Adrienne Kama - The Nephilim War 03 - Resurrection.pdf
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RESURRECTION Adrienne Kama 1
The Nephilim War:
Resurrection
By
Adrienne Kama
RESURRECTION Adrienne Kama 2
© copyright by Adrienne Kama, April 2007
Cover art by Jenny Dixon, April 2007
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.
RESURRECTION Adrienne Kama 3
Chapter One
Raven paced. He knew his behavior would be a clear indicator to his interrogator
of his mental state, but he didn't care. The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up.
Too much time had passed and he had suffered too much to let this summons go to waste.
So much was at stake; his sanity, his happiness, his very existence hung in the balance.
He couldn’t sit quietly while so much was set against him.
He dragged his fingers through his hair, knowing it was far too wild and
bedraggled for his current surroundings. What he didn't know was why he had been sent
for. Whatever the reason, he would use the opportunity to finally free himself.
"You'll find your wait more pleasant if you relax, Raven. Sit. Enjoy the music. I
find there's nothing a good song can't remedy." The receptionist stared up at him, tapping
one silver clog to the beat and bobbing her head back and forth. Her glasses were perched
precariously at the tip of her nose and her voice was a perverse mix of Ethel Merman and
Grandma Moses. "Oh, I just love Wagner. He's my guilty pleasure.
Ride of the Valkyries
is my favorite of all his compositions."
He glanced again at the tiny sentry behind the desk. "So the music artist was a
rebel." Raven could respect a rebel, someone who strayed from the norm. An individual
like he was. Though if things went his way today, his days of individuality were history.
"What did he do?"
"If you weren't German, he didn't much like you. He was a little too patriotic, and
as it would turn out, he became a major inspiration for Adolph Hitler."
Now that was a name Raven recognized and loathed. He paused to listen. The
melodic refrain dropped to a somber melody and teased. Slowly, exquisitely, it built,
gradually becoming louder. The notes fell faster, until finally it rose again in triumphant
exultation. It was a masterful composition. It made him feel like finding an old Viking
ship, hiring some Vikings, and riding out to pillage and ravish. "Sounds like a battle
song."
"I guess it does."
"Raven."
Raven turned to face the man filling the open doorway. He looked precisely as
Raven remembered, tall, with close-cropped black hair. His cherubic mouth and rounded
cheeks had always made him look serene, but today that serenity was marred by the deep
creases around his eyes.
It was like stepping back in time. "Michael."
"Please," Michael said, motioning Raven in. "Time is of the essence."
Raven walked to the door, stepped into the sterile space behind his host, crossed
to the lone piece of furniture in the room--an unadorned oak desk--and stood opposite
Michael, who had stationed himself behind the desk to wait.
Michael waved his hand absently. “Have a seat, Raven.”
Raven nearly emitted a gasp of surprise when he felt the pressure of solid wood
against the back of his leg. Twisting half way around, he saw an overstuffed armchair
now sat in what had been empty space a moment ago.
“Slick,” Raven muttered, as he settled his weight into the thick cushions.
RESURRECTION Adrienne Kama 4
Michael had created a similar chair for himself, and now sat facing Raven, fingers
entwined and resting on the desk before him.
Raven decided to let Michael speak before he threw himself on Michael’s mercy.
He might as well maintain whatever dignity he could for as long as possible.
"I trust your journey here was comfortable?"
Raven folded his hands in his lap and focused all of his energy on maintaining a
calm façade. "I have no complaints in that regard."
"I will be to the point, Raven. Azriel has escaped."
Raven shook his head, thinking for a moment that he hadn’t heard correctly.
"What do you mean he escaped?"
"I don't know how he did it. He was bound in the outer darkness of Dudael.
Escape in any manner should have been impossible."
"I know well the skill of your binding men." Raven lifted his wrists to display the
healing red welts marring his skin. "And I know the difficulties inherent in existing far
below the earth in a place so old even time has forgotten it. If you have brought me here
to heap new accusations on me …." He swallowed the next words and forced his fists
into his lap. This was his one chance at freedom. He didn't want to be sent back to his
prison. Arguing with Michael would be the quickest way to see his plans ruined. "I don't
know how he escaped. He’s the only who has managed it. The rest of the Watchers
remain captive."
"I didn't bring you here to accuse you. I know you didn't have anything to do with
the escape. I brought you here because I need your help."
Loud, raucous laughter echoed off the cream-white walls of the office. Raven
couldn't help himself. "You come to me for help?" He threw his head back and laughed
again. "How very rich of you, old friend. You want me to come to your aid when you
refused to lift a finger to come to mine?"
"You made your own choices, Raven."
"You want me to round the rogue up and take him back to Dudael with me? You
forget, his prison was kept a secret from us. I wouldn't know where within Dudael to take
him. I suppose I could take him to be bound with the rest of us, but Azriel always thought
he was above us."
Lips drawn down into a scowl, Michael edged closer to the desk. "Things are
more serious than you think, Raven. The future of man …."
"And what do I care for the future of man, our Father's chosen few? Why do you
care what happens to man? They've never done anything for you." He rose from his seat
and paced. He’d been ready to throw himself on Michael's mercy. He would have done
anything to free himself from his unfair imprisonment, but he would not lower himself so
far as to become a patron of men.
"Hear me out, Raven. Are you so ready to return to your pit and your chains?"
"I am not playing the patsy for men. Or for you. What, do you propose, I help
them so you can pat me on the head then send me back to Dudael?"
"Hear me out. Please."
It was the please that got him. That one word told Raven more than anything else
Michael could have said. Against his better judgment, Raven settled back into his chair.
RESURRECTION Adrienne Kama 5
Michael rose and went to a water cooler that had appeared sometime when Raven
wasn’t looking. Michael poured a cup of cold water for himself and one for Raven.
Returning, he handed Raven a cup and sat on the corner of his desk. "Azriel flies with the
wind. If he succeeds with his plans, a war unlike any you have ever seen will rage. Unlike
the first war that ripped the heavens into two factions. All manner of creatures will walk
the earth. Already the ghouls have come out of hiding. If Azriel has his way, evil will
reign. Blood will flow like water, and fire will pour from the heavens. Life as we know it
will come to an end, and the future of good will hang in the balance."
"Haven't lost your touch for the melodramatic, I see. Anyway, I've read the book.
Hell, I watched John write the book. Fire and brimstone and all the rest of it."
"This isn't revelation, Raven, and it's not Armageddon. As you know, that book
has been written, the end decided. What faces us now is the unknown. If Azriel succeeds,
anything is possible. Do you understand that? Anything."
"Even if such a thing were to happen, why should I care? It would mean my
freedom."
Michael set his cup down and stared levelly at Raven. "Come on, Raven, I know
you. I know you wouldn't want this any more than I would."
Raven turned from Michael and got to his feet again, pacing. "If it meant my
freedom, I wouldn't care. You don't know what it's been like for me. Millennia after
millennia pass, and I remain bound in that pit. You cannot know what it's like, you in
your lofty office. I have the stench of foul bodies as my air, and the heat of the earth
around me. I have my own desires to keep me company and no woman to ever fill them.
This human body I left the heavens to have has become a prison for me. Lust, Michael,
and want and need, that is what I've become. I want my freedom. If Azriel's little act of
treason sets me free, I won't stop it. No matter the cost."
"Raven."
He stopped pacing to face Michael. "What Michael?"
"Help us and you shall have your freedom. You have my word."
Raven stared, unconvinced. "And what does The Other say?"
"It was on His word that I sent for you."
Raven collapsed into his chair. "But why me? Why not you?"
"You know nobody from the heavenly realm can interfere."
"And men? Why can't they help their own?"
"No man can stand up to the power of Azriel. You know that. And he must be
destroyed."
There was the laughter again. Raven couldn't help himself. "Do you forget the
rules so easily? I can't kill Azriel. An angel cannot kill another, fallen or not."
"Of course
you
can't kill Azriel. Nevertheless, he must be stopped."
"You have your nerve."
"We've tried to contact him ourselves. He refuses to answer our calls. We've sent
many to seek him, to convince him of the ramifications of what he's doing."
"Oh, I see." Raven folded his arms over his chest and glared. "Now you want me
to step in."
"Raven, please. You have to understand."
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