Infamous

CHAPTER 6

Nick rolled off the bed and grabbed his baseball bat from the corner … yeah, okay, stupid weapon against the paranormal, but it was better than nothing.

In spite of all the symbols and Caleb’s assurances that nothing could breach the sanctity of his room, a mist appeared in the corner closest to the window.

Nick tightened his grip on the wood. Just as he was about to put out the cosmic call for help and go all Louisville Slugger on his intruder, the creature materialized. Tall, shapely, and evil to the core of her soul, she stood on the other side of his bed in a short ruffled skirt, a black leather bustier, and purple leggings. Her red and black hair was pulled into pigtails that were held in place by spiked bands that matched the collar around her neck.

“Good grief, Simi, you scared me senseless.” Nick let out an audible sound of relief as he let the bat slide out of his hands and back to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

She blew out a hard breath that made her bangs fly up as she pouted in irritation. She was even tapping her burgundy Docs on the floor. “Akri done gone off with that dumb old heifer goddess again, and the Simi done got bored sleeping all the time and started twitching, and making Akri jumpy, which makes the old cow-faced heifer grumpy. Which personally, the Simi thinks is great. Anything the Simi can do to rankle the heifer, the better. One day, the Simi gonna eat that heifer, too. No matter what Akri say. Yum. Yum. Or actually, probably more tummy ache than yummy full. But anyways, ’cause the Simi was doing the St. Vitus dance of stir-crazy impatience and thereby Akri was doing the St. Vitus Dance by default, Akri say the Simi could come and visit them bear people to get some good eats. Soooo, the Simi decided to come see her favorite blue-eyed demon boy and since he always being grounded for being stupid, Simi said, hmmm … let’s go check his room, ’cause that’s where he normally is when he’s grounded. And here you are. And now so am I. Hi, akri-Nick.”

Nick rubbed his hand across his face as he tried to make sense of her prattle. But that was the thing about Simi. She seldom made sense. “I’m sorry your dad ditched you for his girlfriend again.” He seemed to do that to her every few months.

Simi shrugged. “It’s okay. Akri more miserable than the Simi is. And he say he come get me as soon as he can. Until then…” She pulled a white bib out of her coffin-shaped purse and tied it around her neck. “You wanna come get eats, too? You the only one the Simi knows who can eat as much as she does.”

“I would love to, Simi, but…”

“Akri-Nick grounded.”

He nodded. “Sorry.”

She sighed heavily. “Don’t be sorry. The Simi’ll eat some for you. Now cheer up. It all be okay.”

“I hope so, Simi.” He really did.

“Trust the Simi. She ain’t never wrong.” She made a kissing noise at him before she vanished.

It wasn’t until then that he remembered something.

Simi never set off the alarms in his home.

Caleb? He used his thoughts to summon his protector.

What? Wow, Caleb sounded put out.

I have a situation here. My walls are glowing and I don’t know why. He’d barely finished that last word before Caleb appeared in front of him.

Without a word, Caleb turned a slow circle as he scanned the room from floor to ceiling.

Nick frowned as he watched him. “What is it?”

“Not sure.” Caleb’s eyes glowed, then glazed over. He spoke in demon tongue with that thick, gravely voice that was made for scaring the life out of people. “They’re coming for you, Nick.”

“Who?”

“Noir. One of his demons found Adarian somehow. I have to go warn your father.”

Nick scowled. “I don’t understand.”

“And I don’t have time to explain,” he growled. “Nekoda! Come, sit on Nick until I return.”

She flashed into the room beside Nick. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll be back.” Caleb vanished.

Nick wasn’t sure he liked this at all. “What’s going on?” he asked, hoping she’d be more forthcoming than Caleb.

“I’m not sure. There’s something probing your perimeter.”

Lovely. Just what he needed. More demons who wanted him dead. “Who is Noir, by the way?”

For once she actually answered his question. “One of the six primal gods. And he’s the one who owns the Malachai.”

Now he fully understood the bone-deep chill. His master was trying to summon him home. “Why hasn’t one of you told me this before now?”

“We were hoping we wouldn’t have to. That we could keep you protected from him.”

“Why?”

“Because you and your father are what fuel him. He gets the majority of his power from the Malachai. Every time you think of him or say his name, you give him a charge. Do you understand?”

Yeah, he did and he hated it. “Even if I’m sleeping and I dream of him, I can charge him?”

“Even if you’re sleeping. That’s why we didn’t tell you. And why scare you when there’s nothing you can do about it anyway?”

For a full minute, he hyperventilated over the thought of being dragged into a hell realm and kept there like a pet. “Where is this … primal god?”

“At the moment, trapped in what’s called the Nether Realm, or more correctly Azmodea.”

The place Ambrose had told him not to go to. “How did he get trapped there?”

“Your father escaped him. And through his demons, Noir has been pursuing him ever since the moment he broke free. But for all of his other faults, Adarian is extremely crafty and has managed to avoid capture. Definitely not an easy thing to do.”

“So the war with the Malachai and Sephiroth—”

“Sephirii. Sephiroth is singular. Malachai is plural too.”

“So I would be correctly called a Malachoth?”

She snorted. “No. You’re always the Malachai, because unlike the Sephiroth, you are an amalgamation of evil. The sum of it all as it were, which is why your name always takes the plural form.”

Wonderful. He was the son of all evil. Just what a guy wanted to hear. ‘Hey, kid? You have pimples. Hair in uncomfortable places. Strange body odors you never had before. A body growing so fast it leaves you completely uncoordinated. You’re socially awkward.

‘And if that’s not enough fun for you, you’re going to morph into the evil Power Ranger and destroy the world.’

Nice.…

“You really know how to cheer a brother up, girl. Thanks. I always wanted to be called the sum of all evil. Makes me so proud I got up this morning.”

Kody shrugged. “Sorry.”

“So tell me more about he who can’t be mentioned by me.”

She sat down on the edge of his bed and he did his best not to let that take his mind to places that could only get him into some real normal boy trouble for once.

No female other than his mom had ever been near his bed before.

Down, boy. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about that.

Yeah, but you have a really hot woman on your mattress.…

And that just didn’t happen to him every day. Demon attacks, yes. Daily humiliation? Double check.

Hot babe on bed?

Never.

Unaware of the havoc she caused him, she toyed with the fringe on his blanket. “It’s really complicated, Nick.” She bit her lip, which really didn’t help the heat in his blood. “At one time, there were six gods who had dominion over the elements of the earth. Three who embodied the positive elements and three who were the negative. On the positive side—Verlyn, who was in charge of vegetation and fertility. He was an earth god and he fed everyone. Cam was the goddess of white and gold. The sun goddess. Her gift was love and light. Then there was Rezar. So beautiful that no one could even look at him without being filled with such lust it would cause them to spontaneously combust. He was the god of fire and passion. Those three were the divine guardians of humanity and the ones who created the Chthonians … beings taken from all sentient life forms on earth. The Chthonians were charged with making sure that none of the gods abused their power.”

“Kind of like a divine police force?”

Kody nodded. “And in all things, there is perfect balance. The gods of negativity are Braith who is essentially a war goddess. Though her color is gray, she is not ambivalent about her place in the dark order. She stands firmly with Noir and Azura against the light gods. She’s the goddess of metals, and was the one who taught mankind how to forge weapons out of the earth’s raw materials so that they could fight each other. Azura is the goddess of water. Seemingly harmless, she lures you in and then drowns you horribly. And lastly…”

“He whose name I cannot say or think.”

She nodded. “ Noir is all things dark and deadly. And the way the story goes, the gods of light, after Braith had taught mankind how to fight and they saw what the future would hold for man and the other sentient creatures, got together and created the Sephirii. They were to be the protectors of man and the consorts of the primal gods.”

Now that was an interesting word. Did she mean what he thought she meant? “Consorts?”

“Lovers.”

Yes, she did. Nick sputtered indignantly. “Ah now, that ain’t right. Why couldn’t I be one of them?” He’d much rather be a divine consort than the instrument of all evil. Definitely sounded like more fun.

Kody patted his hand. “Well, hon, you’d be dead now if you were.”

“No, you said there was one left. One Malachai and one Sephiroth.”

Her face paled. “Trust me, Nick, you don’t want to be Jared. His existence is nothing but pain and utter misery.”

“Oh … never mind.” He had enough of that in his own life. If Jared’s was worse, he’d gladly take evil tool status. “Please continue.” Nick sat down on his bed, but made sure to put a good amount of distance between them. “You left off with the consorts.”

“Noir, Braith and Azura were livid that the light gods had dared create an army to be used against them, so they forged their own to maintain the balance.”

That writing went all over the wall. Up, down, sideways and back. “And eventually, they all had it out.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “That’s the problem with stockpiling weapons. Sooner or later, someone always pulls the trigger.”

Stacking his pillows against his headboard, he leaned back and didn’t mention to her that whenever she spoke about the primal gods, a strange light surrounded her. “You’re related to one of those primal gods, aren’t you?”

She averted her gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“I’d like the truth, for once.”

Still, she refused to look at him. “I can’t give you that, Nick. Not where I’m concerned.”

“And that really bothers me, Kody. What if I did that to you?”

“It would bother me, too. But I would try to trust you and to understand why you were bound to keep secrets.”

He scoffed. “You say that because you’re the one holding the cards and I’m the one wondering if you really are here to protect me … or,” he paused on what concerned him most. People betrayed. Alan had taught him that when he stood over him and cold-bloodedly shot him for refusing to commit a felony. Kyrian’s wife, the woman he had given up an entire kingdom and his inheritance to wed, had ruthlessly handed him over to his enemy to be tortured and executed.

And he would become a Dark-Hunter in a few years because someone would bring about the death of his mother.

Was Kody the one?

“Are you here to ultimately harm me,” he finished, putting it on the table for her to confirm or deny.

Either way, she could be lying and he’d have no way to know for sure. We’re all rats in a maze. Truth isn’t known until we’re fed …

Or dead.

This time, she locked gazes with him. “Have I done anything to make you mistrust me?”

Not technically.

Nick tucked his arms behind his head as he eyed her. “Aren’t you the one who told me that omitting a fact is as good as lying?”

She shook her head at him. “Now I know why you want to go to law school. You’d make a great litigator.”

Yeah, but he didn’t really like arguing or confrontations. Not that he’d ever back down from a fight. That wasn’t in him. Still, he’d rather avoid conflict than seek it out.

If only other people would be kind enough to let him do that. Some days, it seemed like the entire world was on a quest to shove him as hard as it could, and not let him walk away.

“I want to go to law school, Kody, because I don’t like being pushed around. People use a lawsuit as the ultimate threat against other people. I want to be in the position to glare at them and say ‘come get some’ whenever they try it with me.”

She smiled at him. “You are ever, at your core, a warrior.”

And knowing he was the Malachai, it made sense. That was what his people had been created for. But why then, would he rather have peace than war?

“Why do you think my mother chose my father?”

Kody frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nick allowed his thoughts to drift to the one question his mother refused to answer. “I’ve always wondered why my mom, especially as young as she was, would do what she did with a loser like my dad. Why did she sleep with him? I just don’t get it. As beautiful as she is, she could have had anyone. Or better yet, no one until after she graduated high school. Or best of all, not until she got married.” It was his mother, after all. That’s what mom’s were supposed to do, and then only when they wanted kids.

As for himself, while his body was more than willing—a lot and especially anytime an attractive woman was near him—he had no intention of taking that chance while he was still a kid. He knew exactly how hard it was for a teenager to raise a child, and he had enough responsibility on his shoulders. The one thing his mother had drilled into him—You bring an innocent baby into this world, you do whatever you have to take care of it and provide for it.

For that reason, he wasn’t about to sleep with anyone until he was mentally and most of all, financially, ready for the possible outcome of having a wife and baby to support.

“Do you really want the truth?” Kody asked.

“I certainly prefer it to a lie.”

“Then take an honest look inside yourself, Nick, and face the beast you don’t want to know exists. You know your mother. Better than anyone. What do you think happened?”

Nick grew silent as his thoughts went to a place he very seldom allowed them to go. It was so dark and so painful there, that he’d always told himself it couldn’t be. That surely, he was wrong to even suspect it.

But the words were there and they weren’t his. It was like they came from some kind of ancient prophecy or ordinance that had been handed down throughout the ages. “I was conceived in violence to do violence, wasn’t I?”

“The Malachai always is.”

Nick cursed under his breath. Well, at least now he knew what not to do to father his future heir and murderer.

But if that was true … “Then how can she stand to go near him?”

“He’s your father. To her, blood means more than anything else. Blood makes family. And I’m sure if you asked her, she’d tell you that he gave her the greatest gift of her life … you.”

Yeah, some friggin’ gift he was.

Sick to his stomach over the truth, he wanted to puke. His mom deserved so much better than to have been saddled with something like him. From beginning to end, he’d ruined her life.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.”

“You were hurt, Nick.”

And she wasn’t? His hurt feelings were insignificant when compared to what he’d put her through. What he had yet to put her through.

She’s going to die because of me.…

He blinked against the pain that was concentrated at the center of his chest. “That’s no excuse.” He cringed at the horrific reality of his conception. “How can she even stand to look at me?”

“You are her son, Nick. Her flesh and her blood. I told you, in her eyes, that means everything.” Kody raised her hands and formed a shadowy box between them.

Because of his scrying powers, he knew she was opening a window to show him events. But where he used his for the future, she was showing him the past.

He saw his mother screaming in the throes of labor. Just a baby herself, she was in the living room of Menyara’s run-down apartment, where they had lived until Nick was five and the landlord had tossed the guy next door out for nonpayment.

“Make it stop!” she screamed at Menyara.

“Push, Cherise. Push. You can do this, child. He’s almost here.”

She let out a cry so shrill, it echoed in the room, and made Nick cringe at the thought of the pain he’d given her.

Menyara laughed as his mother collapsed on the pullout couch. The baby made a weird gurgling sound, then screamed out at the indignity of being brought into a hostile world.

After wiping him down, Menyara wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to his mother. “He’s beautiful, child … just like his mother. And as perfect as he can be.”

Tears flowed down his mother’s cheeks as she stared at him. “Hello, baby. So you’re the one who’s been making me eat broccoli and cheese with chocolate syrup.” She clutched him to her chest and held him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Menyara brushed a lock of hair off his mother’s cheek. “You want me go and call that adoption lady, cher? She say all you had to do was sign them papers and they’d be happy to find him a good home. They be plenty of parents willing to take him.”

Nick sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth. His mother had never told him that she’d ever considered letting him go.

“It makes him sound like pet to be adopted, doesn’t it?” His mother looked up at Menyara. “But it would be the best thing for him, wouldn’t it?”

Her eyes filled with nothing but love and loyalty, Menyara shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. For you, it would definitely be best, ma petite. Your parents said you could come home if you gave the baby up after he was born.”

His mom glanced around the room that was decorated with Egyptian artifacts and artwork while tears glistened in her eyes that were identical in color and shape to Nick’s. “I’m too young to be a parent. I can’t even drive yet. Can’t legally work or do anything except be a burden to you, and you’ve already been so kind to me. Above and beyond. I don’t know what I would have done had you not taken me in, Mennie. Thank you so much for being so kind and decent.”

And his mother hated being a burden to anyone.

“It has been an absolute joy having you here, Cherise.” She smiled kindly as she cupped his mother’s cheek. “And I don’t mean because you do me laundry and clean me house, girl. Yours is a beautiful soul, and I will support whatever decision you make for you, and for your son.” She dropped her hand to Nick’s head that was covered with dark hair. “The adoption lady say that they were always in need of little boys. There be a long list of parents waiting to take him in and love him like he was their own.”

“But he would never know me,” his mother sobbed. “I could be in a restaurant one day and he could be sitting beside me and I’d never even know he was there. Every time I saw a little boy his age, I’d wonder … is he mine?”

Menyara sat down beside her. “Don’t cry, Cherise. Births are always happy times. You have brought life into this world. Look at him, child. He’s perfect. Beautiful.”

She nodded against Menyara’s shoulder. “He deserves only the best in life.”

“All of us do, child.”

Licking her chapped lips, his mother brushed her hand through his hair. “What do you think they’ll name him?”

“I have no idea, sweetie. But, I’m sure it’ll be a good name.” Menyara reached for him. “Let me—”

“No!” his mother snapped. She buried her face against his chest as he wiggled angrily in protest. “I can’t do it, Mennie. I can’t. He’s my baby. My flesh and my blood. He doesn’t belong to somebody else. I’m the one who’s been talking to him and I’m the one he’s been kicking. How can I let someone else have him now?”

Menyara drew her brows together into a fierce frown. “Are you sure about this, Cherise? Life is hard on everyone. But you keep that baby, and it will stomp on you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

She lifted her head bravely. “It’s going to stomp on me anyway. And I want to be there when it hurts him. I want to be the one who holds him and tells him it’s going to be okay. I won’t be able to give him much. But I can give him a mother who loves him with all of her heart. One who didn’t abandon him the moment he was born so that her own life would be better. He deserves more than that.”

Menyara bit her lip before she spoke again. “You are condemning both of you to a life of poverty.”

“Maybe, but that could happen even if I give him up. My parents threw me out already over something I couldn’t help. What’s to keep them from doing it again? I can’t trust them. I know that now. When I needed them most, they turned their backs on me.” She curled her lip in anger. “You made your bed lie in it.” The way she spat out those words told Nick she was repeating what her parents had said to her. “But I didn’t choose this.” She cringed as if the memory was more than she could take.

“Are you sure about this, Cherise? That baby will always be a terrible reminder of the horrors you’ve been through. Will you not think of it, every time you lay eyes on him?”

She shook her head. “He’s a reminder to me of how strong I am. That I can survive anything the world throws at me. I won’t be a victim again and I won’t be defeated.” She sniffed back her tears. “Look at him, Mennie. That little baby head. Those baby eyes. How can you not love something so adorable?”

Menyara brushed the hair back from his mother’s face again. “He is precious. So what are you going to call him, then?”

His mother’s hand went to the saint medallion she wore around her neck. It was the same one she’d given to him at his confirmation. “Nicholas, after the patron saint of children. My Nicky will be my victory over sorrow. My little champion. And every time I look at him, I will see just how strong I am. Not for me, but for him.”

“And what other name will you give him?”

She smiled proudly. “Ambrosius.”

Menyara screwed up her beautiful face “Ambrosius? Child, why would you ever give him a name like that?” She shivered.

But his mother wasn’t swayed. “It was one of my grandfather’s favorite stories that he used to tell to me whenever I spent my summers with them. And those were some of the best days of my life. I want to share that with my baby. Ambrosius Aurelianus was an ancient Saxon warrior that my grandfather said they called the king of all kings. He was supposedly a sorcerer of great power who protected his people and united a war torn Britain. A real man that time has shrouded in mystery—that’s how my grandpa described him. Some say he was the older brother of King Arthur or Arthur himself or even Merlin. And the name means ‘immortal.’ Two strong, proud names for my perfect son. I can think of nothing better to call him. Nicholas Ambrosius Gautier.”

Menyara let out a low whistle. “Child, he’s going to hate you when he has to learn to spell that in school.”

“True, but at confirmation, he already has his saint’s name. So it serves more than one purpose. I think he’ll like it.” She smiled down at him. “You are going to like it, Mr. Baby. I insist.”

Nekoda closed the window and brought Nick back to the present. “It’s amazing the things we never know about the people we share our lives with, isn’t it?”

Yeah, it was. “I had no idea she’d planned to give me up.” He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had.

Kody swallowed. “Life is about making decisions, Nick. Large and small. Every day and with every breath we take.”

And it was about family. Those you were born to, those born to you, and those you let into your heart. That was how Simi defined it. Ironic really when you thought about it. The best definition of family he’d ever heard, and the only one he agreed with had come out of the mouth of an orphaned demon.

And while Kody’s powers had shown him things about his mother he’d never suspected and confirmed his worst fear about himself, he had a newfound respect for his mother. Through everything she’d gone through, she had never lost her courage or her fire. Neither her dignity nor her ability to find the one bright spot on the dirtiest mirror in the room.

Menyara was right, his mother was a beautiful soul. And if she, a mere human mortal, a child no less, could stand and fight for him, then he stood a chance to become something more than his father.

As Kody said, life was about choices. And his choice was not to be a tool for evil.

He would not become Ambrose.

I am Nicholas Ambrosius Gautier. And I was conceived in violence to fight violence.

Ambrose had fought against it, but he, Nick, would fight harder.

And he would save his mother, even if he had to kill himself to do it.

In raven form, Caleb landed on the sill of Adarian’s cell. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Adarian wasn’t in there. Not that he was surprised. This time of day …

The beast could be anywhere.

Caleb launched himself up toward the sky and circled around the yard, searching for him. It wasn’t until his second pass that he finally spotted his target, sitting on a table all by his fierce lonesome.

It was actually frightening how much Nick looked like his father. Give the boy a couple of years, and they’d be indistinguishable from each other.

Except for their personalities. Nick was most often amusing and, as much as Caleb hated admitting it, endearing, even fun at times. No matter how bad a situation was, Nick could find something amusing about it. On the other hand, Caleb had never once seen Adarian crack a single smile unless it was a cruel one. And the only thing the senior Malachai found humorous was torturing others.

Yeah, they were nothing alike.

Caleb swooped toward Adarian’s white picnic table. Because of Adarian’s murderous nature and cruel tendencies, he was kept isolated from the other inmates. Four guards, shotguns cradled at the ready, stood around Adarian’s area that was separated from the general prison population by a fence topped with razor wire.

Luckily, he could fly right over it and not get cut.

Caleb landed on the table behind Adarian and cawed to let him know he’d arrived.

Adarian released a breath of supreme annoyance. “What are you doing here, Malphas?” he asked in a low tone after he’d covered his mouth with his hand so that the guards wouldn’t hear or see him talking to a bird.

You’ve been found.

“By?”

No idea. Whoever they are, they tried to access Nick’s room. They didn’t get in. But if they found him …

Adarian cursed.

I think it would be best if you left here.

“I’m not going anywhere. They won’t find Nick. Even if they do, they won’t mistake that guttersnipe for me.”

Caleb scoffed. You willing to risk your son’s life on that?

“No, but I’m willing to risk yours.”

Of course he was. Why not? If Caleb died, Adarian could always find another. I will keep him safe.

“Oh, I have no doubt you will. You’ve seen what happens to creatures who disappoint me.”

He’d also seen what happened to people who helped him. Either way, Adarian screwed you.

“Now go and protect him.”

Yes, my lord and tormentor.

Adarian turned to watch Malphas leave. So something had located him. It wasn’t the first time. Five years ago, he’d come close to being captured by one of his enemies. Death had never been an option.

Not until Nick had hit puberty.

Now that brat could take his place as Malachai.

Kirast kiroza kirent. Conceived in violence to do violence and to die violently. That was the promise written in the first language, on the Malachai symbol.

No sooner had that thought gone through his head than he felt his Malachai mark heat up. It was a warning that something from Azmodea was here.

A spark of electricity danced up his spine. Who or whatever it was, was watching him. Not that he cared.

But his end was coming soon. No matter how hard he fought against it, he knew the truth. He could feel it deep inside his bones.

If he didn’t kill Nick soon and absorb his powers, he would have to die. And that he wasn’t about to do. Not now.

He could always breed another son. One more malleable than Nick. One he could control and then kill.

Bitterness rose in his throat as he considered the son he’d only seen a few times. Who would have ever dreamed his wilting waif of a mother would possess a core of strength that was so staggering? Cherise had always been full of surprises.

But then so had he.

One of his guards snapped his head toward Adarian in a manner that was as recognizable as it was ludicrous. Some spirit had possessed the man. Which told him all he needed to know about the pathetic creature watching him.

“Lower forms don’t scare me,” Adarian said to the demon. “Higher forms either. Go home and leave me before I pull your wings off and shove you in a specimen jar.”

The possessed guard glared at him. “You’re the one who’s going to be shoved into a jar. And then we’re going to tear your son apart. Right in front of you.”

Adarian laughed at the fool. “Bring it.”

The demon attacked.

Adarian caught him up against his chest and held him tight. He choked the demon as he spoke to him in their native tongue. “How do you know about my son?”

“Everyone knows. We’ve known about him for centuries.”

Adarian frowned. Centuries? Nick was barely a decade old. What was the imbecile talking about?

“Malachai! Let him go or we’ll shoot!”

Adarian glanced askance at the moron who was interrupting them. “How did you find out about him?” he asked the demon in his arms.

“It wasn’t easy. Zeus took away his emotions. His lack of hatred shielded him from us for a long time. But that ban is weakening and we now know he exists and where to find him. That was sneaky of you, Malachai. Impregnate a goddess. But it won’t work. You will die. If not by me, then by one of my brethren.”

The guards opened fire. Adarian shielded himself with the demon he held. The human part of the guard’s body screamed as bullets pummeled him and sank in deep. Once the guard was dead, the demon pulled out and vanished.

Disgusted, Adarian hissed at the sensation of bullets ripping through his flesh. They wouldn’t kill him. No mortal weapon could ever kill a Malachai. They just hurt.

One of the guards grabbed him and threw him to the ground. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Yeah, right. They had no idea. Any more than they had a way to cause him harm.

But as they handcuffed him on the ground, his thoughts turned to something he’d never suspected before. He had another son out there. One who was grown, who had the blood of two gods flowing through him.

While that son might not have the Malachai powers, he was a god and if Nick were to die.…

Adarian could infuse his other son with enough of Nick’s blood to combine all three.

Oh yeah, this was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Nick’s life was growing shorter by his heartbeat.

And it was time he paid his son a long overdue visit.