The Nephilim Strain

By E.M. Allen

In the riveting sequel to The Hellfire Brats, The Nephilim Strain plunges readers back into a world teeming with supernatural intrigue and danger. When a gruesome murder in St. Louis points to the work of a bloodthirsty vampire, Celestial Knights Eliza Alcius and Amelia Petrochilos are quick to join the hunt, determined to stop the killer before they strike again.

Meanwhile, Nightwatch Agents Donald "Dodger" Rogers and Oliver Turner continue Oliver's training, as he struggles to gain control over his nephilim transformation. Joined by friends Brittany Rembrandt and Rachel Rune, they soon find themselves entwined in the unfolding mystery.

As Oliver encounters Vincent Dakane and Morgan Ravencroft—two nephilim who narrowly escaped the clutches of the sinister vampire Corlarva—things take a personal turn. Nightwatch and The Celestial Order must join forces to prevent Corlarva from abducting Oliver and the other nephilim, all in pursuit of the enigmatic Nephilim Strain.

The Nephilim Strain masterfully weaves a tale of supernatural suspense, as ancient powers and modern heroes clash in a race against time. Delve into this thrilling adventure and witness the breathtaking battle between good and evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350902426

E.M. Allen

E.M. Allen is a writer, Youtuber, media commentator and humble blue-collar worker from St. Louis, Missouri. He runs the mediaocrity4 YouTube channel where he talks about cartoons and comics.

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© E.M. Allen.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 979-8-35090-241-9 (paperback)

ISBN: 979-8-35090-242-6 (eBook)

Contents

Forward

Prologue

The Corpse

Oliver at the Gym

Eliza Takes the Case

Brittany’s Folly

The Strange Case of Rachel Rune

The Rune of House Rembrandt

Rachel’s Requiem

A Raven Escapes its Cage

The Skinwalker

The Watered Corpse

Gameplan

Rachel and the Search for Normalcy

Skinwalker on the Prowl

A Surge of Scarlet

Amelia and Eliza

The Eye of Mortis

The Shark and The Doctor

Eliza’s Lament

Akaneko the Crescent Moon Huntress

Grimm Warning

The Truth of Sulfix

The Blood Feud

Battle of Blood

Rachel’s Reckoning

Dodger Does Some Digging

The Blood of Rachel Rune

A Name to a Face

The Noose of Nightwatch

The Fishing Line

The Raid Begins

Operation Rescue Oliver

The Surgeon and the Seamster

Crimson’s Transformation

Dried Blood

The New Agents

The Lies of Eliza Alcius

Epilogue

Appendix

Dedicated to my sister Kayla.

Your perseverance has always been an inspiration.

Forward

Greetings readers and welcome to the second installment of The Agents of Nightwatch series! I just wanted to share a few words with you before you read this thrilling adventure. First off, while your experience will certainly be enriched by reading The Hellfire Brats first, it is not mandatory. This book will recap and review any important information as it becomes relevant just in case you haven’t read or don’t remember what happened in the prior book. This will continue for as long as The Agents of Nightwatch persists.

Now for the more important stuff. When I published The Hellfire Brats I did not put any kind of disclaimer or content warning. I wanted any parallel or reference to real-world events to be a surprise for readers. This series is fantasy. It may be grounded, realistic or whatever other buzzword urban fantasy scholars like to use but it is and always will be a work conjured from my imagination and merely informed by my views on certain real-world issues.

This book deals with much heavier subject matter than The Hellfire Brats. Sex, drugs and violence are persistent topics in this book. The cast has not gotten any older. There may not be any explicit sex scene but it is a topic discussed at various points by the very much still underaged characters. This was done primarily for authenticity. Teenagers have sex. Teenagers do drugs. And as a thirty-year-old man who has never done either I can provide a unique outsider perspective on this.

There is also one…shall we say…controversial thing in this book I want to leave as a surprise. Just know that just as The Hellfire Brats boiled down to good and bad demorans fighting each other, the entire series as I envision it can be summed up as thus: race, gender, sexuality, nationality, religious beliefs etc. do not matter. What matters is what you do and why.

Prologue

Panting, wheezing, lungs that felt like iron and legs that felt like acid. She wanted to escape. She needed to escape. She didn’t know how long she had been running. She didn’t have the courage to look back.

The city was strange and full of festive lights. She didn’t know how long it had been since she left home and found her way to Baltimore. She had been moved around a few times since then. All she knew was that she must still be in America. That being the case, she needed to locate a member of The Celestial Order as quickly as possible. She knew well enough that they were the only hope she had. She had grown up with stories of how terrifying their knights and crusaders could be to her kind but she didn’t care. Anything was better than the hell she had been subjected to ever since she ran away from home.

She pushed her way through the bustling streets. She had hoped that the crowds of the city would dilute her scent but doing so attracted unwanted levels of attention. It wasn’t everyday that people would see a sixteen-year-old girl with marks on her arms and legs, wearing tattered summer clothes in the early winter. She could feel every single person’s gaze. All of their thoughts echoed in deafening pandemonium within her head.

The countless inaudible thoughts quieted when she ran into a man in blue. She saw his badge and surmised that he was a police officer. That was better than nothing. Perhaps this man could lead her to salvation.

What’s the problem, miss? He asked.

You have to take me to The Celestial Order! She snapped. In the back of her mind she could see how little time, how little hope she had left.

Look kid, you seem to be in some serious trouble but I can’t just call the arch knight out of the blue. He sighed and pulled her into the nearby alley. There’s a hospital nearby. We’ll get you patched up and see what we can do.

We don’t have time! The desperate girl fought against his grip. Her heart thumped with the power of an earthquake. Her mouth opened to voice a warning but her throat had dried. No other noise escaped from her lips. She tried screaming, crying, shouting for someone to help. But like her warning it was little more than the whimper of a mouse.

A wave of red dashed through the alley. The officer’s grip slipped and the girl fell to the ground. The voices in her head were muted, blocked by the psychic prowess of the one who had pursued her. He stood there, clad in black with his head covered in a mask that looked like a pulsating human heart.

The officer laid limp at the villain’s boots. His severed head bore a twisted expression of agony as his wretched murderer repeatedly tossed it into the air. It made a soft squelching sound every time it landed in the killer’s palm. The man in the heart mask snickered as the officer’s corpse was liquified. All the juices swirled around and were sucked into the largest of the mask’s valves.

Now, now, Morgan, you should know better than to run from me. He said. The girl in question was crying and writhing in the agony of dreadful failure yet he didn’t once relinquish the stranglehold he had on her voicebox. Come now, we have quite the trip ahead of us. My business in Chicago is done and now we move onto St. Louis. He grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her up. I have reason to believe I found another like you, another nephilim.

Chapter 1

The Corpse

The year had begun with a murder. The shriveled corpse had been found at a metrolink station near the pulsating heart of St. Louis. The grizzly, gaunt figure of the victim could only mean one thing—he had been slain by a vampire that New Year’s Eve. It had been nearly five years since one of those ghastly mages who satiate themselves on human vitality had been seen in the Gateway City. It was not nearly long enough.

Special Agent Johnathan Claymore had hoped his promotion to police liaison would mark a return to normalcy. Just a month earlier he had been a humble police captain investigating a handful of arsons. Then, practically overnight, he found himself indebted to, and in service of, The Celestial Order. His nomination at the behest of Arch Knight Eliza Alcius had been followed by a week of non-stop questioning and training. This was his first full day as the mage’s pipeline to local law enforcement and he was already having to bear witness to the most ghastly sight he had ever seen.

No amount of coffee could have woken him up faster than the wretched stench of death that permeated from this spot. There was no consolation, not even when one of his benefactors arrived on the scene. Basal Knight Amelia Petrochilos was no older than the teenage girl who had exposed Johnathan Claymore to the wider world of magic he was now forced to inhabit. Her tall muscular build was quite typical of her Amazon heritage. This was only the third time Johnathan Claymore had the privilege of meeting this particular knight and it was the first time he had seen her in casual clothes.

Special Agent Johnathan Claymore. She greeted. The officer in question was nine years her senior and yet he was the one who felt out of his depth. How’s the new job treating you?

It doesn’t feel right. He admitted. I became a cop to help keep Shadowbrooke safe and become the kind of officer kids can trust. I never thought I’d be roped into this sort of thing.

You know you didn’t have to accept Eliza’s offer. Amelia said.

It was the right thing to do. Speaking of which, where is she?

She’s still dealing with the inquisition over what happened with your predecessor.

Still? Jonathan Claymore shook his head in frustration. Strange that they apparently trust me more than her.

She’s the one who broke the rules. Amelia said. Also, back when we were kids she said some stuff that the inquisition took a lot of offense to.

Doesn’t surprise me. Jonathan Claymore took a deep breath followed by another soothing sip of coffee. Detectives here say the killer is a vampire. Shows all the right signs. Apparently you dealt with this thing before.

No. Amelia’s usually warm demeanor took a colder tone. Jonathan Claymore thought nothing of her furrowing face. He just assumed this is what it was like when Amelia got serious. Only those who knew her before she was knighted would know that this dim glow in her eye was reserved for an especially heinous criminal. For though Amelia Petrochilos had dedicated her being to protecting people from all manner of monsters, she despised vampires above all else.

Right, right. I guess the last vampire who came through here would have been shortly before you were assigned to protect St. Louis.

It was that vampire that killed the previous knighted pair of St. Louis. Amelia said as she moved past the officer to examine the body herself.

When she saw how much was left of the corpse she breathed a sigh of relief. She then wrapped her scarf tightly around her face so as to not breathe in the stench. She poked and prodded at the corpse trying to determine how the victim’s blood was drained. The manner in which the essence of life is ripped away from the meal was almost like a fingerprint for the vampire. Each clan that clung to gory nights had their own feeding habits and learning those habits would help clarify where this vampire was from, what he may look like and how dangerous he may be.

Amelia Petrochilos was well versed in vampirism. Technically speaking, a vampire was any creature or mage that sustained themselves on blood. Some vampiric creatures didn’t even need to kill to drink enough blood to quench their thirst. A mage who indulged in the blood of others would gain immense power after every feast but would slowly be driven mad with bloodlust. Their skin would become sensitive to light. They would become receptacles for all manner of disease. Worse yet, they would need more and more blood to survive and would go to increasingly gruesome lengths to get it.

There were no clear incision marks on this corpse. His skin was like dried clay cracked from age. His eyes were sunken, his tongue shriveled, and his gums stained with dried blood. There was no definition in his muscles. His left arm had been broken and bruised. Most telling of all was that there was no evidence of a struggle and no blood splatter.

Whoever did this is a very clean eater. Amelia said. I won’t know for sure until the autopsy but I’m willing to bet his arm was broken by a vice grip and his organs are just as shriveled as his skin.

Any ideas? Jonathan Claymore asked.

This feeding technique is a favorite among demoran aristocracy. Particularly those who once resided near the border of Imperium and Nox. The New Orleans rift leads right to that area. Amelia said. Her features had gotten more dour. This matched descriptions she had seen too many times before when she was still a helpless child in the academy. They use magic to liquify the organs and rupture blood vessels and then force all the liquid out through the victim’s mouth. The broken arm was to hold him in place while the vampire drank him like a juice box.

How lovely. Jonathan Claymore said.

Nothing has been detected coming through our rifts since that situation with The Hellfire Brats. So, this guy has probably been in our world for a while; which means this isn’t his first victim. We’ll have to put in a file request from the inquisition. Once we have times and places, it’ll be your job to get the actual police reports.

Yes ma’am. The officer said.

Amelia stood up and sanitized her arms. She left the officers on duty to do their job. This was undoubtedly a magic-based crime and as such there was only so much the police could do. When it came time to bring the killer in, it would be up to her and Eliza to deal out justice. Yet Amelia knew that they would not be alone. She suspected that it was only a matter of time before a certain pair of boys caught wind of this stench and would stick their noses in it. Unbeknownst to the Amazon, their eagerness to investigate would not be the only factor pulling them into the crosshairs of this murderer.

Chapter 2

Oliver at the Gym

Fifteen-year-old Oliver Turner had only been training as a mage for five months. The fruits of his labor had yet to ripen but the signs of a fit body were starting to manifest. He had read online that there were three ways for a mage to train and that each method corresponded with one of the tria-ethos. The logic behind this seemed sound.

The tria-ethos: sensus, corporis and animus, the three types of augmentation that marked the progress of a mage. The methods of training included rigorous academic study, physical workouts and spiritual reflection. Know oneself, know the world and become strong.

Dodger knew better than to draw causation where there was correlation. All three actions did make mages stronger but it did not necessarily correspond with the tria-ethos. Oliver himself was living proof. His first few months were spent almost entirely on physical training and breaking the mental boundaries between him and his ability to do magic. Yet, his animus—that which allegedly corresponded to spiritual reflection—was the first of the tria-ethos to manifest. And it did so without him even knowing what he really was.

Nephilim. That word still felt like pop rocks on his tongue. His curiosity had led him down numerous rabbit holes all of which became increasingly bizarre and conspiratorial. He decided to heed his boss’s advice and take things slowly. What is a nephilim? Well, it’s what he was and so that was a question he would have to figure out himself.

That’s what brought him to the gym. He was not with Dodger. Instead, he was with the sisters Rachel Rune and Brittany Rembrandt. Both girls had a history of athletics and had volunteered their time to help Oliver train his body. Above all else, Oliver needed his corporis.

He had nearly died at the hands of Sebastian Crane due to his lack of that physical defense. He also had to fear that nephilim form. He had been warned that transforming again without a corporis could shorten his life and doing so a third time could claim it. Corporis was the aspect of the physical body. It’s what protected mages from all manner of magic, resisted the power of others, and allowed them to transform without causing permanent damage.

See something you like? Rachel teased. Both she and her older sister were wearing sports clothes that exposed their midriffs. Rachel was in the same class as Oliver. Brittany was two years older. Rachel had short dark hair with doe-brown eyes while Brittany had a mess of long blonde locks and soft blue eyes. The two athletes stood side by side, looking down on Oliver as he sat on a bench, fighting back the blush in his cheeks.

Eyes are up here buddy. Brittany diverted his attention away from Rachel and onto herself. I told Dodger I’d help you get into fighting shape but you’re a lost cause if you gawk and freeze anytime there’s a cute athletic girl around.

I’m not gawking. Oliver denied the accusation and rose to his feet. It’s just that your skin looks a little red Rachel.

Oh. Rachel looked at her arm and stomach. Sure enough there was an irritable redness to her usually pale complexion that had gone unnoticed.

Brittany and Oliver strapped on boxing gloves and entered the sparring ring. The older girl had been interested in martial arts ever since she was a kid. Boxing was her personal favorite and she had even won a few competitions in her day.

Try not to hurt him. Rachel said as she stood in Oliver’s corner.

I’m wearing thick gloves for a reason. Brittany demonstrated her point by knocking the gloves against each other with a soft whoomph sound.

I’ll be fine Rachel. She’s only a little bigger than me, I’m pretty sure I can take her anyway.

Boy, do not underestimate me. Brittany warned.

Oliver, she might not be as good as Dodger but she can do some magic. Rachel said. She’s got the skills required to be a knight.

Then why isn’t she? Oliver asked.

I have my reasons. Brittany said. Land a blow on me and I might tell you.

Deal! Oliver said. Fair warning though, I don’t have the best grasp on my power. I might end up hurting you.

Cockiness doesn’t suit you. Rachel sighed.

The two blondes sized each other up. Brittany was five-foot-eight-inches making her two inches taller than Oliver. More importantly, she was almost all muscle while Oliver was still somewhat scraggly.

Your footwork isn’t bad. Brittany complimented. At least Dodger taught you how to throw a proper punch.

It’s all about leverage right? Oliver said.

With a confident smirk he threw the first punch. His jab whiffed right past her head and the next thing he knew he was seeing stars. The blow rang in his ears as his legs loosened. His body hit the mat with a muffled thud. He thought he had gotten tougher after his ordeals but alas, Brittany hit as hard as anything Oliver had gone up against.

You have no idea. Brittany said as she put her hands on her hips and loomed over him. This isn’t a fight, it’s a beat down. Until you can manifest your corporis you’re going to be in a lot of pain.

That wasn’t too bad. Oliver said as he got back to his feet.

Thank the gloves. Had I really hit you, you’d be out the rest of the night. Brittany taunted.

Right. You have a corporis. Tell me, is there anyone else at our school who’s secretly a mage? Oliver’s question was followed by a series of body blows.

Ten percent of the population has the potential so there’s bound to be a few even I don’t know about. As for ones to worry about, there’s only Eliza, Amelia and Dodger. Rachel and I aren’t much compared to them.

She beat Oliver like a drum while he mulled over that statistical fact. When she finally relented, Oliver looked at Rachel in disbelief. The weight of what she said finally registered when his ears stopped ringing. Rachel was the first person he had met upon arriving in Shadowbrooke at the end of the past summer. He had spent almost as much time with her as he had Dodger yet he had never heard anything about her being a mage.

Brittany. Rachel grumbled.

When were you going to tell me? Oliver asked.

I’ve only dabbled! Rachel defended her lack of transparency. I already told you I have no interest in fighting. I want to be a doctor. Having some knowledge of magic helps with that.

Don’t think anything of it. Brittany said. There’s a lot you don’t know and none of us are obligated to tell you our life story.