Nanae Raphael started drinking again. After years without, he had once again given in to temptation. It was her fault. She had come in here with that intoxicating scent. One whiff and years of self-denial went right out the window. He could stop anytime, he told himself. He just didn’t want to.

Her blood was unlike any he could remember. Her body called out to him. She was his Sinnis Ina Ummum Zumru and he had recognized her as soon as she’d walked in the room. He guessed it was her near exclusive exposure to the heightened power of the holy Capacitors that had kept her existence and location from him. She spent every day with them, seeing to their every discomfort. If only he had known about her before he made his vow.

His words replayed in his mind, taunting him. “I will see the One through her eighteenth year. On that day you will give me death or I will give in to my Hunger. Either way, that will be my last as a Nephilim. I swear it on my mother’s body,” he had said. No use fretting about it now. An oath sworn by a Nephilim on the body of a mother was unbreakable. Nanae’s beast, within his depths, enlivened by the promise of freedom, stretched, testing Nanae’s leash, and found that his oath had put a weakness in the chain. He had felt it and Ereshkigal had seen it. The beast knew that if continual pressure was put on that leash, it would break. Come to me on that day and I will allow you to meet the final death with your honor intact, the First had said to him. There would be no escape, but eighteen years is a long time, for a human. Or a Nephilim who had lost control of his Hunger. His Sinnis, Camilla Tharese Brewster Lovejoy, would survive him. She would survive him if he could refrain from killing her.

If he could keep his Hunger beast from recognizing her as his Sinnis.

She was tiny with a wealth of blonde hair the same color as his. Striking with minimal effort, her hair was all the same length, like she hadn’t bothered to cut it in years. A petite pixie with small but perfect breasts and a heart shaped butt, her legs were short but shapely, ending with thin ankles and delicate feet. She wore no makeup, but her fiery green eyes and pink mouth gave her face all the color she needed. Her lips were thin but well-shaped. With a top lip almost as long as the bottom one, her smile was wide and barely upturned at the corners. She had a dimple on one side. Her skin was pale, almost transparent, blue veins and pink arteries prominent. The beast had called for her death, her immediate draining, and Nanae had almost given in. Ereshkigal’s Law be damned; no one should smell that delicious.

Then she’d spoken.

He would have given her anything after hearing that voice. She was asking for something only he could give her and he couldn’t deny her. She wanted a baby. She was a Panacea Primo for the Daughters of Women. Since she came from the same maternal line as he, she could be none other than a healer. Her ability was different though. There were almost no limits to what he could heal. Hers manifested itself as the ability to remove any abnormality from the human bodies around her. It was very handy for curing cancer and infections but could not differentiate between a tumor and a desired pregnancy.

That was where he came in. Camilla was fairly certain she could conceive but needed him to block her natural ability. She needed him to hold the pregnancy to her until it was a viable age, able to survive life outside her body. He agreed. He wished his seed carried the spark of life but Nephilim could not procreate that way. A human man would have to provide.

This service would cost her. He’d told her the price and she’d agreed. It was reasonable, she said. Little did she know. There was nothing reasonable about what he would demand from her. He had only taken a few drops, just a taste, to seal the deal. It had been almost impossible to reign the beast back. Would he be strong enough next time?