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Heights weren t exactly her thing, but she had no choice current story of her life. She didn t
want to perform any spells within the confines of the house in case Naberius could sense the
energy she drew upon.
The power from the Nephilim was still going strong. She might have succeeded with her spell
without the dirt, but it was better to do it the way she had always done it.
The night sky was clear and the air held a chill. The Santa Ana winds had kicked in.
According to the news it had brought gusts of wind up to twenty-five miles per hour. Late
summer in Los Angeles. You had to love it.
She dug her fingers into the shingles, eyeing the ground below. With her new powers she
could probably jump to the ground without hurting herself. She felt invincible as the powers
surged through her muscles. Nephilim had incredible agility, proven from her earlier attack.
Would she also have that ability? The other option being to crawl down the side of the
house not something she wanted to experience.
A black iron gate surrounded the perimeter of the backyard, and beyond it she could see the
other houses on the block. It would be just her luck to get spotted by a neighbor.
Hanging her feet over the side of the roof, she pushed off with her hands, swinging her feet
away from the house.
She landed lightly, falling into a crouch, just as she had instinctively known she would. The
drop hadn t so much as stung her heels.
Without hesitation she dug her fingers into the lawn and began her location spell.
 Dirt of the Earth, connection between, let the whereabouts of Asmodeus be seen.
She closed her eyes as a vision of a woman, crying and holding a young child, flashed through
her mind. The young girl had a mop of blonde curls and bright pink cheeks. The woman sat
on a blue and yellow striped couch. Asmodeus and Raum sat opposite her on a matching love
seat.
For all intents and purposes, it looked like a domesticated scene. Raum even held a small
teacup in his hands. Asmodeus merely sat on the couch, leaning toward the woman in a non-
threatening manner.
Asmodeus spoke.  Mary, I know this is hard. I lost my sons from this condition, so I know
what you are experiencing. At the same time, having been through this before, I cannot stress
enough that we had no choice. Greg was no longer the son you raised.
Mary clutched the child on her lap tighter.  He s gone. He s really gone?
 When was the last time you saw him? Asmodeus asked.
Mary started sobbing.  A few weeks ago. He was normal. He s not a monster!
Asmodeus got up from the love seat and kneeled in front of her.  Don t allow this to ruin your
life. You raised Greg and you gave him a wonderful life. You could never have prevented the
change. Nephilim are known to attack their parents. My oldest son tried to kill his mother. We
are trying to protect you.
Mary quit sobbing long enough to ask,  He attacked his own mother? Why? What happened
to him?
Raum spoke.  We were ordered to kill our own offspring.
Mary shook her head.  Not all turn. Andras told me not all turn. Jordan is his child too. What
will happen to her? What will happen to my baby? She cradled her little girl, rocking her
back and forth as tears ran down her face.
The vision faded away.
Brianna sat in the grass, collecting herself as the vision s remnants filtered away. Never had a
vision come to her with such clarity before. It was as if she d been in the room with them.
Asmodeus had killed his own children? What had that done to him? Had Michael been the
one to command Asmodeus to kill his own flesh and blood? It made sense. That had to be the
reason he had been so hell-bent on her summoning the archangel.
Asmodeus s children had turned into Nephilim and Michael had ordered their death.
God, she couldn t imagine seeing her own child turn into such a monster. How old had they
been?
On top of that, he had been thrust into the Abyss for being the leader of the Second Angelic
Revolt. In all that time in the Abyss what had he been able to think about? What had been his
driving force? His focus?
His children.
His revenge on the man who had forced him to do the unthinkable. Michael.
Yet here he was, helping to keep the Nephilim under control all these years later. It must bring
back all those memories he d carried throughout the years. Memories of killing his own flesh
and blood.
She ran her palms over the blades of grass, contemplating what her next move would be. She [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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