Cyprian froze as a strange sensation went up his spine.
“Is something amiss, my lord?”
He cut a stinging glare to his obsequious minion. With greasy brown hair, and pock-marked skin, the slug demon was repugnant enough. That nasal tone only grated his nerves all the more. To the point, it was all he could do not to rip its head off and feast upon its organs. “Where’s my mother?”
“In her war room.”
He snorted at the pun given the fact that his mother was Laguerre … an ancient battle-goddess who didn’t so much as invent the art of war as she’d perfected it.
It was what she lived for. Blood. Mayhem. Utter and extreme violence. Those were her happy, go-to places.
Like him.
Reversing his course, Cyprian headed for the paneled study that held some of the deadliest artifacts in the known universe. Ancient artifacts that currently included his mother and her ex-husband, Grim.
Cyprian hesitated in the shadows of the doorway as the two of them poured over some matter with great intent. They were ever plotting against someone—many times for no other reason than they’d been given the wrong order at the local coffee shop.
Since his mother was a goddess, she didn’t appear more than a few years older than his teenaged body. But her beautiful, young looks were definitely deceiving.
As were Grim’s.
Much like Cyprian’s mother’s long languid movements that belied her quicksilver lethality. She’d deceived many fools to their graves with her slowness. They never realized just how swift she was to anger or stab.
Until it was too late.
Her dark hair fell to her waist in thick waves. It was a stark contrast to Grim’s lighter shade and stocky, muscled body. Together, the two of them had once led armies over the ancient world, destroying everything and everyone they came into contact with.
Good times that.
And why not? They were ancient gods of War and Death—the original riders who’d brought those concepts to the world of man and demon. Turmoil and chaos were what they lived for and what they both sought with every breath they drew forth into their not-so-human bodies.
Some thought that only Death could defeat War.
But Cyprian would take odds on his mother winning any fight between the two of them. She was vicious that way. Not to mention, she cheated.
They paused mid conversation to stare at him.
“Is something wrong?” his mother asked, making no attempt to hide her annoyance over Cyprian’s interruption. Which made sense, given that she could barely stand her son and had never glossed over that fact for anyone’s benefit.
Especially not Cyprian’s. Indeed, she’d gone out of her way to toughen him up with insults and degradations to ensure that his skin was thicker than any tank brigade on the planet. At the rate she’d set fire to his more tender feelings, he should have bought stock in flame retardant Kevlar.
“Do you not feel it, Mother?”
Laguerre hesitated before she punched at Grim. “He’s right. We’ve been discovered.”
Rubbing his arm where a bruise was no doubt forming from her blow, Grim shook his head. “Not possible. Besides, look again. It’s just another nosy zeitjäger who’s uncovered our most recent actions. Ignore him and he’ll go away. Or we’ll kill him if he pursues it. Either way, it’s of no consequence to us. I wouldn’t spend three seconds worrying over it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Cyprian’s gut remained tight with his uncertainty. “What if this younger Ambrose has found another way back to challenge us?”
“So what if he has?” His mother gave him a tolerant, yet irritated smirk. “It would be centuries before your birth. He has no memory of you or his precious wife as neither of you has been born yet. And in our time he died in battle only minutes after he learned of your existence. So even if Ambrose returns here, there’s nothing to warn Nick about the future he’s trying to avoid—we’ve shielded it too carefully. None of them have a clear vision of what we have in store for them. Our magick is too strong. Not even his little Nekoda remembers it clearly, thanks to our allies. Everything is working as it needs to. Therefore, we don’t have to fear his interference. He knows nothing of his real destiny or any of those that are truly important. Trust in me.”
She said that, but the Ambrose Malachai had already screwed things up by coming to the past so unexpectedly and had forced them to venture here in order to repair the changes he’d wrought that had caused a fracture in their plans.
Altered the world where Cyprian had ruled as the grand demon overlord and fulfilled the Malachai prophecy that his father had forsaken. He couldn’t allow his father to screw things up again. This was what he’d been bred for and it was what he wanted.
All he wanted.
He jerked his chin at the red sfora on the desk near his mother’s hand. It’d been taken from the Atlantean god, Acheron, when they’d defeated him in the guise of Ambrose. With that orb, they had access to all destinies, as Acheron had been born the final fate of everything. “Have you looked at it lately?”
“At what?”
“To make sure everything is fine?”
She leaned back in the chair with a peeved glare. “You doubt me?”
Of course he did. The only thing he didn’t doubt was the sensation in his gut. That was irrefutable.
She was not.
More than that, she was expendable.
So he decided to call her bluff. “Well, if you’re so sure, can we not go home? Why are we still in this godforsaken time period if all is right in the universe, as you say? Surely, we’ve spent enough time here?”
The light in her eyes went out as the smile faded. “Don’t get cheeky with me, boy. I am your mother.”
To whom he owed nothing as her maternal instincts amounted to the size of the head of a tiny pin.
Which made the Malachai in him rear up at her confrontation. “You need to remember who serves whom … Mother. You may have given me life, but I allow you to live. And to serve at my leisure.” He cut a glare to Grim. “Both of you. Therefore, I suggest you do as you’re told and remember that though I might be in the skin of a teenager …” He exploded into his real demonic body, complete with horns and wings. “It’s only an illusion. I am the Malachai. Fully formed and unlike my worthless father, fully aware of who and what I am, and of all my abilities. And more than capable of destroying you both, even with your powers combined. Do not push me. Do not cross me. You are both my servants and nothing more.”
Never one to be intimidated, his mother rose to her feet to glare at him while her breath came in sharp, brittle gasps. “And you’d best damn remember that even with all your magnificent abilities as you proclaim, a Malachai cannot travel through time without assistance.” She raked a less than impressed stare over his body. “Even one who’s fully formed. You have no other allies who will work with you by choice. Nor do you know anything more than your father’s memories as they were.” She glanced to Grim then sneered at Cyprian. “Like it or not, boy, you need us. So don’t threaten me again, unless it’s your wish to remain here and never reach the future you want to return to.”
In that moment, it took everything he had not to choke her with his powers. To rip out her cold heart and feed it to the worthless snipe beside her.
But sadly, she was right. Every bit of it. For now, he needed her, whether he liked it or not. And he definitely didn’t like this bitter taste of gall in his mouth.
His breathing labored, he turned on a hostile heel and stalked from the room. Yet with every click of his combat boot heels, he plotted their deaths in his mind.
And his father’s.
“Your day is coming, Ambrose. The darkness dawns and I intend to ram it straight down your throat.”
Again.
The memory of their battle to come was what he lived for. Especially after having been forced to endure in this primitive time period. Gah, it was amazing that mankind had survived as long as they had. Why they were so upset with his eradication was beyond him.
Honestly, he’d done them all a favor by wiping the human scum from the planet. They should have given him a medal.
Had they?
No. Instead, the thankless beasts had sent an Arel back in time to stop him.
Cyprian cocked his head as he heard his mother speaking with Grim.
“He’s getting too big for his britches.”
“Shh!” his mother snapped. “He’ll hear you.”
“It’s ridiculous. We were riders of the Apocalypse. The chosen ušumgallu! You were the Šarru-Tahazu and I the Šarru-Namuš. Now …”
“We will ride again. My father’s almost dead. All we have to do is ensure the timeline remains as it should and return to our time period. Once Noir is weaker, we can take his blood and use it against Cyprian to bind him to us. Once we do that, we’ll be the ones in control. Have patience, my love.”
Cyprian felt the Malachai surging, wanting their blood. But as his mother said …
Patience.
He’d come this far. He could make the distance. And if they thought to overthrow and enslave him as Noir had once done his grandfather, then they were about to learn the truth behind the Malachai.
Only one of his own blood could stop him.
That would be a son, which he didn’t have.
Or his father …
“Not on my watch, old man.” Just as that day in battle when he’d driven his sword through his father’s heart and kicked him away to die, he would emerge victorious again.
It was the Malachai destiny to reign over this world. And while his father might be weakened by the kindness he’d learned from his Seraph mother, he was not.
Forget dancing in the rain. Before all was said and done, Cyprian intended to dance in the blood of every living creature.
And none more so than Ambrose Malachai.
Nick jumped as his phone rang. Stunned, he glanced to Takeshi, then to Simi and Nashira. “Um … anyone have any idea how there’s a cell tower in this dimension?”
Takeshi snorted. “It’s magick.”
“Seriously, bruh? You took it there?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “You asked. That’s the answer. I have to allow it for all the times Acheron comes to visit. Those Dark-Hunters of yours never leave that poor boy alone. I don’t know how he stays sane.”
Simi made a rude noise. “Ain’t that the truthest? Ring. Ring. Ring. That ole phone ring so much, I swear The Simi hears it even in her sleep. I et it once and it made him real unhappy. Didn’t make the Simi as happy as the Simi thought it would either. And no one wants to know what happens when it has to come back out ’cause them phones are not biologically degradeable.”
Not wanting to think about that comment at all, Nick pulled his phone out. “Hey, Ma, sorry I’m—”
“Where are you, Boo?”
Nick winced at her hysterical tone. That was what his mom was most famous for. If he ever got out of her sight, she was like a bloodhound, tracking him down to the farthest reaches of the cosmos. He was surprised she hadn’t tethered them together on his arrival from her womb, and insisted, rather than cut the cord, they find some way to fuse it together permanently so that he could never leave her side.
And while he hated to ever lie to her, telling her that he was in an alternate dimension with a couple of preternatural super beings was just a really bad idea. “I was feeling better, so I went out to grab a bite with friends. Didn’t you see the note I left?”
Something strange was going on in the background. Were those sirens? He wasn’t quite sure.
When his mom spoke again, it was in a low tone that sounded like she had her hand cupped over the mic. “Listen, baby. There’s a situation here. Can you stay away for a while?”
What the heck? His mother never said things like that. At least not to him. All he ever heard was Nick get your butt home. Now!
He screwed his face up at the first thought that came to his mind. Especially since she’d gone to dinner with his mentor and best friend, Big Bubba Burdette.
Ah man, what had lunatic Bubba and Mark gotten her into now with their shenanigans? Those two could find trouble in a padded room, with both arms tied behind their backs.
His stomach sank to his feet as an even worse thought hit him.
“Ah, Ma! Please tell me you ain’t doing nothing with Bubba. I swear to God, if I come home to a tie on the doorknob I’ll be scarred for life. I am not ready to deal with the thought of that man as my new daddy.”
“Oh my Lord, Nicholas Ambrosius Gautier! The things that you get in your head, boy! Don’t make me hunt you down to spank you. Seriously! This has nothing to do with Bubba. Oh my Lord, boy! Really! Really?!”
“Then what?”
“The police just came here to arrest you!”
Nick froze as every bit of blood faded from his face. Bad flashbacks went through him from the last time he’d been wanted for something he hadn’t done. “W-w-what?”
“You heard me! They’re looking for a suspect to all the murders that’ve been going on.”
Yeah, but why blame him? Only thing he was guilty of was hogging covers and sneaking french fries when Kody wasn’t looking.
And one time only, he’d taken a sip of Xev’s beer by mistake ’cause he thought it was Ginger Ale. Even that, he’d confessed promptly the following Saturday to Father Jeffrey and had done every one of his Acts of Contrition. And sworn to the Heavenly Father he’d never do it again until he turned twenty-one. Even then he wouldn’t for fear his mom might not let him make it to twenty-two.
“What’s that got to do with me, Ma?”
“Two of the victims were your friends, Alan and Tyree!”
Her words slammed into him like a physical blow. No … it couldn’t be.
Nick staggered back into the wall. He wouldn’t have been more stunned had she named Acheron, and Nick’s Dark-Hunter boss, Kyrian, as victims. In fact, Alan and Tyree jumping him was what had led to him meeting Kyrian in the first place. When Kyrian had saved his life after Alan had shot him on the street.
“Someone overheard you threatening to kill them, Nick. To get back at them for beating you that night. So the police want to question you about it. They think you wanted retaliation. You’re their primary suspect.”
“I didn’t do it, Ma!”
“I know, baby. Kyrian and Acheron are talking to a lawyer about it, right now. But I didn’t want the police picking you up and hauling you to jail without warning, like you’re some kind of hoodlum. We’re going to take you in, with their lawyer, so that you won’t be booked and processed. I just need to know when you’re coming home so that we can take care of this mess and not let you spend any time in jail!”
He was truly grateful for that. Last thing he wanted was to be locked up like his father. Especially now that he was a Malachai.
That kind of anger and viciousness fed his powers. Made him ruthless and stronger. Ate away his will and left him vulnerable to the bad side of his demonic tendencies. If left too long among those kinds of people, he might lose control and become a full blown demon …
Yeah, that was a terrifying thought.
And it was the last thing anyone needed.
Nick swallowed hard. “I’m with Simi.”
“You’re safe?”
“Definitely. There’s no way the police can get to me here.”
“Okay. Stay there and I’ll call and tell you where to meet us so that we can handle this.”
Nick hung up the phone and shook his head as he tried to make sense of the insanity. But that wasn’t possible.
Alan and Tyree were dead. How? While it was true they’d been known to run with a rough crowd and get into things they shouldn’t, it was still a shock to him. They’d once been inseparable brothers who had each other’s backs, through thick and thin.
Dang …
“You okay?”
He blinked at Takeshi’s question. “Can you show me my friends on that timeline? Did Alan and Tyree die like this originally?”
“What do you mean?”
“My friends who shot me. Did they die in the first go round, before the timeline was tampered with?” He moved back to the lights and tried to read his roadmap. “I have to know what happened to them before Ambrose came back and started changing things.”
Takeshi took him over to the first weird split. “Well, you weren’t shot in the first sequence. You were stabbed.”
“Why would that change?”
Nashira moved forward. “Because one of the possibilities in the new timeline is that you could go to prison for murder in retaliation for being shot and then mugged by them.”
Takeshi nodded. “She’s right.” He pointed out the lines that intersected. “See how things build on each other. That’s cause and effect. As you change something, it goes into a different direction and splinters off. This is now a new possibility that wasn’t here before.”
Nick was slowly beginning to understand. “Like in the Eye of Ananke.”
Takeshi stared at him. “What do you know of that?”
“I had it. Caleb took it from me like an irate parent, slapped my hand, and told me not to touch it again or he’d slap my face next time.”
“Good! You don’t need to play with that. It’ll only mess you up.”
And boy had it. His head hadn’t been right since. Though to hear most tell it, his head had never been right.
Some days, he agreed.
More green began to flash. “What’s going on now?”
Takeshi laughed nervously. “Honestly? I’m not sure you want me to answer.”
That didn’t help his would-be ulcer any. “Ambrose told me to use the Eye to reset what I’d done. To go back to the beginning and not mess up anything else.”
“Yeah, but you’re not listening, Nick. It’s not what you did. Someone else is tampering with your timeline. This isn’t about what you’re doing. It’s what they’re undoing.”
“Dude, you’re seriously freaking me out.”
“You need to be freaked out. This is bad. Everything is unraveling and you’re walking a tightrope.”
“Not helping!” Nick’s only saving grace was that Kody wasn’t here to hear the unmasculine whine in his voice. That was the last thing he wanted.
Or worse, for Caleb to hear it.
“You’re misreading this.”
They both turned to stare at Nashira.
“Pardon?”
She stepped forward. “Look at it, Neo. Carefully.” With a delicate grace, she moved her hands over the lines as if playing some kind of instrument. As she did so, the lights shimmered and danced, then cleared.
Takeshi gaped. “She’s right.”
“I’m lost again.”
He shook his head. “No, Nick. You’re found. Just close your eyes. Count to three. And open them.”
“Yeah, right. I wasn’t born yesterday! Last time I did that, I got sucker-punched.” His past had given him severe trust issues. He didn’t blindly close his eyes for anyone. Not even to make a wish on his birthday cake.
Simi tsked at him. “You can trust them, silly boy-demon! Just doos what he says!”
Not sure about that, Nick growled and forced himself to do it. But it made every hair on the back of his neck stand up in protest.
Trust was not in him. With or without the Malachai blood.
Sheez!
Yet the moment he began to relax, he started to understand what they’d been trying to tell him.
Gasping, he opened his eyes and shook his head.
“You are the Malachai.”
For the first time, Nick got it. Completely. He saw the universe as it was and his real and true place in it.
More than that, he had a quickening of the breadth and depth of his true powers. They flowed and united. Not just his, but all of the Malachai who’d come before him.
He was Monakribos. Jeros. Evander and Veres …
Yarin. Eli. Xul. Elyon. Xarex. Utu …
Adarian.
Ambrose.
On and on. All united. From first to last, throughout time. He felt that connection.
More than that, he saw how it all began and felt the rage of the first betrayal that had led to their creation. The hunger for blood.
Throughout time, his species had been on a quest for vengeance.
Nothing soothed it.
Not until the day Nick had found his Kody.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered.
Yet no sooner had those words come out of his mouth than he saw himself long ago …