Chapter 9
Briar
I sit quietly, half hidden behind Kane for four more interviews. I have read of Nephilim while I was studying the Underworld, preparing myself for my new life here. But the tomes I read only had theories of such creatures—the historians weren’t even certain they truly existed. But now I’ve seen five Nephilim. They each have pure white hair and blood-red eyes. They’re beautiful like a poisonous snake is beautiful and they fill me with the same fear.
“I’m not fool enough to create another Nephilim without the proper sanctions,” the Nephilim across from Kane drawls. “Do you think I want to risk your justice?”
Kane sends a shadow prowling around the creature and he flinches. Kane’s wicked smile broadens. “No, you’re too frightened for that. And certainly not mad enough. You may go.”
The Nephilim rises, its red eyes flitting towards me and then back to the door. He’s gone quickly and I wonder if he could sense my mortality. Kane sighs, sinking down in his chair. He looks towards the ceiling, his ropy neck stretched taut. I shift in the uncomfortable wooden chair, curiosity building. It seems that’s the last Nephilim for the day as Willem hasn’t made a reappearance. Kane sighs, his body relaxing.
“Why are you interviewing Nephilim?” I ask, breaking the silence. Kane seems more patient today, perhaps even a little kinder—so I risk the question.
His black eyes flick towards me and he runs a hand through his hair. “There have been deaths in the city recently, and I suspect a Nephilim.”
“How does one die in the Underworld?” My brows knit together.
"There are two deaths." Kane sits up, turning to face me. He holds two fingers up. "One is the death of your mortal body. This is a death that everyone but the Gods and Reapers experience. The second death is the death of a soul. It can only be done through soul-leeching, I assume you've heard of this?"
“I read the works of people who theorized about it, but it was never confirmed,” I say.
“Well, it’s as I said before. With a live mortal, it leaves the body a husk as the soul dies. But here, with the dead, all they have are their souls. Without them, they disappear completely. They are truly dead,” Kane sighs, shoulders sagging.
My lips part in surprise at the weight of his words, at the heavy tenor of his voice. He feels responsible for his people in this realm, I realize with surprise. “What happens after the second death? Is there another realm for them?”
“No.” Kane shakes his head. “They are out of my reach by then. Just gone.”
Fear slips through me, goosebumps pocking on my skin. Dying is already difficult to comprehend, to accept without fear. Even knowing that there is a realm where I will live on doesn’t quell the fear I feel whenever I think of my own death. But now, to know it could be worse—I could simply be nothing—frightens me even more. Kane glances up, his brows furrowed. He reaches for me, long fingers brushing over my knee, before drawing his hand back.
“My mother,” I whisper hesitantly. I wring my hands together in my lap as Kane’s eyes drink me in. “Is she in danger?”
I try not to think of my mother’s existence here. It feels unreal to imagine that she might be somewhere in this world, living without me. I don’t like to picture it. Kane seems to sense my trepidation and his hand rests on my knee again. He’s cold, emanating a chill, but it doesn’t bother me. His thumb strokes the inside of my knee.
“Your mother is safe,” he says. His voice is soft and quiet. “Mortals do not live in the Underworld proper; you won’t find her here. Reapers escort mortal souls elsewhere, so no, your mother is not in danger.”
“Good.” My shoulders sag a little and I nod, feeling relieved.
“I can take you there,” Kane says suddenly. I look up at him with surprise, wondering if he’s teasing me. But his black eyes are as sincere as I’ve ever seen them. “I can take you, but you won’t be able to see her.”
“Why would you do that for me?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
Kane rolls his eyes. “I’m trying kindness for once, but if you would rather I continue being cruel to you, I can do that just as easily.”
“No,” I blurt. “Thank you—I would like that very much.”
“Cruelty?” He cocks a brow, lips quirked into a teasing grin.
“To go to where my mother is,” I say ruefully.
Kane rises, offering me his hand and I take it. He helps me to my feet, holding my hand a little too long to be meaningless. My heart pounds faster at his touch and I feel a thread of yearning when he drops my hand. He leads me out of the dungeon room and back into the dark halls. This time, he doesn’t rush through the halls, forcing me to run. He keeps pace with me, and the simple courtesy has my heart swelling in my chest with questions.
“That’s all for today,” he says.
“Are those the only Nephilim?” I ask as we ascend the stairs.
He shakes his head. “No. There are dozens, but those are the only ones who were scheduled for today.”
“Do you think,” I pause, searching for the right words, “Do you think there will be another murder tonight?”
It feels like a slap to my conscience when his eyes dart towards me. "I am almost sure of it."
We fall into companionable silence as he leads me through the gothic halls. My eyes rove the delicate paintings on the walls, portraits of men and women with diadems and claymores. This is a wing of the castle I’ve never been to before and I’m filled with curiosity. I have yet to be outside of it, beyond the water garden, but I imagine it must be massive. I crane my neck to look at the arched ceilings, the white stucco transforms to charcoal gray.
