Invision (28 page)

“What about it?”

“Do all Legolas banshees have them as weapons?”

Scowling, she tilted her head to speak to Aeron in Welsh. “What's a Legolas and is he meaning to be insulting?”

“Nae, he's attempting to be charming. Not so much with Legolas, but even that's more teasing than mean. Though he be the Malachai, he's not a cruel beast. He's truly trying to come to an understanding of what you really are. And speaking of, as the Malachai, he understands your Welsh so it does you no good to switch to it in front of him, as he knows every word we be saying.”

“Oh…” Vawn turned back to study Nick for a minute.
“That's
the Malachai, is it?”

Nick feigned a deep chest wound at the way Vawn said that. “Now who's insulting who?”

Vawn held her hands up. “No insult meant … exactly. You're just not what comes to me mind with that word. At all.”

“Especially given the animals where we've been kept.”

Nick went over to Zavid and held his hand out to him. “You've no idea how worried I've been since they told me what happened to you. I'm so sorry.”

“Aeron told me.” Gratitude glowed in his eyes. “Thank you.” Zavid looked around at everyone in the room. “All of you. I didn't think I'd ever get away from Noir.”

Caleb approached him and pulled the collar back from his black shirt to examine his neck. For what, Nick had no idea. But it was obvious, he was hunting for something in particular on Zavid's skin. “How did he get ahold of you to begin with?”

“Livia. Bitch threw me to him. I was protecting her one minute and the next.…” His eyes flashed red. “If I ever get the chance to return the favor, I will open her throat and bathe in her blood.”

Nick felt awful for him. He could only imagine how badly they'd mistreated him, especially given the horrors he'd seen Zavid suffer while held in Hel proper. “Why didn't your sister tell us where you were?”

“They destroyed her soul.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “For that I will kill Grim one day. This is now a personal war for me. And I won't rest until I make sure he feels my full wrath.”

Caleb clapped him on the back and stepped away.

Xev arched his brow at him.

His gaze sincere, Caleb inclined his head. “He's clean and telling the truth. Our father got him away without a mark. He's ours again, free of their powers.”

Zavid gaped at them. “Verlyn's your father?”

“Yeah.”

Vawn winced. “I hated to leave that one behind, I did. Never did I think to feel sorry for one of his ilk. But we owe him everything. He put himself to the hazard for us and fell back to take the full brunt of punishment from
Y Tywyllwch
.”

“Tho?” Kody asked.

“The Mavromino,” Nick answered absently, though how he knew … well, he knew
how
he knew, it just still stunned him whenever his powers allowed him to comprehend languages he'd never studied before. “Is there any way to free him?”

They shook their heads in unison.

Caleb clapped him on the shoulder. “There are some problems not even the great Malachai can solve.”

“Not helping.”

Neither was the fact that Menyara repaired her door by holding her hand out, muttering in the primal language, and it reassembled as if nothing had happened to it.

Oh to be able to command the elements like
that.

Nick pouted at her. “You could have done that
before
the monsters gave your favorite Boo a cardiac arrest, Aunt Mennie.”

Cupping his chin in her hand, she snorted at him. “There is much here that isn't right.”

“You think it could be tied to the deaths of the Squires?”

Menyara froze at Nick's question. “What deaths?”

“Ash and Kyrian were talking about it. There's been a bad outbreak in Squire deaths. They assumed it was from Daimon attacks.”

“Or something worse.” Menyara held her hand out. An old book came flying off her shelves to hover in the air before her. Using her powers, she flipped through it. “I think we're dealing with a Dîv.”

Caleb let out a nervous laugh. “They're extinct.”

“
Supposedly,
” Menyara mumbled.

Nick was sure he had the same look of tasting bile on his face that Xev, Kody, and Caleb wore. “Aunt Men, I think I can speak for the whole group here when I say we don't like that word. Not that I know what a Dîv is, but your tone says that whatever it is, it sucks to be human whenever one's around.”

“Nice summation. And also very true.” Caleb stepped closer to the book. “But it would make sense. A Dîv would drain your powers. Require human flesh to sustain itself…”

“And would have imprisoned me in the same realm their leaders were once banished to.”

Nick's jaw went slack. “You were banished with them?”

She nodded slowly as Xev cursed.

They all looked at him.

“The body in the store that didn't decay? The one we fed to Simi? If that was a Dîv…”

Caleb turned pale. “We didn't destroy his soul. It would be intact wherever he had it hidden.”

Xev nodded. “And with it intact, he could take possession of her.”

Appearing as sick as Nick suddenly felt, Kody groaned at the sound of those words. “Are you telling me that we gave a Charonte to a Dîv?”

“We have to find Simi.”

“Wait!” Nick grabbed Caleb's arm as he started for the door. “For those of us informationally challenged … hello? What exactly is a Dîv?”

“One of the scariest, most lethal classes of demon.” Caleb passed a pained stare to Menyara. “They are a special nightmare. Like parasites, they're drawn to other powerful demons and gods. Once they find them, they can drain them and use their powers, similar to a siphon, except they don't have to make physical contact. They just have to be within a few hundred yards. Then they move into the host and make him or her their bitch.”

“You think it's what got Nashira and Dagon?”

“Maybe.” Xev sighed. “I wouldn't put anything past one. They were a vital part of the Mavromino army, since it's hard to kill an army made up of the faces of dead loved ones.” He passed a gimlet stare to Caleb.

“You're
never
going to let me live Zykesh down, are you?”

“No. You annihilated my entire army—right down to slaughtering all the city's chickens.”

Caleb rolled his eyes until he saw the horrified gape on Kody's face. “My men were hungry after the battle.”

“And used the bones of my men for skewers to roast those chickens.”

“It seasoned the meat while it cooked—gave it a nice … okay, I can see your point. Your anger
might
have some merit.”

Kody finally managed to close her mouth. “So what I'm hearing is that we owe a huge debt to Lilliana for pulling Caleb out of play for a time and taming him down a bit?”

“Yes,” Xev said. “By removing Malphas from battle, it allowed us to gain the upper hand. He was one of their few generals who could and would strategize. And my brother knew exactly how to maximize damage. And hit you hardest where it did the most damage.”

“Yeah, but Lil was right. I was a lot deadlier when I fought to protect her and her people, than I was while I fought because I was pissed at my father and wanted to get back at him.”

“Indeed. Mal was the only commander we ever had who led his troops against the Dîv, and not only survived the battle—he won.”

Nick arched a brow at him. “How'd you do it?”

“A Malachai sword will kill them and they're attracted to powerful enemies. We lined up our strongest and armed them with Malachai swords.”

“How'd you get Malachai swords?”

“Trophies,” Kody whispered. “Whenever a Sephiroth kills a Malachai, he or she takes the sword as a trophy of their skill. It's a badge of honor for them.”

Caleb nodded. “Back then, there were Sephirii who had decorated their entire rooms with those swords.”

Nick curled his lip at the thought of such a grisly thing. Not that it was
that
grisly. Just that he would have probably been one of those Malachai they were so proud of killing.

Aeron moved to squeeze Nick's shoulders. “If only we knew where to lay hands upon one of those swords, eh, mate?”

Nick snorted as he saw where this was heading. “So I'm the sitting duck … now there's a big surprise. Y'all might as well cover me with Mark's duck urine while you're at it, too.”

Xev made an annoyed “heh” sound.

Ignoring them both, Caleb continued. “And we have to pull a Dîv out of a Charonte.” He crossed himself.

“Dude, you're not Catholic.”

“No, but much like Clovis, to win this round, I'm willing to convert.” Caleb took a deep breath. “All right, crew. Let's go find Simi and try not to die.”

“Let's do it.” Nick clapped his hands together to encourage them. “Should I ask for our odds of survival?”

“No!” they all shouted at Nick in unison.

“Okay,” he said slowly as his ulcer came back with friends. “To certain death, dismemberment, and undignified screams, let us march!”

 

CHAPTER 17

Nick hesitated on the street, not too far from Menyara's store. “Are you sure this'll work?”

Caleb nodded as he took Nick's sword. “You didn't have your powers earlier. It's why the Dîv didn't try to possess you, then. Now, it'll sense them and leap. When it does…” He held the sword up pointedly.

Then collapsing it, he handed the hilt to Nick who slid the sword into his pocket.

As he did so, Nick froze. A peculiarly surreal sensation engulfed him. No, not engulfed.

Slapped. Like an enemy with an iron gauntlet that had just laid open his cheek to challenge him for a duel.

It felt like an out-of-body experience. As if something had jerked his soul from his body to hover over himself, and he was looking down at a stranger in one really tacky shirt. For the first time, he really saw himself as others did.

Taller than most, he was still a gangly kid whose body fit the same as a child trying to walk in their parents' shoes. Yeah, he faked it. Nick would never let anyone know just how insecure he truly was about every aspect of his personality and looks.

At the end of the day, he couldn't deny the feelings of inadequacy that forever stalked him like a hungry Daimon out to shred his soul. The never-ending terror that Nick wouldn't live up to being the man he wanted to be.

Worse, that he really was the monster demon he'd been bred to become. That the Malachai would emerge and tear down everything his mother had tried to teach him. Shred all the humanity inside him until he no longer cared who he hurt.

Nick's mind went back to Kyrian talking to him about
The Iliad
for class. “Life is always about choices, Nick. Sometimes we make them for selfish reasons. Sometimes we make them for others. Sometimes we run from them and sometimes they're forced on us against our will. Paris could have left Helen alone, regardless of what the goddesses had promised him. Hector could have given up his brother and saved his kingdom. Achilles didn't have to withdraw from battle out of spite. Patroclus didn't have to put on Achilles' armor to inspire their forces. Nor did Achilles have to kill Hector knowing that when he did so, it would mean his own death. Was it Helen's choice to go with Paris to Troy? She could have stayed in Sparta, and when Troy fell, she could have killed herself rather than return with the husband she'd originally fled.… Where is that line of free will and what is preordained by the gods? Do we choose our lives or are we merely pawns to some higher game we know nothing of?”

In that moment, the fog began to clear and Nick started understanding the significance of pith points and free will.

I am the master of my own destiny and it is one screwed-up mess that I've made of it …

And as he looked around at Caleb and Xev, a new respect for them rose up inside him. Like Kyrian, they'd been handed a raw deal by life. Both of them had made sacrifices for others and paid a bitter price.

Would it have been worse had they acted selfishly? That was what Kyrian had done. He'd taken the selfish route and his life had turned out no better.

If anything, his was worse. While Caleb and Xev had lost their hearts, it'd been through the actions of others who had taken what they loved. To the end, their wives had been loyal to them.

Kyrian's tragedy had been through the betrayal of the woman he'd given up everything for. She had carved his heart out and handed it to him.

Pith points.

Yet his friends had stood up through the rubble of their annihilated lives, dusted themselves off, and carried on with a resolute strength Nick couldn't fathom. Undaunted. Indefatigable.

Just like his mother.

And for them, he would fight the Malachai darkness inside him. Just like they had. Just like they continued to do every day of their lives.

Every great legend begins with that one person who raises an angry fist to the sky and flips off the gods in defiance.

Acheron was right.

And that was what Nick had been doing since the moment he came into this world as a sick baby. Defying the odds. Defying expectation. Defying authority.

Defying his destiny.

And he had no plans to change his ways now. He knew no other way to be. “All right. Point me to the hell-monkeys. It's time to make them my bitches.”

“Excuse me?” Kody gaped at him. “Your mother would be horrified.”

“Probably. Most of what comes out of my mouth horrifies her.” He gave her an adorable grin. “I have to admit, it surprises and embarrasses me, too, most days.”

Laughing, she gave him a quick kiss. “And that's why the good Lord made you so adorably cute. Otherwise the impulse to drown you would override all others.”