His father reached for his throat, but he dodged and twirled to a distance of relative safety. Something greatly helped by the fact that his father no longer had telekinesis.
"Hey! Not my fault Mom pegged me with a name so easy to mock it ought to be banned from children for eternity. You would be amazed at the cruel creativity of people when it comes to mocking someone...." Nick paused as he realized who he was talking to. "Then again, you were probably the ringleader of said tormenting."
"Perhaps I should geld you. It might settle you down."
"Yeah ... no. Besides, pink isn't my color. Clashes with my complexion."
What is your name!
Nick let out an aggravated sigh at that insistent demand in his head. An expulsion that lasted for three seconds until he realized what his summoning name had to be. Oh. No wonder his older self was so cranky. "It's--"
His father clapped his hand over Nick's lips to keep him from speaking it. Then he bent and whispered in a low tone in Nick's ear. "Not Ambrose. It's your Confirmation name."
A creepy chill went down Nick's spine at the coincidence. He'd chosen Aloysius because it'd sounded cool and was semi-close to his middle name, Ambrosius. Not to mention, St. Aloysius was the patron saint of youth and students. As a kid who'd been trying to get into St. Richard's at the time he was going through Confirmation, Nick had thought it an intelligent idea to get on the good side of a saint who might be able to pull some celestial academic strings.
At least that had been the thought back then. Now ...
Nick lowered his father's hand away from his lips so that he could whisper back. "Are you telling me that I picked my own downfall?"
His father snorted. "Trust me, boy. We always do. Every step we take is one inch closer to our salvation and one foot closer to our doom."
That strangely made sense to him. And how weird that he'd instinctively never told anyone his Confirmation name, other than his mother, who never used it. More than that, a mistake had been made on his Sacramental Record and his Confirmation name hadn't been registered. Because his middle name was so unusual, especially given how common his first name was, the secretary who'd done the paperwork had assumed Ambrosius was the name he'd picked, and that was all the church had officially on file for him. When he'd told his mom about the error, she'd started to correct it then stopped herself.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways, Nicky. If He didn't want it recorded, I think we should leave it and trust Him to know what's best for us. Besides, I like the names I gave you, just fine. You already got two great saint names. Why would you need a third one?
Yeah, that was seriously disturbing in retrospect.
Which begged another question ... "How do you know what my Confirmation name is?"
His father laughed evilly. "It's the name I gave you the first time I saw you."
Nick scowled. Aloysius? Really? "Why?"
"It's a name that means fame and war. What better name for my heir to hold?" His father cupped the back of Nick's head in his massive paw of a hand and pulled Nick against his shoulder so that he could whisper in his ear and not be overheard. "You are Conquest, boy. That is your destiny. You are the one who leads the others, and without you, they cannot win. You are the head of the usumgallu, while they are merely the body. Chop off an arm or leg and the creature still walks and fights. But you ... you are the one piece they must have. You are the only thing that Death and War and Bane and the other three generals cannot defeat. Without you, there can be no victory in their endeavors. Ever. That is why the only one who can kill a Malachai is the very son he sires."
Nick's scowl deepened as he tried to understand. "But what of the last Sephiroth?" In the first war of the gods, the Malachai army and the Sephirii had been mortal enemies who had slaughtered each other until only one Malachai and one Sephiroth had been left. Kody had told him that the surviving Sephiroth could kill him.
His father laughed deep in his throat and tightened his arm into something that almost felt like a hug. "Trust me, boy, Jared is no match for you and he knows it. Our blood boils with fury. If he were to attack you, it would be for you to kill him and put him out of his misery."
And if Nick were to do that, it would end his life, too. He and the last Sephiroth were tied together. The ultimate evil and the ultimate good. Yin and yang.
His father patted him hard on his cheek. "That is the only way Jared could possibly kill you. As you said, you pick your own destruction."
"Malachai!"
That feral shout startled Nick.
His father moved away from him. "See how hard your enemies are calling for you? They are desperate to capture you and use you against your own will."
Crouched and ready to battle, Nick turned around slowly, trying to locate whatever was hunting him. "Where is he?"
"Have no fear. He can't reach you here."
Nick straightened up. "Why? Where are we?"
"Nowhere."
Nick scoffed. "Ah, gee, Dad. Thanks so much for that. Like I didn't know that already."
Adarian shook his head. "You misunderstand. This is the nothingness between everything. That minuscule flicker that you can sometimes glimpse right before the dark becomes light. It's the lost place where souls go when they can't find their way home. And this is where you'll be stranded if you don't return to your real body before the usumgallu rides."
That was definitely not comforting, and somewhat confusing for him. "Why ride if they can't win without me?"
He snorted. "War doesn't care if she wins or not. It's about the slaughter. The same is true for Death. Grim wins even when he loses. And while it is nice for them to be on the winning side, it's not necessary. They don't have the same drive to be victorious that you do, because they don't have the same goals. Since we are Conquest, it is not in us to lie down and lose. Not for anything. So long as we breathe, we will fight to win."
Anything worth doing was worth overdoing. One of Bubba's mottos that Nick subscribed to.
It was true. Never give up. Never give in. Never surrender. Toe-to-toe to the bitterest end.
That was the true strength of the Malachai. It was never about the size of the dog in a fight, but rather it was all about the size of the fight in the dog.
And Nick was done running and hiding. He wanted his body back and he was more than willing to battle. Right here. Right now.
"Hey!" he shouted at the voice in his head. "You want my name, boy? Come get some."
His father gaped. "What are you doing?"
He flashed a taunting grin at the older spirit. "I am my best at my worst."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning I'm about to flaunt my stupidity. You might want to take a few steps back, Dad, 'cause I'm pretty sure you're standing in the splash zone, and some of my bodily fluids might spray out on you when he clobbers me."
CHAPTER 16
Closing his eyes, Nick took a deep breath and reached down deep inside himself to tap the powers he barely understood. It was time for this to stop.
Sooner rather than later.
His heart pounded a fierce rhythm. Come on ... work. Surely if he could set Stone on fire in class without trying, he could weasel some modicum of power out of himself with this herculean effort born of stringent Cajun stubbornness and all-out desperation.
Right?
Right!
And despite everything, nothing happened.
Arthritic minutes dragged by as he struggled for the most minuscule ability. Move a hair ... bust a seam. Have a thought. Anything. But the harder he tried, the less he achieved. Like him, it was useless.
Just as he was about to give up, he heard a piercing drone inside his head. Suddenly, the darkness around them seemed to expand and then contract like a rubber band snapping back on him. And in that one moment, his senses sharpened and he saw ...
Everything.
Literally. The entire universe was laid out before him. The Nick he'd replaced in this realm was destined for law school. He
Unable to control the visions that came at him like a supersonic strobe, Nick swung toward his father.
Only he didn't see the fierce beast he knew the man to be. He saw his father much younger, in the hands of their enemy gods. Beaten and branded. Bleeding and chained. Trembling from the weight of his physical agony, his father knelt at the feet of a creature who held no compassion or mercy. "You were born to serve us, Malachai. Never forget who owns your life. Who you answer to."
Noir--the god Nick couldn't even mention by name without feeding his powers--savored his control over the Malachai. And he was aptly named. His hair was blacker than Caleb's and his eyes were so dark it was hard to see where the iris stopped and the pupil began. Laughing, Noir fed from Adarian, draining his powers until the Malachai could no longer support his weight even on his knees. He hit the ground and lay in a defeated lump with tears streaming from the corners of his eyes while he begged silently for death. It was how all Malachai had been kept since the dawn of time, and it was what had made them so lethal and brutal. A weapon of ultimate massacre.
Instead of being treated like people, they'd been kept as animals and trained to kill on command. The more feral and afraid of their masters they were, the better. That was why Nick's Thorn and Caleb had been so determined to keep Nick from Noir's grasp. They knew exactly what the primal god would reduce him to before he unleashed Nick onto the world to end it.
More and more images came, faster and faster, clearer and clearer, but the most disturbing were the ones of Nick himself, in the future, destroying the very world that had birthed him. The world Kyrian and Acheron fought every night to protect. Lost and abandoned by everyone, Nick, too, had turned on humanity. All he wanted was to end his own pain.
The only way to achieve that was nuclear-level devastation of the entire planet.
I am the Malachai. The end of all things. Spawned for no other purpose than to bring down the primal light gods and serve Noir, Azura, and Braith--the originators of darkness and death--in any way they demanded. All of his species were born to suffer. And there could be no escape.
Throwing his head back, Nick roared with the weight of a destiny he wanted no part of.
I will not become that monster!
His body began to spasm and seize up, until he no longer had control of it. His teeth chattered so hard, he was amazed they didn't shatter. The darkness slithered over him like a deadly boa constrictor. It wrapped itself around his limbs and climbed up his chest, squeezing him ever tighter.
"You will always be mine," it whispered to him before it licked his cheek.
Adarian pulled back from Nicholas as he realized what was happening. Each of the primal gods had an element they controlled completely.
In all realms.
Somehow Noir had located Nicholas in this one. And he was using the darkness to reach the new Malachai and claim him. To bring him home. If Adarian didn't do something, the boy would be sucked straight into Noir's greedy hands.
A slow smile curved his lips at the thought. It would serve Nicholas right to know the horrors Adarian had survived. The little punk had no idea what real humiliation and pain were. He thought his pampered life was hard....
He had no concept.
Nicholas had never tasted true brutality. Degradation. He had no idea what it was like to be surrounded by creatures who lived to break you. Creatures who could only feel pleasure while they drove pain into every molecule of your body.
It's what you deserve. Suffer and choke on Noir's kindness, just as I had to.
But as those words wrung smug satisfaction from him, he saw in his mind the first time Cherise had brought Nicholas to meet him. After what he'd done to her, he'd voluntarily returned himself to human prison so that he would never again be tempted to harm her. He'd been convinced that she would rather die than ever stand for his presence in her company.
Until he'd been told he had a female visitor. Assuming it was Laguerre--his primary general--with some kind of mischief she wanted to start, he hadn't thought much about it.
Bored and irritated, he'd gone into the common room and scanned the rough occupants. At first, his gaze had swept over the crowd as he sought the dark-haired demon who lived to torment anyone unlucky enough to stumble upon her. Moving fast, he'd barely registered the terrified blonde in a very sedate, over-large blue sweater and jeans.
Then his brain had kicked in with recognition. He'd snapped his attention back to Cherise, who sat at a table in the back, looking tiny, delicate, and petrified. When her gaze had met his, it froze him to the spot. For a full minute, he'd been unable to breathe. Somehow in the last two years, he'd forgotten how beautiful she was. How very precious.
As she'd done on the day they met, she'd stolen his heart. That hesitant, sweet glance had gone straight inside him and gutted him where he stood. A part of him had wanted to run to her and kiss her. But he knew she wouldn't welcome his touch. Not after the nightmare he'd put her through.
For the first time in his entire existence, he'd been unsure of himself. Scared even. His hands had actually trembled as he made his way over to her.
He'd been almost on top of her before he realized she wasn't alone. Asleep in her lap was a small human child. Completely baffled by that, Adarian couldn't imagine why she'd have brought a toddler to such a place. That wasn't like her.
Swallowing hard, he'd pulled out the chair across from her and taken a seat. For several awkward minutes, neither of them had spoken. Instead of looking at him, she'd kept her gaze on the sleeping toddler to the point he'd been ready to kill it for distracting her.
Then those blue eyes had glanced up and held him spellbound again. When she'd parted her lips to speak, he'd wanted her to declare her undying love for him.
Yet before she could do so, that puny, wretched creature awakened and started bawling.
"Shh, Nicky," she'd breathed in that dulcet tone that had never failed to weaken him. "C'est si bon, Boo." And just like Adarian, the boy had been soothed instantly. With a bright, dimpled smile, the small creature had pulled himself up to stand in her lap. Kissing the boy's chubby cheek, Cherise had attempted to tame the riotous dark brown curls that were rumpled from his nap. The toddler had laid his head down on her shoulder and buried his hand deep in her blond hair while he bounced on his chubby legs and laughed. Adarian had sneered at the child, who seemed to mock him with the fact that he could hold Cherise while Adarian was forbidden to touch her at all.
After kissing his cheek again, she'd wrapped her arms around the child protectively, holding him tight to her as she bravely locked gazes with Adarian and expelled a heavy breath. "Adarian ... meet your son, Nicholas Ambrosius."
Those unexpected words sucker-punched him. In all his wildest imaginings, the thought that they could have had a child together that would survive past its infancy had never dawned on him. He'd assumed the infant she'd carried was long dead and buried. But this ...
"My son?"
She'd nodded as tears glistened in her eyes. "He was born just over a year ago ... but don't worry, I expect nothing from you. And neither of us expects you to be a dad to him. I just didn't feel right not telling you that he was here. I'm sure one day, he'll have questions about you, and I don't want to lie to him."
The Malachai anger inside him had boiled, wanting the innocent blood of the boy in her arms. He'd started to call her a liar until he realized that his powers had done the impossible.
They'd waned.
Something that inside a human prison filled with absolute evil should never happen to him. The only way for him to lose any power at all was for his son to be near him.
No, not his son.
His heir.
It wasn't unusual for Malachai to have children. That had happened throughout history. But the children never survived for very long. A week or two. Maybe a month. Not unless they were to be the new Malachai. The one who would kill the father and take his place.
Unbeknownst to her, Cherise had birthed his doom.
Horrified by his obvious future, he'd watched the way she'd cuddled her child and he'd hated Nicholas for that love she bore him. For the gentle way she soothed him while Nicholas had buried his mouth against her chin and blew bubbles.
When the boy had turned to him and reached out, Adarian had recoiled from him. He had no intention of touching that creature. Not unless it was to end its life.
Now that tiny, putrid beast had almost grown into manhood. In their realm, Nicholas stood eye-to-eye with him.
And while Adarian still hated Nicholas with every part of his being, he knew that Cherise loved this child, this putrid part of him, with all her heart. His loss would devastate her.
That was something Adarian couldn't allow.
Growling, he knelt on the ground and reached to save the brat. "Boy!"
Nick couldn't respond as something choked him even harder than before. Was his father still trying to kill him and regain his place as the single Malachai?
His vision dimmed more. Just as he started to black out, he was jerked from the floor and slammed against granite. Someone slapped at his cheeks.
"Nicholas? Can you hear me?"
What was crushing him? Nick blinked slowly as the pain and pressure receded. Coldness brushed his cheek with a tender caress.
"Speak to me, boy!" It was only then that Nick realized that the granite crushing him was his father's muscles. The elder Malachai was holding him and it was his father's hand he felt stroking his face.
Yeah, right. The devil was eating ice cream from his own hand and sitting on icicles. That was the only way for his father to be this nice to him. It just wasn't possible. Not unless pigs were flying around the moon, and cats were building homes for dogs.
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