Sweet Peril

It wasn’t about me, and I couldn’t lose sight of that. My life was a tiny dot on the map. But even those tiny dots could make a difference—especially when they came together. I grasped that thread of hope and let it lift me.

The next morning Patti and I puttered around the kitchen in slow motion, waiting for Dad to show.

“Taste this.” Patti held out a plastic spoon she’d been using to stir the pitcher of sweet tea. I took the offered sip.

It was perfect, as always. I gave her a thumbs-up, then squinted my eyes against the sharp pounding in my head.

“A couple aspirin would help,” Patti said.

I shook my head. No painkillers. They’d burn through me too quickly to be worthwhile anyway.

When Dad showed up, he skipped all greetings, coming straight for me, wearing faded black leather pants and a white T-shirt tight around his wide chest and arms.

“What’s going on?” he asked in a rough voice, searching my face.

He appeared the same as always—like a giant brute glaring down at me with his shaved head and graying goatee, but I knew it was only a harsh look of concern.

“Hello to you, too,” I said. I went into his arms and let him squeeze me. After half a year, it was a sweet relief to see him again.

I reached out and took his hand.

“Let’s sit down,” I told him. We sat next to each other on the couch, with Patti across from us in the rocking recliner. He watched me intently. “Something major happened yesterday. Remember Sister Ruth, who died before I met her?” Dad nodded. “Well, her spirit found me after all this time and she told me a prophecy.”

His demeanor changed. His eyes got bigger and he sat up straighter. “Go on.”

I told him everything. How Sister Ruth was a heavenly Neph, and who she’d descended from. When I got to the part in the prophecy about the fate of the demons, and a second chance at heaven, his eyes glazed over, lost in thought. The room quieted as we all pondered the possibilities. I was once again filled with exhilaration, imagining earth without demons, and that excitement was followed closely by the fear of having no clue what I’d have to do to make it happen.

I squeezed Dad’s hand.

“You’re sure she said that?” he whispered gruffly. “You’re positive about every word?”

“I’m positive.”

When he finally sucked in a breath, his body shuddered. Dad brought my hand up to his lips for a kiss, then patted it and laughed with a quick burst of joy.

“You don’t know what this means to me. The thought of going home again . . .” He brought my hand to his heart. “Thank you, thank you.”

I had a hunch he wasn’t thanking me. I glanced at Patti, whose eyes were glistening just as mine were.

Dad stood and began to pace, running a hand over his smooth head. He whispered “hot damn” under his breath and grinned to himself. “I can’t believe there’s really a prophecy.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Back before I became a Duke, there were legends of a supposed prophecy of a Nephilim destroying the demons, but nobody believed it. They all thought it was made up by angels to psyche us out. Duke Rahab’s always hated the Neph and refused to have any of his own. I think it’s ’cause rumors of that prophecy left a bad taste in his mouth.” He stood there, shaking his head as if he were still trying to process it all.

“Why don’t I get us something to drink?” Patti said, standing. She tried to pass my dad, but he reached out and grabbed her up in a bear hug, laughing and spinning her around. Patti let out a surprised laugh and then slapped at his shoulder until he let her down. She shook her head and grinned all the way to the kitchen, a blast of orange and yellow swirling through her aura.

He beamed at me, and what could I do but smile back? The man-demon was joyous.

The three of us sat at the table with our glasses.

“Okay. What are we going to do?” I asked Dad. “How do I make this happen?”

I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he went into business mode. He spoke in quick bursts as thoughts came to him.

“Sister Ruth was right. You’ll need allies. We’ll need to build an army of Neph willing to help when the time comes. Not all the Neph can be trusted. I’ll have to research them. It could take a while. We’ll have to be patient and careful in the meantime. The Dukes are a suspicious group and we’ll never be fully off the hook with them after that summit. I can’t touch the Sword of Righteousness, but I can show you some basic sword skills and get you in some classes. You’ve got that leg holster we made for the hilt, so you’ll need to keep it on you at all times. We’ll get you a passport right away. You’ll need a partner who can travel with you to recruit the other Neph. I can talk to that son of Alocer and see if he’s willing. The two of you can go on long weekends and school breaks. Maybe even—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dad.” My brain flipped out when he said “army” and then short-circuited at the mention of “sword skills.” I wasn’t some “Giant of Old” like the Bible called Nephilim.

“What?” he asked. “You don’t want to work with Alocer’s kid? I thought you liked him.”

“I do. Kope’s great. And he’s the only one whose father isn’t keeping dibs on him. I get that. But as far as the prophecy . . . what if . . . I don’t know. This thing is so huge. How do we even know it’s about me? It just says ‘A Nephilim pure of heart,’ so there could be others. What if I . . .” Can’t do it.