Nocturnal

I spent a whole day in bed just tossing and curling up. I didn't eat, barely drank, no TV, music—nothing distracted me. Phillip didn't push and I silently thanked him for it. Cameron hadn't come home, yet. The doctors wanted to keep Henry another night for observation, according to Cam, he inhaled smoke, had a few scratches—he'd be fine.

V had been at the hospital to use compulsion on the doctors, otherwise they wouldn't have let Cameron stay. I thought about calling her, it had to be hard for a Vampire to be surrounded by so much blood—but I couldn't bring myself to move or talk. The last time I'd walked around was to take a shower—in one of their guest rooms—change out of my dress and into some very large clothes from Phillip.

When Cameron did come home, Henry came with him and he'd latched himself at me—he cried, I held him—glad he didn't ask questions I couldn't begin to answer. Henry drifted off after he'd calmed down, after we'd been talking—reminiscing about mom and Nigel. I tried to stomp my grief for his sake, bringing up funny moments, facts—all so his heart wouldn't be so heavy.

Henry's grandparents—Nigel's parents—had arrived the day after the whole ordeal, after the authorities contacted them. They were taking care of everything... of the funeral arrangements and all the bureaucracies you had to go through.

Three days had gone by. I woke up with Henry snuggled into my side, face flushed, brown hair messed up. It brought quietude into my heart and mind. I was so grateful that at least he wasn't... gone. Kissing his hair, I slipped from bed, tucking the feather-duvet and silk sheets around him.

It was midday, the windows weren't filtering much sunlight. The weather outside was becoming increasingly winter-like. The mansion didn't feel so humid like all the other times, I saw why when I reached downstairs.

The fireplace was crackling, alive.

Sucking in a deep breath at the sight of fire, I spun, heading for the kitchen—still wearing Phill's clothes. Standing at the entrance, I understood why I'd felt an appeal to come down. It wasn't for food, even if my stomach was starting to protest.

"Hi," I greeted huskily, clearing my throat right after.

Cameron stood before me with unruly nocturne hair, a navy T-shirt and jeans. My lungs filled twice so the air would reach every tiny part of my body. His dusk gaze refused to leave mine as he braced against the kitchen island.

I hadn't been with him since the night of the fire. I'd seen him fleetingly when Henry ran from his side to me—my main focus had been my brother. Now, Henry was safe and we were here. Alone.

"Hi," he copied. "Finally going to eat something?" Obviously, Phillip had given him a report on what happened.

I drew my arms together self-conscious. I wasn't wearing any underwear—at all. This was like a bachelor pad, so, no lady-clothes. Cameron chose not to notice my slight discomfort, taking a step to me.

"You need to eat." He stated in a monotone.

I knotted my fingers nervous. Why was he acting so distant? Had something happened? Or was he tired? With Cameron who knew.

"I'll eat Oreos if you eat them with me." I challenged. Cameron arched a dark brow. "The choice's yours, either eat Oreos with me or watch me starve."

"I could always force-feed you." The shimmers of a smirk hung nearby. He walked around the kitchen at total ease with his body—it was impressive. "Milk?"

"Yes, please." I leaned on the threshold nipping my lip as he bent over, reaching for the carton—

"Are you watching my ass, Rapunzel?" blushing, I pulled myself from swooning-mode and became stern. "Don't try to deny it. I can feel your eyes all over me. Honestly, I'm starting to feel like a piece of meat." He pouted.

Oh, no. He couldn't pout. That pout... did things to me, in lady-places.

"I seriously doubt you have a problem with women ogling your body." I scoffed as he approached with a glass of milk and a whole box of sugary goodness. "Where's Phillip?"

"School—" Oh shoot. School—I'd forgotten all about that! "Relax, tomorrow's the last day. You're not missing anything vital. He needed to go because our History teacher's giving him a homework he has to turn in tomorrow—to lift his grade." Cameron shook his head, making it seem like Phill was an errant child who never did as told. "I wouldn't expect him anytime soon. He called saying something about the library or something."

We sat on the leather couch, where just weeks ago he'd checked my Demon wound. My eyes strove from the orange flickering from the hearth of burning wood. It made me warm, but shifty.

"I can put it out." How did he read me so well?

"No, it's warm... I'm okay." As long as he was near, I wasn't lying. "Henry's grandparents are coming here today. I gave them the address—is that alright?"

"Sure," there was the sound of plastic opening.

He held the packet to me, I took one, he took another. I wetted mine before taking a bite. The creamy inside melted easy as sugar, the chocolate swirled my tongue and my stomach started working its digesting juices—it'd been on standby for such a long time.

Cameron was silent beside me, eating like he wasn't hungry. Maybe he wasn't—I'd had to find a way for him to hang around.

I frowned, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"School's for uneducated people. I'm smarter than the average population."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you just called your brother an ignorant." My head rested on the leather. He licked his lips showing a deviant smile. "Oh, you are so full of yourself, Leale."

"I can be." Cam shrugged sliding closer, our hips touched. "I wasn't going to leave you and Henry alone. All my grades are good, Phillip needs extra credit—it seemed like the logical thing to do."

"Logical, eh?" Cameron's arm spread over the backrest. My skin craved his, the touch, feel—proximity. And maybe it was the lack of food, or I simply didn't feel like fighting...

Whatever it was, my hands reached up, cupping his face. "Thank you," I whispered suddenly. "For everything—not just... just for that night, for going with Henry—it's for everything. For saving me, for helping, for the necklace..." my thumbs ran over the prickly layer of stubble. As I gave him a few more minutes, I saw his face yielding—dropping its remaining icy-guard.

Cam leaned forward, strands of black hair grazed my forehead—I tightened my hold on his face, breath catching and...

"Nina...?" a small voice called, not too far away.

Holy crapola. Of all the times to wake up...

Cameron reopened his eyes, sighing heavily, meeting my thwarted expression. My hands fell on his broad shoulders. Amusement lurked those deep irises; he lifted a hand between us, tracing the outline of my lower lip.

Lord, the gesture set off fireworks.

"Hey, Henry, what's up?" I tried mumbling sweetly, not like he'd just ruined a monumental scene.

Henry was wearing clothes his age; Cameron had bought them—if the circumstances were different I would've smiled and cooed. It was so un-Cameron-like.

My brother finished rubbing his eyes, and looked at us weirdly. "Were you making out? Gross!"

"No. We weren't doing anything—" Thanks to you, a little, bitter voice chided. I schooled it. This wasn't time to be thinking of myself and my teen-girl-hormones. "We were talking... and eating."

Cam effectively pulled away leaving me to cringe on the inside. Sacrificing a minute with him felt like a punishable crime.

Henry launched to our middle, squirming to find a good position. He had his eyes on the Oreos, the little rascal. But I loved and cherished him very much. Drawing my arms around my little brother, I lowered my chin onto his curly head.

"Oreos aren't breakfast, you know." Cameron gave me a mock-disbelieving glare. "Did you have a bad dream?" my tone hushed.

Henry gobbled one more cookie, then shook his head. Green eyes met mine softly as he leaned into my embrace.

"I woke up and you were gone," he made a saddened face. "I came looking." And he was hungry.

As Henry finished his second package, I put down my foot. Enough was enough; he'd get a stomach ache if he kept up. Cameron popped a DVD of Henry's choice and let him watch it. He stayed in our middle until the animated movie crawled to a finish.

Later into the afternoon, Cameron got a call from Vanessa. Before I got a chance to ask, he was out the door. When he came back, he wasn't empty handed. Three bags hung on his hands. I blinked. I was pretty sure one was from a lingerie store.

"Phillip asked V to go for a little shopping spree." I blushed as he handed them over. "For you." I took them, looking at the contents. "It should be enough for a few days."

"Thank you," I nodded—my brows creased. "Why did you go out to get them?" Maybe she was in a hurry—

"V can't set foot in the clearing surrounding the house, or the house. She's a Vampire—which falls into the unholy category." Oh. "You should go get ready. For Henry's grandparents?"

"Right," I drew out, going for the stairs.

I couldn't care less what clothes I'd be wearing, or if my hair was a tousled mess. I wasn't even curious about what V bought. I threw on the first thing I saw. Skinny jeans, a slender camisole with snowflakes. Hmm, V was in the Christmas spirit.

Christmas... mom always burned the turkey and the biscuits. Nigel had to save the day—or we'd be stuck with take out. Now... there wouldn't be dinners to save. We would never put up the tree, or wear the scratchy sweaters mom made.

Never.

I sunk my canine—forcing back revolting tears. I had to be strong. For Henry, I had to think about him. I needed to decide what would happen now. How we'd live.

Once I got to the living room, I was shocked to see Patricia and Harold. Henry's grandparents. Tears resurfaced, threatening to burst my seams. Looking at them made me think of Nigel and how this was all on me.

My fault.

"Oh, honey!" Patricia came as soon as she laid eyes on me. Hugging, rubbing my back in circles. She was always sweet, short and athletic-looking. "I'm so sorry you had to go through this, oh dear, it's going to be okay..." her comforting words bothered me.

She wouldn't be patting my shoulder if she knew I was responsible for her son's death—all of them. Harold stood with fallen eyes, hands on his grandchild's shoulders. He was an ex-army, loss was something he was used to.

"I need to talk with you," I began soundlessly. "Because of Henry and what's going to happen—"

Cameron stood against a wall, distant. I watched as Patricia shook her head, eyes fond of me.

"Dear, there is nothing to discuss! You can come live with us back in San Diego, we're your family, too. Nigel loved you like a daughter and to us you've always been our grandchild. We'll go back today, you don't have to stay here another minute thinking—" a chocked sound escaped her. "You don't need to stay, dear."

Go back? I blinked. "Go back... to San Diego?" I whispered hauntingly.

Harold nodded, speaking for the first time, "You should never have left."

Never have left? Yes, I used to think that way. I used to want to go back, I'd been against this move from the start—his midnight eyes captured me. It was like we were dancing all over, just us and no one else.

Cam cocked his head all of a sudden, face unreadable, looking away. My heart stuttered, contorting in a hideous emotion—something far worse than grief. It was insane.

"Nina?" Henry tugged on my hand. "You'll come back won't you?"

Gaze darting to every person in the room, I felt caged. What bothered me more was that release was close—so very close and I couldn't reach it no matter what. He was just across the room.

"I..." I began, not tearing my eyes from the Greek God ignoring me.

Patricia side-glanced behind herself—Cameron maintained his unaffected stance.

This wasn't about me. It was about Henry. I had to do the right thing by him. To keep him safe. I loved him, so... I had to let him go. I almost crumbled right there. Let him go. My only family—and stay here. It would be hard, the hardest thing I'd ever done, but around me he wouldn't be safe.

I was eighteen, an adult. I could live on my own, like Dawn pointed out a week ago, when everything had been all rainbows and unicorns.

"I can't." I got out. Everyone stared at me. "I... I can't go back. I don't want to. Despite all that happened... I... I don't want to leave." Tears were streaming, now. Oh this was hard, especially with Henry clinging to my hand in a plight. "Here I have people, I have friends and I... I feel like I belong—" and yes, the thought of leaving and never seeing Cameron was like losing part of myself.

How was that even possible?

"But... but you're my sister! You can't—you can't leave me, Nina, please..." Henry cried and I sunk to his level—hugging him, kissing his forehead. "...I don't want to lose you, too..." he murmured.

My heart thumped hard. I didn't want to leave him alone either, I felt cold-hearted, but this was for his sake. The further from me the better.

I couldn't tell them, though, and I couldn't expect a ten year old to take it well.

"I won't. You won't ever lose me, Henry, I'm your sister... that won't change, no matter where we are—I'll always be with you." This sounded like such crap in my ears. I was shaking like a leaf. "I just can't leave—but you have to. You'll go back home and you'll be okay."

Harold ended up pulling my brother away, taking him out into the fresh air. I saw Cam follow. I stayed numb, kneeling for a few more seconds.

"Honey," Patricia's kind voice called. "Honey, get up, come on." I wiped my face with the back of my hand—very unladylike. She sighed pushing a wayward strand. "Nina, you're eighteen, and I'm not really related to you—" my mouth opened, her hands lifted in placation. "I can't force you to do anything... But honey, are you certain this is what you want? Stay here?"

I didn't have a choice. "I am."

"Is this because of that young man?"

"I... no... maybe—not only." I was confused, angry and I wanted Cameron back in the room so I could draw some strength! "Things here—they haven't been bad for me—" a little white lie, since school wasn't exactly a picnic. "I have connections with people, I identify with them, I..." I finally knew what I was. "I like it. I'm sorry, I know this seems selfish of me—"

"Nina," she said. "You just lost your parents. You're hurting, and right now, your decision is to stay." Patricia shrugged with a gloomy smile. "Whatever you do, though, whatever you decide in the future... just know that you'll always have a home with us."

"Thank you." I wouldn't change my mind. I couldn't. "There's something else..."

"What, dear?"

I winced mentally, "I can't go to the funeral." It was going to be in San Diego. That wasn't the reason. "I... can't. I just..." she nodded making me forever grateful as more crying took place.

***

"Cam...?" I murmured. My eyes hurt and everything was dark out, even inside the lights had been dimmed.

Where was he? He'd been in the parlor room after... after Henry left with his grandparents. For Sand Diego. Worst of all, I think he hated me. It stabbed me like a knife. I'd promised to call—but what would that do?

I was only doing this to keep him alive, though. He wasn't safe around me. I couldn't protect him and couldn't ask the twins to watch out for both of us. Besides, Henry had no business being caught up in all the supernatural-crap.

Lifting my head, I surveyed the living room. The fireplace was almost out. No one.

Where was he? No light in the kitchen. I checked the library—staggering with a headache—empty. Could he be down in the creepy cellar? Nope, the door was closed.

"Cameron?" I called softly, knowing fully well he could hear. Nothing. Not a peep. Strange.

I headed into the parlor again, called for him and listened. No sound. Had he left me all alone? At the thought, I felt the immense want to slap him if he had! A clink caught my ear—it came from the window. Was he outside?

Shaking my head, I headed for the tall door, twisting the knob I felt the immediate fresh, winter wind. It occurred to me that this was my first time outside in the last three days. A floor board creaked underneath, I let out a wince. That's how quiet the outside was.

The garage was closed; there was no way of knowing if the car was here or not. My arms snapped around myself trying to convey warmness, rubbing my palms up and down them, I descended reaching the cared-for grass.

Crunch.

My head whirled all the way to the left—where the dense forest started. Cocking my head, I took a step closer, eyes squinting. What...? Those were foot prints on the lush grass, big ones. Could be Cameron's.

Snap.

Blinking ahead of myself, I rolled my eyes. What was he up to?

"Cameron, whatever you're doing it's not funny." Leafs rustled. "Seriously, drop it." I scowled—another twig snapped. For Pete's sake...

Ah! My brain screamed spotting him; hidden by some dark foliage, dark head ducked and... And he was gone with a mega-whoosh.

Obnoxious, I snorted walking to where I'd last seen him. I batted the frail branches and nothing. Just like expected, he was no longer there. Huffing, I glared around myself.

"Cameron, come out this instant! You left me all alone in your house, I'm angry enough—stop with the hide and seek." I grounded frustrated. What had gotten into him— "Ah!"

I jumped, turning around, gasping for breath. The muscle in my chest beat twice as fast—goddamned…! He and his sneaking-ups.

"Cameron—"

"Shush," he said grabbing my arms, pulling me intimately close. For five seconds my head fogged and I forgot why I was so angry— "What do you think you're doing out here?" he hissed, voice below soft. He was mad—exploding rage in his eyes.

Oh, no he didn't. "What am I…? You're kidding right? I woke up and you were nowhere. I heard you outside." Cameron's face swiftly changed to incredulous. "I saw you, mister. Right over there!" I hissed equally deadly. "Now, I don't know why you'd think playing these games is fun, but—" I stopped once I saw he wasn't listening to a word coming from my red-lips.

He was looking to the spot I pointed out.

"Nina," he called aghast. "I wasn't playing any game—I was in my bedroom talking to Phill—on the phone." My cheeks became tomato sauce. Oops—wait… "I wasn't standing there." He murmured, confirming my fear.

"What… are you sure?" he gave me an annoyed look. Geez, that was a stupid question. "Then who was it?" Surely not Phillip—not Raph either, it wasn't a blond.

Cameron tugged on my hand making to walk back—that's when I realized we were outside the clearing. We'd stepped out of their property, of holy ground. Oh boy.

"Go, fast." He hurried. But I couldn't see the house all that well, I'd come so deep into the forest… I hadn't noticed it. "Nina, go, come on. Walk."

For once, I didn't argue, I went as fast as I could. Though, it was hard seeing each step I took, the moon rays barely passed the tall trees—I paused. Cameron cursed.

"What part of move don't you—"

I grasped for his hand, coiling my fingers around his and Cam went silent. That smell, these trees…

"Pine trees, these trees are pine trees?" I looked around. Yep. Fear enveloped me like a glove. "Cameron, we need to get out of here—right now."

His eyes narrowed—snap. Shit. Cameron took immediate stance, predatory and feline; a true hunter. He wasn't paying me any mind, anymore. His senses were all focused on our surroundings, on whatever was out there.

Not intimidated, I grabbed his elbow—shrinking back when his gaze met mine. It was ferocious, as vicious as an untamed wolf. Braving up, I leaned forward; close enough to whisper in his hear—

"Nina," he said on alert. "Run. Now. Go back to the house—" Cameron sprung from his crouch and wrestled something—someone behind us.

I watched as Cameron rolled around on a mantle of dead leaves and twigs. The other guy—much taller than Cam—got up, shaking himself out. His face hidden by shadows. As Cameron rose, his eyes were flickering in the darkness; the deep obsidian glinted like two silver arrows.

Standing to full height, I gaped. The other thing must've been hunched before because he was so much taller than Cam… he made him look like a little boy. Definitely dwarfing me.

He stepped up to a lighter area and I saw his features. Long, muscled arms, gaunt face with ashen skin. What a combo. Talk about scary.

The man leisurely licked his lips, "It's been a while since I saw one of you." One of us? No, he was talking to Cam—at least, his eyes were on him. "Nephilims were never this hard to track," he smirked. "Extinction will do that, huh?"

Cameron studied the guy carefully, glowering. "Who the fuck are you?" he growled.

Wind picked up, sweeping the stranger's hair aside.

"Me? No one of consequence, for you, that is. All you have to know is that I'm taking both of you to him—" him? "Whether you want to or not."

Cameron quickly masked his perplexity. So he didn't know who the 'him' was, either.

"You're not taking anyone anywhere." His teeth clenched. "Over my dead body…" he muttered and instantaneously, static began gathering in a cloud around him.

Flexing his fingers boringly, the mysterious man said, "That's okay by me. I only need her alive." Oh, Jesus, when did I get pulled into this? Who was this man—he didn't look like a Demon, but then again, I'd only seen one. There were other types. Or was he a Vampire…?

A bolt of sizzling light drew me out; Cam had made the first move. The guy's speed was uncanny. He appeared leaning on a tree trunk.

"Oh, little Nephilim, that's almost pitiful. I've killed many of your kind in my day," he flashed a proud, sadistic smirk. "And you definitely aren't going to graze me with that little trick—much less wound me." Well, wasn't he a cocky bastard? Cockier than Cameron—heck, never thought that was possible.

"I'm just warming up." Cam said in a concealed, dangerous tone. "Nina," he breathed circling the man with carefulness. "Why are you still here?"

Yes, why was I staring at these two powerful individuals, when one of them wanted to kidnap me? Hmm—I know! Because I was paralyzed with fear; but I found my unease wasn't for myself, it was for Cameron.

That was the last time Cam talked to me, before they both initiated one hell of a fight. Bluish light flew from all sides, crashing closer and closer to its foe—who kept dancing with natural grace, avoiding. The guy was being driven into a thick gathering of trees and bushes—I darted down, avoiding a… had that been a tree? Yes, it had been.

Mama-Mia—that guy just ripped out a tree! How was… He hadn't even touched it! Whatever ability he had, he was using it well. Next, more trees were plugged from the ground; the roots hung, dirt flew everywhere—he motioned forward with his hand, and they were all thrown in Cameron's direction.

The twin escaped by mere inches, I think, it was so quick. He rolled over the ground, stopping near me. His eyes were briefly closed. I didn't fight the instinct and rushed to him, touching Cam, assuring myself he was breathing.

It cost me.

"Come here, little girl, I'm not finished with your boyfriend." He flung me carelessly—by the back of my sweater—with a hiss, I turned to where they were. Not done. The words drove my heart into erratic behavior.

The pain lancing throughout my head and hip were nothing compared to what the cramped anxiety and helplessness caused.

"No…" I whispered, vision spotty. "Cameron—Cam, no…" I pleaded softly.

Fast as the electricity splashing around him, Cameron got off the ground—like a spring. Thunder roared to life above us, the skies lit up in all shades of colors—from white to violet—my jaw fell. Holy… he was… he was doing that?

Suddenly, it hit me. I was such a fool. His words came back. You would be scared if you saw... What I can really do.

What he said made sense now, why he couldn't show me… he was lighting up the whole sky—it was spreading, not only above their house or the forest—over Haven Hills. My eyes took in the show, thinking how powerful he actually was. OMG—had he started that storm that lasted for a week or so?

Jesus.

Cameron dodged a punch, baring his teeth in anger. I'd never seen his face so… gelid. His gaze would make anyone drop to their knees. Not the mystery-special, unfortunately.

"That's quite impressive," I heard shallowly, all the booming electricity made it hard to hear. "Too bad you can't control it…" the voice faded out and I blanched—couldn't control it?

No, this was Cameron. He was always in control. Right? But the words from the library two weeks ago told me differently. What if… he wasn't?

It was like meteors were raining down as punishment, they fell heavily, shaking the very ground I was on—all around the foe. He cried out when a bolt got his leg. Cameron smiled and it made my eyes still. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen on his face—it was sinful, vicious. He was enjoying causing pain, as if in doing so, he was no longer in such deep agony himself.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Or it shouldn't be, but to me… to me he looked handsome, dark T-shirt, jeans and messed up hair, perfect cut features—he was a prince. Right now, a prince of darkness, but still every bit desirable.

Should I feel sick with myself? I didn't, like I understood. If I could take out my anger, I would and I'd enjoy it as much. My God… what was happening to me?

More flashes left Cameron, the sky seemed to ease up, as he ambulated to the grunting man—zapping him over and over, making him retreat each time he got closer…

Thunder crashed—split.

A scream choked in my throat, fear, remembrance clawed up my spine as I watched a tree being chopped down, coming right for me—boom.

I was shaking, where was the pain? I tentatively opened my eyes but everything I saw was a dark material—Cam's shirt. His arms were around me, his breathing tripled with despair. Behind him—us—was a fallen pine tree, torn in two. It was standing where I was.

Just like in my dream—the recurrent one. The one I'd been having since arrival.

"Nina… Nina, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to do that—I can't, I didn't…" Cam stammered with a soft, afraid tone.

Glancing up, I didn't see that malicious smirk. All vestiges of dominance and enjoyment had been wiped, now there was fearfulness, horror and insecurity. He hadn't meant to strike the tree—obviously.

"I'm okay," I breathed. "Don't worry." I muttered to reassure him I was unharmed—well except for the open wound on my temple and the throbbing of my hip. "Cam, we need to get out of here—forget about killing him we need…" my words drifted as we were projected through the air—

His back made a cracking sound meeting a tree. I slipped from his arms as he fell on the ground. Bleeding wounds were closing up quickly, mending, readying him for battle, but stayed still.

"Cameron—"

"I can't kill you," the man pointed to me and, all of a sudden, my limbs felt… strange. "But if you keep interfering, I will hurt you until you beg for death, girl." His hand opened, and my arms and legs split on their own—I was suspended two-feet off the ground.

It felt like my body was pulling itself apart. My blood vessels screamed, bones scraped together tearing a pained wail from deep my chest. And in that minute, I screamed like I had never screamed before—not even when I saw firemen taking my family away in body bags.

There was only one name going past my lips. My eyes were shut tight, but I could feel him. And he was extremely pissed off.

My voice faded as my body hit the floor—slumped. Chest heaving, sweat falling down my every pore, I slit my eyes. They weren't using anymore; they were fighting—so fast. All I saw were blurs.

Where was Phillip…? I wondered. Oh, right. Library, late assignment—he'd picked the right night. Not like it was his fault… My thoughts were so slurred, did I have a contusion?

A body rolled over, riling up dead leaves in its wake. Oh my. It was Cam. He lifted his head with a satisfied smile as grunts came from his opponent, I noticed blood on his fingers.

"You son of a bitch…! I'm going to tear you apart." When I caught sight of him, I saw his left eye bleeding and thought I'd hurl. "I'm going to kill you, Nephilim." He spat the name like they were complete opposites, enemies who'd been fighting for centuries—but he had just met Cameron.

"What is he…?" I mouthed.

No answer. I blinked, could he be… a Fallen? I shuddered. Angels gone rogue, yikes.

Even if Cam was smiling in arrogance, I saw he was hurt, bordering exhaustion. He needed to stop, it needed to end. My prince of darkness forced himself to stand—I winced for him as a kick met his chest and Cameron fell—hard, over an old tree root.

"I haven't killed a Nephilim in a while—especially not like this." I frowned, whining when my head protested at the move. "I can promise it's very fun," he let out a rough laugh, catching Cameron by the neck—hand going totally around it. "I'll get to watch you writhe for a few hours before you take your last miserable breath. Very enjoyable, indeed."

Cameron didn't have time for more as the man bit down on his shoulder. The blood on Cam's fingers dripped, falling on my forehead—this was familiar. My other dream—oh God. I knew what else happened—

He let the older twin fall beside me—his hand spasmed and I saw someone behind him. Not Phillip… Raphael. He was pulling out a dagger from the guy's back, where his heart was. The man's veins stood out, skin grew skinnier, and he began staggering.

Before shutting off, he regarded Raph with a pleased smile, "…too late, Angel…I've infected… him…" and those were the famous last words.

Raph tucked the azure dagger in a inner pocket of his jacket. He knelt, looking us over quickly, my eyes were wide and unfocused. He touched my head and more of that breezy, warm sensation rippled my skin—wounds closed, fogginess diminished until it vanished.

He'd healed me.

Shaking off soreness my hands dove for Cameron's face. His beautiful, Greek-sculptured face, the last thing I thought about before sleeping. It was pinched in mild-pain.

"Cameron, Cameron—Cam." I called time after time, his head lolled. "Open your eyes, I swear, if you're playing possum again I'll kill you myself!" I wasn't aware of tears running down the planes of my face. "Don't be a stubborn idiot. Be alive, please, please…"

His eyelids moved, "It burns… there's something… something burning." Our eyes met. He saw my irrational fear, I saw his. And somehow, I found relief. He was hurting but still breathing, better than dead. "Get it out of me." He grunted moving his head to Raphael. "Heal me, please. Heal me—" Cam asked in a small voice.

Heal him? He could heal on his own. My fingers skimmed down to the torn fabric, where the man had bitten his shoulder. I infected him. My heart beat out of pace; infected him? My finger tips brushed a seeping, flesh wound.

It wasn't healing.

"Nina," Raphael took my shoulders. He wanted me to move away—no, I thought with distress. "Please back away, I want to take him back." To the house.

My fingers fell, coated in Cam's blood. Our eyes never did, though.

"Nina…" I heard him whisper as Raph lifted him into his arms.

I forced myself to walk in-toe with Raphael, no matter how difficult. Seeing Cameron being carried like that… it was horrible. He was always tall, strong—not weak, never weak. Seeing this… it made him look years younger, much younger.

Raphael didn't bother going for his room—he kicked open the first bedroom door which was actually my guest room. It was more than fine with me. Cameron's breathing hitched as Raph lowered him onto bed.

"Why isn't he healing? Why aren't you healing him—what's happening?" I hissed with worry, sitting beside Cam's battered body.

Raphael could barely look at Cam, somehow, he met my eyes.

"He can't heal from that poison," poison? There was poison flowing his veins? "I can't heal him, either. I… can only heal something wound-like, or decease. Poison is impossible for me."

Impossible.

"Wh-what…?" I stammered. "What are you saying?"

Cameron's head turned softly, hair falling over his eyes. "…what was that thing?" he got out swallowing a bucket load of pain.

I blinked. He was interested in what that guy was… but not that he was… he was…

Raph's champagne eyes never met his nephew's, deep seethed guilt playing over and over.

"A Cambion," a what? "It's the offspring of a Fallen with a human. Its bite—its poison is deadly to Nephilim."