And whenever he did ...
Tragic things happened for them all.
Xev turned toward Simi. "Charonte? Can you trace the Malachai?"
"The Simi wishes you'd stop calling her that, cursed god. It really, really annoying. She gots a name. Two of them, actually. And they both are quite lovely. So please, pick one and use it when you address me. Otherwise, I might have to do something not so nice to you to get the Simi's point across."
Sighing irritably at him, she closed her eyes and tried to locate Nick.
After a few seconds, she shook her head. "Nope. The Simi gots no ideas where he went on off to. Maybe he got hungry? Sometimes them boys do that without warning. He the only one the Simi knows who eats as much as she does. He a growing Malachai, after all."
Xev turned around slowly as he studied the symbols on the walls. Symbols that would be useless against Chronus and Tiamat. As well as their pets. He hoped he was wrong. "I have a really bad feeling about this."
Dagon nodded. "As do I. If both Chronus and Tiamat are here, there can only be one reason for it."
"What?" Kody asked.
"Judgment," Xev and Dagon said in unison.
It was the only thing that made sense, and it explained absolutely everything that had happened so far.
The weather. The demons.
Everything.
They should have realized it sooner. But it was so rare a thing that it just hadn't occurred to him that it could be happening, especially since neither he nor Livia had voted or discussed such.
In theory, the sarras should have all met together to decide upon it. All of them. Yet none had broached the subject with him.
Not even Livia, whom he saw every day.
Kody sucked her breath in sharply. "The others?"
Xev nodded. "They must have called for Nick to be removed as Malachai."
Her jaw went slack as she finally understood the severity of what they might be dealing with. "Has that ever been done before?"
"Only once. Many eons ago. After that ... there's never been another opportunity. Because of their inherited memories, and tendency and need for vengeance, the Malachais put us down too fast for fear of it happening again. They give us no chance to get together for the vote. And take great pleasure in punishing us for what was done back then."
Dagon turned to Kody. "You better get to Caleb, and make sure Livia hasn't done something to him."
"What do you mean?"
It was Xevikan who answered her question. "If this is the Malachai test, she might be working with the others, and there's no telling what she might have done to him to initiate it. It would take four sarras to agree to have a Malachai undergo the hazard. I know I didn't call for it or vote on it. That leaves her, or Bane, as a deciding vote with the others. And I have a feeling Bane didn't bother. Unless he's radically different from the man I remember, he wouldn't involve himself with such politics or treachery."
Kody shook her head. "It doesn't make sense, though. Why would Livia do that after all Caleb and Nick have done to welcome her in?"
Xev laughed bitterly. "It's her nature, Nekoda. If the sarras reached out to her, and asked her to join them, she would have, without hesitation. All she wants is to feel like she's a part of their family. One of them."
As Kody started to leave, they heard a knock on the door.
"Menyara?" Dagon asked, thinking it might be her returning with some of their reinforcements.
No one answered from the hallway.
Simi went to the door and peeped through the hole. "Nope. It that other dog-boy. Zavid ... Hi, Zavid!" she said in a louder tone as she opened the door for him to enter the condo.
But as he came into the room with an odd swagger and headed straight for the couch where Cherise was still sleeping, they realized this wasn't Zavid.
It was Noir in his body.
Dagon cut his path off to Cherise. "What are you doing here, Father?"
"You know what I want, boy. Now join me or stand aside."
Dagon's gaze went to Xev and Kody. "You asked me earlier to pick a side to die for. I just did."
Stepping back, he let fly a blast from his hands and declared his eternal enmity.
CHAPTER 13
As every single piece of bramble and brush on the forest floor came alive to attack them, Livia shrieked and ran to hide, leaving Nick as the sole nummy treat for them all.
Pissed and aghast, Nick gaped at her as he pulled out his Malachai sword, and expanded its size to fight as best he could. "Livia! A hand, please! You're supposed to be one of my sarras, you know!"
She shrieked and dodged. "I don't fight hand-to-hand. I lead.... Other demons fight. Not me. Never me. That's not what I do."
Now ... now she tells me this? Really?
Stunned, he gaped at her as he realized just how badly he'd chosen his partner for this venture. Wow. Talk about hindsight.
And extreme stupidity. Lethal stupidity, for that matter. Bubba would be so proud.
Or disappointed that Nick hadn't paid closer attention in all those survival classes he'd attended and mocked Bubba for teaching. That'll learn me for daring to make fun of others.
Artemis was right. Payback was a cat.
Nick fought back as best he could. Alone. "Out of curiosity," he panted, between near-death blows. "Why were you chosen as a sarra, if you can't, and don't, fight?"
She lifted her chin as if offended by what, to him, was an extremely reasonable question. "I'm very handy, I'll have you know! I induce envy and conflict into battle and war."
Oh ... great. In other words, she was a dung-stirring troublemaker. Pure and simple. That was her entire value in war. Wonderful. Just ... effing beautiful.
That was exactly what he wanted in a fight right now. Yeah.
Nick cursed himself for not asking that question sooner. That explained why she'd outed him so fast and hurled his bleeding carcass under the bus with the one-eyed giant on their arrival.
That was her nature and her job.
It actually explained a whole lot about many things since he'd brought her on board with his crew. She was a troublemaker. The one who lit the fire in others and watched it burn.
Crap ... I'm such a flaming moron. And he was about to be a dead one.
He realized too late the mistake he'd made, putting her at his back, and leaving her alone with his friends after he'd freed her.
Oh, the things people learned about others when it was too late to make it better. The last thing anyone wanted on their team was someone whose sole purpose in life was causing drama and stirring up jealousy and intrigue.
How could I have been so stupid? How could he not have seen it before now? Not known what she was doing with her subtle comments and snide innuendo?
But it was easy to do. The thing about jealousy and gossip was that they slipped up on everyone. The trick was to recognize them and stop them immediately. To not let them under your skin.
Because, just like now, they were worthless things that existed for no other purpose than to destroy lives. No one needed them and they served no real use.
Nick looked at Lerabeth. "Hey, bird? A hand or wing here, please?"
The bird snorted. "I'm your guide. Not your soldier. You're on your own, Malachai."
That was how he'd wanted it, but ... He was beginning to realize alone wasn't all it was cracked up to be, either.
Especially against this number of attackers, who were hell-bent on ending his days and ruining his boyish figure.
Sticks and stones continued to rise up from the ground and twist into more armored soldiers. Which would have been cool when he was a kid, playing toy war. But these sticks and stones fully intended to break every bone in his Malachai body and not stop until he was fully dead.
Fine. What do I have in my arsenal?
Lethal sarcasm. A sword. Malfunctioning powers.
And one trapped demonic spirit ...
Nick laughed at a ridiculous idea. A real Hail Mary move
You are Catholic. Those tend to be your specialties.
True. But there was no guarantee it would work.
You have a full guarantee that it won't work if you don't try it.
Nick ducked as the ugly and very-skilled-with-a-sword giant in front of him swung for his head. He caught the blow with his own sword and parried, then narrowly missed the next attack from another creature moving in at his back. Man, he could use Kody and Caleb, and their wicked sword skills right now. These guys were going to win just by their sheer numbers against him. One person, even a Malachai, couldn't stand for long against this onslaught.
Not alone. Not with his ill-training. Between work and school, he just didn't have the time to focus on martial skills that he needed. If I live, I swear I'm going to pay more attention to Kyrian, Caleb, and Acheron when they try to teach me this stuff. No more gaming until he mastered real fighting.
He meant that this time!
"Liv!"
"What?" she snapped irritably. Like she had a reason to be snotty when he was the one getting the crap beat out of him? His arm was so bruised right now, he could barely lift it. His back ached. His head hurt. And he wasn't too sure he still had a working spinal cord.
"Help!"
"Can't. They don't have blood for me to drain. That's how I fight."
Well, fan-freaking-tastic. Nick blasted another stone soldier with a bolt of fire and twisted from the grasp of another.
I'm so getting my butt kicked. He couldn't even get to his grimoire to attempt his Hail Mary play.
How had Xev survived it here?
For one thing, he was a god. And a trained soldier, with real battle experience.
And you're the Malachai. You have the power of ancient gods and the Source, too. You can tap the primal powers of the entire universe and blast them to oblivion.
Use the Force, Luke!
All of a sudden, he felt the warmth of his powers building inside him. The fire of it rushed through his blood, faster and faster. His vision darkened. His back burned as his wings began to push through the surface of his skin.
Don't! He heard Nekoda's voice in his head telling him not to morph. You can't control it!
She was right and he knew it. He did lose a part of his soul to the darkness every time he accessed those powers he didn't fully understand.
But ... there were no people here. No one he loved that he could lose or accidentally hurt if he went Malachai.
Yeah, but he had no anchor here either. No one to pull him out of it or calm him down. The gods knew Livia wouldn't do it. She didn't care enough to.
If you don't come back from the Malachai state, your mom and Caleb will die. As the full Malachai, you won't care about getting them their cure.
If I don't live through this attack, they won't survive either.
There was that. Nick didn't know what to do. He was terrified to use those powers and scared not to, especially since his strength was already starting to fail during the fighting. He wouldn't last much longer in his human body.
Soon, they'd have him.
Maybe this was what Chronus and Tiamat had wanted. A full-blown Malachai. The nightmare beast that didn't care who or what it destroyed. The one that fed on utter misery and destruction.
"Give in to your pain. Not your hatred."
Nick froze at the unexpected deep, masculine voice behind him. That rumbling, thick, lilting brogue would be unintelligible if he wasn't used to taking orders from the Celtic Dark-Hunter Talon. He was the only one who had an accent anywhere near what he'd just heard.
Turning, he saw the shadowed form of a man in the darkness. "Pardon?"
"You want control of your Malachai powers, boyo? Give in to the pain and anger. Never the hatred. Set it aside and let it go. Pain will strengthen you and empower you to do better. To be more than what you are. Your hatred will devour you, and swallow you whole if'n you let it. Give in to your pain. Not your bitter hatred."
He made it sound so easy, but it wasn't.
"I'm not sure I know how to do that."
"Then you'll become the Malachai you fear. You might as well let it go, and become him now. No need in getting your arse kicked any worse than what it is. Why endure the misery of it for another minute, eh?"
Nick cursed as one of the beasts kicked him hard in the ribs and another slashed him across the back. He cut one and stumbled away from the next before he sliced a new attacker.
Groaning in pain, he glared at his wise leprechaun tormenter. "Hey, Lucky Charms Legolas? In the meantime, could you hop your butt over here and help a brother out?"
"I wish. Sadly, I lack corporeal form. Like this, I can't even bleed or spit on them."
Livia hissed at the shadow. "Ignore him, Nick. He's just a puck."
"A what?"
"A puca." She spat the term out as if it was the lowest life form ever created. "A will-o'-the-wisp. They're worthless creatures who were damned and cursed by their gods."
"Or a god of war tricked and trapped here by his own kinsmen who stole his powers after he was stupid enough to trust them." The shadow moved closer to the battle. If he was offended by Livia's attack, he gave no clue of it.
Nick groaned as one of the stone creatures hit him hard and sent him to the ground. He tried to rise, but the earth wrapped around his body and held him down. "Do you know how to fight them?" he asked the puca.
"Yes.... If I had a real flesh-and-blood body, I could defeat them all."
Grimacing and cursing in pain, Nick locked gazes with him as he had a radical idea. It might be crazy, but it was the only one he could think of. "Will you exchange forms with me long enough to take them out?"
The puca cocked a finely arched brow as if he wasn't quite sure he'd heard those words. "You would trust me?"
"If you give me your word, yes."
The puca pulled back and blinked in utter disbelief. "You'd accept me word?" he asked again.
"Yes."
"Don't do it, Nick! You can't trust a puck! They're liars and thieves. All of them! It's what they do!"
Nick ignored her. "I will trust your honor until you give me a reason not to."
The puca hesitated a moment longer before he inclined his head to him. "'Tis a pact then, Malachai, between us brothers. Let me in and I'll ring their blessed bells, till they run weeping home."
Using as little of his Malachai powers as was necessary, Nick swapped his soul with the puck's.
One second, he was on the ground, getting the snot beaten out of him, and in the next, he was the one in the shadows.
Ah, yeah, it felt really good to have a body that wasn't riddled with pain. He could finally draw a deep breath again and not wince or groan from it.
All hail working lungs!
He turned back toward his real body where it was being crushed and bludgeoned by huge, brutish attackers.
Dang, he'd done well to keep them off him. But that was an ugly, ugly sight. And he had no idea how the puca was going to fight them off. For a moment, he fully expected the puca to get them both killed.
Then, with a fierce battle cry and unbelievable dexterity that made a mockery of what Nick could do on a football field, the puck came up from the ground in Nick's body. He swung the Malachai sword and went after the others fast and furious, and with a martial skill Nick envied. A part of him doubted he would ever be that good with a sword.
But then, he wasn't a god of war.
Whoever the puca had been before his banishment, he must have been incredible on a battlefield. 'Cause he still had it. And its evil cousin and all its friends.
In a matter of minutes, the puca had every single attacker scattered and fleeing into the night, begging for mercy and whimpering as they ran.
Yeah, he had rung every bell as promised and found a few in the field no one had seen.
Barely breathing hard, he turned toward Nick and let loose a proud, arrogant smile that said he'd thoroughly enjoyed every second of that brisk fight.
Laying the blade of the sword over his shoulder, he held his hand up before his face and made a tight fist. He kissed it reverently. "I've so missed having a physical body. You just don't know, boyo ... You. Just. Don't. Know."
The anguished joy in his voice concerned Nick greatly. "You are going to give that back, right?"
He met Nick's gaze with a hooded, unfathomable stare. For a second, Nick thought he'd made a bad mistake.
Until the puca held his hand out to him and grinned in friendship. "Aeron, cursed, damned, and forgotten son of the Morrigan. Nice meeting you, Malachai."
Nick tried to shake his hand, only to see just how frustrating it was to be noncorporeal. No wonder Aeron hated it so.
Gah! It sucked!
Aeron snorted good-naturedly before he exchanged places with Nick again.
Nick took a moment to fully appreciate his "skin" and, best of all, nerve endings, before he faced Aeron's ghost form. The puck's skin was pearly white and translucent. Like shimmering moonlight. His pale eyes reminded him of Acheron's swirling silver ones. Even his hair was silvery white and long. He would be pretty but for the masculine jawline and rugged air that clung to him even though he was a ghostly white. His clothes were those of an ancient warlord, complete with a bare, muscled chest that showed battle scars and a stylized Celtic raven tattoo.
Livia gaped at Aeron. "I can't believe you kept your word to return his body."
Aeron raked a less than pleased stare over her. "To you ... I wouldn't have." He inclined his head respectfully to Nick. "You trusted me and that I would never betray. Trust, much like a woman's love and affection, and brotherly friendship, is a sacred thing, and should never be lightly given nor abused nor taken for granted."
Nick shrank his Malachai sword down and returned it to his pocket. "How long have you been trapped here?"
Aeron shrugged. "Time has long lost all meaning to me. But not to you. Come, boyo, and I'll take you to the Nemed."
Nick narrowed his gaze. "How do you know about that?"
A slow, charming grin curved his lips. "I may be weakened, but I do still have some of me powers, and I was just in your body, privy to your thoughts and mission."
Oh, there was that.
Lerabeth finally swooped down to join them. "I am to take him. 'Tis my mission and duty, puca, not yours!"
Nick just loved how she couldn't help with the fight, but could interfere with the help. How typical was that?
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