Illusion: Chronicles of Nick (15 page)

Nick let out a bitter laugh. “After everything I’ve seen today, I’m willing to expand my definition of believable.”

Ash glanced away from him. “Yeah, I guess you are. Anyway, she gave up her powers to live in the mortal world with my dad. One weekend when me and Simi were with my grandfather, some men broke into our house and killed my parents. After that, my granddad went crazy and kind of declared war on the entire world.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry you got caught up in my grandfather’s lunacy. But when he heard that Thorn was looking for you and that you went to our school, he was paranoid you might pose a threat to us. Me and Sim have been on lockdown ever since and we’ll remain here until he decides you’re not a threat to us or he kills you. He’s terribly overprotective that way.”

Nick could have respected that, had he not spent the last hour trying to keep a demon from tearing out his throat. “So what’s he going to do with me?”

Leaning forward, Ash appeared to be holding something back. “I don’t know. I hope he lets you go.”

Nick arched a brow. “You say that like he ate the last person he trapped here.”

Oh yeah, that was not a look a guy wanted to see on someone else’s face when his life hung in the balance. “I should be going.”

“Ash?”

He paused to glance at Nick.

“The Thorn I met earlier is a psycho, but I promise that I would never hurt you or Simi. I don’t turn on my friends and I don’t cause them harm. My mama raised me better.”

“I know. I just hope we can convince my grandfather of that. He’s not used to honorable people. Only those who are out to do as much damage as possible … and usually to the most innocent.” And with that, Ash vanished and left him alone. The chair backed itself into the wall again and melted.

Baffled, tired, and defeated, Nick stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember what life had been like before all the insanity had started. In some ways, he missed the naive assumption that the world was only inhabited by humans. But honestly, it’d been no less evil. Not really. The enemy had only taken other forms in those days. One good thing about demons, they didn’t pretend to be your friend. They declared their enmity and attacked accordingly. Full frontal assault.

Humans, alone, pretended to be your friend while plotting ways to stab you in the back and cut your throat. Many times for nothing more than their own petty amusement.

That, he definitely didn’t miss.

Closing his eyes, Nick allowed his thoughts to drift back to the world he knew. The friends he could count on. While his life was hard—sometimes impossible—aggravating, and grueling, it was his.

And he missed it. More than he would have ever thought possible.

Nick released a long, pent-up breath and relaxed in spite of the stress of being here. His ears rang as he drifted to sleep.

But no sooner did he feel his body go limp than he heard Caleb’s angry curses. Following the sound, Nick suddenly found himself in Caleb’s elaborate mansion, which appeared to be under siege.

At first, he thought he was dreaming.

Until he saw the other Nick, cringing on the stairs with his hands over his ears as he cowered. It was the strangest sensation to see himself doing something so out of character.

Zavid was covered with bruises and bleeding cuts as he stepped over the body of three twisted demons that lay in the center of the marble foyer. His breathing labored from the fight, he glared at Caleb. “You and I need to discuss the definition of
protected
, Malphas, because mine is apparently radically different from yours.”

“What is
that
?” “Nick” screamed in a tone that could double as a sonic weapon while he pointed to the demon carcasses.

Holding one hand up to his ear, Caleb visibly cringed. “I really miss Gautier. While he might be a major pain most of the time, at least the kid can hold his own in a fight … and he doesn’t scream like a prepubescent girl who just had a spider run up her arm.”

Zavid started to blast the other Nick.

Caleb grabbed his arm to stop it. “Unless you want to carry him in the fight, don’t.”

Zavid bared his fangs at Caleb. “I think we should hand him over and let them have his worthless hide.”

“Don’t tempt me. But until we find out what’s going on and where Kody went, we need to keep protecting him.”

“Why?”

Caleb gave Zavid a droll stare. “Nick’s my friend and I don’t have many of those. No offense, I don’t want to lose him. And I definitely don’t want to tell his mom we let him get lost.”

Those words stunned the real Nick as he watched them. It wasn’t like Caleb to admit that to anyone. And it touched him deeply. Honestly, he’d thought all this time that Caleb would rather cut his head off and use it for a bowling ball than put up with him. At least that’s what Caleb had always told him.

The Hel Hound held his hands up in surrender. “Never have understood the mind of a daeve and you’re not making this any easier.”

Caleb began chanting, strengthening the spell that was supposed to protect his house from preternatural interlopers.

Zavid growled as something hit the window closest to him. “You should have never bound Gautier’s powers. If he had them, he could just sneeze the vermin back into their hole.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Zavid scoffed. “How is it not?”

Caleb started toward the other Nick then paused to look back at Zavid. “Do you know how a Malachai evolves?”

“Yeah, they’re spawned by mothers who hate them with every breath they take, and are beaten into beasts.”

Caleb nodded. “Nick has been shielded from that kind of hatred his whole life. While he’s had a few people who despise him, he’s had many more love him. The moment any hatred rises around him, his mother negates it. She calms and cares for him. Loves him. It’s why Cherise is so important to all of us. She is his anchor. For Nick to be blasted with the full weight of his bloodline … we don’t know what it’ll do to him. Every time those powers have taken hold inside him, he’s blacked out mentally while destroying everything that’s in his vicinity. He’s not in control. And an out-of-control Malachai is the last thing any of us need. Especially when that Malachai has not only his own powers, but those of his extremely powerful father.”

“Highly valid points.” Zavid rubbed his hand over his brow. “And you’re right. I barely got a taste of Adarian Malachai and that was with him severely weakened. I can only imagine how deadly he was at full strength.”

“Don’t have to imagine. Was there, and had my butt handed to me after Adarian put it in a sling.”

Suddenly, the window behind Zavid shattered. A blast of fire came through it, setting Caleb’s curtains ablaze.

Without thinking, Nick started toward it to help put it out. He’d only taken a step before something pulled him back. He reached out with his arms.

It did no good.

Aggravated, he spun away from the sight of them stamping out flames until he was alone in utter darkness. Even so, he felt a subtle stirring in the air by his side.

“Will you help my brother?”

He turned to find a woman there who bore an uncanny resemblance to Zavid. “Can you see me?”

She nodded. “I’m a ghost, too.”

“I’m not a ghost.” At least he didn’t think he’d died while sleeping.

Scowling, she looked at the fake Nick then back at him. “Are you the real Malachai?”

“I guess I am.”

Anger darkened her eyes. “You guess?”

“Yes,” he said more forcefully. “I’m the Malachai.”

That seemed to appease her. “How did you get separated from your body without being a ghost?”

How he wished he had an answer. “I’m open to any suggestion you might have about that. Ticked off the wrong body-changing god?”

She paused to consider his words. “They must be trying to kill you.”

“Most things are, but who are
you
referring to?”

“Your generals.” She stepped back. “Something must have changed. They wanted you to claim and develop your powers from your father so that they could use and control you. But to separate your soul from your body … death is the only reason for that.”

Nick scowled at her. She had a lot of pertinent information that was missing from his knowledge bank. “Who are you?”

“I’m Zarelda.”

That name meant nothing to him, but if she was related to Zavid, that would make her a demon, too. “You’re an Aamon?”

She winced at his question. “I was. Then I was betrayed and left to die alone.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I just wanted to be loved by someone. Just once in my life. But perhaps you and I are alike in that no one can love our species. We don’t deserve it. We are both born to suffer endlessly.”

Nick shook his head. She was wrong. She had to be. “I don’t believe that. Everyone deserves love.”

Denial burned bright in her eyes. “The only one who ever loved me was Zavid. He gave up everything, including the one person he loved above all, to save me. And I ruined him.” A tear slid down her cheek. “His heart is so pure and true. Please. You must help my brother.”

“Help him how?”

“Keep him safe from Hel. I should never have allowed him to take my place. It was selfish and wrong. I was scared and stupid. No excuse, I know, and yet I didn’t stop him when I should have. But you will help him, yes?”

She was caught on that loop. Not that he blamed her. He’d be the same way if he’d hurt someone he loved.

“Yeah. I’ll do my best … If I can ever get back to my body.”

“You must get your powers back.”

She said that as if it were easy and under his control. “If I knew how to do that, I’d have done it already.”

Zarelda’s gaze burned into him. “You are the Malachai. The most powerful of all demonkyn. Your powers are always with you. They are a part of your very soul … not your body. No one, except your son, can ever take them from you. You just have to believe in them and in yourself.” She began fading.

“Wait!”

“Save my brother.” The words whispered and echoed around him as she vanished.

Nick cursed at the darkness that was now so thick it pressed in on him. Made it hard to breathe.

“You know,” he shouted, “if it was that simple, I’d have done it already!” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he felt the need to state that out loud.

Believe in myself and my powers …

Sure. Why not?

Sighing, he clenched his fists and in the most enthusiastic voice he could muster he called out, “I believe!”

Of course, nothing happened. Other than he sounded like an Oz munchkin on a helium high …

Just follow the yellow brick road. Follow the yellow brick road.

“Gah, I am losing it.” Why not? Both places had slobbering hell-monkeys. “Just don’t put me in a pair of red ruby high heels.” Or drop a house on him. That was all his screwed-up life needed.

But as he drifted through the darkness, one thing crystalized for him. He had to become whole again even if it meant embracing the part of himself he not only hated most, but the part of him that terrified every cell in his body.

And if he had to sell his soul to keep his loved ones safe, he’d draft the contract himself and nail it to the devil’s forehead.

CHAPTER 11

Nick jerked awake as the air around him shifted. Ready to battle, he opened his eyes to find the scary Acheron standing by his bed. Yawning, he rubbed at his eyes. “Oh look, it’s Mr. Happy-Creepy come to feed me to more of his pets.”

“How can you not be afraid of me?”

Nick shrugged. “Guess I knew you in a former life.”

Acheron narrowed his spooky gaze on him. He cocked his head as if he was listening to the ether for clues or information. That was yet another unreliable power Nick missed having. “Thorn has offered me quite a bargain to hand you over to him.”

“Should I pack my things?” Nick looked down at himself. “Oh wait, I forgot. Don’t have anything to pack.” He sighed wearily. “Not even a toothbrush. My dentist would be so disappointed in me.”

Ash let out a sound of supreme irritation. Not like that was a first for the two of them. “How can you have no fear whatsoever?”

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” Nick said in his best FDR accent, then he shrugged nonchalantly. “Worst you can do is kill me.”

Acheron gave him a gimlet stare. “Worst we could do is torture you.”

Nick grinned at his threat. “Pain I can take. Really. Doesn’t scare me, either.”

Acheron rolled his eyes before he pulled something out from under his coat and slung it at Nick. Some kind of wet spider-webby something covered him.

Hissing, Nick wiped the clear, stringy goo off his face. “Ew! What
is
that?” It smelled like Stone’s week-old gym socks.

Incredulous, Acheron tucked his vial into his pocket. “Proof you’re not the Malachai. That would have seared your demon’s flesh … which still makes me curious as to why Thorn wants you so badly if you’re human.”

Nick continued to wipe it away. “Told you. I’m irresistibly cute.”

“I should probably kill you, just to be safe.”

Pausing, Nick wiped his hand against his jeans. “I’d really rather you not.”

“Thought death didn’t scare you.”

“Roaches don’t either, but I don’t want to be covered in them. Know what I mean?”

An amused glint lit those weird eyes. “Strangely, I do, kid.”

“Grandpa?”

Acheron froze at the sound of Simi’s hesitant voice. Before he could move, she appeared in the room with them. Her face pale, she was trembling.

“Simkey?” Acheron breathed, pulling her against him. It was only then that Nick saw the blood on her. Something had cut her in the stomach.

She showed Acheron her blood-covered hands that shook with the weight of her pain. “T-t-they said I was evil. That I-I needed to die.”

Tears filled Acheron’s eyes. “Who did this?”

Her breathing labored, she couldn’t respond as she collapsed. Acheron laid her down on the floor. Now his hands trembled even more than hers did while tears streaked down his face.

“Don’t leave me, Simkey,” Acheron breathed, taking her hand into his.