instead of the Fallen. I have no idea how he made it this long, but he’ll have the right training now and be able to step fully into his destiny.”
“What?” She shot from the chair.
“Lily,” he warned.
“We can’t train him. He’s too old.”
Nathaniel frowned. “He looked about thirty.”
“Yes! Thirty years of absolutely no knowledge of the Nephilim or the Fallen!”
He raised a brow. “You’re younger than him.”
She sputtered. “I’ve had years of training, and I’ve accepted the Contract. We cannot train him with everything that is going on!”
“We’ll find a way.” He stopped, glancing up. “Better yet, you’ll find a way.”
She was about two seconds from grabbing her hair and pulling. “You’re kidding.”
He smiled. “No.”
“You can’t do this to me. I can’t train anyone. You know I don’t have any patience. I’m better as a hunter.”
“Lily, you’re great as a hunter. You’re one of the best. Hell, you are probably the best,” he admitted. “But this is an order I’m giving you.”
Her hands fell uselessly to her sides. He rarely ordered her to do anything. She knew there was no point in arguing.
“Don’t sulk.” He stood and headed around the desk.
She noticed then that his clothes were wrinkled. Guilt gnawed at her insides. Here she was, adding to his enormous pile of things to worry over. “You haven’t slept have you?”
He paused, looking down at himself. “Is it that obvious?”
She nodded. Frankly, she’d seen him worse, but there was a weariness that clung to his skin. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He leaned against the desk, stretching his long legs, appearing to choose his words wisely. “I’m afraid someone is betraying us.”
She gaped. Okay, she knew it was bad. She just hadn’t expected it to be that bad. “What do you mean?”
He pushed away from the desk and went to the large cabinet that took up the entire side of the wall. She followed his movements. Curious, she waited quietly.
“Someone is feeding the Fallen a list of every Nephilim we are aware of. I also think the same person is actively seeking ones we have yet to relocate.” He ran his hand over the wood. “With this knowledge, they will quickly outnumber us by the hundreds. It’s sheer numbers. They take more souls and infect more humans.”
And there were so many souls nowadays. Those who perished unexpectedly were vulnerable to persuasion. Those poor souls clung to any hope of life, even the false hope minions provided them.
They invaded the bodies of the living, truly believing it was a second chance at life. But once their soul mingled with the host, things went downhill fast. The human became a deadhead—the human souls withering away for them both.
“With the Fallen operating behind the scenes, where we can’t reach them, we’re left cleaning up their mess time after time.”
She looked up. “Do you know who it is?”
He faced her. “That’s what’s been keeping me up at night.”
She inclined her head. “Do the Powers That Be know?” That’s what she called the angels and whoever else ran this show.
“They haven’t talked to me in a long time.”
That gave her pause. Nathaniel was the Nephilim’s only connection to the Powers That Be who called the shots from their lofty position. She always imagined them perched on a cloud full of morals and pomp, stringing their golden harps while staring at their beautiful reflections.
Lily didn’t like angels, especially their politics.
They viewed her kind as an abomination that had, unfortunately, become necessary. If they were ever successful in eradicating the Fallen and their legions, the Nephilim would be next on their heavenly hit list.
“Well crap,” she muttered.
Nathaniel chuckled. “Exactly. Don’t mention any of what I’ve shared with you about my suspicions. Only the circle is aware of the issue. I want it to stay that way.”
The circle consisted of the oldest and most skilled Nephilim in each chapter of the Sanctuary. They were in charge of various things such as disciplinary issues, the most secretive of missions, and the occasional social event that required their participation.
In the DC chapter, it was Nathaniel and Luke, Remy, and about nine other Nephilim. Then there was Lily. She was by far the youngest, but the most skilled. She had a habit of reminding them of that.
“Of course,” she agreed.
“Just keep your ear to the ground for me and report anything that seems odd. Now get back to the cop and make sure you brief him on what he is. You will meet resistance, but try to have patience.”
She arched an eyebrow but didn’t respond.
“Use Remy and Luke for all you need. I trust them. You can also reach out to Rafe.” He flashed a weak smile. “Keep Michael out of the school. I don’t want the young ones to freak him out. You know how they can be.”
Lily smiled at that. The school housed young Nephilim anywhere from five to eighteen. The teenagers were by far the worst, and the youngest ones just hadn’t developed a self-censor system yet. She kind of liked them for that.
Nathaniel smiled fondly at the auburn head that didn’t even reach his chest. “Lily?”
“Yes?”
“Be nice. And, God, please don’t kill him.”
“No promises.”
She left the room and made her way back to level five, deciding she’d gotten off light this time. Her ass had been chewed off far worse than that in the past. Pulling from a seemingly endless supply of energy, she bounded up the stairs.
…
Cory Roberts hurried across the manicured lawn, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the senator’s limousine in its designated spot. It was past midnight, and all he wanted was to be home in bed with his wife.
Tomorrow would be jam-packed with meetings, tedious conference calls, a baby or two to be kissed on the cheek, and the senator’s latest scandal to be dealt with.
He juggled the stack of folders in one arm, barely retaining his limp grasp on his coffee. This was why he was losing sleep. Caffeine at midnight and another dose at the crack of dawn was a wretched combination for his heart.
Middle-aged and already balding, with high blood pressure and a sinking suspicion he was developing an ulcer, Cory had had a shitty day. The wire-frame glasses slipped down his nose. This latest affair would surely be the senator’s undoing. There was no way they could cover this up, and the senator’s bitch of a wife was already booking the early-morning talk shows.
The senator couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, and that dick was going to get them all in the unemployment line. Without this job, Cory would lose everything: the money, the illusion of power, the house his wife loved, and even his wife.
He would give his soul for this whole mess to disappear.
The driver stepped forward, opening the door. Cory spared him a tight smile and slid in. Clutching the folders and coffee to his chest, he glanced across the seat, expecting the senator or, at the very least, his whore of a secretary.
The coffee slipped from his fingers.
Cory loved his wife of ten years—had always loved women. He never questioned his sexuality until that moment. It shattered his world.
