Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
As far as the preternatural world was aware, Lou’s children lived in hell. Naomi was the exception, but hiding the truth of her parentage kept her safe. She might otherwise be used by demons or celestials to either gain Lou’s cooperation or punish him.
It wasn’t distrust that kept her from sharing the truth with the rest of her lair. She didn’t believe they were a threat to her. It was simply that the best way to keep something secret was to ensure a minimal amount of people were aware of it. And it wasn’t as if her lair needed to know, was it?
Her mom had entrusted Jolene with the information, and then later Alfie. Naturally, Jolene had felt comfortable sharing it with her psi-mate, Beck. Once Naomi formed the anchor bond with Tobe, she’d revealed her secret to him. Jolene’s twin grandchildren, Ciaran and Khloë, only knew because they’d overheard Naomi talking to Tobe about it a year ago. She wasn’t worried that they’d blab—the twins would never endanger anyone in their lair.
She gently nudged a sword with her foot—the weapons were the only evidence left of her intruders, since she’d burned every corpse. “The clerics clearly didn’t know the truth of Lou’s nature, or they wouldn’t have thought he could be responsible for the conception of the Antichrist.”
Most non-demons didn’t know the facts. Satan, a hell-dwelling monster of sorts, was the true anthesis of God; his offspring would be considered the Antichrist. Lou was a fallen celestial being—singular in some ways, but not as powerful as Satan.
“That tells us that these particular Eliouds aren’t in contact with celestials,” said Alfie from the sofa, his burly build stiff with angry tension. “They would otherwise have realized they’d mistranslated the prophecy.”
“The Uppers rarely bother with Eliouds,” her mother, Tia, pointed out, sitting beside him. “They don’t like any non-celestial species to have holy blood.”
Sad as it seemed—not to mention a complete overreaction, in Naomi’s opinion—the upper realm had sought to wipe out not only the Nephilim but all their children eons ago. Some of those children, however, had been hidden too well for the celestials to find.
At this point in time, Nephilim blood was so diluted that the only preternatural trait being passed through generations of Eliouds was the ability to channel divine power. But those people would live human lives, oblivious to their heritage, unless located by monkhoods and taught how to access that ability.
While some had become clerics and formed holy sects like the one that had targeted Naomi, it was possible that not all had done so; that some Eliouds had decided to instead ignore their ancestry and blend with humans. But no one knew for sure.
“It amazes me that clerics would worship God, given that the upper realm once targeted the Nephilim and their descendants for death,” Naomi mused. “I mean, I know they can’t utilize their ability to channel divine power unless they have the utmost faith in God. It’s a literal necessity. But if I were them, I’d personally rather forfeit that ability than serve a being who had so many of my people slaughtered.”
“I think they initially did it in the hope that the Uppers would leave them alone,” said Jolene, standing near the fireplace with Beck. “Sort of ‘Look what good boys we are—founding monkhoods, devoting ourselves to God, serving him in all ways—there’s no need to kill us.’ But at some point over the generations, clerics began to maintain that God let them be because he’d chosen them to do his work.” She snorted derisively. “I suspect the only reason the Uppers haven’t targeted them for death is that the Nephilim blood in them is so very weak.”
Beck sighed. “A lot of religious fanatics pick and choose what they believe and twist the facts to suit them.”
Amen. No pun intended.
“I’ll use the description you have of the emblem on their tunics to find out what I can about these guys, Nome,” Khloë piped up from the armchair.
“Why bother?” asked Alfie. “They’re dead.”
“There could be more of them,” Khloë pointed out. “Plus, I’m curious to know more about the prophecy they quoted. It’ll be interesting to hear it in full. The language the main cleric spoke isn’t one that I recognize, though.”
“It’s a very ancient dialect that has its roots in Egypt,” Naomi told her. “The part that they thought stated ‘For she who bears the mark will birth the child of the devil’ is actually ‘For she who bears the mark is the progeny of the devil.’ The meaning of a lot of ancient writings gets lost in translation. That appears to have been the case here.”
“Did they describe the mark?” asked Khloë.
“No. It has to be somewhere in the prophecy, though.”
“Plenty of old forecasts talk of the Antichrist bearing a mark—it’s even in the Bible. So that doesn’t give us a lead on which prophecy it might be,” said Ciaran, perched on the arm of his twin’s chair.