Invision (18 page)

Against orders, training, and protocol, he'd left his sword and shield on his horse. Honestly, he was too disgusted by war at this point to look at them. The last thing he'd wanted was the weight of what he'd done on his chest, and the reminder of the lives he'd taken earlier to save his own while he laid these innocent civilians to rest.

And as each hour passed and he carried another child or its mother in his arms, it was taking everything he had not to run to his horse and ride home to his father and admit that his father had been right.

He wasn't a soldier. War was horrible and awful, and all the things his father had warned him of. Kyrian wanted nothing to do with a soldier's life, after all. He wanted nothing more to do with the slaughter and brutality. All he craved now was his old bed and the comforts of home.

Only his wounded pride kept him from running. That and the fact that his father would never let him live it down. Never see him as anything more than a petulant, spoiled boy who had failed to stand by his hotheaded decision that he'd made because he'd thought only of the fame it would bring him.

How could you ever stand and lead a kingdom if you aren't man enough to see your decisions through? Good or bad, once you decide, the consequences will always be yours, alone, to live with. So think through all outcomes, son. And make sure you understand the course it will force you to walk, and that you're willing to make that journey and see it through to the end. Good, and especially bad.

And so Kyrian forced himself to swallow his gall and bile, and continued to prepare the dead even though he feared he'd never sleep or eat again.

“Boy!”

Kyrian had frozen in place as he reached for the body of a young girl.

Dimitri, their burly second-in-command had stormed toward him. “Where's your armor? Your sword?”

Straightening, Kyrian had tried to think of a reasonable explanation that wouldn't result in a whipping for violating their orders. Unfortunately, there wasn't one.

“Did you not hear me?”

Swallowing hard, he gestured toward their pitched tents. “It's with my horse, sir. On the edge of camp.”

Furious, Dimitri grabbed Kyrian's crimson exomis in a tight fist and snatched him forward. “We're at war, boy! You do not abandon your equipment to a place where you cannot reach it should we come under attack, or where thieves or enemies could steal it. Is that your desire? To arm your enemies so that they can cut your throat with your own arms? I'll have you whipped for this! Maybe next time you'll remember.”

As Dimitri dragged him toward the tents, a deep resonant commanding voice rang out. “Halt!”

Kyrian almost wet himself as he recognized Julian of Macedon's restrained fury. As their commander and the famed son of a goddess and legendary Spartan hero, he was the warrior no one wanted to cross or anger. Even though Kyrian's father had placed him under Julian's direct protection, Kyrian had done his best to stay out of his sight, and away from his notice as Julian was the one person in this army who could kill him with impunity.

For that matter, his comrades would probably applaud Julian for his murder since they couldn't stand Kyrian anyway.

But he refused to let Julian know he was intimidated as he closed the distance between them.

Forcing himself to lift his chin, he met his commander's gaze without flinching. After all, he was a prince of Thrace. Whatever punishment he had coming, he'd take it with every fiber of regal bearing he possessed.

Julian didn't even glance in his direction as he came to rest a few feet away. His ire was for Dimitri. “Release him. There's been enough blood spilled today. Let the boy alone.”

“Seriously, Commander? Prince or not, he needs to learn his place.”

Julian's expression turned to stone. “Are you questioning my orders, soldier?”

That sent Dimitri scurrying away in terror, out of Julian's line of sight, and more importantly, his reach.

His throat tight, Kyrian bravely met Julian's gaze. “Thank you for your mercy, Commander. I won't leave my armor off again, I promise.”

Julian had inclined his head to him. “If it makes you feel better, Highness, I threw up in battle my first time, too. I even pissed myself, and I was Spartan born and trained. Don't let the others get to you. You showed a lot of courage on the field today, and stood your ground at times when I've seen far more experienced soldiers fall or worse, turn and flee.”

Ashamed, but grateful for Julian's uncharacteristic compassion and unexpected understanding, Kyrian had looked away. “Does it ever get easier?”

Julian had further stunned him by offering him a drink from his own wineskin. “Yes. But the day you can walk into battle and coldly take the life of another without feeling anything for that man and the future you've just robbed him of is the day you should dread most, not one to be anticipated. What we do, while necessary, is an evil, young prince. And it is a course that should never be taken lightly or served with glee. Rather, one always walked with reverence and full knowledge of the cost to every soul it touches. For the one truth of all fights, no matter how small, is that everyone walks away forever mired by it, and with bloody hands.”

Those words echoed in Nick's head as he saw the sickening devastation around him.

It was a lesson Kyrian forever harped on with him.

Now, he understood why. But he didn't understand why he was seeing it
right now
when he needed to be attentive elsewhere. Any more than he comprehended what was causing the visions to come to him in the first place.

There was something important about them. That much he knew. His brain wouldn't be coughing them up otherwise. It was some part of his residual Malachai powers trying to warn him of something.

Yet they were more frustrating than Nashira's old riddles. And they made even less sense. Something he would have never thought possible.

Shaking his head, he focused his sight on Simi's daughter and Xev. She was still staring at Xev as if debating whether or not she should battle him. Which would be a huge mistake. As powerful as she was and even though Xev had a lot of his powers restricted and bound, it didn't alter the fact that he remained one of the best fighters Nick had ever seen.

He'd put Xev up against anyone.

Even a fully charged Malachai.

She lifted her chin and sniffed at the air. “You're of the Source? Why would you protect
him
?” She jerked her chin toward Nick and used a tone that implied he hadn't bathed …

Ever. And that he'd recently fought and lost a match with a herd of polecats.

Though actually, that might be better applied to Xev since he was the one she could supposedly smell.

But Xev ignored the obvious insult. “Because he's not the one you're after and we're here to get answers.”

Suddenly, another demonic screech sounded.

She glanced up at the dark sky, then disengaged Xev and ran toward the smoldering remains of the cathedral.

Oh, that can't be good.

If whatever made that sound sent her into flight on foot …

It had to be a winged Godzilla heading for them. Or something even worse. And if it was worse, Nick definitely didn't want to meet it out in the open.

Not without some kind of supercharged weapon.

As more screeching sounded, Xev took his arm and pulled him after her.

His heart lodged painfully in his throat, Nick followed the path Simi's daughter had taken. He saw her just up ahead.

“What happened here?” he called out to her as they ran down the alley and jumped over large broken pieces of pavement.

She cast a menacing glare at him over her shoulder as she dodged someone's charred body, and kept moving. “You should know. Your army did this.”

“Not.
My.
Army.” Frustrated, Nick groaned out loud as he saw even more flaming wreckage and bodies that turned his stomach and made bile rise in his throat.

New Orleans had been turned into an all-out war zone.

Ambrose hadn't been kidding. This was unlike anything Nick had ever imagined. No wonder he'd been so freaked out that he'd sought to go back in time to stop it from happening.

His head spinning, he glanced at Xev who was pulling up their rear. “What makes me do this?”

It didn't make sense. At this point in time, his mother would have been dead for centuries. Malachai temper or not, he should have moved past it. “What's my catalyst for going hog wild on the world?”

Something profoundly bad had to have happened to make Ambrose strike out like this. Why would he continue to think it was his mother's death that caused his anger and wrath to break?

It just couldn't be that simple.

Could it?

As they headed down Pere Antoine Alley toward Royal, a huge demon rose up from the smoke with blazing eyes. Letting loose a fierce war cry and burst of blue hellfire, it flew at them, snapping and sizzling in the air that was rife with static electricity. The stench of sulfur and smoke hung thick in Nick's throat, making it hard to breathe.

More demons exploded from the air around the first, ready to attack and eat anything they saw.

As did a group of heavily armed humans who came spilling out of the old Ethel Kidd Realty building. Between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, and armed with flame-throwers and demon-grenades, they all appeared to be graduates of the Bubba and Mark's School of the Zombie Apocalyptic Survivalists.

It wasn't until Simi's daughter ran to the humans to fight with them and half the demons turned to be caught between the humans and a group of demons behind them that Nick realized this had been a staged trap that she'd led them into.

Strategic explosions rained down searing debris and shrapnel over the demons that forced him and Xev to take cover in the shelter of the church's crumbling alcoves. Bubba would definitely be proud. And Nick was most decidedly impressed with their ingenuity.

Until they began to attack him and Xev. Then he lost his respect for their abilities.

Xev pulled him back to protect him. “Whoa! Allies! We're on your side.”

They didn't buy into it.

Not until the largest demon on Team Humanity went for Xev's throat and one of the humans grabbed his arm to stop him from taking Xev's head. She held him back with a determined grip. “Lucy! Stop!”

Hissing, the red-and-gold-fleshed demon glared at the attractive young woman who was probably a year or two older than Nick. His red eyes telegraphed fury and another emotion that appeared to be concern, which made no sense whatsoever.

With long, wavy dark hair, the woman reminded Nick of Caleb for some reason.

“Are you insane?” the demon snapped between his clenched fangs.

Her breathing labored, she gestured at Nick with her sword. And she stared at him as if he were some forgotten memory that she'd buried because it'd been too painful to remember. “That's not Cyprian come for us. He's my father … it's … it's Ambrose.”

 

CHAPTER 10

Okay, forget how shocking the Simi-had-a-daughter declaration had been …
this
was absolutely
the
last thing Nick had expected a girl to say to him.

Ever in his entire lifetime.

He couldn't have been more stunned had she declared herself pregnant with his child.

Never mind the fact that she was physically older than he was, and he'd only been driving a car for a year on his own. And not particularly well, he might add. Or that he'd never slept with a woman, period, so the concept of being anyone's father was just a little weird and impossible on every level imaginable.

For that matter, his mom barely allowed him to watch R-rated movies. And even when she did, she guilted the snot out of him, and then made him go to confession for it.

Only to have Father Jeffrey laugh at him for confessing something so mild.

Yeah, his future therapists would thank her mightily for that psychological damage.

Still … why should he allow logic to interfere with this bizarre reality? 'Cause he was
really
freaking out right now … like a hyperactive squirrel that had just awakened in a dog kennel of T-virus-infected hellhounds hyped up on Red Bull and steroids in the heart of Raccoon City.

“I'm the who, what?”

A slow smile curved her lips. “You're my father.”

The demons shot fire-bolts at them.

Cursing and dodging, they turned to rejoin the fight.

His “daughter” shot a blast at her assailants, then rushed to Nick's side with a laugh before she practically tackled him with a hug. “I can't believe it's you! That you're finally back. I've missed you so much!” Tears swam in eyes that were identical to his.

Eyes that he realized were identical to his mother's now that she was closer to him.

“You said you'd find a way to return. But dang, Dad, you're only half grown and about half the muscle mass of the scary demon I'm used to. Where's Mom? Did you find her?”

Nick's mouth worked, but no sound would come out as she hugged him again. She'd struck him speechless, which was a hard, hard thing to do. “What's your name?”

Releasing her hold, she took his question like a slap in the face. She even recoiled from him. “You don't know me?” A tear fell down her cheek before she glanced back to the others who continued to fight the demons, oblivious to what he was saying.

He felt terrible for having hurt her feelings. But … he was still in shock over this.

Xev ran back to them. “Nick, we've got a
huge
problem.”

“Yeah. You could say that…”

With a fierce growl, the demon his daughter had called Lucy landed on the ground in front of Nick and blasted him with his powers.

The blow would have sent Nick careening, had his daughter not blocked it.