Page 93 of Scrooged for the Holidays
I look up and grip the book in my hands. The tattoo on Kai’s back is heavy in the forefront of my mind. And given what I’ve experienced these last two nights, what this says about angels fits. Both Remi and Kai have been guiding me through what I thought were nightmares—the nightmares they both tried to tell me were real.
Burning annoyance crawls up my neck, but who could blame me? If they are what they say they are, what person in their right mind would believe them? It’s only something that happens in stories, not real life. Or at least I thought…
I read on, absorbing the information. I’m getting to the end when the word I was looking for stops me in my tracks.Nephilim. The skin on the back of my neck and arms lights up with goosebumps, and my stomach flips with excitement.
Nephilim are beings born of both divine and human DNA. They are often seen as beings caught between two worlds, neither fully mortal nor purely celestial. They’re stronger and wiser than humans and utterly beautiful, living hundreds,if not thousands, of years.
Not much is known about Nephilim, and there is no consensus on if they are good or bad. Certain texts warn they are omens and bring only sin as the bastards of heaven, while others say they are peaceful and bring only good. Some texts mention that they were once protectors of the earth, but no proof has been found that they’ve ever existed. If they do, they stay hidden.
“Enjoying your book?”
Said book drops to the floor, and my butt flies off my seat. “Oh my God.”
“God’s not here, Greer. Only me.”
Sam’s tall and well-muscled body steps out from the shadows near a bookshelf, stopping to pick up the book I nearly chucked into the fire. He flips it over and studies the cover, his lip twitching before he hands it back to me.
“Interesting choice of literature.” I take it as his eyes fall to the monster romance I also brought over with me. We already discussed my love for tentacles over dinner last night, and I’m not going to be ashamed of it now.
“It’s your store, right?” I ask after I’ve caught my breath. My eyes snag his dark gaze, black irises that remind me of staring into the bottom of a deep well. The only light in them is from the flames of the flickering fire.
“It is.”
The warm baritone of his voice sparks that familiar pull in my gut, the one I haven’t been able to shake since I arrived here. Last night, in Sam’s room, it shifted into something else entirely: a passionate desire. Fierce, unyielding, all-consuming. And though that fire has been burning since the moment I walked away from them, now it feels sharper. Focused. Hungry for something only Sam can provide.
“Are you calling the books you stock in your store an ‘interesting choice,’ then?”
He takes another step forward so the fire lights his entire frame. He’s wearing a black sweater and black slacks with black loafers, his hair perfectly in place and his jaw clean shaven. Themore I study him, the more I think that Nephilim are real and that his words “God’s not here” make a lot more sense if that is true. I remember Kai telling me he was a Nephilim and not God and Remi saying much the same, though he asked me to call him Remiel and eventually Daddy.
The ghost of a smile tugs the corner of his lips. “I was simply making an observation. I don’t think anyone has picked up that book. To be honest, I don’t remember stocking it.”
“It was on the table of new books.” I gesture to where I found it andThe Heir of the Sea.
The space between his eyebrows furrows. “I didn’t put it there.”
He says it like he’s saying it to himself, but I answer anyway. “Someone did. A worker, maybe?”
He places his hands in his pockets and thinks for a long moment. “Could have been.”
“Or a stray customer.”
He looks up at me. “I don’t get many customers in here.”
“Seems like that’s a theme in this town.”
He sits in the empty chair across from mine. “Want to give me business tips as well?”
I chuckle. “Something tells me you wouldn’t listen.”
“You might be right.”
I look around the space and absorb the dark yet light of it. Despite it being a bit heavier in color—and it could definitely use another window—it feels warm and sacred. The books seem to be keeping the darkness at bay.
“If it’s worth anything, I wouldn’t change it.”
“You wouldn’t?” He props his elbows on his knees.
“No. I’d say if people knew it existed, you’d have a constant stream of customers.”
