Nephilim’s Beloved: A Divine Giants Romance (Sons of Earth and Heaven Book 2) Read online

  “If you’re going to tell me I have to kill those people, you’re insane.”

  “I’m not going to tell you which humans to kill. I am going to tell you you have to bring death to at least that number, or at least to one person who’s worth as much.”

  Something about that phrase stuck in Dev’s brain, and he didn’t like it. “One who is worth as much,” he repeated.

  Malek watched and waited impatiently.

  “Some miserable human will shoot someone, somewhere in the world today. You can set your watch by it. That should be balanced enough for you miserable lot.”

  “You know that’s not how it works. You saved them by magical means; the balance has to be restored by magical means.”

  Finally, Dev dropped to the mat and spoke, sweat dripping from his chin. “Balance is for losers who sit in heaven on an empty piece of property—my birthright—just to be petty.”

  Malek sighed. “Take it up with your fathers. They knew the score.”

  It was perhaps not wise to draw one’s sword at an archangel’s messenger, even one insulting him. But slagging off the Grigori remained a grave offense among the giants those so-called fallen ones had left behind.

  Malek chuckled softly at the sight of Dev’s glowing weapon. “Azazel didn’t care about you or your mother. If he had, or if any of the Grigori cared for anything other than themselves, your kind never would have been born. So, I’ll take pity on you for your sad existence and cut to the chase. Because you saved her, you are now responsible for her.”

  Dev held back his true feelings and scoffed. “Which means what?”

  “Congratulations, half-blood. You’re now her guardian angel. In payment for completing this assignment, Raphael is willing to restore your birthright.”

  Dev had been prepared to mock, to refuse, even to engage in a bit of combat in his restless state. He was not ready for the most coveted thing: access to the Nephilim’s ancestral home.

  The offer so astounded him, Dev had the urge to ask a hundred follow-up questions. He knew of no other Nephilim giant who had been granted this gift—the gift of what was already theirs.

  Keeping his feelings in check, he only asked one. “Death?”

  Malek nodded. “You’ll be allowed to perish—the same as humans inevitably do—and your soul will go directly home. No waiting rooms, no red tape. You go straight home.”

  Imagine being allowed to cross over into the afterlife, he thought to himself. Dev’s kind, as half heavenly creatures, were immune to natural causes of death. No disease, no accidents, no human weapons could destroy their bodies. They only perished in battle, and by magical means. Sadly, these violent deaths were not granted a hero’s welcome in the afterlife, as done with humans. His kind sat in Purgatory, waiting to be tested. That testing never took place for any of the few giant bastards who’d managed to get themselves killed.

  “And the others?” Dev asked, thinking of how Samuel kept thorough records of all their brothers and sisters who had died: how they died, time and date, and where the bodies lay. All over the world, no one of their kind fell without Samuel writing it down.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Malek said.

  Dev sheathed his sword and turned away to fetch a towel.

  If he played his cards right, maybe he could bring all of his siblings with him. If anyone could skirt the rules, find loopholes, it was him.

  The truth that Dev could never tell his brothers, and least of all a messenger angel, was that he was glad to take the assignment. For the past hundred and twenty years, since he’d failed that first young girl, he’d tortured himself. Saving that girl and the rest of that lot last night had not assuaged his guilt over his previous failure.

  “Question,” Dev said, passing over the whiskey in favor of a stroll to the abbey’s fountain for a restorative drink. Malek followed behind as Dev exited his chamber and climbed the stone steps that led to the most central room of the place. “Why is Raphael so interested in her? Surely others have prevented magical deaths without you halo types caring about an upset in the balance.”

  Malek replied, “You’ll have to take that up with Raphael himself. Pleasure as always.”

  By the time Dev turned to ask another question, Malek was gone.

  Typical. Always leaving with more questions than answers.

  As he bathed himself in the fountain, Dev knew the truth was that he’d been waiting for something, anything to change. His self-loathing weighed him down, and he was no longer interested in the traditions, rituals, and protocol of living his life as a half-angel. He’d mainly felt human in spirit for the last 120 years, and he wished for the sweet relief of death. Dev had come close many times while trying to pick fights with the Holier Than Thous.

  He didn’t want to get too excited, but he felt relieved at having an assignment, or a distraction.

  Another someone to be concerned about aside from myself.

  Chapter Four

  Present Day

  Dev

  He followed her as he always did when Cora was out on the town with her friends.

  Hiding behind magical cloaking, sticking to the shadows, the darkness, Dev watched her from afar.

  At that bar, where she went to celebrate her 25th birthday, Dev stayed hidden as he compelled the shift to take place.

  Dev’s heart thudded in anticipation. Would she remember?

  He waited; nothing happened.

  Sometimes the shift took a minute. Ever since the events of last summer, when his giant brother Samuel and he had done battle with a vessel of Lucifer, the shifting had become more difficult.

  He put all thoughts of himself aside and concentrated on Cora. And waited. He watched her blow out the candles on her birthday cake, and sipped a shot of tequila, and laughed with her friends. Oh, how he wished to be in her orbit. As a human. As equals. How he wished to be seen by her; how he wished for her to choose him of her own free will.

  And so, he waited a few more minutes. Had he said the words correctly? The bar’s noise was enough to drown out his words, so he spoke the words out loud. For a second, he thought it had worked. But there was only a glimmer. Dev looked down at his arms, and the human in him flashed for a second, then disappeared. The only change was a glitch, like static on an old television screen.

  What the hell was going on? Was this some sort of trickery of Malek? Was he being punished for falling in love with a human, as his ancestors were punished?

  Were the angels displeased that Dev had taken Cora to the abbey for last summer? Did heaven judge him harshly for that?

  For ten thousand years, Dev had avoided catching any feelings for anyone.

  He’d never understood what the Grigori saw in humans.

  All that changed in a blip of twenty years.

  On Cora Dawson’s twenty-fifth birthday, Dev needed to make the invisible visible. He’d even bathed, freshened up his tattoos, and polished his bald head for the moment when he would shift.

  For twenty years, he did his job.

  For twenty years, nothing ever happened. Not to Cora. But plenty happened to Dev.

  He’d extinguished the candles that time she’d fallen asleep while praying in front of her altar. After she’d moved out of her Aunt Olivia’s house at 17 because her witchy behavior creeped everyone out, Dev stayed even closer. When she was a teenager, he’d noticed her anti-acne spell she’d found on the internet was about to blow up her whole house, and Dev had brazenly picked up the entire bowl and tossed it into the river. She’d watched the whole incident with shocked amazement, thinking she’d levitated the contents by accident. Another time, he sideswiped a bad boyfriend, making him fall down a well. He was okay but believed Cora had put a hex on him and avoided her after that. Numerous times, he’d stopped traffic for her when she jaywalked, lost in thoughts and not paying attention to her surroundings.

  But the most profound thing that happened to Dev, and hadn’t happened to her, was that he’d fallen madly, deeply in love.
And he’d convinced himself that she was the same girl he’d failed to save 120 years ago. She became his entire world.

  Whenever Dev had to leave Cora’s side, his body ached, and not just the human heart of him.

  A year ago, he’d brought Cora to the secret abbey on Bell Mountain when a demon in possession of a human had gotten too close to her. He’d brought her there under his wing of protection; to his brothers, she was simply seen as a companion for the summer Bacchanal. Humans were not allowed into the secret home of the giants, except during their sacred celebrations.

  Cora had been there, but she would have no memory of those three days. That was the way it had to be, for her protection, and for the security of the giants’ secret home.

  But now, Dev needed more. He needed her to see him; he needed to talk to her. He needed to shift into his human form. To reveal his proper form — beyond ten feet tall, wings and all — was too much for humans to take. And he didn’t want to use the usual psychic manipulations that Nephilim employed to keep humans docile. He couldn’t do that to her again. He wouldn’t.

  He felt too close to her; her humanity was getting to him.

  He’d picked his moment.

  That night, she sat at the local bar and grill. That was his moment.

  But the shift wasn’t working.

  “Fucking Malek,” he muttered. “Cockblocker of the Angels, if ever there was one.”

  Speaking Malek’s name out loud was never a good idea. Malek himself popped into view.

  “Having trouble? It wasn’t me.”

  Dev snarled. “It’s a good thing none of the humans can see us because I’m about to kick your ass bloody.”

  Malek chuckled. “Angels don’t bleed.”

  “They also don’t appreciate hyperbole. Tell me, what’s going on? What did Raphael do?”

  Malek lifted one shoulder. “It’s not me, and it’s not Raphael diminishing your ability to shift. But Raphael did ask me to remind you what happened the last time a giant fell in love with a human. A year ago. Broken seal. Signs of the apocalypse? Any of that ring a bell?”

  Dev’s jaw ticked as he gritted his teeth. “If it’s not the angels, then what’s causing it?”

  Malek sighed and examined the room. “Oh, I don’t know. But maybe you should be less concerned about shifting—or getting a magic boner on at your silly summer Bacchanal—and more concerned with fighting the demons that now roam the earth thanks to Samuel and Ada.”

  Dev shook his head. It wasn’t like that. This douchecanoe was not going to ruin his shot at a life—even a painfully short one—with Cora. “You’re going to pin all of our problems on Sam and Ada?”

  Malek rolled his eyes. “I’d love to spar with you over our shared history, but I’m bored now. But before I go: you haven’t seen or heard from the dynamic duo since they flew off into the sunset, have you?”

  Dev shook his head. Even if he knew where Sam and Ada were, no way in hell or heaven would he reveal it to this pathetic excuse for an angel.

  “Suit yourself,” Malek said. “But Raphael will find them. You’d better hope he does find them before the other side does.”

  With another pop, Malek was gone.

  Dev turned his attention back to Cora. Her cheeks were flushed from the small amount of alcohol she’d consumed, and her eyes sparkled in the dim light in the room.

  What he wouldn’t give to be there, his hand on her lower back, nuzzling her neck, holding her hand as she walked home from the bar. Just for her to be aware of him, to know him, to be seen, would be worth more than any promise of the afterlife.

  Cora would be safe for life under Dev’s watchful eye, whether or not he ever showed himself to her.

  But he would never have the pleasure of holding her, feeling her whisper in his ear at night. He’d never know the anticipating of feeling her slide one soft thigh over him in bed, urging him to come closer. Cora would never draw him into her sex. He would never sleep nestled between her breasts or feel her sweat-matted hair against his chest.

  Had he known last year’s encounter between her and his human shape would be his last, Dev would have done so many things differently…

  But there was no point in dwelling on what he should have done. There was nothing in his power he could do at the moment, and it seemed the ability to shift had left him entirely.

  Were the giants meant to be punished forever? For what? For existing?

  The constant scrutiny and judgment were why Dev would never fight on the side of the angels. He’d taken this assignment because of Cora, and because of what the angels had offered him, not because he believed in their cause.

  Dev had done his duty perfectly as her guardian angel, but he paid the price elsewhere.

  His brothers, hidden in the ruins atop Bell Mountain that overlooked the town, wondered why he spent so little time at the abbey, their home base. It was where they lived, ate, slept, and met all of their human needs. Zave, the oldest of the group, had questioned him at every turn about his distant behavior, about him not pulling his weight. “It’s only four times per year. If you’re not into the Bacchanals, if you’re not pulling your weight, then I want to know what you’re doing with your time.”

  The stress of hiding the truth—that he, the slacker of the group, had been promised death and heaven—wore on Dev, and he eventually spent less and less time with his brothers.

  At one point in time, Dev had toyed with the idea of telling Samuel about his guardianship assignment. He’d started to tell him, but after the way Samuel acted surprised, Dev had chickened out.

  After Samuel had disappeared, Dev didn’t even try to pretend as if he was going through the motions. Of all seven brothers, Zave was the most serious about preserving their traditions that kept the giants in sync with their human selves and their celestial roots. Celebrating the change of seasons at their quarterly Bacchanals meant connecting to their human sensibilities and their celestial with music, food, pleasures of the flesh, and sleep. The Nephilim only engaged in food, sex, and sleep four times a year, and there was always much planning around it.

  A critical part of that planning was scouting for willing human participants. But to do that, the Nephilim had to shift into their human forms.

  Dev wished his brothers luck because without the ability to shift, they’d not be able to make any sort of human connection leading up to their precious Bacchanals.

  And yet, his Nephilim brothers carried on with their preparations.

  Dev, on the other hand, was busy looking after his charge.

  Later that night, after seeing her home safely, Dev stood in Cora’s living room, watching her get ready for bed. Her nighttime rituals soothed him.

  Cora passed him as he stood by her front door, having already checked the windows, locked all the doors, and examined every tiny crack in her house with his eagle eyes.

  When she disappeared into the bathroom to start her bath, he took the opportunity to peek outside, checking for demons. Since the first seal was broken a year ago, he was on high alert, waiting for a fight. Demonic activity had been oddly quieter than expected, which didn’t calm Dev’s nerves any.

  When Cora appeared out of her bathroom completely naked, carrying a bathrobe over her arm, Dev nearly snapped his neck trying to look away in time.

  He stared at the floor and closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. Human nakedness was not seen as taboo for heavenly creatures, but falling in love changed everything. He wanted to respect her privacy.

  And yet, Dev’s hands itched to touch those graceful shoulder blades as she breezed by him, her coconut scent dragging his desire across the floor with her. Cora’s perfect round navel, the slight pooch of her belly, the curve of her hips. He knew every inch of her without letting himself look. He could piece it all together in his mind. She hid her curves so well in her teacher outfits. Even in the underthings she wore, she looked sweet and plain. Naked, all her curves were astonishing, like an ancient fertility goddess.
Dev had known some actual fertility goddesses in his time, and they had nothing on Cora.

  Cora was too sweet, too kind, too human for him. What could he do, take her to the Summer Bacchanal and subject her to mind games and an orgy? He’d put up a good front but never went through with the more intimate portions of the sacred celebrations. He’d kept her so close. Held her, kissed her, even. Under his thrall, Cora had been willing to give herself over. But Dev had not allowed it; if she did not remember him after returning home, the torture for him would be that much worse.

  A year later, and everything was changing.

  Brotherhood be damned. Celestial accord be damned. This is my job now. If I can’t have her, then I’ll stay vigilant until someone deserving comes along.

  Keeping his face down, Dev followed her into the bathroom. A small splash urged him to take a slight peek—just the ankle: a flash of pink skin, the arch in her foot. There’s nothing sexy about an arch; it’s just a foot.

  But it was her arch. Her foot. Her bare leg swirling the water with her pointed big toe, with its pale coral paint. The scent of the bubbles, lavender, and sandalwood always calmed Cora’s rushing mind but did nothing to calm Dev’s. Those scents would forever be associated with Cora and therefore distract Dev when he could not allow himself to be distracted.

  His eyes drifted slowly. As his eyes traveled up her body, she sank down just a second before he could take a look at his favorite curve of all. The split of her bottom slipped under the water, and then the bubbles covered her almost up to her neck.

  Dev silently cursed. Or he thought he had. She was not supposed to see or hear him, but Cora sat up suddenly and looked around the room.