Under the Final Moon by Jayne Hannah

Author:Jayne, Hannah [Jayne, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: United States, Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2014-08-05T07:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

By the time I left the library the sun was setting and the fog was rolling in, blanketing everything in a cool, misty gray. I had just gunned the engine when the rain started, big, sad drops that thumped on the hood of my car, first a slow rhythm, then growing in speed and size.

“There it is,” I mumbled to myself. “A flood. It’s starting again.”

I pulled away from the curb, getting one of those big, I’m-feeling-sorry-for-myself lumps at the back of my throat, and by the time the rain had smoothed out again to a pitiful drizzle, I was crying in hiccupping fits as tiny rivers of rain water rushed along the street.

When I got home, I had mainly gotten ahold of myself, but with my rosy cheeks and runny nose, there was no way I could slide past Nina.

“What happened, pumpkin?” she said when she saw me, dark brows slamming together.

I waved at the air in the vain assumption that I was over being a sniveling idiot. “Oh, nothing. Just that I’m a stain upon the earth that God tried to wash away.” The tears came back and I was doing that terrible silent cry with my mouth open until Nina crossed the living room and threw her arms around me, crushing me to her ice-cold chest.

“Who called you a stain?” she said in a slightly disturbing vampire-baby voice. “Who would call you that?”

I huffed and sniffled. “The-the-the Bible.”

Nina pulled back, studying me. “Really?”

“My dad is Satan and my mom is regular so that makes me—”

“Nephilim,” she supplied. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You know about the Nephilim?”

Nina released me and guided me to a chair at the dining table, filled a kettle with water, and dropped it onto the stove. She pulled a blood bag from the fridge and yanked open the top of the teakettle. “You mind?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, no worries.”

She dropped the blood bag into the water and turned up the stove, then leaned over, chin in hands, and looked at me. “I don’t know much about the Nephilim except that they exist. And you know, the whole mixed-breed thing.”

I felt my lower lip push out. “The flood was to get rid of me.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, Soph, do you know how many times people have tried to get rid of me? How many times I’ve been chased by pitchfork-wielding villagers with fire? Like, a thousand.”

“I know, but . . . I just thought people liked me.”

“You are being ridiculous. People like you.”

“Did you always know? What I am?”

Nina turned when the kettle whistled. She plucked out her blood bag, holding the plastic edge with her teeth as she dropped a tea bag and more sugar than any adult should eat in one sitting, into a mug. She topped it off with hot water and I thought she wasn’t going to answer me, or was taking her time because she was going to answer me and it was going

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