The Nephilim War: Book One

by Adrienne Kama

  “Join in your quest to free the Nephilim? I don’t think so. Yes, Azriel, I know that’s the plan. Everyone knows. Why else would you want the girl?”

  The lunatic grin slid from Azriel’s perfect features, and his voice became a low hiss. “How can you fight for them after what they did to us? Are you that desperate to return home? I say to hell with them and their rules. I will bring about a new world. I will change all the old rules. I will be the one who is worshipped. And I won’t punish anyone who has the nerve to experience all that living has to offer the way you and I were punished. Join me, Raven. Rule with me. As for Charity, were you imprisoned for so long that you forgot your manhood? Women like her are the reason we left the heavens to begin with. Take my cause, Raven, and we can share her.”

  Charity felt Azriel’s eyes on her.

  “You would like that, wouldn’t you, Charity?”

  Charity took a step back and gazed down at her feet. Unbidden, an image of herself in bed, Azriel moving inside of her while Raven covered her body with kisses, flashed across her mind.

  Azriel laughed. “That and more.”

  Charity’s face heated with embarrassment. He could see her thoughts, read her mind just like Raven.

  She was saved from responding when Raven broke in. “You’ll never win, Azriel. Your whole plan is dependent on Charity, and I won’t let you have her. She’s mine, and I’m not willing to share.” To punctuate his statement, he set his forearm around Charity’s waist and pulled her close to him. “I don’t have to share.”

  Azriel beamed. “Old friend, you don’t have surprise on your side today. I don’t see how you can stop me. Besides, you have too many people to protect.” Azriel smiled at Myrddin and Aliceanna, then gazed into the trees at the creatures who stood watching the events unfold at the edge of the road. “Come,” he said.

  As one, the army of ghouls started forward.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Chapter Five

  Charity screamed. Raven was off his bike in an instant. In one move, he freed himself of his cloak and cast it onto the ground at his feet and tossed his helmet aside. Clamping his hand to Charity’s wrist, he pulled her forward. His wings whipped out, and he folded her into his arms.

  Aliceanna stumbled into Myrddin who wrapped his arms around her. He spun. Saw that the beasts were coming at them from every angle.

  The things treaded slowly, confident in the fact that their victims didn’t have any place to run. Low moans emanated from mouths dripping globs of saliva.

  Like the crazed angel he was, Azriel clapped his hands in glee and did a celebratory two-step. “You can’t fly with all of them, old friend. What will it be? Will you fly away with the girl and leave your ancient friend and his student here to die, or will you hand Charity over to me and save the sorcerers?”

  “Make a circle,” Aliceanna interrupted.

  “With what? For the love of God, Aliceanna, they’re closing in. We don’t have time to make a circle.”

  For a moment, Aliceanna only stared at Charity in shock. Charity didn’t care if Aliceanna was shocked. What Charity wanted to do was scream. Scream and run, but Raven’s hold on her was steel.

  She felt him stiffen. In the next second, a group of ghouls were sent into the air. Raven spun, dragging her with him, and another group was cast into the air as if they were a band of rag dolls.

  “We could make a circle with our bodies,” Myrddin said. “Put Charity in the center.”

  “Oh joy,” Azriel laughed, “you’re putting up a fight. This should be good.” He propped himself up on a tree, folded his arms, and watched.

  “No circle can hold Azriel at bay,” Raven declared. “You can hold the ghouls back, but Azriel will be free to act at any time.”

  “Party pooper,” Azriel said with an adolescent pout. “He’s quite right, though. You forget, I taught the magic arts to man. Can the student outwit the teacher?”

  Nobody responded to his taunts. The creatures were closing in, and while Raven was throwing them back with relative ease, more quickly filled in the gaps. They were close enough now for Charity to make out individual features. Split noses, leaking eyes, and tongues that whipped out to lick at lips gone dry with age. The groans rose around them and the stench of decomposition was thick in the air. Charity gagged on the taste of it.

  This was real. She wondered briefly where other travelers were. Why didn’t any cars pass them?

  “Road’s blocked,” Azriel said, staring at her. “From both ends. I have you all to myself.”

  Myrddin’s voice suddenly thundered above Azriel and the groans of the creatures. To Charity’s ears, the foreign words sounded like curses. He set his staff high overhead, turned his face up to the sky and chanted in a loud, plaintive voice. The creatures stilled for a moment, stared as if taken aback by this new turn of events. Raven ceased knocking the creatures about to gaze at Myrddin as well. As the sorcerer’s voice rose, his body began to shake. The normal tenor of his voice sunk into a deep baritone Charity didn’t recognize, and as she watched him, he slowly, unmistakably began to levitate. His staff came alive with light. As he hovered, legs spread, strawberry hair riding the wind, Charity stupidly realized he’d removed his helmet like Raven.

  The creatures fell to their knees.

  “Get up,” Azriel screamed at them. “Get up now, you brood of cowards, or I will make you suffer a thousands deaths worse than the last.”

  Every instinct told Charity she should run now when she had the chance. Escape. The ghouls were so close already. Even on their knees, the sight of them terrified her. She didn’t believe that their present docility would last.

  Even as she thought this, Myrddin brought his glowing staff down until it was level with the first rank facing him. He held his free hand out to his side, and when Charity saw his face, she realized his jade eyes had gone completely white.

  Charity reached for Raven’s hand. When she found it, she squeezed. He returned her squeeze and whispered into her ear. “You have nothing to fear from Myrddin,” he said.

  When Myrddin began to speak again, she wasn’t so sure she believed Raven. The voice that came out of Myrddin as he glowered at the ghouls was, in a word, terrible. Raven wrapped his arms protectively around her, and she sank into his warmth. She knew, or at least her mind knew, that Raven could protect her from any threat. She also knew that Myrddin wasn’t a threat. Still, she would have preferred to be anywhere but where she was.

  She struggled to understand what Myrddin was saying, but again the language was foreign. It rang familiarly with her, but she wasn’t sure if that was because she’d heard it before or because it made more sense than the last language he spoke.

  Then it hit her. She had heard the language before. At Mass.

  “Latin,” she mumbled when she made out two of the words. “Dominus tecum,”

  “The Lord is with thee,” Raven translated.

  A cold shiver ran down her spine. Myrddin wasn’t chanting, he was praying.

  Azriel screeched in rage. He sprang forward, half running and half dancing through the hordes of kneeling ghouls like a man gone crazy. “Suffer, suffer, and suffer,” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “All of you will suffer.” He came to an abrupt halt and spun around to face his crouching minions, his face a mask of rage. “Get up, you cowards, or I will send you to hell where you belong.”

  Azriel could plainly see he didn’t have to send the ghouls anywhere. Myrddin had taken care of that for him.

  “Myrddin is sending them to hell,” Raven explained unnecessarily.

  Charity could see for herself what was happening. The creatures writhed on the ground, pleading in great gasps to a being far beyond reason. Azriel danced around them, cursing them to misery and eternal damnation. As she watched, the ghouls cowered on the ground, hands raised in supplication. A second later, they exploded into countless microscopic particles.

  A howl of pure rage erupted from Azriel as he turned on Myrdd
in, a slow wind rising around him. “Sooo, sorcerer, you think to match wits with me.”

  Gone was the laughter; the smile was a memory. Charity found herself longing for it. In the space of a few seconds, Azriel had gone completely mad. And clearly he was far more dangerous than a million mindless ghouls would have been.

  He advanced on Myrddin, the winds rising around him as he came.

  Myrddin lifted his staff before him, stretching the glowing hilt towards Azriel who glared. In a move so quick Charity hadn’t seen it, Azriel lifted his hand. The staff was ripped from Myrddin and sent clattering to the ground.

  Raven stepped in front of Charity, ordering her to stay close. Raven lifted a hand, but Azriel anticipated him. What should have been a forceful mind blow only made Azriel stumble. The next mind blow didn’t even make Azriel falter.

  “Witches,” Azriel was mumbling under his breath.

  Without his staff, Myrddin sunk to the earth. He dropped to his knees in search of his powerful weapon, but Azriel was too fast. Faster even than Raven. One moment, Azriel was nearly ten feet from his prey, the next he was standing within their circle, Myrddin dangling from one hand by the throat. He shook the wizard as though he were nothing more than a large rag doll.

  Aliceanna, in a complete panic, ran at the lunatic angel and began throwing her fists into him. All the while, Myrddin dangled. He fought to strike Azriel with his foot and fist, but nothing fazed the angry angel.

  Then Azriel was stumbling backwards. He let go of Myrddin, who crumpled to the ground. Aliceanna was at his side in an instant; while Raven pressed the small advantage he had gained. He flicked his head to the left, and Azriel was lifted and sent sailing into a ditch at the side of the road. Azriel roared. He rolled to his feet, jerking an arm out in Raven’s direction. Raven was ready for it and only stumbled back a step. His muscular legs were spread as he regained his balance. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared on at Azriel who had come to stand in the road again, the wind still around him.

  “So this is your choice, Raven?” Azriel demanded. “This is how our friendship is to end? With us as enemies?”

  “Your choice, not mine.”

  Azriel glanced at Myrddin, who was sitting upright and staring. Azriel’s lip curled as he looked at the wizard. “This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me, sorcerer,” Azriel promised.

  Myrddin groaned, then grimaced at his weakness. Raven bent to pick up the staff and bring it to the fallen wizard. As he did this, he was careful not to take his eyes from the crazed angel.

  “Let’s say I give you something to remind you of me,” Azriel suggested amiably.

  “Let’s say you do not,” Myrddin answered, brushing long strands of strawberry blonde hair from his face.

  Azriel grinned. “Hocus pocus,” he said with a snap of his fingers.

  Aliceanna screamed.

  Charity turned to look at the woman who was down on her knees in the road. She stumbled back at the sight of her. Blood spilled from wounds in Aliceanna’s wrists.

  “Let her die like the God you so love,” Azriel declared.

  Aliceanna rocked backwards at the sight of her own blood and landed on her butt with a thud.

  “Bastard,” Myrddin said to Azriel.

  Raven, careful to keep an eye on Azriel, dropped to his knees beside the girl.

  “I think you’ll find, old friend, that all of my tricks aren’t of the parlor variety,” said Azriel.

  After a moment of unsuccessful attempts at staunching the blood, Raven faced his adversary. “What did you do to her?”

  Azriel shrugged. “I suppose now is as good a time as any for me to take my leave,” he said.

  “Be gone, demon,” Myrddin shouted.

  “As I said, sorcerer, this isn’t over.”

  “Azriel, stop the flow,” said Raven. “Or she’ll die.”

  Azriel bowed low, set his eyes on Charity, then turned his back on them. Instead of gales of wind rising around him, she watched as two pairs of ivory wings unfolded on his back. Like the most graceful of doves, he rose in the air, his wings flapping soundlessly. Charity watched him until he was but a dot on the distant horizon.

  “Raven,” Myrddin called, “she loses too much blood. What did he do to her?”

  Raven knelt to the ground again and cradled Aliceanna’s hands in his lap. Brows furrowed in thought, he searched his mind for whatever trick Azriel had used on her. “We have to stop the bleeding somehow. I don’t know what he did to her so we’ll have to use basic human methods. Cloth. We should make a tourniquet to slow the blood flow.”

  Glad for something to do, Charity set to ripping a swatch of material from her flannel shirt.

  “Nor is it over for you and me, Charity.”

  She jerked her head up and glanced at Raven, then at Myrddin. Both were bent to their task.

  “They can’t hear me,” the voice inside her head said. And she realized it was Azriel. Azriel speaking secretly to her.

  Unbidden, she felt a stirring deep in her loins. Then a hot flush spread over her face. She couldn’t explain her physical reaction to him. It was wrong. It was also wrong to look at him, but she had. She’d memorized every inch of his body. In those last moments before he’d turned away, his face had undergone a dramatic change. He’d gone from scornful demon to loving angel so quickly, Charity wondered briefly if such a face as his was capable of the rage she had seen seconds earlier. All of a sudden, he seemed more beautiful than she remembered. His lips were parted, poised to give a kiss. They were so lush and pink. And his eyes were kind as he looked at her, almost pained, as if he was ashamed she had seen him lose control. His hands were limp at his sides. He looked so lost, so very miserable and misunderstood. She remembered thinking that very thing. Thinking he was just misunderstood.

  “I am.”

  She knew Raven didn’t have any idea what was happening. She remembered his warnings about Azriel, remembered what Azriel was capable of, but she found herself drawn to him.

  “The way Raven misunderstands you,” he continued. “I bear you no ill will. It’s Raven who is the liar.”

  “No.” She said silently just as Azriel had spoken to her, to see if he would hear her.

  “He plays with you. Seduces you, but refuses you. He doesn’t trust you. He knows you’ll be as powerful as him if he does.”

  “Liar. You speak ill of Raven while Aliceanna sits at my feet bleeding to death because of your tricks.”

  “I’ll heal the witch, but I want you to know that I don’t care if you’re as powerful as me. I’d never torment you with kisses, tempt you with my body, go to you in bed only to withdraw from you. Come to me, Charity, and I’ll make love to you every morning. Every night I’ll show you what heaven really is.”

  She gasped out loud, her body longing to believe him even as her mind raged against all that he said.

  “Demon!” Raven called. He strode to Charity, setting his arm around her waist and pulling her backwards. “Leave her, Azriel.”

  Azriel’s low chuckle drifted away from them on the wind.

  He was gone.

  Raven faced her. “What did he say to you?”

  She looked up into his sable eyes, searching them for a hint of the mistrust Azriel had spoken of. “He didn’t say anything.”

  “I will not have you falling prey to that liar. Do you understand me, Charity?”

  “Raven,” Myrddin called. “The bleeding has stopped.”

  Chapter Six

  A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace to the left of the table where they sat. Fine linen cloths were set to the left of the most expensive, impractical dishes Charity had ever seen. They were edged in gold and encrusted with dainty jewels of ruby and emerald. These weren’t the sort of dishes you ate on, but the kind you set in display cases. Nevertheless, she watched in stunned silence as a parade of servers trumped back and forth from the kitchens to pile the dishes high with food. It made her cringe just to watch it. Anyone who would serve gr
illed sausage and bread dumplings on rubies was simply a fool. Though she couldn’t say she was surprised. Since she saw the ornate wrought iron gates at the entrance, mansard roofs, and what looked to her like a perverse mix of baroque and gothic architecture, she knew whomever lived in the house would be something of an eccentric. They’d walked through the entrance gates and up the steps to the double doors of the entrance, while Charity wondered what this Alaric person would be like. His home was like something out of a dark fairy tale, beautiful and terrible all at once. As she tread through the parlor, Myrddin suggested she glance up at the ceiling to what he thought was ‘one of the finest frescos of Apollo that I have ever beheld’ It was a bit showy for her tastes. And now they sat in a dining hall worthy of every Dracula movie ever made as dour servers hurried about them seeing to their every whim. Not for the first time, she wondered how she had gotten to this point in her life. Nothing she ever did could have prepared her to be sitting in some old villa with a Watcher and two sorcerers while they waited for a vampire to return home.

  “So, where is this Alaric?” she ventured, breaking the oppressive silence that had ruled since Azriel’s departure in the wood.

  Raven lifted a hand and gave her cheek a stroke. “I’m sorry. I have been remiss.”

  Her skin tingled at his touch. A sudden longing to be alone with him filled her. She knew they wouldn’t be alone for quite some time, and even when they were, he would do little more than stroke her and tempt her with his kisses. She didn’t know if she could bear any more of that.

  “You have been recovering after our encounter,” Myrddin said, pulling his mass of strawberry hair from his face. “If I ever get my hands on Azriel—“

  “What?” Aliceanna demanded. “What’ll you do? You’re no match for him. None of us are, except Raven.”

  “What do you suppose I do? Allow his attack of you to go unpunished? Do you realize he could have killed you?”