CHAPTER 19
Nina
“Fine.” Almost lazily, Sampson reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze on me is warm before he turns it on the other giant. “I insist.” But the tension winds in him again, and I feel every ounce of it.
“Makes this easier, I suppose. You’ve been reading up on us, you said, so in general, you know what we are.”
“Evil cannibals. Descended from fallen angels.”
Xy nods, not seeming the least bit worried about Sampson’s characterization.
“Blood and flesh have their power. We aren’t the same mighty men of renown that we used to be—too much interbreeding with humans has caused our genetic gifts to wear thin—but the consumption of blood and flesh heals a lot of ills.
And yes, we are the offspring of the Watchers. ”
“See? And you thought I was an angel. Turns out, you are.” I nudge Sampson in the hopes of relaxing him again, but this time, it doesn’t work.
Xy rolls his eyes. “Lovers. It’ll pass.”
“No.” Sampson objects before I can. “It won’t. Never mind about us. Tell me what you want me to know so you can be on your way.”
Clearly, Sampson no longer feels an obligation to be polite.
Xy doesn’t look insulted. “Our angelic forebears pretended to love, too. Maybe they even deceived themselves, I don’t know.
Point was, they had a plan. It began with lust, as most things do, but making wives of the human females was also a power move against a dictatorial divine creator.
Angels are slaves, you see. They wanted more for themselves, as is only natural. Every living thing seeks freedom.”
And yes, I flinch and search the ceiling. I’m not overly religious, but when lightning fails to strike the other giant dead, I have to admit to being surprised.
Sampson just squeezes me tighter into his side.
“When the Watchers saw the daughters of men, man, of course, being the legal inheritor of the earth through Adam, they understood that a claim could be made to the planet by breeding offspring on the women. That’s why they married the silly females rather than simply fucking them.
Legal claim, all tied up by meaningless vows.
Their children were part human, and thus, by law, allowed to rule, but they were also part angelic and, as such, subject to their fathers’ dictates.
It was indirect rule, but still power, and absolute.
The Deity is punctilious with His laws. He never breaks them.
So, a little technological and magickal assistance here, a little threat and terror there, and the planet became the property of the Watchers in all but name.
“Humans knew the Watchers as gods. When The Deity finally got around to cleaning up, our angelic forebears were imprisoned. That left demi-gods, Nephilim, to rule as they would. Mostly, that involved power plays and iron fists, so that no one could take away what was rightfully theirs.”
“Say all thieving invaders,” I mutter.
Xy shrugs. “The smart ones, sure. Some of you humans are enough like us that we can stand the sight of you, though we like you better when you’re roasted over an open flame.”
Gross.
Clearly, Xy despises humans. What that says about his psychology, I don’t know, since he’s at least part human— probably more human than angel. Honestly, it’s easy to see why Sampson doesn’t like him.
“Anyway, by the time The Deity sent his army to imprison the Watchers, their children had already moved over the earth in great numbers. The Watchers were prolific breeders, as were the first generations of Nephilim, their children. Well, it’s a thing, isn’t it?
A king can better control his kingdom with his children there to enforce his dictates.
When The Deity finally realized how fully the Nephilim controlled the world, how far we had spread, He sent The Flood to rid the earth of our Kind. ”
“But you’re here.” I’m the one to interrupt again, since Sampson sits still as a statue hewn of stone.
“And we’re not sure why, to be honest. The Deity doesn’t make mistakes, but…
” He shrugs. “Some of us lived, is the point. They hid deep underground and survived the waters, though unfortunately, the Watchers’ base operations on Atlantis and Mu were obliterated.
After it was safe to come out again, the Neph found new homes and attempted to rebuild our society.
Many settled in what became North America, only to be nearly wiped out again, this time by the native tribes who objected to becoming dinner. ”
“Go figure,” I mumble under my breath.
Xy shrugs. “There weren’t enough of us left at that point to breed our way into a sufficient fighting force.
Plus, the generations of interbreeding with humans had taken their toll on our strength.
Each subsequent generation becomes weaker than the one before, you see.
Hell, we’re not even immortal anymore, though our lifespans still put yours to shame. ”
So far, what he’s saying isn’t significantly different from the myths and surmises recorded in my books. Which is fascinating. And horrifying.
But while I’m vacillating between fascination and horror, Sampson’s lips have become a line of pure resistance, and have been ever since Xy began his explanation.
I squeeze his thigh again. He pats my hand.
“You’re not evil,” I mouth when he finally looks at me.
His laugh grates the air, filled with pain. “Have you looked across the coffee table? That’s what I am.”
“DNA doesn’t mean you’re like him. You’re not evil,” I insist.
“Probably, it means he’s evil.” Xy shrugs. “Just sayin’. We are what we are. Best to get a handle on it. But I’ll be around to help you, son…er, boy.”
Sampson slowly returns his attention to Xy. “Do you live in town?”
“Hell, no. I live down the mountain, in a cave I’ve decked out.
Great stereo system. I’ve got a vinyl collection you wouldn’t believe, and my own waterfall for when human civilization collapses, fed from a deep spring.
I could help you find living quarters of your own.
Not too close to mine, of course, but in the general area. ”
I think this is Xy’s version of being helpful, but the very idea of our civilization collapsing isn’t calming.
Sampson tightens further. If he hasn’t ground his double row of teeth to dust by the end of this conversation, I’ll count us lucky.
Xy continues, “Our Kind, we despise company. We’re best on our own, though we come together when we have to.
The day I saw you up the tree with an ax, I was out bringing down a stag that was fleeing the fire.
Saw you topple half the tree, and yourself along with it.
Idiotic move. We heal fast, but there’s no sense suffering broken bones. ”
“We heal fast?” Sampson asks, for the first time looking interested. He turns to me. “I get hurt a lot, and the guys always joke about it.”
“It’s a gift, courtesy of our angelic forefathers, those that are currently trapped beneath the Euphrates until the End of Days, curse The Enemy.”
“The Enemy?” Sampson asks.
“I think he means God,” I say quickly, too superstitious to let Xy explain, since every word that falls from his lips is a profanity.
“You think God, whom you call ‘The Deity,’ is your enemy because a bunch of angels disobeyed Him and were punished for it? That sounds an awful lot like victim-blaming.”
Instead of responding, Xy reaches across for Sampson’s untouched beer. After draining it, he flips the tiny bottle from palm to palm. “Some things won’t ever be for your ears, zona, no matter how Sampson might wish otherwise. Not from me, anyway.”
“What does that mean?” Sampson asks. “Zona?”
“It’s an ancient word that was taken up into Hebrew. In their tongue, it translates to whore. Whoa—keep your shirt on.” He holds up his hand as Sampson surges to his feet. “Sit down, son. In our terminology, it’s just the word for the human breeder of a Nephilim.”
“Ewww.” I wrinkle my nose. My hand is stretched up, holding Sam’s pants in the hopes of keeping him from lunging at the older giant, though more and more, I’m reconsidering my pacifist stance. “You’re disgusting,” I tell the other… man/giant/whatever.
“We’re demigods, zona. Your characterizations mean nothing to us. And once your Nephilim lover understands his place in our hierarchy, if he decides to keep you, he’ll make you aware of it so that you don’t forget your place again.”
“Don’t count on it.” But Sampson plops back down on the couch, causing a minor earthquake.
Still, he’s coiled like a spring. “Get on with whatever you need to say, Xy. My patience isn’t eternal.
Giants roamed the earth, yada, yada, yada, one of them fucked my birth mother, and voila, here I am.
Is that it? Because honestly, no matter what I might look like, I’m opting to take after her.
I don’t want anything to do with your society.
I’m human down to my bones, where it matters. ”
“Which brings me to why I’m here, though I needed you to understand the basics first.” If possible, he suddenly looks even shiftier.
“Doesn’t matter who you take after, you’re far less human than any of us, a point that really chafes my nuts.
I had a human mother. You… well. Not completely.
And your father, well...” Xy lets loose a piercing whistle.
Sampson’s teeth grind, the sound one of complete vexation. But other than the movement of his jaw, the rest of him is rock.
Because he’s gut-punched. He’s tightening up to resist the force of the blow. I don’t think he knows what it’s going to be anymore than I do, but I sense it like an ax above our heads.
We don’t have to wait long.
“Your father, boy, is a Watcher.” Xy pauses, waiting for us to exclaim, I guess.
Neither of us do.