The Naphil's Kiss (7 page)

***

BANG. The bullet whizzed over the top of the target, over the wall, and thudded into the badly scarred trunk of a gnarled jack pine. Peter snarled in frustration. He glanced at Mr. Smith, who was regarding him with a questioning expression.

“What?” Peter asked, irritated beyond measure by that quizzical look.

“You're normally a crack shot, my boy. What's wrong with you today? That's the fifth one you've missed.”

“I had a rough night,” Peter answered, not really wanting to explain why he was in such a funk.

Mr. Smith didn't speak. Just kept on giving him that annoying stare.

“Okay, I had a bad dream,” he spat out at last.

“About what?”

Peter felt his cheeks burn. The nightmare had been such a stupid one. “I'd rather not get into it.”

“Dreams are important,” Mr. Smith replied. “You might be a seer. Don't be embarrassed. Just tell me.”

Peter sulked but Smith did not relent.

“Fine,” the boy burst out. “I dreamed I was lying on the ground. I was trapped and couldn't move. And… someone… Josiah was standing over me. He said, `How do you like it, jackass?' and then he sort of… waved his hand, like he was picking something up. And then I woke up feeling like shit.”

Smith scowled at the obscenity but said nothing.

“Stupid dream, right?”

Still Smith didn't speak.

“It was just a dream, right?”

“I don't know. I've often wondered… after a confrontation with Josiah, more than one person has reported feeling… tired, drained. I don't know what it means. Maybe the boy is some kind of psychic vampire. I would give a lot to know who his mother was.”

Peter scoffed. “What a lot of hooey,” he sneered. “Psychic vampire?” He burst out laughing. Smith was really on a roll today.

“You'd be wise not to think yourself so clever,” Smith told Peter, effectively shutting down his mockery. “There's a great deal in this world you don't understand.”

Chapter 12

Montana 1998

“Come on, Josiah,” Annie urged, lacing her fingers through her boyfriend's and running down the white-tiled floors of the compound. Class had just ended for the day, and the two trainees hurried outside to enjoy the late-spring freshness. They passed by door after door of meeting rooms, classrooms, and apartment suites which lined the hallways of their home, and out onto the soft spring grass. The breeze they generated with their movements was fragrant with pine and flowers. Though the courtyard was completely encircled with a high white-stone wall, the adept nineteen-year-olds were more than able to climb over it and escape into the hills beyond. And that's just what they did. First Josiah clambered to the top, tearing the knee out of his blue jeans on the rough stone, so a hint of café au lait-colored skin peeked through. Bracing himself on the wall, he lowered his hand and grasped Annie's. Her complexion was lighter than his, a rich shade of caramel, but she remained his match physically; tall, long-limbed, and strong. Despite the ankle-length skirt which hampered her movements, she managed to climb up. For a moment they stood side by side on top of the wall, surveying the wide-open land beyond the compound. Up to this point, the L-shaped structure with its three-story tower, walled courtyard and pavilion at one end had been their entire world. But now, facing adulthood, they were both feeling curious about what might lay beyond the walls. Apart from the uneven Montana landscape, that is. From here, all they could see directly in front of them was a tree-covered hill. To the left, a deep depression in the earth had filled with soft grass and plants, creating a lovely meadow. To the right, level land stretched as far as the eye could see. Now, in May, every surface was covered in fragrant wildflowers of astonishing colors. Josiah hopped from the wall and helped Annie down, her long skirt billowing. He kissed her lips gently, and then they ran down the hill towards the meadow.

The warm spring sun beat down on them as they embraced in the hip-deep grass. They'd been doing this more and more lately, and Annie was starting to feel a little nervous about where it was all headed. Of course, she had every intention of marrying Josiah someday, but the clerics were quite determined that as many young people as possible would earn a white wedding. They didn't always succeed. Annie was quite sure she'd seen a little baby bump or two under the plain white wedding dresses which were their traditional garb, but she didn't want that. She wanted to wait. She wasn't certain, however, what Josiah had in mind. His determination to get her alone made her a bit suspicious. It was about time they talked about it.

“Josiah…”

Instead of listening, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Well, there was no harm in a kiss, right? They were practically engaged.

She returned his kiss, snaking her long, slender arms around his neck and opening her mouth to his. He was so sexy. His full lips compressed hers as he tasted her deeply. She knew he'd never kissed anyone else; they'd shared their first embrace years ago, when he officially asked her to be his girlfriend. Despite his lack of experience, he'd needed no education whatsoever, as their first kiss had been just as intoxicating as this one. It almost seemed as though he'd been born knowing how to please a woman. If so, being his wife would be… very nice. She couldn't wait. The rules stated they couldn't marry before the age of twenty, but that was less than a year away. It was about time they talked about it.

“Josiah…” she said, trying to begin the discussion, but his hand closed over her breast and her thought processes stopped completely. There was a brief sense of falling while being kept safe by his arms around her back, and then she was cradled by the earth, the tall grass waving around her head as her beloved lowered his mouth back to hers.

“I love you,” she breathed. “I can't wait until we get married.”

“I can't wait either,” he said. The last part of her mind which remained capable of rational thought told her he didn't mean the same thing as she did, but the thought floated away when he skimmed her white blouse upward, leaning over to press his full, sensuous lips against the flat plane of her belly. She laced her fingers into his coarse black hair. He nudged the shirt up with his chin and kissed her rib cage, kiss after burning kiss, nipping her skin. Annie whimpered.

“Josiah,” she managed to force out while his mouth was otherwise occupied. “When do you want to get married?”

“I don't know,” he muttered. He grasped her blouse in his teeth and lifted it higher, baring her breasts in the sunshine. She rarely bothered with a bra, small as she was, and Josiah took shameless advantage of that fact, lowering his mouth to one erect brown nipple and sucking it to a throbbing peak.

Annie moaned, her reticence floating away. What if he was lifting her skirt? She no longer cared to resist. She only wanted to be as close to Josiah as possible. He switched from one nipple to the other, and Annie moaned.

“Let me, sweet Annie,” he murmured against her breast, “say yes.”

“Oh, Josiah,” she moaned. He reached under her skirt and cupped the apex of her thighs, where her hot, delicate flesh throbbed and ached in anticipation. He slipped her panties aside, parted her virgin lips and delved through, touching her wetness. Just as she had suspected, he possessed a natural affinity for sex, and she opened her thighs, eager to experience more. One finger slid deep into her as the heel of his hand brushed against her clitoris, stimulating the sensitive nub.

Annie wailed in pleasure.

“Say yes, Annie,” he urged.

“Oh, Josiah, yes!”

No sooner had the words left her lips than his fingers were withdrawn. He drew her panties down and off, then his body was over hers again. She opened for him again and his penis touched her intimate flesh. She sighed in pleasure, all thoughts of white weddings forgotten. All she could think, feel, and want was Josiah. She felt his muscles flex in preparation for the plunge into her…

And then his weight disappeared from her body. Annie opened her eyes. When had she closed them? A shadow stood between her and the late spring sunshine. It took several seconds for her to focus, and then…

“Grandfather?”

The wiry man tossed Josiah away as though he weighed little more than a kitten. The boy stumbled and fell to the ground.

“Hannah, cover yourself.” He averted his eyes from her bare body.

Face burning, Annie shoved her skirt down over her bare legs and twitched her blouse back into place.

“Josiah, go to your room and wait for me. If you're not there when I arrive, you'll never be welcome in this community again. Do I make myself clear?” Smith's voice was calm, but his eyes flashed like chips of onyx.

“Yes, sir,” Josiah replied, struggling to his feet and racing up the hill to the compound.

“Well, Hannah?”

“Annie, please, grandfather.”

“Never mind about that. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?”

“That I love Josiah, and I want to marry him.” Annie rose gracefully to her feet and met her grandfather's eyes with her own unflinching gaze.

“But you are not married to him. No one has asked the elders. And you're underage. I don't see an almost married couple. I see a young, naïve fool being seduced by a bad…”

“Stop it!” Annie screamed. “I love Josiah. He's not bad.”

“There's something wrong with him, Annie.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “There is not.”

“No?” He raised his eyebrows. “Then how did you give up on your chastity so easily? I know you, Hannah. You don't want this; a clumsy lay in the meadow. Is that what all your talk of waiting, all your leadership of your peers has amounted to? I'm disappointed in you.”

Considering her grandfather's questions about her behavior, Annie flushed. Yes, she'd been vocal in the youth meetings. And now, here she was, caught rolling around in the grass like a hypocrite. She shook some flowers from her hair.

“I've behaved badly,” she said, casting her eyes at the ground. Then she met her grandfather's gaze boldly. “But it was my decision. Don't blame Josiah. After all, he's one quarter angel. There must be more goodness there than bad.”

“I don't know,” her grandfather replied, his dark eyes focused on the horizon. “Of all Nephilim, I would never have suspected Lucien of indulging in improper behavior. He's just been promoted to general. And yet he was the one who broke his vows, who brought his infant to us to raise. There is weakness in his line. It shows in his son.”

“No!” Annie shook her head, rejecting his words. “Lucien is our hero. If anyone can get us through the battle, it's him. And there's nothing wrong with Josiah. He's just a young man. And he loves me.”

“He's said so?” The old man raised one bushy white eyebrow.

“Not yet,” Annie mumbled.

“Annie.”

“What?”

“He's not for you.”

“Why am I here then?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?”

There. Now she had his attention. “Since I was a child, you've prevented me from learning to fight. I assumed it was because I was supposed to be with Josiah, our future champion. You never intended that, did you?”

“No.” His blunt admission felt like a stiletto to the gut.

“Then why am I here? What need does the order have of me?”

His eyes were distant when he spoke. “I don't exactly know. For one thing, this is the best way I have to keep you safe from what's coming. But… there's something. Argh, why can't I grasp it?” He rubbed his forehead in frustration, frowning deeply before returning his gaze to Annie. “I don't have an answer, except that I just know if you leave, all is lost. Please, Annie. Please don't make Josiah more than all of us.”

Nothing further needed to be said. He gave her a long, disappointed look and walked away. Anne sank down in the grass and wept.

***

Mr. Smith wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He'd lost so much over the long decades of his life. His wife, Mary, with her beautiful golden hair. Their daughter Pearl and her husband Jacob. His grandson Jake. Annie was all he had left. And he hadn't lied to her. The partial vision he received so often when he looked at her made it clear that she was the key to so many things he didn't fully understand. But one thing was certain. The war was coming. There would be no avoiding it. What was unclear was whether any of them would survive.

Mr. Smith squeezed against the wall as a herd of teenage boys galloped past him, their sneakers thundering on the tile like hooves. As they passed, he heard one call to the other, “Race you for the assault rifle.”

“You're on, dude,” a second boy agreed. With a roar of adolescent exuberance, the pair shoved their way to the head of the pack and burst through the rough-hewn door into the courtyard.

Shaking his head, Smith reached the end of the corridor and turned left, eventually arriving at the apartment Josiah shared with three other young men. He found the green-eyed youth flopped on his bunk, his chin in his hand, looking out the window.

Mr. Smith cleared his throat and Josiah jumped to his feet. Every instinct the older man possessed urged him to put this overzealous puppy in his place. His hands itched and his teeth clenched. “Well, Josiah,” he said, his voice all but a snarl, “explain yourself.”

“I don't think I can, sir. I didn't… plan to do that.” The green eyes were fixed on one white tile on the floor between them.

“Look me in the eyes, son, when you talk to me,” Mr. Smith insisted, “or have you learned nothing in all the years you've lived with us?”

Josiah looked up. Mr. Smith suppressed a shudder. What was it about those eyes that always made him uncomfortable?

The two men regarded each other in silence, each wondering what he should say. At last, Mr. Smith spoke.

“It was a mistake to take you in, Josiah. You should never have existed.”

The young man ground his teeth. “I've always known you felt that way, sir. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't thrown me out.”

“You're not of age. But I swear by heaven, Josiah Angelson, if you ever go near my granddaughter again, I will. It's over between you. Is that clear?”

Josiah's eyes widened. “Sir, no, please! I swear, I'll never do anything like that again. I love her. Don't separate us. Please!”

“My decision is made,” Mr. Smith's rage expressed itself in icy control. “Her safety is key to our survival. Yours isn't. You will leave her alone from this day forward. If I hear you've so much as said hello to her, you're done here.”

Josiah closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” he said softly, but Mr. Smith saw the flash of rebellious stubbornness in those unsettling green orbs. This wasn't over, and they both knew it.

***

Josiah peeked out into the hallway. It was empty. Thank God. Mr. Smith was gone. He didn't want to see the old bastard ever again. He tiptoed down to the right. Something tickled his cheek and he swiped his sleeve over impatiently. Damn it, he wasn't going to cry. Another tear followed the first one instantly. Then another. Josiah drew in shaky, unsettled breaths as he made his way to the Naphil dormitory. He needed his father. He threw open the door, desperate to speak with Lucien.