Page 61 of Up In Flames

“Now, don’t be too hasty.” Xy drones on about facts that don’t matter, but when he gets to the essential part, he pauses. “Your mother, Scilla, is the Premier’s daughter. Good stock, as I said. Samyazza’s get. But something happened after you were born. She went… weird.”

“Maybe getting gang-raped by imprisoned evildoers will do that to a person,” Sampson snaps.

“Maybe. Heard she volunteered and knew what she was getting into, though. Still, the reality might not have matched up to the honor done her.”

Wow. He’s so out of touch, it’s impressive.

“Anyway,” he continues, “whatever happened to her, she got spooked after you were born. Rumor is that she joined up with The Faction, a group of rebel Neph who wish to make peace with The Enemy, which is a fool’s errand. The Enemy doesn’t make deals. There’s no forgiveness. We’re dirty souls to everyone in Heaven, twisted, and destined only for Lucifer’s company in the eternal flames, but somehow, those idiot Neph must have convinced Scilla she could be forgiven for her blood. I’m guessing, judging by your hands and feet, that The Faction were the ones who had you maimed, probably so you’d fit in better with humans. The bastards. At least they didn’t take your teeth.”

Sampson breathes deep. A clear war twists his features, but when he leans in and reaches for the other side of my face so as to pull me into him for a kiss on my cheek, he’s gentle. So gentle. He looks deep into my eyes. “I’m so sorry for getting you involved with all this… all these capital letter names like The Council and The Faction and The Watchers and Nephilim. But it’s not too late.”

I don’t know where the sudden arctic blast comes from. It sweeps from the unknown to travel like icy fingers tickling up and down my spine. A feeling of dread wells within my belly.

Fine. Maybe it’s his cum still settling, but I don’t think so. Because the look in his eyes says he’s about to destroy me.

CHAPTER 20

Sampson

No forgiveness.

The way Xy said it doused me like an icy plunge into the Arctic Sea. Absolute. No coming back from it, not because of what I’ve done, but because of what I was born.

But I knew it, anyway, the moment he told me my father was an angel. I’ve done the research. I didn’t want to lay it on Nina. I thought I could be clear of the worst of it since I had to be more human than Watcher after all these generations. But I’m not, and I never can be. I’m going to die and become a demon. I’m cursed.

And when I look at Nina, I can see that she sees it, too, though she doesn’t want to. It was right there in the Bible. Exodus 34:7. Somehow, the verse stuck in my head. I didn’t know why, then. I know why, now.

The sins of the father are visited up to the third and fourth generations. That’s what the Bible says. At the time, I felt an overwhelming relief that even if I was a giant, even if I was, truly, this terrible thing called a Nephilim—even if all this mythology turned out to be true—then at least I was far more removed than four generations from the original Watchers and their sins.

In one single conversation, Xy ruined any hope I had for the future. Because a Watcher is my father—a raping, power-mad, fucked-up excuse for an angel gave me life. And when I die, according to the lore, I’m going to Hell to become the worst thing in existence.

There’s no way I can bring what I am into Nina’s world. And a child—the what-ifs already concerned me. Now, having a child is impossible. He or she would only be the second generation, and I can’t inflict demonhood and eternal damnation upon an innocent.

“It’s okay, Sampson,” Nina whispers.

But it’s not, and a sudden horrifying thought clutches at my brain. What if she hadn’t been on birth control? What if we’d allowed a life to be sparked between us? I’d be responsible for cursing another innocent soul to Hell just for being born.

Like me. I can’t even send up a silent prayer that her birth control works, because God doesn’t want to hear from me. I’m the enemy.

I’m going to Hell. To the eternal flame. Because of what I was born. I can’t quite make the fact stick. And yet, it’s stuck all over me just the same. I wear it like a new hair shirt that scratches and makes me bleed.

Somehow, I manage to get rid of Xy, promising I’ll talk to him soon. He wants something from me. I’m pretty sure it has to do with The Council, or maybe setting me up as king while he rules from behind me. He can’t understand the horror I feel at the very idea. Even before my world crumbled around me in glittering shards, I wouldn’t have been interested, except in an intellectual way. Now?

I’ve been reading late at night while Nina sleeps. Throughout history, the giants have been responsible for destroying many cultures across the globe. Now, they’re responsible for destroying my world. And Nina’s. Because when I turn away from the door, she’s standing there with tears in her eyes, hands clasped together, biting her lip, and waiting for me to say the words that neither of us wants me to say.

But I don’t have a choice. I never did. I just didn’t know it.

“Please, don’t,” she begs softly.

I shake my head. “Nothing I can do. Apparently, there was nothing I ever could do, or refrain from doing, that would have made a difference. I only have one choice that will maybe allow me to live with what I am, and that’s to spare you from what… what I am.” My throat catches on the last word. It’s like discovering I’ve mass-murdered little furry creatures in my sleep. I feel dirty. Disgusting. Vile and wretched. I want to scrub my soul with steel wool. And I can’t. There’s no way to make me clean.

“You’re the man I love.”

“I’m not. I’m not a man at all, except maybe a little.” I take a deep breath before I add, “I’m sorry. I really am deeply sorry that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t allow you to shoulder this with me.”

“Sampson…”

She starts to move toward me, but I slide around her and stalk to our bedroom.