Chapter Eight
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NAZAB HAD SLEPT LIKE a rock in the bedroom he’d chosen last night.
Dawn had just arrived and he sensed Monica in the bedroom down the hall.
He’d been too exhausted to search for clothes, so he began opening the closets and checking the dressers.
All of the clothing was far too small for him, so he settled on a tan-colored trenchcoat.
It was larger than the rest of the outfits he’d found, but he had to tie it around his waist. His shoulders and chest were too broad to fit into it.
The knight headed downstairs and stepped outside.
He ran a perimeter check in his bare feet before returning to the house.
Other houses stood in the distance, but they all seemed to be empty.
It was eerily quiet in this semi-rural area.
Traffic should have been driving on the nearby freeway and roads.
Instead, only birds, insects and wild animals could be seen and heard.
“Monica will need food and water when she wakes up,” Nazab reminded himself as he closed and locked the front door.
Unlike their sires, cambions needed to eat and drink.
He was still amazed that the female’s soul was gray instead of black.
The younglings of their enemies had always taken after their sires in the past.
Just thinking about Thamuz was enough to make him scowl.
“Why was he released from the Void so much earlier than the other soldiers?” he murmured as he headed to the kitchen.
Thamuz had impregnated Monica’s mother, but he hadn’t bothered to stick around and take control of his offspring through his parental bond.
Maybe that was why the cambion was good inside.
Then he shook his head in denial. “They’ve always been born evil in the past,” he reminded himself.
It was a mystery he couldn’t solve without more information, so he put it aside for now.
Opening the pantry door, Nazab began sorting through the canned goods and boxes of cookies, crackers and cereal.
He took everything edible out and carried it to the kitchen table.
Dust wafted up and he waved it away. Monica couldn’t eat at the table without her food becoming contaminated.
“I need to clean the table,” he decided, then shifted the food to the kitchen counter. He found cleaning products in a cupboard beneath the sink and went to work.
Monica stirred an hour later and he perused the kitchen, dining room and living room. He’d gotten rid of as much dust as possible, but the carpet in the living and dining rooms was still covered in it. At least the furniture was dust free.
He heard the female rummaging through dressers and closets upstairs, then she eventually descended. She took one look at him and burst into giggles. “I thought my outfit was bad,” she joked.
Nazab’s mouth went dry as he took in her tiny shorts and shirt that clung to her torso. “You look very pretty,” he said, then mentally kicked himself. Her hair had been freshly braided and was tied up in a ponytail.
“I look like a teenager,” she complained, glancing down at the shirt with a unicorn on it. “I never would have fit into these before the Rapture,” she said ruefully, then smirked at him again. “At least I don’t look like I’m about to expose myself to some poor innocent women in a park.”
He looked down at the trenchcoat that was tied around his waist and realized he had an erection again. “This doesn’t usually happen,” he said with a grimace.
“Why not?” she asked, tugging on her shorts in a futile effort to make them longer. “Are you gay?” Monica queried. She didn’t seem to be bothered that her prosthetic leg was on full display. The black sneaker on her prosthesis was at least two sizes larger than her white one.
His mind coughed up two explanations for the word she’d just used. One meant happy, the other was completely different. “I’m not attracted to males,” he said. “I just meant I usually have better control of myself than this.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m probably the first hot earthwoman you’ve met,” she joked.
He rolled his eyes when she snickered at him. She had no idea about his lengthy history with her planet yet. “I gathered all of the supplies I could find, female,” he said, sweeping his hand towards the dining table.
Monica whistled in amazement. “Why is everything so clean?” she asked as she crossed to the table to examine the cans, boxes and other items.
“The table was covered in filth,” Nazab said with a shrug. “I had time to kill, so I did some cleaning.”
She turned to look him dead in the eye. “Marry me,” she said solemnly.
“What?” he asked in shock even as his heart leaped, then began to hammer hard. The thought of becoming tied to this female was enticing rather than alarming.
“I always told my friends that if I found a man who does his share of the cooking and cleaning that I’d marry him,” she said with a grin.
“I’ll consider your proposal, Monica Yamil,” he said gravely.
“Yeah, you do that,” she said, still grinning as she sorted through the food. Settling on canned fruit, she crossed to the drawers and found a can opener.
“Let me do that,” Nazab said, loping over to take the items from her small hands.
She watched in amusement as he opened the can for her. “I could have done that myself, but I appreciate your help,” she said, then she sat down at the table and began to eat.
Nazab had to turn away when she put the forkful of peaches into her mouth. Everything she did was a turn on for him. He was being pathetic, but he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to her. “You have enough food for a couple of weeks, if you eat frugally,” he figured.
“Frugal has become my middle name,” she said dourly. “God, I miss junk food,” she said in a wistful tone. “I’ve been craving a burger and fries for the past ten months.”
“I can hunt animals for their meat,” Nazab said. “I just need to locate wild game.”
Monica screwed her nose up adorably. “I’m not sure I’d be able to eat something that’s been living in the woods,” she admitted. “They could be full of worms or diseases.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to scrounge up food from other houses that haven’t been ransacked instead,” he figured. “What’s the Rapture?” he asked, taking a seat at the far end of the table. He needed to keep his distance from her so he could think clearly.
Monica explained about the event that had resulted in half of the population vanishing while she was eating.
He’d found bottles of water and she sipped from one every now and then.
“Everything went to hell pretty quickly after the disappearances,” she finished up.
“Then the red meteors arrived and a guy we nicknamed the Mad Prophet began talking on the ham radio one of my neighbors had. I sensed some weird beings three months after my friends and everyone I knew either vanished or died. My instincts told me to run, so I headed to the Bronx.”
Nazab had listened to her story in grave silence. “Who were those people who chased you to the cul-de-sac?” he asked.
Monica scowled and swallowed her bite of food.
“I ran into Wallace and his friends after I left Manhattan,” she explained.
“We stuck together so we’d have safety in numbers.
I knew they weren’t angels, but I didn’t know they were going to turn bad like that.
” She eyed him, then pointed at him with her fork.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said. “Tell me about the good and evil aliens. I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting story. ”
“No doubt,” he agreed wryly. “Firstly, you’re far from the first earthwoman I’ve met, but you are indeed hot,” he told her. She blushed and her pale face went bright red. Chuckling, Nazab proceeded to fill her in about the Knights of Order and the Soldiers of Chaos.