The Dead Sexy Highlander

Chapter 11: Wolf's Glen

I awoke in the canopied bed in Wolf's Glen Manor, the pendulous rain falling like a ball gown across the thatched roof. Dawn – so early, twas simply a blush on Eos's gay face – peeked still through the sill.

Samael looked at me bemusedly, smiling in pride.

"So, you found your own way into Briah, past Abaddon and Dumah alike," he teased.

I blushed, hiding my face in the pillows. "You are not ashamed of me, are you?"

Samael belted a laugh. "Far from it, my Annis. In fact, I am rather proud. My girl is cunning, conniving – and has charmed the closest brother I have, my own dear twin Michael. You are well worth a Nephilim indeed."

I blushed. "I – I did not understand all that you said, but I have a passing familiarity with Jewish scripture and apocrypha. The Book of Enoch, is it? The man whose Kiss of Life you gave so that he could ascend to be Metatron. Enoch lived in the time of the Watcher angels taking women as brides, and their beastly Nephilim children that ate man, cattle, and crop..."

Samael winced. "Our child would be nothing like that. Nephilim conceived in lust are monsters. Nephilim conceived in love are perfection incarnate, given the sensitivities of mortals, and adamant strength of spirits. Yeshua was one. Not God, but half mortal, half of Gabriel. As for the fruit of our union..." he tucked a strand of white-blonde hair behind my ear. "I would not be surprised if David himself sprung from your womb."

"More like Samson," I joked, pecking him on the cheek. "Phew, so I did not upset you."

"You could never upset me, Abigail MacKay. Surprise me, yes – but the upsetting is left for your rambunctious soul. Dear Adonai, does she misbehave, going gambling in Shedim dens, getting boyfriends and girlfriends of Lilin and Seirim alike."

I flinched. "My soul is a strumpet!"

He winked. "All seventeen-year-olds are. There is not a handsome man or fair woman she does not fancy. Those souls touched by death behave in a much more libertine fashions than their own flesh and body. Think on it – you have had twelve years to mature. But part of you is stuck with immense power – that of a junior Reaper – and all the time in the world. Playing craps in Asmodeus' dens of iniquity is bound to happen to any curious lass-

"You let her gamble? Samael, we must discuss how you are raising my soul, much less how you will discipline our children!"

He flinched. "With... candy?"

I rolled over, laughing hard at the absurdity of him giving my soul the lollipop she had been sucking on. "Dear heavens, no! A stern hand is best with teenagers and young Nephilim alike!"

I beat the mattress, laughing. He scooped me up into his arms and tickled me.

"How about like this?" he teased as he tickled my collarbone.

"Mercy, cruel beast – hahahahha!" I laughed, tickling him back. We poked, caressed, and prodded each other, until he had pinned me. Suddenly, a great blush stumbled across Samael's pale olive cheeks as he found himself atop me.

I gazed into his kaleidoscopic blue eyes – so much like the sea! I bit my lower lip, nervous.

"You wanted... tea," he muttered as an afterthought, stroking my throat.

"I... you taste better than any black tea," I hiccupped. I hiccupped when nervous – blast it! Only Lleuwa had ever elicited hiccups in me before, both her and Samael full of frightful majesty.

"Tea can wait," Samael buzzed like a hive of jeweled honey. He leaned in, brushing his lips full flush against mine. I gaped, our tongues sparring as I sucked the zuhama black cobra poison of his lips that served as an aphrodisiac. This was halfway 'tween death, halfway 'tween life – full him.