Page 38 of Up In Flames

“Undercover and, get this, posing as a human. At least, that’s what I understood, but I was a little out of it with all the drugs and pain.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze as much as I can hold of it. “But you’re better now.”

He nods.

“Pretty quick healing time, actually.” Which it is. Now that I’m thinking about it, he should still be bedridden, not engaging in highly energetic sexual encounters.

“Yeah. I guess.”

My thoughts whirl around for a bit before I say, “Not being human. That does sound crazy.”

Sampson nods. “Yup.”

From what I’ve noticed, Sampson isn’t the typical male—except for right now. I can’t believe I have to drag information out of him on such a fascinating topic. “Did he say anything else?”

Another shrug. His disturbance ripples the air between us. “Well, let’s see, what other craziness did he spout? Something about questioning whether The Council had sent me, and why I didn’t know the codes. Capital ‘T.’ Capital ‘C.’ At least, that’s what it sounded like. Like, The White House. As if there’s only one, and everybody should recognize the name.”

“I have something like that in my vampire books. The Council is what the vampires call their ruling body.”

“I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a vampire.” Sampson tosses me a quick smile.

“Probably not, since there’s no such thing.” I find my feet and lay my hand on his hip. “Why would he think you’re pretending to be an MFD firefighter? A—a human?” Even for me, vampire writer extraordinaire, the last part of the sentence seems ridiculous.

“I don’t know. Maybe my height? It seems to be what people first notice about me.” Again, there’s an edge to his voice, but he shrugs and smiles down at me again. “Anyway, nothing to worry about. He doesn’t know where I live.”

“But he probably knows where you work since everyone knows you plunged into a fire. And he must know your name, right? What else did he say? Was he threatening?”

“Not threatening, no, but he did say something about, umm, nephlim? Nephleem? Something like that, anyway. Oh, and Philistines, as in the group Sampson fought against in the Bible. He was enraged with my name. I mentioned Goliath, asked if all the Philistines were giants…”

“But?”

No sooner do I ask than an electric zap, having nothing to do with sex, pierces through my brain. My ass finds the chair as I plop into it, my mouth gaping open as a theory explodes across my skull. It’s just like when the plot of a novel detonates in the beginning pages. It doesn’t unfurl in measured paces. It hurls itself around my mind, except this is real life. “Shit.”

“Nina, what is it? What’s wrong?” He leans over me, covering me like an extra large umbrella while he peers anxiously into my eyes. “Are you okay? You’re all flushed.”

I snap my jaw shut, shake my head, then nod. “Yes. No. Nephilim? That’s what this guy, Xyonis Tull, that’s what he said?”

Sampson shrugs, but he crouches down next to my chair so we can see eye-to-eye. “Maybe. Does it mean something to you?”

“Yeah. And it should to you, too, except we’re never taught the ancient stories in school, or at church.” All the tales… and suddenly, I can see how Sampson fits them perfectly. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

Well, I didn’t see it because Nephilim are myth, not real. There’s that. Plus, I’ve spent most of my days not thinking about Sampson, so there’s no reason I would have put two and two together. Though I was researching giants, maybe a year ago. The subject nagged at my brain. I put it down to being bored with the Dunleaven vampires, but maybe… maybe I was thinking of Sampson subconsciously?

But I could just be jumping at nothing, at a plot that will dead-end at the intersection of reality, where all my pretty two plus two ideas don’t add up to four, but five. Maybe I’m forcing a combination that doesn’t make sense. Surely, accident exists somewhere in the world? Surely not everything has to be connected?

There’s really only one way to be sure.

I reach out to fold back his beautiful auburn hair that’s hanging over his eyes. “Let’s take the food to my place. You’re going to have to duck a lot because of the ceilings and doorframes, but I have a book on giants that I need you to see. And before you start ragging on me for the pejorative term, I think you’d better do some reading.”

“You think the Philistines were giants.” But he doesn’t say the words as a question. He says them with a sort of dread.

I don’t have a chance to explain about the Nephilim because luckily, Robert comes back with two fabric bags filled with food, and a bottle of red wine. My giant tells the restaurant owner to add the cost to his tab. I’m about to argue, but he’s already looking too freaked out by my earlier words.

Instead, when we’re back on the street, I apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And, um, thanks for the food. I can split the cost. What kind of cash app thing do you use?”

He waves his free hand through the air before wrapping it around my shoulders. “I was going to tell you before, so there’s no confusion between us, but then I was distracted by your tears, and more pleasantly distracted by your gorgeous body.”

“I’m sorry. You must have thought I was insane, breaking down into tears.” And I can’t tell him why. I can’t tell him its because he moved me so much, I had no choice.