The Nephilim War: Book One

by Adrienne Kama

  “Do you realize he could just as easily kill you? What would I do then?” Her green eyes blazed with defiance. “I’ll not have you go off to fight a battle you can’t win.”

  “Is that so?”

  “She’s right, Myrddin.” Raven set one hand against the table and the other against Charity’s thigh under the table. He gave it a little squeeze and had fire shooting up her leg and settling deep in her loins. “You can’t fight Azriel. He knows things that even I don’t know.”

  “His attack will not go unpunished.” Myrddin said. “You saw how he struck out at Aliceanna just to wound me.”

  “Ah, I did, just as you saw my impotence in dealing with that attack. He’s simply too strong for you. And I can’t protect all of us. Perhaps Alaric…” he let the words trail off. “No. We need Figlio, too.”

  “But doesn’t Alaric possess spirit power?” Aliceanna held a wine glass up as a server poured wine into it. “You can fill it all the way up, you know,” she told the server when she surveyed the half-filled glass. “I’m a big girl.” She gave the male server a quick smile that had him flushing. “Anyway,” she resumed, “I’ve seen Alaric move on the wind. I’ve seen him use the mind blow like you and Azriel did today. Alaric is powerful.”

  “As is Myrddin, but it matters not. Alaric moves on the wind, but not as a spirit. He’s a vampire, not a shape shifter. And he’s not one of the first as Figlio is. Alaric was made what he is, not born into it. But he is old and capable of moving matter with thought. That will be a help.” Raven sighed. “We need to keep Charity safe.”

  Myrddin leaned forward in his chair and let his gaze fall on Charity. “What about Charity?”

  Charity stiffened. “What about me?” she questioned.

  “You are Nephilim. Surely you know what that means, Raven.”

  Raven removed his hand from her and began to shake his head. “No. That’s too dangerous.”

  Aliceanna frowned at Raven. “But why? With your strength, with your abilities…with the two of you, Azriel wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “I said no. Doing such a thing would be forbidden. Do you forget so easily that I’ve spent many millennia imprisoned for such acts? Would you have me return to my prison?”

  “This wouldn’t be sex for the sake of sex, though. You were sent here to do a job. Would they punish you for completing it? My gosh, Raven, the girl is helpless right now. If Azriel got his hands on her, how on earth do you think she’d protect herself?

  Charity was getting tired of being referred to as the girl, but she did appreciate the sentiment. Aliceanna was right. Right now, she was as helpless as a babe in the woods. She’d been nothing but a dead weight on the trip thus far. If Azriel took her, she’d be completely at his mercy.

  “I will protect her.”

  “You involve her in this mess, expect her to risk her life, and won’t even give her the ability to protect herself. What about you, Myrddin?”

  Myrddin was silent for a moment. “If Raven doesn’t think…”

  Aliceanna slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “If I could do it myself, I would but you both know that, being a woman, I can’t. So you both would leave her weak and defenseless.” When they said nothing, she let loose a feral growl. “Just like men.”

  Charity decided she’d been a bystander in all of this long enough. Sitting about silently as others decided what would happen to her. Damn it, this was her life, and Aliceanna was right, she had a right to protect herself. “He doesn’t trust me,” she said.

  Raven turned to look at her. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Because it’s true. You read my mind as easily as Azriel does.”

  “I don’t always arbitrarily intrude on your thoughts.”

  “But you have. I’ve felt you there just as I’ve felt Azriel. You know the silent war my body rages against my mind. You know there’s a part of me that wants to go to Azriel.” Myrddin gasped, but she continued. “I know as strongly as my mind rages against Azriel, my body longs for him. That doesn’t mean I’ll do as my body bids. I would never fight against you, Raven. And like Aliceanna said, I have a right to protect myself.”

  “Even should you come to see me as your enemy and Azriel your savior?”

  “Ah, so it’s true. Raven has come to walk among us.”

  The room fell silent for a moment, then they all turned to face the newcomer.

  Two men stood at the entryway to the dining hall. One was a physically imposing male. His flowing brown locks hung over his shoulders, worn blue jeans hugged well shaped thighs, and a barely buttoned silk shirt displayed the kind of chest that fantasies had been built on. The purple scarf he wore was wrapped jauntily around his throat. He was incredibly attractive, with eyes so gray they seemed translucent, but then every man Charity had met thus far had been good-looking. The newcomer’s companion stepped forward from the shadows, and Charity wasn’t surprised that he too had the face of an angel. His pin straight hair was a dark plum red, a hue so deep it almost matched the black streaks in it. It hung past his slender shoulders and shone brilliantly under the firelight. Startlingly green eyes blazed in a face that looked no older than twenty. Though he too was attractive, exquisitely so with his fine-boned features and simple jeans and sweater, he was not half as imposing as the other was. Without being told, she knew the gray-eyed one was Alaric. The air positively buzzed around him.

  Myrddin quickly rose to his feet. “Alaric.”

  The brown haired man came forward, pulling his companion along behind him by the hand.

  Then everyone was standing.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, Damon,” Myrddin was saying.

  “Alaric was kind enough to bring me with him,” he explained. “Really I left him no other choice.”

  “The scoundrel would have attached himself to my leg had I allowed it,” Alaric said. He had a soft accent. Not French, maybe German. “You see, Raven, he, too, knew of your arrival. It has become quite the topic in the covens. Damon had to see you for himself. Please do rise off the floor, Damon,” he admonished the crouching figure at Raven’s feet. “You’re embarrassing my guest.”

  Reluctantly, Damon got to his feet. He offered Raven one last respectful bow then backed away from him.

  “And this must be Charity,” Alaric said. For a moment he froze and an expression she couldn’t decipher crossed his face. She felt his translucent eyes fix on her a moment before he stepped away from Raven and came towards her.

  “I am Alaric.” He bowed low over her hand. “It is my greatest honor to make your acquaintance,” he purred. When he rose, he let his gaze rove lustily from her eyes to the open buttons of her flannel, where just the hint of cleavage was exposed. “I hope we have time to truly get to know each other.” He darted a glance at Raven who stared disapprovingly back at him. Alaric grinned like a mischievous child. “You cannot expect to keep such a jewel to yourself Raven. You must share.” That said, Alaric stepped forward and pressed his lips delicately to hers. The movement startled her. A small gasp escaped her lips before he stepped away, licking his lips.

  “Lovely,” he declared

  She gaped.

  “Damon, come meet the lovely Nephilim female.”

  As bidden, Damon came forward and offered a slender hand. “A pleasure,” he said simply.

  Spanish, she decided.

  “Everybody sit,” Raven ordered. “Those of you inclined to eat, eat. Those of you whose tastes are of a more particular nature,” he glanced at Alaric, “you’ll have to wait until after we adjourn our little meeting here.”

  Alaric settled at Charity’s left and continued his visual inventory of her. His gaze felt like a physical thing. Hot and very erotic.

  “Is that a promise, great one?” Alaric asked.

  Raven eyed him. “To a point. Am I going to have to move you, Alaric, or are you going to behave?”

  In response, Alaric took great handfuls of Charity’s hair and held them to hi
s nose. “You smell like paradise, Charity.”

  “You’re making her nervous, Alaric,” Aliceanna said, clearly annoyed.

  “Alaric?” Raven repeated.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the crooked smile slip from Alaric’s face. He made quite a show of lifting his hands and allowing her hair to cascade through his fingers. “I will be a good boy, Raven. Cross my heart.” He crossed his heart in a show of good will. Then he glanced across the table to Damon, who was examining his own reflection in a spoon. “Damon, you lovely creature, you. Come sit on my lap and amuse me.”

  Damon immediately went crimson, which amused Alaric to no end.

  “So, you know all that has transpired?” Raven demanded of Alaric, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand.

  “But of course.”

  “We need your assurance that in the event Azriel succeeds, the covens will stand behind you as their leader.”

  “The coven leaders will do as I wish,” Alaric said confidently. “It is the rogues that I’m more concerned with. The rebels that refuse the kinship of any coven. They are disrespectful and high-minded. There is no telling what disasters they will embroil themselves in given half a chance. The more rebellious of the batch will follow Azriel on principle alone. Thumbing their noses to authority, and that bit.” He paused. “When on earth did I become an authority figure?”

  “Since you became head of the Alliance.”

  “What’s the Alliance?” Charity asked.

  Alaric turned to face her; his eyes alight with mischief. “Take me to your bed, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “Alaric,” Raven admonished, “she’s Nephilim, you know you can’t do that.”

  Alaric moaned and passed his tongue over his lips. “So she would become vampyr for a time. I could show her the ecstasy that is drinking blood.” He encircled her wrist with one hand. “You’re so tiny for a Nephilim. So very fragile. Like a small doll, you are. I could do things to you you’ve never imagined. There is an ecstasy in making love and sharing blood like no other I have ever known. And I am old.”

  Raven wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her free of Alaric. “I assure you, Alaric, was she a doll, the only one to play with her would be me.”

  “Possessive, are we.”

  “Very.” Raven’s sable eyes narrowed.

  Alaric sat back in his chair and eyed the angry angel, his lips quirking up into a slight grin. “Ah, very well, Raven, but if you decide you would like to share…”

  “I won’t.”

  “Alaric.” Charity said.

  “How sweet my name sounds on your lips.”

  She flushed. “Would you explain to me what…who the Nephilim are?”

  His eyes widened for a moment, and he leaned forward to look at Raven. “Surely you’ve explained this to her, Raven.”

  “Are you questioning my judgment, Alaric?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. But surely you realize she should know the basics of who she is.”

  “In truth, that’s precisely what I was doing when Myrddin and Aliceanna arrived.”

  “Okay, then, who are the Nephilim? Where do they come from?” She stopped when Raven held up a hand to halt her.

  “You know of the war between God and Lucifer?” Raven asked. She nodded. “Good. You know Lucifer was cast out of heaven, and a third of the angels chose to follow him, so I don’t have to cover that. Well, he and his horde were cast to the earth where they were to remain until the time of Judgment. They were already here when us Watchers left the heavens. Genesis 6:4, and I quote, ‘The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that the Nephilim are of the same angels that chose to follow Lucifer. Most of the angels cast out of heaven during that Great War remained as spirits and became demons as they fell towards the earth. But some took on earthly forms and walked the earth as men, though they still had the ability to take on their spirit form if they chose. Those are the Nephilim. The Nephilim as men were large, most towering above six feet, some even topping seven feet. For that time on the earth when men were much smaller, such men as the Nephilim were considered giants. They were bigger, stronger, and much more evil than man had ever been or would ever be. The Nephilim lived on the earth as bloodthirsty savages for millennia, tormenting men until around 10,000 B.C. Men tired of living in fear, tired of being food for the Nephilim, and so a particular group of men—a forgotten race known as the Shilesian—joined together and fought the Nephilim. Only one species would survive the battle, and only one species could live on the earth. So, in what is now considered North Africa, the fight was waged. For ten years they fought, with the Nephilim winning easy victories over their weaker human adversaries.”

  “In time,” Alaric interrupted, “the immortals, too, rose against the Nephilim.”

  “Who are the immortals?” she asked.

  Alaric raised a brow and glanced at Raven as if silently asking him if he’d told her anything at all of import. “I am an immortal. Vampires and Beastmen are Immortals. Ghouls, imps and chanda are as well, but they’re of the Void and come from the Nephilim. They fought on the side of their creators.”

  “Are you quite finished?” Raven asked.

  Alaric shrugged.

  “A man appeared from the western lands,” Raven resumed. “He was no warrior. Still, he promised he could end the fighting forever. Desperate and feeling all hope was lost, the human warriors and immortals decided to hear the man out. Then, they decided to put his plan into action. In a move that is legend among my kind, the Shilesian warriors, under the guidance of the sorcerer, raided a Nephilim camp under the cover of darkness. The man used the old sorcery that had been handed down to him from his ancestors. The same sorcery taught by Azriel. The humans surprised the arrogant Nephilim in their sleep and struck down many of their numbers before they could take on their spirit forms and regenerate, while the sorcerer set a curse on them that expelled them from the realm of earth. Never again could they cross the barrier between worlds to inhabit earth again, and to ensure their imprisonment, no human could ever cross the barrier from earth to their realm. The Nephilim were effectively, trapped.”

  She couldn’t begin to digest this. This all was simply too bizarre. “And Azriel is looking for the Nephilim. But why?”

  Myrddin picked up the story here. “The Nephilim are trapped beyond the earthly realm in a place called Hir na Gog. Over the centuries, many Nephilim have tried unsuccessfully to return to the earth. Every one of them has died. Some last a day in the earthly realm, most only last minutes. They simply cannot exist on earth anymore.”

  “But if they had a human within their world,” Raven interrupted, “they could mate with that human and take on human characteristics and journey back to the earth. Though such a thing is impossible because no humans or anything else can bear the journey from earth to the Hir na Gog. Only a Nephilim can travel from the earthly realm to the territory where the Nephilim have been exiled. Do you see the problem?”

  “And that is where you come in, sweetness,” Alaric said.

  “Because I’m half human and half Nephilim? I’d be able get to Hir na Gog, wouldn’t I?”

  “Yes! And once you were there you could mate with your ancestors and…”

  “They’d take on my human characteristics and be able to come back to earth.”

  “Precisely,” Raven said, “And that is why Azriel wants you. Once you freed the Nephilim, they would join forces with Azriel and wreak all manner of evil on the earth. The Nephilim have had centuries to rage about their exile, centuries to plan their revenge. If they return to earth, life as you know it would change.”

  She shoved her plate away. “Suddenly I’m not hungry any more.”

  She was silent as the five made their plans. This was too much to digest. No wonder Raven didn�
��t want her looking at Azriel. Already she’d allowed herself to be seduced by his power and softened by his beauty. Allowing herself to fall prey to Azriel would mean ruin. Not just for her, but for everyone. It was too much. How on earth was this possible? If she was half Nephilim, that meant that her mother had… Oh, gosh. She wished Raven had told her this earlier, before she had phoned her mother to tell her she was safe and not to worry. She would have questioned Joanne about this, made her confess the truth of it.

  “So, we’re decided,” Myrddin was saying, “Alaric can ensure the support of the coven leaders and thus the covens should war become eminent. All we need do now is locate Figlio.”

  “Figlio?” Damon, who had been gazing at Raven like a love-struck puppy, shook himself from his stupor. “I have seen Figlio. Before I went to you, Alaric.”

  “Where?” Raven demanded.

  “He has a place in Florida. Very secluded and very private.”

  “But I know of that place. I searched it for him and found it empty.”

  Damon shrugged. “That’s where I saw him last.”

  “No doubt, Raven,” Alaric suggested, “he knows of your presence and has gone into hiding. He doesn’t want to see you. Refuses even to acknowledge you. For someone quite so old, he is behaving rather like a brat.”

  “Can you find him?” Raven asked.

  “Even if I find him, there’s no guarantee he will come back with me. Nevertheless, Damon and I will leave tomorrow. I’ll also leave word with the coven leaders that we are to meet to discuss the Azriel situation and plan for the possible battle.”

  “In the meantime,” said Myrddin, “Aliceanna and I will set a protective shield around the house. Azriel will be able to breach it of course, but not without us knowing.”

  Raven rose from the table, pulling Charity up with him. “Very good.”

  “Until tomorrow, then,” Alaric declared.

  Chapter Seven

  Charity followed Raven up the stairs to their rooms. She thought she wanted to be alone with him again, but as he led her up the stairs she wasn’t so sure. She’d been given too much to think about. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and sleep. Forget about this day and everything that had happened to her. Wake up tomorrow fresh, and maybe find this had all been a dream. But she wouldn’t hold out hope for that.