Dark Nephilim (Always Dark Angel Book 2)

by JN Moon

  “Okay. Well, maybe I’ll show you sometime. For now I just need to be alone for a bit. I never worked as an artist, I just create. If I was good at art, I would have a living from it. But what will you do next? I mean I can’t imagine that you are going to be content staying with us, in Rachel’s home. What did you do when you were not hunting my kind?”

  “What, let you in on my secret?” He paused and I could sense he didn’t want to talk about his private life. “Okay, as you have so graciously taken me into your lives, I see it only fitting that I let you into mine. And I do appreciate it. Without you two, I may be dead in the street by now, driven crazy by the insatiable hunger.

  “When I need to get to have a break, I take a trip to Sardinia. I prefer the South and as it’s a small island there’s usually none or only a few immortals there. If there are any vampires, I either kill them or they leave me well alone. For me, being on a tiny island in the sun and the clear warm sea, I can forget myself. I spend my days reading, swimming, and diving. I like to mix and blend in and sometimes meet up with friends. I have a villa there; it’s my home from home. I’d take you there, but I wouldn’t want you to kill the locals. It’s my sanctuary; it has been now for decades. I contemplated going there after this happened, but I feared I might rage out of control, and so needed to find someone to help me first.”

  “I can imagine that, a perfect place to forget. I guess that’s what I need, Rachel and me. I like the fact you get away from other immortals. A place where I could create and be away from the others. It seems where ever immortals are, trouble follows fast. That annoys the hell out me.”

  He nodded an acknowledgment of that. It’s as if being different from humans sends a beacon out, I would need to find a way to hide that beacon.

  Before I left, another day passed and we slept soundly until night came. I convinced Rachel and Marcus to hunt together. I didn’t need blood so often now and the craving was more psychological. Rachel looked unsure, but Marcus reassured her and I went off to my flat which I hadn’t seen in nearly a year. Contradictory, I knew, as I had been jealous of Marcus, but now I knew he was trustworthy. I needed some time away and I would rather know she was safe with him than another. You never knew what was lurking in our paranormal world.

  I had to go and sort out mundane tasks. Nathaniel had, in the past, shown me lucrative ways to make passive income, and along with his generosity, he’d also given me a very large sum of money.

  When I got to my place and opened the door the smell was rancid. I had a ton of mail piled up, but funnily enough I felt a sense of ease just putting the heating on and sitting down and ploughing through all the letters, all the junk mail. Even vampires get junk mail! At least for the first century perhaps. I don’t know, maybe forever!

  Thoughts flooded back to when I was first turned and how Rachel had tried to help me at the very beginning of my change and how I nearly bled her dry. I felt a slight relief that even though that was heinous, I had somehow found the strength to stop myself from draining my girlfriend.

  I wondered for a moment how Rachel and Marcus were getting on, but then my attention was drawn back to something in my flat. A faint sound from my bedroom. In an instant a shiver tingled down my spine, the hairs on my arms rigid. A slight familiar scent, though very faint, was in the air that I hadn’t noticed when I first came in.

  I knew then, I knew what I would find when I opened my bedroom door, but I didn’t know the state he would be in.

  And there he was huddled up on my bed, charred and bloody and burnt. Nathaniel.

  Rachel had tried to kill him by dousing him in petrol after she’d plunged a fire poker through him. He had turned psychotic, which was why she had done it, but I also knew my treatment towards him had been wrong, too. I blamed myself. Had I treated him better he may have stayed stable, but too much had happened and all of us had lost our minds, our reason, very quickly. Not surprising under the circumstances being caught up in the war of the Elite. Nathaniel was an old and powerful vampire to be sure, but as he huddled there his vulnerability was prominent.

  He didn’t look up and slowly I went over to him and put my hand on his arm and just sat there.

  At length he spoke, his voice strained, “I know I went crazy. When you turned on me, it reminded me of one I had loved long ago and whom I lost. That pain, it never healed, it only grew, it festered inside me.” He took a huge breath, and his voice was strained. “I allowed Rachel to try and take my life. I’d suffered so long. Mortal loss never lessens over time. Unfortunately, it seems I cannot easily die.” His voice was weak, laboured, and he made no eye contact. A small shrivelled version of the outgoing and confident vampire I had known before.

  “I’m sorry for my part. It shouldn’t have gotten to that. The madness of the eugenics project and taking down those in charge; we all lost control. And it looks like things aren’t going to change either.”

  Nathaniel looked beyond help, fearful. It was clear that he was weak—too weak to feed, so I bit my wrist instinctively, knowing my powerful blood would help him but how much I couldn’t be sure. He took it softly and as he drank I couldn’t help but be horrified at his appearance. His once long, dark curly hair was no more. What was left was black and scorched. His skin was blackened and blistered. Being immortal, some healing had started, but the burning had been so intense that most of his skin hadn’t grown back yet.

  I sat on the bed close to him, my legs outstretched, and cradled his seared head in my lap whilst he drank from my wrist. He fell asleep almost straight away and I sat there watching over him. He was like a brother and he had, after all, in the beginning of my immortal existence, saved me.

  I remember that so vividly. I was lost in fear of myself having just killed an innocent woman in the sways of bloodlust, beside myself with fear, fear of myself. Then he found me and became like a brother. God knows what I would have become without him.

  After a while, I carefully moved him and pulled the covers over him whilst I went for a shower. I sent Rachel a text message to tell her I was fine but needed to stay away for a few days, but she didn’t respond.

  After a shower, I was pulling on some clean jeans when I had the oddest sensation of being watched, though there was clearly nothing in my flat with me, except Nathaniel who was sound asleep.

  And nothing I could sense either, but still I felt eyes staring into me. A cold shiver ran through me. Not knowing whether or not it was my imagination or something real, I ignored it and went out. It was early in the morning now, around two-thirty and the streets were empty. I went to the largest park in the city to hunt after Nathaniel had taken my blood.

  It, too, was oddly quiet, but I managed to find some vile excuse for a human. But what puzzled me was why the evil always smelled so bad? It was a thing. Their stench was like rotten bodies, I only noticed this now that I was immortal.

  Having to alter his mind was a chore, but required less effort than burying a body. This one was particularly nasty and I was glad that I drank him almost dry so he had no chance of harming others. Changing the mentality of the damned was never too hard, for evil mortals are weak. If they were strong they wouldn’t be evil—kind of a paradox for them. I left him believing he was unable to harm anything and to live humbly.

  Back at my flat, Nathaniel was still sleeping and already started to look better. His skin, now a pinkish cream, was healing and the blisters fading. His breathing sounded smoother.

  I grabbed a blanket and settled down on my sofa to rest, but that feeling of being watched came back. Something was unsettling and sinister. I tried to ignore it and shut my eyes, but the intensity of the feeling grew. Sensations of constriction an icy presence of death, maybe this was the fallout of Nathaniel’s horrific experience, and I could sense it. I didn’t know.

  I tossed and turned, trying to block the impression. I punched the couch cushion to rid myself of the anger that this intruder was in my home and could unsettle me. That it was even here made me angry,
yet all the turning and punching couldn’t get rid of it. I finally stilled, choosing to ignore it, contenting myself in thinking that this presence was too cowardly to confront me directly. I finally fell asleep, but it wasn’t restful.

  I dreamt of some evil thing consuming Rachel, enveloping her and taking her away. but I only saw glimpses of how it looked, more I had a sense of its intention, wicked and spiteful. And she was lost to me and I was powerless to help her. A feeling of isolation and emptiness made me wake with a start and instinctively pull the blanket up around me. Sickness churned in my stomach and a cold sweat prickled across my skin. As I sat up, that presence had gone and it was warm in my home, but I still felt cold. Trying to find some normality, I looked at my phone. No messages.

  I phoned her immediately, but again no answer so I phoned Marcus.

  “Hey? You okay?”

  “I don’t know. Is Rachel there? Is she alright? She hasn’t returned my messages. I was worried. I’m coming over.”

  “No need, just a minute.” He spoke as quietly as was possible for him. “She’s a bit pissed off, Anthony. You’ve been gone a few days; you should be with her. I get that you need your space, but you might get that permanently. I’m trying to keep her company.”

  “Okay, I think, thanks.” I tried not to sound agitated by his answer.

  I went to check on Nathaniel and give him more of my blood before heading back to Rachel. I’d take her out for the evening—not looking for blood, but somewhere different. The cinema or theatre. Then I could take her away for a week somewhere, like Marcus did with his bolt-hole. I knew it would do us good to get away, and I figured Marcus could by now look after himself for a bit. I might ask if we could go to his place.

  “I’m leaving. I need to see Rachel, stay here and rest, I’ll be back very soon.”

  He didn’t speak. He took my blood and rested. His skin looked so much better, not a hundred percent, but clearer and his hair was growing back fast. I felt his strength as his mouth locked onto my wrist and I heard the pumping of my blood into him. He was starting to look more like himself.

  Where Angels Tread

  Anthony

  As I arrived at Rachel’s home I found Marcus on the sofa reading. He sat up as I came in. “She’s out, I’m afraid. I said you were coming!”

  “What did she say?” Regret washed through me, and anger seeing him there and that was where I was supposed to be.

  “Nothing and I tried not to read her mind. I don’t want to get in the middle of things. She’s pissed that you went, that’s all I know. Maybe give her a few days to calm down?”

  Her smile came into my memory, when we held each other and stared into each other’s eyes until we would both start laughing, knowing how lucky we were to have one another. That warm fuzzy feeling flooding me as I felt I would melt into her. I ought to find her now, to apologise and get Nathaniel out of my flat and stand by my lover. Gulping, isolation overcame my heart knowing I was too late. On the shelf by the tv, the photo of us taken on holiday a few years ago. When we were human, when we were in love.

  My heart fell into my boots, why did I always mess up? As a mortal I was never this inconsistent. Sometimes I really hated being a vampire.

  “I had an awful dream that something happened to her. I want to see her. Are you sure you don’t know anything else? Please don’t say you don’t to protect me, I’m already angry at myself.”

  “She’s fine; I’ll keep an eye on things. Don’t worry so much.” He returned to his book, but my anger welled up. It was easy for him to say that, sitting there in her home reading. That should be me, and if we hadn’t of met him...

  “Anthony, if you hadn’t of met me, Nathaniel would’ve still showed up at your place.” Completely unfazed by my erratic thoughts he got up, walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Look, I’ve had my share of lovers,” shaking his head he sighed. “Human women can be...tricky. Especially if you’re an immortal. Their jealousy, insecurity,” grunting he continued, “God knows how much harder if you’re a vampire. But supernatural women, men, that’s a whole new level of...” he stopped here considering his words carefully, “Complexity. Her emotions run high- as do yours. Just chill the fuck out, you’ve got a lifetime to argue with each other.” Smiling he turned and fell back onto the sofa.

  I decided to head off to the studio and turn my anxiety into creativity. Before I was a vampire, this is what I did. I used art to express what I couldn’t face emotionally. It was better than having all my feelings bottled up.

  I wanted to create a sculpture that was an abstract mythological beast—half man, half bird. I worked furiously like never before. Within twelve hours I made the kind of progress that would have taken weeks, maybe months when I was human. I was relentless. I melded metal, soldering the structure together, cooling it, fusing it. After some hours my hair and face were damp with sweat and dirt. But my mind felt rested and my soul felt alive again.

  The sculpture was twisted and beautiful, its face calling to me and its body, sublime and dark. Poised as if to spring forward, the creature was made from metal strips, obscure and tormented. I stood back in wonder. It depicted something from within both beautiful and terrible; the heart of this vampire.

  I sat down in front of it to immerse myself in its presence, its essence, wiping the sweat from my face onto my sleeves. I couldn’t take a picture of it. That would seem too demeaning to its abominable power. I was astonished at my ability. When I'd been human, I always dreamed of being a great artist, but I also always failed at making the grade. I finished the sculpture and felt a strong compulsion to see Rachel. I’d vented my emotions for now so I could see my lover again.

  Feeling alive and refreshed I headed back to Rachel and Marcus. I passed a few vampires on my way back, they kept their distance from me. What they had heard about me, whether about Emidius or taking down the Elite, I didn’t know which, but I wasn’t keen on interacting with most vampires.

  I had noticed that there were fewer vampires after the war. I supposed many had fled or been killed, but either way it was better for the humans.

  Thinking about getting back to Rachel’s home promoted me to think about Nathaniel. I would have to try and keep his name out of mind with Marcus prying into my thoughts

  It was quiet in the house when I let myself in and I noticed Marcus wasn’t about. I crept up the stairs and opened the door to Rachel’s bedroom to find her fast asleep. I stood there watching her and then slipped in beside her, wrapping myself around her cool body.

  Sleep fell upon me fast and dreams of disturbing and sinister creatures enveloped my sub-consciousness. I dreamt of a man, young and covered with tattoos including some on his face but strikingly handsome. He stood over me with my life in his young hands, laughing and speaking in a language that I didn’t recognise. His long black hair flowed gently behind him as if he was caught in a breeze and the way he looked at Rachel repulsed me.

  An awful power emanated from him. He seemed a malevolent creature.

  Shadows encased me and I felt confined, claustrophobic and smothered by dark figures, similar to the attack that made me what I am. Deep and ethereal voices echoed around where ever I was.

  But these dark figures were different and reminded me of Marcus.

  I was vaguely aware of thrashing and turning in my sleep and awoke some hours later, my dead heart pumping furiously. Looking at Rachel she was peaceful and slept like the dead. I had to get up, I couldn’t sleep, adrenalin coursing through me. It was only five-thirty am. I went to find Marcus, but still he wasn’t there.

  Steadying myself in the shower my eyes wanted to close, and my nerves seemed shot. I went to wake Rachel. My instinct told me that danger was upon us.

  Marcus made me jump. He came bounding up the stairs, his expression one of shock, his eyes wide.

  “I know,” I said quietly. “Are they here now?”

  He nodded and looked at my lover who was so oblivious to the danger.


  “Get them away from here. You promised,” I said as calmly as I could muster.

  His face a mix of concern and defeat, he turned and fled back down the stairs.

  “Rachel, Rachel, get up. We’ve got to go!” I spoke urgently shaking her.

  She mumbled and made no effort to move so I had to step up my efforts. I had to speak quietly. “Get up, we’re in danger.” I threw some clothes at her and she sat up quickly looking confused. I put my finger to my lips to keep her from talking loudly, hoping our presence could go undetected for as long as possible.

  She looked at me in shock, whether for waking her or due to our situation, probably both. I used the opportunity to text Nathaniel. Hopefully he could help or bring help if needed. Sent. In a minute she was dressed and her face was stern with determination. Both of us breathing steadily, we crept towards the back bedroom window.

  I could hear Marcus talking to others downstairs and felt the cold air through the open front door. So far so good.

  Life though! When you’re trying to be quiet you seem to make more noise. The window was old and opening without force impossible.

  Neither of us spoke and our footsteps were light, but we couldn’t control the squeak and groan of the window opening. We held our breath, hoping no one heard us open it. When we heard nothing change, I poked my head out the window.

  And below they waited for us. Marcus’s kin. The nephilim.

  There was no point in trying to run now. Even if we could succeed in out-running them, which would be hard, we would have to stay running indefinitely.

  Looking out I saw a woman in a brown leather bomber jacket, cargo pants and boots, weapons strapped about her, stood below watching me. Her short black hair highlighted her stern beauty. Next to her, a guy with bright red hair and mirrored glasses grinned up, looking expectantly at us to make a run for it. Unlike the boy from my dream, I didn’t feel an evil presence from them, but I didn’t feel a kind one either.