The Nephilim: Book One (4 page)

“Wow,” she grabbed one of his hands
and pulled it up closer to her face, “It’s so beautiful.” They were letters,
somehow she knew, and they made up a name. “Oh!” she dropped his hand and took
a step back from him, “I am so sorry.” She could feel her face turning red again.

He laughed lightly and shoved his
hands into his back pockets, “It’s all right.”

They stood in silence for a moment
more while Sophie willed herself to avoid making eye contact.

"Well," he awkwardly
shifted from one foot to the other then pointed to her book, "I hope you
find what you’re looking for." And with that, the man turned, evading the
cart that had tripped her, and disappeared between the rows of cases.

Sophie exhaled, covering her face
with the book. "Idiot," she murmured to herself. But then, he was so
familiar, just like the man she’d dreamt about. It was silly, she’d never met
him before, but she thought, maybe if she got another look at him it might make
sense.

She jumped in the direction he had
gone, peering between the stacks. He wasn’t there, so she hurried along the
shelves to the other end and quickly glanced down the aisle. Nothing. “Well,”
she said to herself with a sigh, “At least I’ve saved myself from further
embarrassment,” and feeling just a bit sad for herself, she fell into a chair
beside a pile of forgotten books.

"Agrippa," she repeated
to spur herself on and forcefully opened the text. The pages fanned out and
settled on a marked sheet, something she hadn’t noticed before. Sophie plucked
a scribbled on notebook paper that had been torn into a single, long strip,
from between the pages, and inspected the symbols upon it. They were
unrecognizable, largely circular and layered, but they weren’t the mystery she
was seeking to solve. It was pretty though, so she stuffed the paper into her
pocket and examined the marked page. There it was: Agrippa.

In approximately 1508 while Henry
Cornelius Agrippa worked in the Balearic Islands he took on a student of
unknown name. The student studied under Agrippa intently and was obsessed with
the occult, but he was into much darker magick than his teacher. Rumors of the
student suggested he was crazed and had mysterious contact with demons and the
underworld.

The student, who eventually took on
the misnomer Agrippa as well, fled from the country sometime after 1513 for
fear of persecution for witchcraft, renounced by even his former teacher. Tales
of his travels throughout Europe using a voluminous book of his own design to
heal as well as destroy crop up in histories for the following nine decades.
His tome, entitled
The Book of Agrippa
in homage to his idol, was said
to have direct links with Hell itself.

The Book of Agrippa
itself
is said to house the names of thousands of demons and incantations to summon
their power for personal use. It also allegedly describes, in graphic detail,
the inner workings of Hell and a hierarchy of demonic royals. The coveted book
is lost to occult scholars, most debating its existence, but is said to be
linked with the
The Book of Raziel
, another enigmatic tome containing
all earthly and celestial knowledge.

Sophie reread the page to herself
twice. The short insert seemed so incredibly important to her that, without a
second thought, she tore the page from the book and stuffed it in her pocket.
She stared at the tiny shreds left sticking up from the binding, amazed at
herself, then snapped the book shut and tossed it onto the stack beside her
where it fell behind.

"Sophie!" The bubbly
voice was unmistakable, and the moment Sophie looked up she saw Danielle at the
head of the stairs, her neon pink hair gathered into two puffy, pink balls atop
her head. She couldn't have seen her tear the page, though Sophie wasn't sure
it would matter much to Danielle anyway.

Rose followed close behind,
shushing her, "This is a library," she hissed sarcastically, "I
know you're not familiar with them, but you've got to be quiet."

They both stood on the landing,
dressed slightly more refined than the night before, but still in all dark
hues. Danielle didn't seem very hurt by Rose's comment, obviously used to them,
and bounded up to Sophie, "Hi!"

Sophie smiled back coyly, more than
a little intimidated without Mona around.

Rose sidled up beside Danielle,
"What are you doing up here all alone?" She had a strange, drawn-out
way of speaking, forcing the listener to hang on to her words.

"Uh," Sophie glanced
around, somehow forgetting what a library was for. Then it came to her,
"Just reading!" She pulled a random book from the pile with her free
hand.

Rose took it from her, "
The
History of the Modern Serial Killer
? Nice." She smiled broadly and
flicked her tongue across her teeth, "So, where's Mona?"

Sophie was relieved they didn't
discuss her reading material, "At home, I guess."

"What?" Danielle
scrunched up her face, "Thought she'd be here like, now. I mean, I totally
didn't think she'd bring you, but—"

Rose nudged Danielle, "She
didn't bring her," she reached up and untied her long, blue-black hair,
explaining with a pained expression, "Sophie came on her own, and Mona's
not here."

"And I don't think she's
coming," Sophie remembered the conversation she’d heard earlier.

"Why not?" Danielle
moaned childishly.

"Well, last night,"
Sophie paused. She almost revealed the fight she overheard, but redeemed
herself, "She was really tired. Still asleep when I left."

Rose thought as she ran long,
slender fingers through her dark locks, "She'll be here," she
decided.

"Well," Sophie stood,
"I think I'm going to go."

"Wait!" Danielle grabbed
her arm, "Why don't we talk?"

Sophie snatched herself away,
"Ah! Wow, you're hands are freezing!" The icy feeling lingered even
as Sophie rubbed at it.

Danielle looked down at her hand
and flipped it over a few times, "Yeah, it's a curse!" She laughed
until she was in hysterics.

Rolling her eyes, Rose instead made
conversation, "Anyway, Sophie, how did you like Lamia?"

"It was interesting," she
didn’t want to insult the women by hurrying off and tried to casually lean
against the bookshelves, slipping and catching herself. With a nervous smile,
she cleared her throat, "I've never been to a place like that
before."

The two grinned at one another
knowingly. "And, how did you like the men?" Danielle bit her lip and
scrunched up her nose.

Rose pulled one of her pigtails,
“Rude.”

"Oww!" Danielle grabbed
her head, "What? I just want to know what happened up on the roof last
night!"

"Oh no, nothing
happened!" Sophie waved her arms, her heartbeat quickening.

"You sure?" Danielle
leaned in close, the freed half of her hair swinging around. Rose did nothing
to stop her.

Sophie nodded, "Ask Mona. She
came up on the roof right after us."

Danielle fell back in her chair,
defeated, as she bunched her hair up again, "Figures."

Rose cocked her head, "Indeed,
it does." Sophie's questioning look spurred her on. "Mona would be
the one to interrupt any romantic encounter with Michael," Rose licked her
teeth again.

"Yeah, no kidding,"
Danielle looked over her shoulder to Rose, "She made it impossible for me
to have a
romantic encounter
with him at all!"

"No," Rose shook her
head, "I believe that was all you."

Danielle crossed her arms and
scowled.

"Listen," Sophie began,
"It doesn't matter because there wasn't any encounter to be interrupted.
He's too old for me anyway."

"Are you calling us old?"
Danielle perked back up, grinning playfully.

"No! I just mean a man his age
isn’t going to really be interesting in a teenager," she attempted to
defend herself, but realized this opened up an opportunity for her. She looked
from Danielle's cheery face to the sly smile on Rose's thin lips. If they wanted
to talk, then she’d talk. "While I think of it, what are you doing hanging
around with Mona anyway? She's only fifteen," she ventured cautiously.

"Oh," Rose cast off the
question, "We've known her forever."

Sophie thought this answer strange,
but knew it was all she was going to get from them.  With a glance out the
window at the darkening sky, she had no time to carry on, "I really do
have to go now, it's getting late."

Danielle pouted, "But it's
still so early."

"Sorry." With that,
Sophie quickly walked away from them and took to the stairs. She whisked
guiltily past the front desks, checking once for the papers in her pocket, and
out into the cool night. Leaving the women behind, she breathed a quick,
relieved sigh, but unbeknownst to Sophie, she was not truly alone.

When she rounded the corner, a
small voice sounded, calling her name. She stopped. Again, she heard her name,
whispered clearly, as if right in her ear, but when she turned, there was no
one. Suddenly, Sophie felt herself enveloped in a warm embrace from behind and
the world around her went black. Buildings, street signs, even the ground and
the sky vanished, and it all went silent. She glanced over her shoulder to see
a the girl there, white hair cascading down her shoulders and melting into the
extreme pallor of her skin. Her features were small and pointed and she wore a
smile that Sophie knew had to be for her, eyes squeezed shut. She never
remembered opening her mouth, or seeing the girl's face before, but her name
fell off her lips just the same, "Verrine."

The girl gasped and pulled back.
She then beamed and spun Sophie toward her, but the second time their skin met,
Sophie realized a stranger was touching her. She pushed the girl away,
"What are you doing? Who are you?"

She stood just before Sophie in the
moonlight, towering taller than any woman she’d before met, her odd clothing
alight in the breeze. Skirts seemed to be layered onto one another in pinks and
blacks and a lacy, gray top clung to her torso. She wore silver bands wrapped around
her upper arms and her feet were bare. Looking at Sophie with enormous, gray
eyes, she pouted, "Don't you know? You just said my name! It's
Verrine!" she quivered with excitement and adjusted the sack that hung
over her shoulder, "I can't believe I'm seeing you again, after all this
time."

"Seeing me again? I don't even
know you!" Sophie side stepped her, putting space between them but never
letting the stranger out of her sight.

"But Soph," she huffed,
"We—we’ve known each other since, well, since you were born and…" Her
voice trailed off and the smile slipped off of her face, "You really don't
remember?"

Sophie shook her head slightly,
afraid to take her eyes from the otherworldly girl.

Then the girl looked determined,
"Come on, of course you do, Soph."
Soph
. No one had called her
that in such a long time. "It's me. It's Vera. We were inseparable. And
your brother and I, we—"

"What do you know about
Eric?" Bravery welled up in Sophie at the mention of her brother.

"What?" Verrine narrowed
her eyes and shook her head, "No, Troi."

"I've only got one
brother," Sophie took a staggered breath then corrected herself, "Had
one brother. His name was Eric."

Verrine reached for Sophie's hand.
Her voice came out trembling and her stormy eyes glistened, "Please,
listen. I know you don't remember now, but—"

Sophie wretched her hand away,
remembering the white flash last time she touched a stranger. She couldn’t let
that happen again. "You don’t know me, and I don't know you."

Verrine made small fists then
reached her hand out again, "Please, just—damnit!" She looked about
enigmatically, "They’re coming.  Just, please, come with me, quick. I’ll
explain it all, but now isn’t the time."

"No!" Sophie stepped
backward, more afraid of herself than the stranger, "Leave me alone!"

She turned on her heel and fled.

***

A tear streaked across the old
leather and Verrine hurried to wipe at her face. Crying, at a time like this,
was reprehensible, she told herself. Instead, she removed the old book from her
bag and smiled. It was nice to see Sophie again after so long, even if she
didn't remember the past. It was strange, though, how the book had known where
Sophie was.  It was so easy, why hadn’t anyone done it sooner?

"Wicked beasts," she
snarled to herself. The danger of nearing strigori had cut her opportunity
short and she’d taken refuge in the darkness between two of the taller
buildings before letting her guard down.

"Who are you calling
wicked?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere. Verrine jumped up and
squeezed the book to her chest, but a blow to her back knocked her face down on
the pavement. The book flew from her hands and skidded to a stop a few yards
before her. She tried pulling herself up on her elbows, but the pain was more
than what she had expected. Something was still there, pinning her to the
ground.

The book lay a few yards away,
unscathed, and she sighed in relief when she saw, but then a figure stepped
from the shadows behind it. The silhouette of a woman bent down and reached
out.

"No!" Verrine threw out a
hand and sparks flickered at her fingertips, but immediately went out.
Confused, she looked at her hand, then helplessly back to the woman. Moonlight
fell on the pale face of the book's captor as she smiled and revealed two
glistening fangs hanging just over her bottom lip.

Verrine tried to glance over her
shoulder again, this time able to bear the pain long enough to see a second
woman with dark skin and brightly colored hair bending close to her ear.
"Want to join us for dinner?"

Verrine growled and pressed her
hands against the ground, pushing the now shrieking woman off just enough to
stand. In the same moment, the other woman appeared before her and hissed,
gripping Verrine’s arms and sinking in her claws.