Page 46 of Up In Flames

“Mmhhfh.”

“You said you were researching demons. What does that have to do with Nephilim?”

Another grumble sounds, before she says, “Many believe demons are really the souls of the Nephilim that have died. God won’t take them. Abomination. Nowhere else for them to go but Hell.”

And everything in me sinks again.

Great. On top of everything else, I’m damned?

CHAPTER 15

Sampson

The ruin of char and desolation is far more extensive than I imagined. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but blackened trunks, ghost arms of branches turned to ash, and baked earth. At least the flames are out.

This was almost my grave. Surveilling it now, I can’t imagine how I survived.

I’m not supposed to be checking on the land damage from the fire since I’ve got a week off to recover from my fall into the flames, but I hate to leave a job half-finished. Any little ember holding tight in damp brush might be enough to start another conflagration. It’s my habit to walk the scene afterward. No sense slacking now.

Plus, Nina wanted to work this morning for a couple of hours. She said she had ideas for Darius, one of her characters, so I said I’d go home to get a change of clothing, but at the last minute, I decided to swing down to do my check. The one thing I don’t want to do is crowd her. We went from enemies to lovers so fast, she probably hasn’t had a chance to process all the reasons she should keep me in her life. Sure, she’s intrigued right now by the sex, not to mention the giant thing, but I’m going to need to do more to earn my place with her. A woman like Nina can have her pick of men. Sooner or later, she’s going to wonder why she’s with me… and not with a human male.

I close my eyes and breathe deep, forcing my heart to stop pounding. I’m not unworthy. There’s no reason to think that I am just because some fairy tales are screwing with my life. And I’m human. I have to be.

I just have to be.

My thoughts take me through the forest and out the other side of the burn radius before I circle the perimeter. I follow random pathways in and back out so I can get a good view of the char damage. The air might smell like carbon and ozone, but already birds are chirping, squirrels are scrambling, and nature is reasserting its privileges. The breeze carries the scents of pine from the undamaged rim further up the mountain, and it’s good. Clean. Hopeful.

I helped with the effort to prevent the spread. I can be proud of my little part in the containment of the blaze. It’s what I love most about being a firefighter: the results of actions taken become almost immediately visible.

I’m not sure how long I walk, or how far, but by the time I arrive back at my truck, I’m exhausted. Between my marathon fucking sessions with Nina, my injuries, and the hike today, I’m ready for a few hours of nothing but movies and cuddling—with Nina, but also with Mr. Mittens. Like most cats, he’s a bit standoffish, but what he lacks in sociability, he makes up for in personality.

I chuckle, thinking about how he tumbled off the bookshelf last night right after Nina fell asleep. The hiss and the affronted look he threw me, as if his falling was my fault, amused me enough that I could finally let go. At least the cat turned my mind from giants, demons, and Nephilim, all of which I’m going to have to contemplate soon, but not just now. I’m not ready.

But who’s ever ready to face the fact that they might not be the species they always thought they were?

After throwing my empty water bottle in the back seat and checking my surroundings, I slide along the far side so I’m trapped between partially charred trees and my passenger side door. Pulling at my zipper, I relieve my bladder against a spindly fir. I know it’s a guy thing, but peeing out in the forest always gives me an appreciation for being alive.

Suddenly, the sound of crisping leaves crackles behind me. I jump around, pants still open, dick hanging out, to find… Xy. It must be him. The guy is nearly my height, maybe four or five inches shorter, and even with him sticking to the shadows, I can see that his craggy face looks similar to mine. Older, though, and less good-looking.

I’m not prideful. It’s just fact. His nose is too hooked for him to be handsome, his eyes too sunken, his flesh too flaccid, and there’s dirt ground into the lines of his face. But he’s powerfully built, stockier than I am, with a shorter neck. Still, he’s close enough to me that I can see why the hospital nurse thought we were related.

“Xy?”

He holds out his arms. “In the flesh. Same could be said about you.” He nods his head towards my dick, which I belatedly remember is hanging out of my pants.

Quickly, I shove it back inside and zip up, relieved the moment I realize that I haven’t caught my flesh in the metal teeth.

He takes a step closer but still sticks to the gloom. “Look at big old you with such a teeny, tiny dick. The brothers will laugh you out of the caves if they catch sight of that twig you’re carrying around in your pants.”

Definitely Xy. The voice is the same one I remember from the hospital room. But… did he seriously just insult the size of my dick?

“Did you just… no, you know what? Never mind. It’s big enough, thanks.”

“Not unless you’re one hell of a grower. My cock is inches bigger than yours, and I’m nearly half a foot shorter in height. What’ve you got? Looks like you might reach eight inches on a good day.”

More like ten. I’m a guy. I’ve measured. But okay.

I shrug, like his words don’t matter. And they shouldn’t matter, but somehow, they still sting. Somehow, they make me feel like I’m lacking, which is completely ridiculous, but I feel the rush of embarrassment heat my face, anyway.