Illusion: Chronicles of Nick (13 page)

Kody paused again as she faced Savitar. “If Nick brought me over, do you think we could do that to someone else?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Maybe I could summon a Charonte. Do you think I’d be able to bring
our
Simi here?”

Savitar shrugged. “You can always try.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back with the most peaceful of expressions on her beautiful face. The storm outside picked up fervor while they waited.

Nick held his breath, praying this worked. They needed backup in the worst way imaginable. But more than that, he’d sell his soul for just a tiny bit of his powers to work.

If I ever get them back, I will never complain about them again. Even if they turn Madaug into another goat
. Heck, at this point, he’d even kiss the surly spirit that inhabited his Malachai grimoire.

“Mark’s just down the street, but he can’t make it through the demons to reach us.” Bubba returned to frown at Kody. “What’s she doing?”

“Unfortunately, nothing,” she said with a sigh. “It’s not working. I can’t reach anything on our side. I’m completely blocked, which should be an impossibility.”

Closing the distance between them, Nick ran his thumb down her jaw. “
Ca c’est bon, cher t’bebe
. We have
you
.”

Kody scoffed at his blind optimism, even though that was one of the things she loved most about him. “What can I do? I’m only one person.”

Nick tsked at her in true Cajun fashion. And when he spoke, his accent was thicker than frozen roux. “Now who’s making excuses, eh?”

She wanted desperately to be irritated at him, but he made it impossible. The boy was way too charismatic for his own good. And unfortunately, it wasn’t just his demon’s glamor that made him so irresistible. “Don’t make me take your mother’s bat to you, boy.”

He gave her that charming grin that never failed to set her heart pounding. Even in this incarnation when he lacked the incredible good looks she was used to. There was just something about him that was absolutely compelling. “Come now,
cher
. No fret on that face
de jolie.
You done stood toe-to-toe with the Malachai. What’s a few thousand generic demons compared to that?”

“A slaughter.”

His grin widened. “That’s the spirit.”

“No, Nick. Slaughter for
us
. Feast for them.”

And still that grin warmed her as he took the bat from his mother and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Ah now,
cher
, I plan to pass a good time. Besides, you know the old saying. When the going gets tough, the tough get napalm.”

Heck of a time for him to lose his mind. Couldn’t he have waited a little longer before he totally gave in to insanity? “What are you talking about?”

Nick examined the end of the Louisville Slugger. “Contrary to what you and Caleb and Madaug think, I am actually literate. And between the marathon runs of Let’s-Kill-Nick, I’ve been studying my grimoire and taking notes. We’re currently on holy ground with Malachai blood. What say we practice a little chemistry?”

She wasn’t quite following his lead. “How do you mean?”

“What do you get when you mix my blood with holy water?”

She sucked her breath in sharply at the mental image that evoked. “Demon napalm.”

Nick winked at her as he walked backward through the hallway toward the church that was attached to the convent. “That’s right,
cher
. I was an altar boy for three years here and at St. Louis … I know where all the good stuff is kept.”

He opened the doors with a grandiose flair. “We can mix it together and use a thurible and aspergillum to sling it at them.” Then he bit his lip as if the mere thought of it caused him pain. “Man, I’m going to give the monseigneur a stroke this coming Saturday when I lay this confession on him. I’ll be saying my Acts of Contrition and Hail Marys from now until I’m too feeble to kneel.”

His mother sighed wearily as she took the bat back from him. “Or get us excommunicated.”

Nick nodded glumly. “Bubba—”

Bubba growled, cutting him off. “Why do you keep calling me that? I detest that nickname.”

“Sorry,” Nick said sheepishly. “In our world, it’s the name Michael you detest, and I can’t really call you Dad ’cause that’s just creepy and weird … anyway, can you sit tight on my mom while we do this?”

Cherise took a step toward him. “Nick—”

“It’s all right, Ma. This is not the most dangerous thing I’ve done … even today.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head than coming out of my mouth.” Nick moved forward to hug Cherise and kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to die until I return your Nick to you and I get back home to my mother who needs me. Poor thing, I’m all she’s got.”

Cherise cupped his face in her hands. “For the record, I’m proud of both my Nicks.”

“Thanks.” He took her hand and placed it in Bubba’s before he turned around and vanished into the hallway that connected the convent to the church.

Unsure of what was happening, Kody followed after him. Something about Nick was suddenly very different. He held a new confidence in himself that hadn’t been there before. It was as if he no longer felt guilty for ruining his mother’s life. As if he realized that he had real value to the world and wasn’t the loser other people had called him all his life.

Strange that he would find it now when he had no powers to draw on. No real protectors to keep him safe from harm.

And yet it was there. And it was undeniable. Inside, he wasn’t the same Nick he’d been when all this started.

Bemused, she watched as he gracefully genuflected and crossed himself in front of the nave before he went to where the keys were kept.

Savitar came up behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Are you absolutely sure he’s the Malachai?”

“I am.”

“Then you were right. He’s not like any that has come before him.”

“No, he’s not. And I can’t even begin to fathom how this boy becomes the beast that killed me. He’s so…”

“Human.”

She nodded.

“People change.”

Kody bit back a smile at the irony of that coming out of the mouth of someone who was so very different himself. This Savitar wasn’t anything like the acerbic Chthonian who’d taught her to surf before she was out of diapers. The Chthonian who’d trained her on how to call and command Charonte. Deep inside, she ached for those long-lost days of innocence.

Even though they weren’t related by blood, Savitar had been like a grandfather to her.

“Would you mind if I hugged you?”

Savitar quirked a brow at her sudden request. “Why?”

“Because I’ve missed you. A lot, and I haven’t seen you in centuries.”

“But I’m not the same as the man you knew.”

“You’re more alike than you think, and right now, I could really use it.”

Nick paused as he saw Kody with Savitar. She threw herself against him like a small child with a parent they hadn’t seen in a long while. And it was obvious from Savitar’s awkwardness that he wasn’t used to being embraced by anyone. It made Nick wonder if the Savitar in his world was the same.

And he still had so many questions for Kody that he needed answered. What was Savitar to her? Really? Because what he saw right now said that she loved and adored the man. All the time he’d known her, she’d never trusted anyone. Not really.

Yet she’d trusted Savitar, even in this realm.

Trying not to think about it or be jealous, Nick ran holy water into the large plastic bin the volunteers used for storing cleaners. And even that made him feel guilty.

It’d been drilled into him from birth that holy water was sacred. They even had a special, separate drain they poured the excess down so as to keep it away from regular water.

No matter how much it meant for their survival, Nick couldn’t bring himself to desecrate anything holy. His conscience was already flogging him over what he was doing. But he’d left money in the cupboard to pay for the blessed salt and the thurible and aspergillum he’d taken. It was for the survival of the world, after all. Surely he’d be forgiven for this little bit of unsanctioned use.

Nick carried the bin to the back pew where Savitar and Kody were huddled in the shadows. “Kody? Do you have a knife on you?”

She pulled one out of her pocket and handed it to him.

Without comment, Nick rolled his sleeve back and cut his forearm.

Screwing his face up, Savitar hissed as Nick allowed his blood to drip into the bin. “You act like you’ve done this before.”

“Not quite, but I did assist an exorcist once. We took blood from my hand for that and it made it hard to grip or make a fist. I’d rather my arm throb than my hand be rendered useless for the fighting I’m sure we’re going to have to do to get out of this.”

As soon as Nick was finished, Kody wrapped a cotton towel around his cut and used her powers to stop it from bleeding.

With his hand, Nick mixed the water and blood then poured it into the thurible and aspergillum. As soon as the mixture touched the holy objects, there was a subtle hissing.

Snorting, Nick looked at them. “Should I be offended at the sound it’s making?”

Savitar shrugged. “Well, you were born of the darkest powers.”

“But he’s also born of innocence and good.”

Nick smiled at Kody’s rapid defense of him. She never allowed anyone to insult him or put him down in any way.

Not even himself.

Still, he hated how he’d been conceived. The misery he’d caused his real mother because she dared to keep him when any sane woman would have given him up for adoption and walked away without ever looking back. She deserved to be like the Cherise in this world. Treasured and loved.

Rich and affluent.

Instead, she’d been saddled with him, and to her credit, she’d never once made him feel like the worthless burden he was.

I love you, Mom.

Nick glanced to Kody. “My mother’s heart and my father’s curse.… God forgive me,” he whispered before he handed Kody the aspergillum and headed for the doors to the outside.

Worried about Nick, Kody picked up the bin and carried it after him while Savitar followed her. She held her breath, hoping this actually worked.

As soon as Nick was on the curb that was off holy ground, the demons came for him. Like a fearless gladiator, he waited until they were closer before he slung the thurible up and bathed them with the mixed water.

Kody bit her lip, waiting for them to explode.

They didn’t. In fact, it had no effect on them at all.

Her stomach shrank painfully as she realized why. “Nick! Your blood isn’t the Malachai’s. It’s the other Nick’s blood. You’re human here.”

“Then why did it hiss?” He looked up at the demons and had the same “oh crap” expression she was sure was on her face. “Ever have that feeling that you’re a complete and utter nimrod? Yeah, I’m there right now.… It was a good idea. Just a real bad execution.”

“Nick!” she screamed as the demons dive-bombed him. He ran toward her as fast as he could. She opened fire on the demons with every fire blast she could manage.

Savitar joined her, but the demons were all over Nick, dragging him away from them.

“Get Kody to safety!” Nick shouted as he punched and fought against the winged demons.

They both ignored him and rushed forward.

It was too late. Before they could take more than a handful of steps, demons picked him up and carried him off.

Disbelief speared her as the demons vanished with Nick and the sky above cleared up. The sun returned to shining as if the worst thing imaginable hadn’t just happened.

The Malachai’s soul was in the hands of his enemies and he was powerless against them.

CHAPTER 9

“Kody!”

Dazed, she heard Savitar’s fierce shout, but all she could do was blink as memories ripped through her and shredded every last piece of her sanity. Over and over, she saw her family die. Felt the stabbing agony of losing what she loved most.

Of watching her world torn apart while she was powerless to stop it.

No longer in New Orleans, she saw herself standing in front of Sraosha, Suriyel, and Adidiron after she’d died. Their spartan office had been bright and austere. Clinical.

As were they.

Like his brethren, Adidiron was dressed in his ancient bronze armor. Golden fair, he’d been so beautiful that it was hard to look upon him at all. “Will you serve us?” he’d asked her.

Their request to join their league and fight against the Malachai had floored her. “Why would you want me? I failed.”

His hands folded in front of him while his wings were spanned out, Suriyel had stepped forward. Unlike Sraosha and Adidiron, he had short dark hair and vibrant gold eyes. His skin was a deep caramel that was almost the same color as her mother’s. “You are the only one who has ever forced him into retreat. For three years, you managed to hold him back. And you’re just a child. In all these centuries, with all the Malachai, no other general ever managed that.”

“But I failed,” she repeated.

“No,” Sraosha contradicted. “Your anger betrayed you. Had it stayed in check, you would have succeeded.”

Maybe. She wasn’t as sure about that as they were. All she remembered was the hatred blazing in bloodred eyes as the Malachai delivered blow after blow to her. He’d been relentless and huge. Nothing had daunted him. It was as if the rage inside him was so great that nothing could quell or lessen it.

Honestly, she didn’t know if she was up to a rematch with that monster.

Suriyel placed a kind hand on her shoulder. “You’re the only hope we have. We can send you back to the first Malachai. Kill him and reset the time sequence. Let the world know what it’s like to exist without such evil in it.”

She’d frowned at his request. “What about the balance?”

With a heavy sigh, Sraosha had folded his arms over his chest. “Another will rise, but whoever it is, they won’t be as powerful an enemy. We will be able to keep them in check.”

Still, she didn’t want to go back. Even though she’d barely lived nineteen years, she felt ancient. She was so tired of fighting. Tired of watching people around her die and not being able to save them. “I don’t know.…”