Page 1 of The Nephilim's Touch
1
GABE
Who startsa bar fight with a gargoyle?
I’ve been in Hex, Indiana for all of six months, and there are a few things I’ve noticed.
People here are strange.
WouldIstart a bar fight with a drunk gargoyleora demon drowning his sorrows in flaming HellFire? No, nope, nada. I’d get my ass right out of dodge. But Hex has a certain appeal to it that I’ve fallen in love with. That and, well, I’m the bartender at Flutter and Fangs and I can’t just bounce when there’s a conflict. I mean, I probably could, but my boss wouldprobablybe upset with me.
I wiggle a bottle of vodka in front of the pair. “If you both settle down, I’ll pour you each a round of free drinks, but you gotta chill.”
“Domhnall’s starting shit again,” Warwick, a crossroads demon, snarls. His blue tail whips back and forth with his agitation as he bares his teeth at the gargoyle who rolls his eyes.
Domhnall growls back. “That’s because you’realwaysin here sniveling about your lost love. No one cares anymore. Grow the fuck up andmove on.”
Wick lunges at Domhnall, and I reach across the bar top to grab him by the collar. Thank goodness neither have wings at the moment.
Honestly, I don’t mind Wick talking about Ethan. I have faith the two will be reunited some day and I hope I can bear witness to it. It’s obvious Wick loves this man with his whole heart and I dream of having someone love me just as deeply one day. I sigh at the thought. It’s too lovely and I’m not worthy of the dream.
Once Warwick settles down, I release him. “Wick, how about you go hang out with Frankie for a little while?” I tip my head towards the Hellhound.
Frankie sits in a soft dog bed across the room. She’s chewing on a toy, not paying attention to anyone. She looks like a giant Doberman, and honestly, I was terrified of her at first, but she has to be the sweetest Hellhound that has ever existed. Not that I’ve met many. Okay, only just Frankie. Blue flames lick at her tail and ears. I’d go play with her myself if I wasn’t busy.
Reluctantly, Wick drags his feet towards her. His tail slides across the floor like some sad creature being pulled along. When he sits on one of the plush leather couches, he pats his lap. Frankie’s ears twitch and she hops up with a happy little bark. Precious!
“Good riddance,” Domhnall says under his breath as he leans in toward me. “Wick acts like he’s a child sometimes. Ethan’s been gone for years. He needs to move on.”
I shrug as I wipe down the counter. “I don’t think he does.”
Domhnall snorts. “That’s because you’re a romantic, too.”
I tap my nose. “True. Very true. But hasn’t Wick’s brother been on the run for a while? So there’s this double whammy of missing people and feeling rejected. So you antagonizing him doesn’t help.” I throw my dishtowel over my shoulder and give Domhnall a mostly fake glare. He’s handsome with gray eyes and big muscles. I know he has wings, but I’ve never seen them.
Most people in Hex are ridiculously attractive. I haven’t met anyone I wouldn’t crawl into bed with if they asked me. But no one really knows me.
“Ah, forgot about his brother.” Domhnall lifts his drink to his lips. “Maybe I should apologize,” he mumbles while placing his money on the counter.
“That’s what I like to hear.” I smack the counter and turn to wipe up a bit of spilled juice from earlier.
The barstool groans as he stands. Thank goodness everything here can withstand the weight of a gargoyle.
I’ve only heard stories of Warwick’s older brother, Van. He seems like a hoot and total opposite of Wick, but I also want to throat punch him for putting his brother through so much.
Van is best friends with my boss Pike and even Pike hasn’t heard from him in over a year. I can’t imagine what Warwick is going through. Okay, I can, but in a different way.
You see, I’m a nephilim. Mom’s an angel, dad was a human, and I’m, well, me. I can’t even say I’m a part of both worlds because I’ve never been to the angel realm, hardly know my mother, and have zero idea what it means tobepart angel.
I’ve only met my mother twice in my entire life. Once when I sprouted wings at sixteen—that was fun—and again about six months ago after dad died and I needed a place to go and mourn without worrying whether I can contain my magic. Mom told me about Hex, Indiana, and I plan to spend my life here. Everyone is so damn welcoming. I don’t think I ever want to venture back out into the so-called normal parts of the human realm.
Flutter and Fangs used to be a strip joint, but now it’s just a bar with entertainment that’s not always pole dancing. Tonight we have karaoke and it seems to be the favored event of everyone in Hex.
Apparently, around the same time Van disappeared, the leading coven considered disbanding Hex. Thankfully, theydidn’t, and I get to live my best life. It’s only taken my entire twenty-eight years to get here. Not that dad did a bad job raising me or anything. Humans are just… cruel. Not dad though. Dad was… well, dad. He did the best he could.
“Hey, Gabe,” Pike waves his hand in front of my face. My boss is a former crossroads demon. His partner, Lark, destroyed his crossroads and broke the curse, now Pike’s an incubus.
“Sorry, kinda spaced out there. Just thinking.”
