Nephilim Order of Blackthorn

By Mandy Madrox

Vatican City is an inspiring sight to behold; unless all you’re seeing is four walls of a cell deep within its dungeon. Most people go abroad and bring home a cheap souvenir; Raven Ashlynn brings home a whole person and a new set of rules. While her future is on the line, so is the future of the city. Warlocks have set their sights on Kankakee. A dark summoning in Chicago draws attention to what she is which leads to a heartbreaking introduction, and an intriguing offer. War breaks out between the gang and the Order of Blackthorn. Lines are crossed, and as the ashes settle, everything changes. Order of Blackthorn is the third volume out of six in the Nephilim series by Mandy Madrox. Some of the events in this fantasy novel take place in Kankakee, Illinois.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mandy Madrox
• Release date: May 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463572238

Mandy Madrox

If you’ve ever heard the old folk song, The City of New Orleans, you’ve at least heard the name of the city I’m from. “All along the southbound odyssey. The train pulls out at Kankakee.”I have always had a pretty active imagination and a fascination for all thing’s horror, fantasy and science fiction. One of my favorite childhood memories was pretending to be asleep, so I could stay up late to watch horror movies on the tiny black n white tv in my bedroom. To this day, I look forward to the Halloween season for all the horror marathons on tv. I can’t get enough — even the ‘cheesy’ old ones.An all-around geek, I’m into many different fandoms. I have an appreciation for older cars and older things. Music is pretty much anything. Video games? Yes, in my spare time.My first published work was “Curse of the Dark Heart”, a short horror story included in Bleed Black Volume 1, (January 2015) an anthology put together by Black Heart Comics to raise money for Juvenile Diabetes.I love to write. I don’t want to write the next ‘big thing’ I just want to tell a good story. Aside from the Nephilim series, I have a few ideas within the science fiction genre I’m working on, another in the fantasy realm and a few just for laughs.

Book preview

Nephilim

Order of Blackthorn

By: Mandy Madrox

Smashwords eBook Edition

Copyright © 2019 Mandy Madrox

All rights reserved, no part of this work—names, settings or otherwise---can be reproduced without express permission of the author.

All characters and settings appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or otherwise is unintended and is purely coincidence.

Edited by: Laurie Williams facebook.com/HelpYouTellTheStory

Cover art by: Marika Kraukle

Find Nephilim online:

NephilimNovels.com

Facebook.com/nephilimnovels

Dedicated to my Family.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter One

It can be a magical experience, to walk through the tall grass of an open field in the dead of night. The light from the moon was just enough to illuminate the nocturnal world, but it did so in a gentler way. Thoughts of what was hidden in the grass or of what was beyond the field didn’t come to mind. The moment was simple, as was her thought--follow the two thick bands of indents in the grass. Raven’s bare feet carried her along the grooves as a cool breeze played at the tattered hem of her flowy black sundress. The sound of a cicada broke the silence as the tall grass started to thin and shorten allowing for the roof of a car to come into view. The closer she got, the louder the cicada’s shrilling became. Each step closer also revealed more of a familiar vehicle, an ’86 hatchback Mustang coated in grey primer. It was her old car, the front end smashed into a massive old oak tree that stood in solitude amongst the clearing in the grass. The cicada’s sound became overwhelming as its tone continued wailing into the dead of night.

Raven stepped closer, looking into the driver’s side window. It was empty, but the keys were in the ignition. She then looked around; there was no evidence of anyone walking away. As she looked back at the car, she caught a glimpse of something on the other side of the hood, sticking out from behind the tree. With carefully placed steps, she made her way toward the tree, eyeing the splintered bark and trunk. The hood of the car was crunched in at the point of impact. This was the moment her life changed, the night of the car accident. She hit a tree, not this one. The tree she hit was nowhere near as impressive as the old twisting oak tree in front of her, the trunk of which was wider than the car and had massive extending limbs. Some of them were bent down toward the ground.

The sound of the cicada became unbearable as she walked around the massive tree trunk to get a look at what was sticking protruding from behind it. Rounding around the back, she stilled as she saw it wasn’t a what, but a who. Owen. His body was on the ground with his back arched. His left leg was twisted to the side in an unnatural position, and his right arm stretched out away from her with his hand positioned as if he was reaching for something in the distance. The Grigori’s other hand was reaching for her. His mouth was open wide, and his face showed signs of pain. The veins in his neck and on his hands were blackened. Owen, she whispered, but the cicada’s sounds drowned it out. He looked so pale, and the golden tones of his eyes were faded.

Taking a step forward, she leaned down and to reach for his outstretched hand. The tips of her fingers were about to connect with his when his mouth snapped closed. Sudden silence gripped the area. Raven pulled her hand away from the visage of her friend. She was sorry, blaming herself over and over. It was all her fault; he died because of her.

Raven?

The sound of Zaida’s voice caused Raven to awaken. Hesitantly, she turned her head to look at her fellow Nephilim through prison bars. The cell was just large enough for a bed, toilet, a tiny little sink no larger than a soup bowl and some space to pace in. The small area was where they were keeping her while the trial played out. They weren’t allowing her to take part in the proceedings. It would be sacrilege to allow a demon of any measure to walk the halls of a sacred place such as the Vatican.

When it came to the Vatican, one might think of the Pope or the architectural splendors the city has to offer. Saint Peter’s Basilica or the Sistine Chapel might come to mind. Unless you’ve studied the city, you probably wouldn’t know that Vatican City has the world’s shortest national railway service. A single track stretches nearly a full mile. They have no police force; Italian police patrol the city. There is no prison system, only a few detention cells. Deep underground, however, lies something worse than those detention cells meant to hold problematic tourists or purse thieves.

It was the dead of night when one of the Vatican’s private jets landed in Rome. Vatican City is the smallest country in the world, the headquarters for the Catholic Church, and is home to the Pope, countless holy relics and a plethora of secrets. The Council of Eden also uses the Vatican as a headquarters on Earth. Grigori forces and guardians of the light Nephilim blended in flawlessly. They handled her arrival with some extreme measures. An escort of four unmarked vehicles waited on the tarmac. She was hurried into one of them and whisked away. The car she rode in was marked all over the inside with suppression and containment runes. The vans traveled along the outskirts of the city and unloaded her at a back-service entrance before taking her down into the catacombs.

The cell in which she ended up in was warded, locked down with mortal locks and holy runes. When they took her from Kankakee, Aiden had allowed the use of a belt that suppressed her powers. The pain it caused was immense, and its holy origins burned her skin. Eventually, they took that off, feeling confident in the other security measures in place. The damage it caused would heal in time, but not all wounds are physical. Despite knowing Aiden had little choice, Raven felt betrayed.

Will you look at me? Zaida questioned. Her inquiry was followed by the light scratching of a chair’s legs as she pulled it over the old stone floor. The chair creaked as the woman filled it, holding herself with a calm demeanor touched with concern.

What am I missing? Raven rolled over in the bed, her gaze lazily meeting her half-angel friend’s on the other side of the bars.

They’re looking over the evidence again. The trial has stalled. I want to say it’s because they know there is no real tangible proof you broke your oath, but… She fell silent a moment. Aiden’s been pushing for release. They don’t have anything but testimony that you were there.

Yeah. Raven started. But they’re going to be quick to point a finger. Maybe even try to make it look like I was helping The Afflicted. She sat up in the bed and ran a hand through her hair to straighten it out as she spoke. I understand the assumptions being made there as well. That blade was from a shadow demon, and I recharged it. Pausing, she peered up at the ceiling. Which I know would never have happened if—

If you didn’t run off into that club like you did. Zaida finished the thought. Owen had faith in your ability to handle the situation. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have allowed you to go inside. What happened in there and after, it wasn’t your fault, Raven. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

An awkward silence fell between the two. Zaida expected her to say something, anything. Instead Raven looked down at the stone floor of the cell. She felt the turning point was going into the club to confront the Afflicted. They should have waited for Aiden to return. But would his presence have made any real difference? Maybe it doesn’t matter. She broke the silence as she lifted her head to look at the woman on the other side of the bars. I was warned of this. They’ve been looking for an excuse since day one. And it’s not like they sent out a mass text message letting all the light Nephilim know not to kill me.

Zaida hesitated. No, they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Turning to her side, she propped her feet onto the chair rungs and leaned against the bars. Demons can’t be redeemed. After you took down Mephisto, there was still doubt. You could have easily been a double agent.

Because even Lucifer wanted Mephisto stopped, Raven interjected.

He did. She peered down the hall a moment to make sure they were still alone. What you did, going to Devil’s Night was stupid. It does you no favor in disproving that you were working with the Afflicted or joining them. The light Nephilim was curious though. What was it like?

What? Raven replied as she readjusted herself on the bed so that her back was leaning against the wall.

Devil’s Night. What did you see?

Raven chuckled. Curious about what the other side does at a party? She didn’t speak of it, but she wondered to herself if part of the question was rooted in doubt. Even though they had become friends, she hadn’t forgotten that at first Zaida thought she’d turn on everyone. It was just that, a giant party. There were bands, food, people talking. She fell silent a moment. There was a Black Mass. I didn’t participate in that.

But you were still there in the morning, they saw you by the tents and altar. Zaida looked at Raven more directly.

It wasn’t a lie. Raven didn’t participate in the Black Mass after Damien pointedly made sure she was there to do so. What had actually happened then ran through her mind. The way he moved, the enthralling sound of his voice, his fingertips brushing against her skin almost intoxicatingly and the way he held her after. She wouldn’t lie to herself. It was a night she’d thought about often enough during her imprisonment that she may have committed a new form of sin. Thinking about having sex with the Devil’s son while being held underneath a sacred holy city.

There wasn’t a chance to address the subject Zaida was broaching. As Raven pushed forward to get out of the bed, there was movement in the hallway. Aiden, two guards, and a woman were making their way to the cell. Zaida stood and backed away in anticipation that Raven’s guardian would probably want full access. Aiden came to a stop. He looked at Zaida first, nodding in silent greeting. In turn, she offered him no words, only a simple nod of recognition. Hesitantly, he looked over at his charge. There were signs of both relief and worry on his face as he lifted a familiar object--an envelope from Eden, more directly from the Oracle.

Does this mean I’m free to go? Raven questioned.

Not exactly. Aiden proceeded to explain. The trial will proceed. I’ll stay here and continue to advocate for dismissal of all charges. You’ll take care of this and then return here. He lifted the envelope as he made mention of it and held it out to Raven through the bars. As she took it from him, he gently motioned to the woman next to him. This is Justine, your newly appointed second guardian. He allowed that to sink in for a moment.

Raven held her hand out to take the envelope but was careful not to extend her hands out past the bars. One of the first things she learned when they put her there was that doing so meant getting zapped with a decent dose of holy energy. Not enough to kill, but enough to make one think twice about reaching for anything. No. Raven looked at Justine, giving her a once over. An obvious Grigori, her ears were pointed like Aiden’s. Her chestnut hair fell to her shoulders in thick, bouncy curls. Her skin held a light touch of a tan that complimented her amber eyes. The woman wore an embossed antique white pleated dress paired with brown leggings, jacket, and boots. She had a messenger style bag, the strap of which ran over her chest. I don’t need a second guardian. It’s insulting. You can’t just replace Owen.

Zaida looked at Aiden. It’s too soon.

It might be. Justine stepped closer and glanced around at the three of them before she looked at Raven. This is how it is. If you’re going to remain active, you must have two guardians. She looked over at Aiden. Both of whom should be present at all times. There was already tension rippling between the two. None of this splitting up that we’re about to do.

Aiden glared at Justine. Too soon. He echoed the sentiment of the half-humans who were present. But it was bound to happen. He looked back at his charge symmetrically. He reached through the bars and placed his hand on Raven’s shoulder comfortingly and gave her a look that told her she shouldn’t make a fuss and to go with it.

Whatever, Raven mumbled as she opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment paper within. Feeling Aiden’s hand slip away, she ignored whatever hushed whispering was going on between him and Justine. These ‘assignments’, as they were, came in different forms. The first one she ever got was clear and to the point, to stop Mephisto from breaking through the veil into the world of man. A clear objective. Sometimes, like the one she was looking at now, the message was vague. But the Oracle always knew who to tap for the job. Prembrook Castle. She read the location from the parchment. That’s it, nothing else. No warnings, details or helpful information. Just a location.

On it. Zaida pulled out her cell phone and started a search. North of Abergavenny, in the UK.

Justine eyed her new charge. Let her out. She looked at the guard before turning away from everyone and heading down the hall. I’ll call ahead to the airport.

She’ll call ahead, Raven repeated, lightly mocking the woman as she did. Does this mean we’re getting back on the fancy jet with no in-flight movie? she questioned, then stepped back as the guard approached the door and unlocked it. He eyed her cautiously, unsure about releasing her, but orders were orders.

It seems so. Aiden opened the cell door but stood between Raven and the limited freedom she’d been given. She wanted to put the belt back on you to control you during any downtime. I’ve convinced her not to, but you need to be careful what you do around her. Do you understand?

I do. Raven nodded. I’ll be careful.

Aiden stepped aside, allowing her to exit the cell. She wouldn’t be allowed to wander around though. The guards assisted Zaida and Aiden in escorting Raven out. They walked through the halls, up to the surface and straight into a van. The ride was a bit more pleasant this time, and since they weren’t sneaking around in the middle of the night, she got a good look at Vatican City. The plane trip was a long awkward two hour and forty-five-minute endeavor filled with Justine watching Raven as if she thought Raven might try something.

Upon landing, they stopped at a little café to grab a bite to eat before renting a car and heading off. The air in Wales’ countryside felt fresher. It could have been the same as the countryside air back in the United States but, because she wasn’t in a drafty dungeon, it felt that way. Lush green rolling hills, fields dotted with sheep and trees alongside the roads for a lengthy distance ushered in a ticker landscape of trees as they turned down a little path that took them off into a sprawling field. As Justine put the car in park, both Raven and Zaida looked down at the map on the phone then up at Prembrook Castle.

Castles like these were here and there throughout the old world. Each one were massive stone architectural masterpieces with battlements, towers, courtyards, and expansive keeps that had stayed intact for hundreds of years. These historical locations no longer house royalty or serve as defense points. Now they serve as tourist attractions or have been converted into hotels or high-end resorts. Unfortunately, Prembrook Castle didn’t share this fate. While the remains did have tours, there was nothing to explore. No long drafty halls of stone to wander down or period themed suites to rent for the night. Located in the middle of an open field were the crumbled remains of the battlements and gatehouse. The hollowed out partial shell of what was once a forty-room castle stood out amongst the ruins.

How disappointing. Raven gripped the handle of the car door. I thought we’d get to run around inside an actual castle that wasn’t built in the center of a theme park. Opening the door, she got out of the car and headed toward the gatehouse.

Raven, not too far. Stay where I can see you! Justine called after her.

Turning on her heels and walking backward several steps, she called back to the woman. Seriously? Raven questioned, turning her back to the car as she continued toward the castle ruins.

Zaid started after Raven, but hesitantly stopped next to Justine. She’s not a flight risk, she pointed out to the guardian.

I don’t know that, Justine started. The possibility of her running isn’t the only thing I need to watch for. When the Afflicted heard there was a Dark Nephilim of the shadows, they exposed themselves and gambled with their very existence for a chance at claiming her. Imagine what could have happened if they got what they wanted. She paused, looking at the light Nephilim beside her. It would be foolish to think there isn’t someone or something else out there that has gotten wind of her and has asked themselves how they might convince or force her to do as they want? The woman let a few seconds pass between them, allowing that notion to settle. Let’s also not forget that she has a bounty on her head.

You’re right. Zaida looked back up in the direction of the ruins. While she still wasn’t thrilled with the situation, at least it appeared the Grigori took all aspects of the danger in Raven’s life seriously. Justine looked up as well, seeing Raven had moved out of sight. Without a word, she began to stride ahead. Stepping over a low point in the battlements that were barely a foot tall, the two walked into the courtyard. They didn’t need to go too far before they found where Raven had wandered off to.

Raven was inside the shell of the old castle looking along the stone outlines of the old foundation which was covered by dirt, grass, and rubble. I wish we had a better idea of what we’re looking for. She voiced her light frustration when she heard the two approaching from behind. I don’t suppose you know the typical layout of these things? she questioned, looking at Justine. It made sense to her. The Grigori reside in Eden, which is pleasantly stuck in the castle era.

Kitchens are likely toward the back, Justine offered, looking up and motioning at what would have been the third floor that stuck out along the corner of the wall. Most of the living quarters are gone.

Listening, Raven started to walk within the ruins, pointing at a broader outline of an area. A meeting hall?

Or dinner hall, Justine offered as she glanced at Zaida, following along. The situation presented an opportunity to see how her new charge worked. As such, she made sure to keep the young woman in sight and paid close attention to her thought process.

Couldn’t something that size serve as both? Raven asked as she glanced back at the two. The outlines of where walls once stood started to disappear under dirt and grass as she wandered further back through the castle’s remains. There wasn’t much to see. Up ahead the remnants of a wall stood, nearly full height and surrounded by a few wild bushes. Approaching it, she spotted a partial footprint in the dirt. She turned just enough to look behind herself at Zaida and Justine.

Do you smell something? Justine asked.

Smell something? Zaida looked at the Grigori in confusion over her choice of words. She’s not a dog.

Maybe smell was the wrong word to use. Sense? See? Justine shrugged lightly.

No? Raven answered as she moved around the other side of the wall, disappearing behind it. She didn’t smell or sense anything, but she did find something. An opening in the ground, with worn stone stairs descending into a pit of darkness. Next to it was a large stone slab resting on the ground. At the end of some grooves was a smoothed-out path in the dirt, evidence that the two-foot-thick stone had been moved from covering the opening. Or something, she whispered, thinking out loud. There was no way to get any mechanical equipment in there that would be large enough to pull the stone aside. It was definitely too heavy for a person to push.

Zaida and Justine came around from the other side of the wall. Is that recently moved? Zaida asked, getting closer.

Yeah. Raven nodded, peering down into the hole and eyeing the stone steps sunken into the dirt. You have your stones?

I do. Zaida pulled her three small holy stones from her pocket. Each tumbled white stone was no more than half an inch in diameter. She held them out over the tunnel’s opening and let them go. The stones stopped short of hitting the ground and hovered there a moment. They then ignited with holy energy to light the way. Who’s going first? Zaida looked at Raven.

You have control over the light, you first, she offered.

It’s your mission. Zaida reminded.

I’ll go f— Justine started to suggest she should go first. To her, it that made sense; after all, a guardian is supposed to protect and guide. Going first would protect the two from unknown danger while guiding them down the tunnel. But Raven had another solution to the problem--rock, paper, scissors. She held her left hand out flat and pointedly set her fist onto her palm hard enough that it made a slapping sound. Zaida smirked and did the same.

1…2…3...shoot! Scissors cuts paper, Raven loses.

1…2…3...shoot! Paper covers rock, Zaida loses.

1…2…3...shoot! Rock smashes scissors, Zaida wins.

Justine stared in disbelief. Did they seriously play a child’s game to decide? Without complaint, Raven spread all her fingers out straight and flicked them off to the side as if tossing the imaginary broken scissors away. She then started down the stairs, allowing the illuminated stones to move ahead of her and light the path. Bits of dirt and tiny crumbles of rocks rolled down the steps as they were disturbed for the second time that day. Footprints in the dirt came from boots, they noticed, several sets of them by the look of the overlapping impressions. With the footprints only leading down and none leading back up, it meant whoever moved the stone slab was still down wherever the stairs were leading them. Or maybe they found another way out — either possibility was something they needed to keep in mind.

A second source of light joined that of the holy stones. At the bottom of the stairs, there was an emergency lighting glow stick on the ground. We need more light. Raven pointed out and glanced up the stairs in her friend’s direction. Zaida lifted her hands; her motions could vaguely be seen before the holy stones brightened even more and filled a wider radius with light. Being that close to the holy energy made Raven uncomfortable, but she’d be ok. She’d only get burned if she touched the stones directly. Carefully, the three of them pressed on, glancing at the iron cells lining the walls as they passed