With a manic grin, the Nephilim twists in mid-air, plummeting feetfirst towards me. His heels strike me squarely in the chest, and I reel backward against the stage. My breath escapes me, and I hear the audible crack of my ribs breaking over my heart. Eyes wide, I feel a seed of fear blossom into something more. I can’t breathe, and every move sends pain lancing through my body. My claws dig into the wood of the stage as I try to catch my breath. The Nephilim laughs, tossing his head back. I glance towards the ceiling and around the theatre, hoping to catch a glimpse of Willem in the shadows. But the theatre is empty except for the Nephilim and me.
“You were too cocky,” the Nephilim says, approaching.
I rise to my full height, ignoring the tightness in my chest. The bones will heal. “I’ve learned my lesson,” I say through gritted teeth.
He eyes me. “I doubt it will make any difference.”
Snarling, I lunge at him, claws outstretched. He darts to the side, twisting his body, but I anticipated that. Hot blood gushes over my fingers as I catch his back and a corner of his feathery wings. The Nephilim gasps, arching away from my claws. He whirls away, blood staining his tunic and dripping down his side. I grin wickedly. The heat of his blood is invigorating to me. I rush him while he’s distracted, magic burning everything in front of me. The Nephilim gapes at me as I close in on him. But at the last instant, he smiles, spreading his wings wide. Blood drips onto the theatre floor.
When we collide, the Nephilim laughs maniacally. I slash at him, aiming for his exposed, thin throat. Suddenly, his pale hand snatches mine mid-strike. My eyes widen with surprise and fear. My movements should have been too quick for him. But the Nephilim caught me with ease. He squeezes, and I feel the bones in my wrist grind together. A mangled cry of pain escapes me as he breaks my wrist effortlessly. I swipe at him with my free hand, intent on forcing him to release me, but he pushes it aside as a parent would a stubborn child. I pull against him, pain burning through my arm with each tug. The Nephilim holds fast, a sadistic smile on his face.
Suddenly visions of the Nephilim leeching my soul flit through my mind. I freeze for an instant at the thought before sending my magic tearing against him like a hundred knives. He withstands the barrage, eyes glittering as if he can sense my thoughts. Real fear fills me, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Covered in his own blood from the shallow cuts of my magic, the Nephilim smiles.
“Do you see now, Kane?” He says, pulling me towards him with supernatural strength.
I dig my heels in as his grip moves up my arm. He snaps my arm to the side, breaking it. Bone juts out from my flesh, and I howl in pain. He drags me closer. "Fuck you," I breathe, lashing out at him with my foot.
I aim to catch him in the knee, but the Nephilim forces me to the ground before it can connect. The Nephilim's wings flare, and I try once more to destroy him with my magic. I summon flames, bright and blue with heat to waft over him. The Nephilim's shirt singes badly, hanging from his narrow torso in threads, but the flames have no effect on him. It's as if I was burning myself.
"Weak," he spits out, his palm striking me hard in the jaw. Blood fills my mouth, and my vision goes black for an instant. "Fool. You tried to destroy what you feared. But I'm here now. And you can't hurt me."
Pain throbs through my body, aching, and acute. I can't remember the last time I lost a fight, and the thought has my head even more muddled. "Who are you?" I ask dumbly.
“I am you.” The Nephilim smiles.
I laugh, bloody spittle flying out of my mouth. “Night, I must be uglier than I think.”
“It’s better if you die laughing,” he says, dropping my mangled arm. I cry out pathetically as it falls and hits the ground by my knees. “You’ll taste better that way.”
“Go on then,” I say, flashing my fangs at him. “Try it.”
The Nephilim’s hand lashes towards me so quickly I hardly register it. He stuffs his hand in my mouth, prying my lips apart. Blood seeps into my mouth, his blood, as my fangs pierce his pale skin. The Nephilim ignores the pain, ignores the venom, and pulls until my jaws ache. With a horrific pop, he dislocates my jaw. I scream, wholly and completely, the terrible sound echoing through from the walls. Jaw slack and useless, my blood and the Nephilim’s pours over my legs and onto the dusty floor.
“Kane!” Briar’s voice echoes in my mind through the fog of pain.
The Nephilim's head snaps to the side, and he snarls as if he can hear her too. I make a strangled sound, tongue flapping, as I try to speak. "You brought a friend," the Nephilim coos.
“Gods, Kane!” Briar cries, sprinting down the aisle towards me.
I reach for her, wishing she didn't have to see the disgusting mess of flesh and blood I've become at the Nephilim's hands. I mumble again, pain searing through me at even the smallest attempt to speak. Briar's eyes are locked on me, and in the haze, they seem to glow bright blue. I slump back onto the ground, exhausted and filled with pain. The Nephilim turns on her, but Briar doesn't falter. The room brightens, lights flaring until it's so bright I'm forced to squint. I imagine wings, impossibly white, stretched out behind Briar
