Free The Nephilim: Book One by Bridgette Blackstone Page A

be open a few minutes,
tops.” When Sophie didn’t move, Mona grabbed her wrist and pulled her with the
same abnormal strength she’d shown before, and Sophie found herself falling
headlong into the light.
    For a moment, she was blind,
stumbling indiscriminately forward with only Mona’s firm grip around her wrist.
She blinked and rubbed at her eyes as they adjusted, but could not understand
why they would not focus. The light about her slowly dimmed from its brilliant
white and settled into a sort of dull gray, like that of unpolished silver or
an old stone, and her vision clouded, making the sky and ground
indistinguishable.
    Mona popped up before her then, her
face a sharp contrast against the mottled color of the world around them.
"So, where have you brought us?"
    "Me?" Sophie focused on
the girl and realized her sight was not to blame, but it indeed was this place
they’d entered that seemed to made entirely of mist.
    Mona pointed off to their right and
Sophie followed her finger to see a building in the distance. It looked to be
hovering there in the wispiness, its brick facade bold and bright against the
muted grays of this world. The little place was perfectly symmetrical with two
windows on either side, flanked themselves with wooden shutters and matching
flower boxes with tiny pink blooms, though there was no sign of flora
elsewhere. It had a high-peaked roof with dark shingles and she knew, somehow,
it would have a chimney poking out from its very center. It was so familiar but
so ill-placed. "Where is the mailbox?" she asked herself quietly,
"And the big tree and tire swing?"
    As she stepped toward it, the door,
an inviting forest green, swung open and she stopped, Mona at her heel.
    "Someone’s here?"
Trepidation rose in Mona’s voice, though she tried to suppress it, and she placed
a protective hand on Sophie’s shoulder.
    He stood in the doorway, gripping
the knob so tightly Sophie could see the veins protruding from his arm even at
this distance. He stood rigidly, as if on edge, but below his ruddy hair his
face was the same, soft, comforting, with knitted brow and crooked nose. Sophie
could feel a lump form in her throat.
    "Careful," Mona cautioned
as Sophie started forward.
    "No," Sophie shook her
head, "It’s okay."
    "You know him?" her
cousin was confused, walking briskly at her side.
    The man was smiling at her, an
anxious sort of grin. Sophie smiled back, "I’m not sure."
     

 
    Chapter 6
     
    "We've searched everywhere,
sir, she just hasn't shown—"
    "That's not good enough!"
The vacant hall quaked with his voice as he slammed a fist down onto the arm of
the stone throne. Torch lights reflected in his eyes, red and angry, and he
trembled with his own rage, but he reigned in his voice, dropping it into a
solemn whisper, "That's just not good enough."
    A small but rotund creature with
leathery black skin and a long, serpentine tail stood at the foot of the stairs
leading to the throne, staring up at the royal with bulbous, watery eyes.
"If I may suggest, we could possibly name a new handmaiden, or, perhaps,
we may leave that position vacant seeing as your sister—"
    "Go." Troian stood, fists
balled at his sides. He could feel the fury pulsating within him, darkness
swelling around him, pushing against his every fiber. The creature hesitated a
moment, but, with a glimpse of Trojan’s fiery eyes, bolted from the hall.
    Troian swung around and released
his rage, igniting the banners that hung behind the throne. Flames climbed up
the material ravenously and licked at the ceiling, illuminating the room. When
the report came in that Verrine had gone missing, he was sure she would return
within a day: it was too foolish for her to go alone, and she would surely turn
back before she reached the second realm. As time passed, however, his
assurance turned to worry, from worry to fear, and fear to anger. Losing his
sister to that place was bad enough, and his parents descending deeper into the
realms