smile on his pale lips reserved only for her.

  I gulped and tried to slow the mad beating of my heart.

  On a good day, I’m socially awkward. Add in a hot guy, and I’m a mess.

  He stopped next to her, never once looking in my direction. I was a non-entity, beneath his notice, beneath both of their notice.

  Together they looked like they belonged on the red carpet, oblivious to the photographer’s bulbs flashing non-stop, caught in their little world.

  It was nausea inducing.

  Elena wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “I missed you.”

  He chuckled, returning the hug just as tightly. “You just saw me.”

  Elena released him reluctantly and gestured in my direction. “This is Lexi.”

  I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave. “Hi.”

  He tore his eyes from the goddess and met my gaze.

  Electric energy crackled through the air. My mouth went dry. The back of my neck itched. Time stood still.

  Okay, I know I sound like some movie cliché. But this wasn’t some love at first sight bullshit. No, the vibe was off. I just couldn’t put my finger on why.

  Fight, flight, or freeze kicked in.

  Freeze won.

  His smile vanished. Eyes widened like a bunny frozen in the headlights that spelled his doom.

  I don’t know how long we stared at each other frozen in that moment until Elena cleared her throat, breaking the bond holding Lucas and me unwillingly captive.

  His lip raised in a confident, half-smirk as if he hadn’t just been struck dumb moments earlier.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Lexi.”

  My stomach twisted in a knot, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. “It’s just Lex.”

  Elena was the only one I allowed to call me Lexi. She usually paired it with sexy just to get under my skin. Sexy Lexi. My affection for her outweighed my aversion to the name. The only thing I liked to be called even less was Alexis.

  “Lex, then.” He extended his hand.

  I hesitated. I had a feeling touching him would be about as smart as taking a pizza out of the oven without mitts.

  I didn’t want to appear rude, though, knowing that I’d get an earful from Elena later if I did. I reached out, and he grasped my hand in his firm grip.

  The effect was instantaneous.

  You know how a static shock feels? Times that by a million.

  It took him a little too long to let go.

  He pointed at my breasts. “Love the shirt.”

  I looked down. I was wearing my favorite Zelda t-shirt. Yeah, he was perfect for Elena.

  “You, too,” I mumbled like an idiot, gesturing at his brown polo.

  Told you I was socially awkward.

  “It’s new.” He chuckled. “Lanie has told me a lot about you.”

  My stomach twisted as butterflies threatened to break out my chest like a Xenomorph in Alien.

  “All lies,” I said quickly.

  His eyes widened for a moment until he realized I was joking.

  He laughed again. “Yeah, she was right about you.”

  I would try to decipher that cipher later when I wasn’t being overwhelmed by his proximity.

  “I, uh, have to get back to work. Nice to meet you,” I lied.

  I looked down at my paper but the words blurred and I was still intimately aware of his presence. I seriously considered breaking up with Elena if it meant I never had to see him again.

  He plopped down in the chair next to me, straining to look at what I’d already written.

  “The fall of an empire,” he read. He looked up. His grayish blue eyes reminded me of my brother. “Ancient Rome?”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the fact he smelled like an orange grove.

  “If you need some help, I’m happy to.”

  He gave me a genuine smile. I started to doubt he felt what I was feeling between us. I know I wouldn’t be able to muster a passable smile when my insides felt like they were rebelling against me.

  Elena placed her hands on his shoulder, asserting her claim. “You know a lot about Roman history?” she asked.

  “I’ve read the Iliad at least a dozen times.”

  “Who hasn’t?” I retorted. I’d rather fail than ask for his help. “Besides, isn’t the Iliad about the Greeks?”

  He grinned, unaffected by my sour mood. “Touché.”

  Elena said something but the words didn’t register. I had finally pinpointed why he made me feel like I was on a broken roller coaster.

  He gave off the same aura as my brother.

  Fuck me.

  Chapter 4

  After the disaster at the casino, Damian had banned me from the office.

  I was supposed to be home putting the finishing touches on the paper that I’m sure was only half-coherent. My meeting with Lucas the Nephilim had screwed up the rest of my day. Which was why I was disobeying a direct order by coming here.

  Damian would want to know something preternatural was lurking in the hallways of my school.

  He was serious about cutting me out, though. I wasn’t even allowed to answer the phones or vacuum anymore. And the place needed a good cleaning.

  Dirty boot prints covered the hardwood floor. Puddles of melted snow increased the likelihood of a lawsuit following a slip and fall.

  None of the furniture in the waiting area matched. Wes’ desk, with its peeling red paint, clashed against the lime-green cushioned folding chair he avoided ever sitting on. There was a reason his desk was always immaculate, and it wasn’t because of OCD.

  But at least his chair had a cushion. The only place waiting clients could
sit was on one of three metal contraptions that looked about as comfortable as sitting on railroad spikes. Damian had gotten them for a steal, though.

  Free. On the side of the road. Intended for the dump, not someone’s ass.

  The ornately decorated throw rug that took up a quarter of the space was the nicest piece. At least it had been before the edges had frayed and the bright colors had faded.

  His private office, door currently shut, didn’t look much better.

  Damian didn’t care about first impressions. Our business depended on word of mouth. It’s not like we can take an ad out in the paper. Sentinels are touchy about anyone moving in on their territory. And they saw anything non-human as part of their territory.

  Besides, we were the last hope for the people walking through our doors. It’s hard to notice the decorating faux pas when you’re desperate.

  Damian focused on keeping clients happy and finishing cases. You know, the fun stuff. He left the grunt work to me and Wes.

  Nobody is starting pitcher in their first game, Damian had said once.

  I was tired of being benched.

  Which is why I had my ear pressed against his office door as he chatted with a potential client.

  “He didn’t come home on Saturday,” a female voice said.

  I could hear the struggle to keep from breaking in her voice.

  “How old is Terrance?” my brother asked.

  A sniffle. “Sixteen.”

  “And he’s a nephilim?”

  My ears perked up at the mention of another half-angel. Two in one day?

  Even though my brother was a nephilim himself, I hadn’t met many. Most of our clients were more like me, demon-blooded. How he got to be the go-to guy for the half-demon population, I’ll never know.

  My brother bucks all the norms.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” an amused voice said behind me.

  I jumped. I hadn’t heard Wes come in.

  He looked better. While I was one hundred percent now, I’d put him at seventy-five. At least his face didn’t look like hamburger anymore.

  I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Guilty.”

  “Haven’t you had your share of lectures yet?”

  I shrugged. “What’s the worst he’ll do to me?”

  “Your brother can be quite imaginative.” He nodded toward the door. “New client?”

  “Yep. Missing nephilim.”

  Wes got a sour expression on his face. Even though my brother was a nephilim, Wes reacted the same way to other nephilim as most demons, part or whole, would.

  Disgust. Fear. Loathing.

  Angels and demons. Eternal enemies.

  Frankly, it was stupid. The truth was we both had the same enemy. Didn’t matter if you were demon-blooded or angel, the sentinels saw you as a stain that needed to be eradicated before the in-laws showed up.

  The angels could hide behind their pearly gates in Empyrean. Demons sulked in Sheol, only crossing dimensions to feed.

  It’s the ones like me who have nowhere else to go who suffer. Half-breeds across both species are abandoned, enslaved, used.

  Demons and angels had more in common than not.

  I pressed my ear back against the door, focusing on the voices inside rather than Wes’ quiet chuckling.

  Nothing but silence.

  The door opened and slammed against my cheek. My brother looked around to see what was blocking the way.

  Busted.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as I moved out of the way, rubbing my cheek.

  He didn’t apologize.

  Damian’s new clients followed him out of the private office, neither glancing in my direction. The woman’s eyes were red and puffy. The man’s jaw was so clenched I worried he would shatter his teeth.

  Both of them were human.

  Angels tended not to stick around after an oopsie. Something about it being a big no-no to do the nasty with a lower species.

  After the couple had left, Damian turned his attention to me. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t say anything but how he felt was painted on his face. I felt like I was five and had just been caught stealing candy from a baby.

  I had forgotten what his face looked like when he wasn’t disappointed in me.

  “So new case?” I said. Maybe he’d let me in on this. How dangerous can finding a missing kid be?

  “Don’t you have homework?”

  I gestured toward the backpack leaning against Wes’ desk. “Finished it.”

  “Time to go home, then.”

  “Anything I can do to help? Go to his school maybe? Talk to his friends? They might open up to someone closer to their age.”

  Damian’s eyes narrowed, and I felt like a puddle of diarrhea. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “Wes, can you drive my sister home, please?”

  Wes nodded, knowing better than to come between Damian’s scolding and me.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I’ve got somewhere to be tonight. There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge.”

  Damian put almost everything he had into every job, but he always came home in time for dinner. Family first.

  I didn’t let my disappointment show.

  The three of us left together, Damian locking up behind us. I gave him a hug before walking in the opposite direction with Wes to his car.

  There was only one parking space, and Damian didn’t like to share.

  Wes had to park four blocks away.

  “Can I drive?” I asked, getting into the beater. PI work and Mercedes were mutually exclusive.

  He scoffed. “Hell no.”

  I pouted. There are no cars in Sheol where Wes had spent all his years except the last three as a slave, so Wes and I had learned to drive at the same time. I’m pretty sure had taken ten years off of Damian’s life.

  As soon as Wes had passed the test, Damian had gifted him his old car.

  Even though I’d passed my own a month later, I still had to ride the bus.

  “Shit,” I said before he could put the key in the ignition.

  “What?”

  “I forgot my bag.”

  I was using the word forgot liberally here. I didn’t think he’d appreciate my cunning at intentionally forgetting.

  He sighed and handed me the ring of keys. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”

  Good old trusting Wes. I threw him a quick smile before grabbing the keys and jaunting out the car.

  I made sure to slow down my pace as soon as I was out of sight in case Damian hadn’t left yet.

  Damian was not as trusting.

  I rushed back into the office and raced straight for Damian’s desk in his private office.

  I felt like a criminal rummaging through the papers on his desk.

  All I found were old bills and a letter from one of my teachers. I resisted the temptation to see what was being said about me. There were more important matters at hand.

  Not finding what I needed on top of the desk, I began rifling through the drawers.

  Had Damian taken everything with him? I didn’t remember him having anything when we left, and unlike suit-wearing Wes, Damian preferred jeans and a t-shirt, nothing that could hide a bulky folder.

  I sighed as I slammed the last drawer shut.

  I looked around the office. If I were a paranoid big brother, where would I hide the important papers I knew my baby sister couldn’t resist stealing?

  My eyes rested on his bookcase. It stretched taller than me, tall enough that I couldn’t see if there was anything on the top.

  I couldn’t reach the top of the bookcase, either, not without some help.

  I dragged his plush office chair across the carpet, stepped up and reached up. Even on the chair I couldn’t quite see. I swept my hand around until I brushed against a folder.

  Huzzah.

  I grabbed them, hopped off the chair and then sat down. There wasn’t much in the file. Just a picture of a cute boy my age
flashing dimples as he smiled and a single sheet from a yellow legal pad, Damian’s scribbles filling the lines.

  Terrance Smith. No points for creativity with that last name.

  I snatched one of Damian’s business cards and scratched out the boy’s name and the name of his school. I stuffed it into my pocket.

  I put the folder back where I found it as best as I could and pushed the chair back to the desk. There were indents in the carpet where the chair had moved.

  I rubbed my foot across the marks to hide the evidence before leaving and returning to Wes.

  Everything I needed to finally prove to my brother that I was ready, that I was a needed member of the team, was in my pocket.

  I just had to find the kid before he did.

  Chapter 5

  First order of business in Mission Prove Yourself was finding a ride to Terrance’s school the next day.

  With no car of my own, my choices were a bus or Elena.

  I had assumed Elena would be the faster, cheaper option but convincing her to skip school with me was proving to be harder than college level Calculus.

  Which was why I found myself begging in front of our lockers before next period started. If we left now, we would get there around lunch time.

  I had done my research on the school the night before. Yearly tuition cost more than most mortgages. They boasted an impressive one teacher to fifteen students. Last year’s graduating class numbered in the high two figures and had a ninety-nine percent graduation rate.

  I would have hated to be the lone guy throwing off a perfect hundred.

  “What do I get out of it?” Elena asked, putting the finishing touches on her make-up. Her parents were stricter than the Amish. Make-up was only one of several things Elena wasn’t “allowed” to do.

  Other students milled around us in the hall, chatting, laughing, and ignoring the battle of wills between me and my best friend.

  “Helping find a poor kidnapped kid before he dies.”

  Yeah, I can be a bit melodramatic.

  She finished smoothing lipstick on her pouty lips and shut the locker harder than she needed to. She seemed pissed about something, but I didn’t know how me just asking a question would have set her off.

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. Maybe her ire wasn’t in my direction after all.