“I’ve mentioned to Jared that we’re looking in the wrong place. If you can’t find the answers in the Bible of Hell, shouldn’t you look in Heaven’s?”
The priest shrugged. “I suppose so.” He walked over to the counter and picked up the book. “It’s worth a try. A third of the Bible is prophecy.”
I offered Jared my glass, and he took a sip. When he handed it back to me, he kissed my cheek. The two men returned to their chairs, this time opening Heaven’s Bible.
Father Francis flipped the pages. “Let’s start with anything that discusses women with child in the end days.”
Jared nodded, and waited for the priest to find the first passage. They discussed trumpets, and something about seals—I imagined angels opening wax-sealed envelopes the way celebrities do at award shows—and a dragon and a woman with child. I tried to tune that part out, because the sound of it terrified me. But I didn’t have the luxury of putting frightening prophecy to the back of my mind. Because of what I had seen the last two years, I knew prophecies were very real possibilities. My only defense against the instinct to run screaming was simply not to hear. The priest discussed literal and symbolic interpretations, among other things that made my head spin. I wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion, the fact that I was purposely trying not to pay attention, or that their discussion really was simply over my head. At any rate, I was pregnant, tired, and irritable.
“It would be nice if you two wouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I grumbled.
Jared’s eyes turned soft, and he reached for me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We’re trying to hurry, but we need to be thorough. This is our last chance.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Kim needs to return the book to Jerusalem. I’ve made her wait long enough.”
I nodded. Traveling to Jerusalem had crossed my mind many times. Shax and the rest of his minions would not make it easy for us to return his book to the one place he can’t go. The Sepulchre was above the tomb of Jesus; the creatures of Hell were forbidden. Even infinite, divine patience refused to tolerate desecration of the Sepulchre. The war could start the moment the plane lands, or they could try to keep us from even getting on the plane. We had no idea what would happen. That was the worst part.
Father Francis looked up from the pages. His eyes were unfocused as he slipped deeper into thought. “There is an ancient Jewish apocryphal text called the Fourth Esdras. The archangel Uriel describes many things about the end of days.”
Jared frowned. “I know what you’re about to say, and I know Uriel. Gabriel is the loudest adversary of Hybrids. Uriel is the second.”
“Nevertheless, his prophecy has some merit. He says—”
Jared cut him off. “Father….”
My curiosity and sense of self-preservation outweighed everything else. “Tell me, Father. I want to know.”
Jared sighed, and the priest continued, “He specifically mentions pregnant women in the Fourth Esdras. He says ‘Pregnant women will give birth to monsters.’”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Uriel thinks I’m a monster.”
I hesitated. “What…what kind of monsters?”
The priest glanced at Jared, and then back at me. “He makes many prophecies similar to Revelations. He refers to this as ‘The Beginning of Sorrows’. Jesus also states, ‘Woe to those who are pregnant or nursing babies in those days.’”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jared said.
“You need to listen,” I said. “Maybe you’re unable to figure this out because you refuse to hear the truth. Maybe this is out of our hands.”
Jared’s brows pulled in. “Those prophecies state an abundance of Hybrid births. If something like that were happening, we would hear about it. Besides, Bean isn’t a Hybrid.”
Father Francis pushed up his glasses, clearly intrigued. “You know this for a fact?”
“Yes. The only child capable of this kind of reaction from Hell, a child capable of disturbing the Balance, will be more than a Hybrid.”
“Your child isn’t human?”
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, cradling Bean protectively. “You make the baby sound like an abomination.”
“Isn’t it?” Father Francis said.
Jared stood. “No. It’s a child. Our child.” He took my hand and I stood with him.
“Forgive me,” Father Francis said. He stood before us. “I didn’t mean to offend you. We are in strange times—frightening times. I let panic get in the way of my thoughts. I just don’t see how it’s possible.”
“Nina is a descendant of the Nephilim,” Jared said, matter-of-factly.
The priest was confused. “But, this is what you are. Nephilim are children of angels, born of human women.”
Jared shook his head. “I am the son of an Arch. The Nephilim bred the likes of Goliath. Giants not meant to blend in. These angels roamed the earth. They had…rebelled.”