“He was a Nephilim?”
“Of course. As were many of the other races listed in the Old Testament. For instance, the Raphaims of Genesis were descendants of Rapha, which, in Hebrew, means fearful. In many translations, the word giant was replaced with Nephilim as if the two were interchangeable.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” My Hebrew was iffy to nonexistent.
“In the Old Testament days, giants were common, but as centuries passed, we needed to blend in better.”
“Why?”
“We had ninety percent of our number erased by forty days and nights of rain; there was no telling what might come next if we weren’t careful.”
“What did you do?”
“We became the giants of each time. During the era of the Greeks and the Romans, we were gods.” I snorted and he cast me a quick glance. “You’ve never heard the tales of Greece and Rome? Those stories of the gods who mated with humans.”
“I’ve heard them. Myths.”
“Remember the Titans?”
My eyes widened. For an instant I thought he was talking about the Denzel Washington movie, and I had a little brain freeze as my mind scrambled for the sense in that.
“A race of godlike giants who ruled Greece in ancient times,” he explained. “The more famous gods of Greece are descended from them. Gods who had amazing supernatural powers.”
“The Greek gods weren’t real.”
“No? What about the pyramids? You think human hands could build something like that? You had help, seer, from the Nephilim. Giants of stature and strength. Only they could have performed such a feat.”
“There are pyramids all over the world.”
“As there are Nephilim everywhere.” He waved away any further protest and moved on. “In the time of the Crusades, we joined in. We were the very best of the best, warriors who never died.”
“I’d think you would have joined the—” I tried to remember what the “other side” was labeled during the Crusades. “Infidels. Cut down on the competition.”
“Humans aren’t competition, and religion is irrelevant to us.” He pointed at the map. “There are seers and demon killers everywhere. The way they worship, whether they refer to their deity as God or Jehovah or Allah has no bearing on their being called to the fight.”
“Angels, fallen and otherwise, are Christian beings.”
“The angels fell long before Christ.”
Rats. Good point.
“The Old Testament happened,” he continued. “It’s history, not myth. As we are.”
“How are you blending in these days?”
“Captains of industry, lords of the boardroom, leaders of governments worldwide.” He bowed and swept out his arm before straightening. “Wherever there’s a success story that pushes the boundaries of believability there you will find us.”
“Make hay while the sun shines,” I murmured.
“Precisely.”
“Get ready for the rain.”
His smile faded. “I do not know where your arrogance comes from. You are in our power. You are his slave. You do not even have clothes to cover yourself. You have been stripped of everything.”
Not everything, I thought. I had powers they didn’t know about. They had to be good for something or why have them? Why give me this gift if it couldn’t be used to win the war?
I was going to figure out how to bring the Strega down, and Jimmy too, if he didn’t snap out of it, or I was going to die trying.
But I guess that had been the plan all along.
One of the minions handed the Strega a phone. When he began to chatter in Italian, I lost interest.
“Let’s go.” Jimmy took me by the arm and led me from the war room to the elevator. “You need to rest.”
“Is that what you call it?” I muttered.
“Wouldn’t you like some food?”
“Not hungry.” My stomach growled.
“Making yourself sick isn’t going to change anything.”
He was right. If I wanted any chance of getting out of here, I had to eat, to sleep, to find some freaking clothes.
The elevator opened on the penthouse. The table was set for one. Steak. Baked potato. Spinach salad. Cabernet. Was I was being fattened up like the proverbial sacrificial lamb?
Yes.
Nevertheless, I made myself sit at the table and consume everything on the plates; then I sat back, swirling the wine in my glass, sipping slowly.
The sun fell, casting shadows across the towering buildings of Manhattan. Up here, it was hard to believe millions of people scurried around down there. Up here, it was hard to believe there were any other problems in the world but my own. But then my problem was the world and how to save it.
Jimmy lounged on the leather couch, bare feet on the coffee table. His shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loose, framing his beautiful chest. All the cuts made by the Strega were gone, his skin smooth, toned, and tanned. Perfect.
I glanced away and took a gulp of wine.
“You want me,” he said.
“No.”