Illusion by Sherrilyn Kenyon
At first nothing happened, but after a few minutes more, the hinge began to lift. Once it was an inch up, Nick moved to the middle hinge.
While he worked, he heard the sound of fighting outside. And it was coming closer. He had no idea who was winning. But it was going bad for someone he prayed wasn't Bubba.
Just as he moved to the bottom hinge, the door was ripped open and slung back. On his knees with one shoe in his hand, Nick looked up to meet Thorn's furious glower. Without a word, Thorn grabbed Nick by the arm and wrenched him to his feet.
For once, Nick held his smart mouth at bay as he saw Mark, his mom, and Bubba in the custody of demons. Bubba held his mother against his chest while she sobbed uncontrollably. Another group came forward and dumped an either dead or unconscious Savitar into the foyer.
"I told you, you wouldn't escape me."
Nick still didn't speak even though Thorn's taunt set fire to every piece of Cajun in him. He was too busy skimming every enemy around him, looking for an opening.
Thorn grabbed his arm again. "Now, we're--"
"Don't touch me!" Nick snarled, wrenching his biceps away from Thorn. "You want me, fine. Let my mom go. And Bubba and Mark."
Thorn laughed. "You have no power here."
"There you be wrong, boy." Nick dug down deep for every piece of courage he'd ever had and stood strong in front of his enemies. "I am the Malachai."
Granted, that might have been a little more impressive had he been wearing both shoes and not holding one in his hand, but looking like an idiot had never stopped him from being brave before. It certainly wouldn't stop his stupidity today.
Nick dropped the shoe to the floor and stood up to his full less-than-impressive height, which barely reached the middle of Thorn's chest. Even so, he refused to be intimidated. Or rather refused to let Thorn know he was intimidated by the much larger and more powerful being.
Thorn seized him by the throat. "You're a Malachai with no powers. Do you know what that makes you?"
Dead was the most obvious answer. But Nick never went with the first answer to anything. That made life too easy.
"Seriously pissed off. I got me one bad bad case of short man syndrome, buddy. Just letting you know."
Ignoring that, Thorn leaned down to whisper in Nick's ear. "No, little friend. It makes you bait."
Nick snorted. "Trust me. You don't want to catch the things that want to make me their lunch. Met a few. They're guaranteed to give you even more indigestion than I am."
"Oh, I don't know about that, Akri-Nick. The Simi thinks nothing can be harder on the digestive track than them blue-eyed Cajun people. They's so hard to go down. Kick the whole way. Scream a lot, too."
A slow smile broke across Nick's face as he heard the most wondrous singsongy accent imaginable. A blessed accent that belonged to only one person he knew.
"Simi! Welcome to the fais do-do, cher. So glad to see you. You are truly a sight for these mighty sore eyes."
The look of confusion on Thorn's face was comical as he turned his head to take in the exceptionally tall teenage demon. Dressed in a black fishnet shirt that was covered with a modest purple corset, Simi had black hair streaked with green. She wore a frou-frou short black skirt over purple and black leggings, and the tall Goth biker boots Nick was used to. At first glance, there was nothing to mark her as supernatural. But only an absolute moron would make that mistake.
Unfortunately, Thorn wasn't an idiot. "Get her!" he roared.
Simi let loose a stream of fire at them as her wings unfurled and she took flight. Thorn went to grab Nick.
Twisting away, Nick headed toward Simi. She seemed his safest bet. But as he reached her, someone grabbed him from behind. He swung with intent, until he realized it was Kody.
Nick barely caught himself before his fist made contact with her beautiful face. "Ma bele," he breathed before he kissed her cheek. "Did you bring Simi?"
"No. But I'm glad she's here."
He nodded in agreement. "Where's Ash?"
"Covering my retreat. He said he'd join us as soon as he could."
For a moment, Nick almost felt like himself again. Until he went to blast the demon after Simi and couldn't throw a fireball for anything. Luckily, Kody could, and she nailed it, but as she did so something strange happened. Nick staggered back as he felt that weird sensation he'd had at school. Glancing down, he saw his hand was translucent again.
"Nick?"
He heard Kody's voice, but he couldn't respond. She seemed to be falling away from him. Or maybe he was falling away from her. It was hard to tell for certain.
Why is this happening again?
What was happening to him?
"Nick!"
Kody's scream echoed in his head. He tried to make his way back to her. To will it so. Nothing listened. Not his head or pounding heart. And definitely not his fading skin.
Instead, he drifted faster away from her.
Give me your name! It was the voice again. The one he'd heard when he'd been yanked out from Selena and them.
Why did it keep asking him that?
"Don't you know?"
Name! Now!
Suddenly, he slammed into something hard and unyielding. At first he thought it was a wall, until he realized the wall radiated warmth.
And was covered with hard muscles. Ew!
"Barely one day a Malachai and you've already screwed it all up. You are even more worthless than I thought."
Nick's eyes widened as he recognized his father's angry growl in his ear. No. It wasn't possible. It wasn't.
"You're dead."
Adarian snorted. "Not as dead as you're about to be, boy."
CHAPTER 15
Nick struggled even harder against his father's hold.
"Stop!" Adarian snarled in Nick's ear. "I'm not the one who's going to kill you. Though in retrospect, I should have slit your throat the first time I heard your mewling cries at birth. Why did I ever think something as pathetic as you could protect Cherise?" He literally tossed Nick away from him.
Nick caught his balance and swung around to face his father. Adarian's skin had a sick, grayish-white pallor to it and his eyes were sunken and black. There were no visible eyes at all. Just scary darkness that seemed to see right through him and judge him lacking. "What are you?"
"Dead, you lickspittle. Did you miss the memo? You were there when it happened. Or did you think you dreamed it all?"
"Then how--"
"How do you think?" His father grabbed Nick's hair and snatched him forward.
Grimacing in pain, Nick tried to fight, but even dead, his father was way too strong for him. It was like going against a tank. Dang, did the man have to be so strong? Of course, Nick had no body, either. That kind of put him at a serious disadvantage.
"You are not human," his father growled in Nick's ear as he tightened his grip to hold him completely immobile. "Stop thinking of yourself as such. You have never been fully human. Nothing can contain or constrain you without your implicit consent. Do you understand? That was my most hard-won lesson and it's the only thing I'm giving to you for free, boy." Adarian loosened his hold. "We are unlike any other species ever created in this universe. Because of that, your soul keeps slipping out of that frail human body they've forced it into. It knows it doesn't belong there and it's trying to get home despite the spell they've used against you."
"They who?"
"Laguerre." He spat out the name as if every syllable was a swallow of poison. "That vicious pute is working with your enemies. She is one of your generals. In theory. One we have never been able to trust. She would sell her own mother to the devil for a used bottle of stagnant fingernail polish."
That was harsh. "How do you know this?"
Adarian spun Nick around in the darkness. "Open your senses and listen, boy. Feel. Smell. This is the ether you've been trying to tap into for so long. It is everything in the universe. In all universes. With it, there's nothing you can't see or know. The past. T
Fine, I'll try it again. That seemed like a good idea until he actually did it. Nick staggered and had to put his hand on his father to steady himself as a trillion things hit him at once. It was so loud and overwhelming that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. His stomach plummeted as bile rose in his throat. But the absolute worst was all the emotions he felt from other people and sentient beings throughout the entire universe. The sadness, grief, and anguish. It was debilitating.
And extremely painful. Like being stomped in the stones and then rolled over hot coals while naked and basted in accelerant.
His father tightened his grip again as if another wave of anger had seized him. "And that will always be your greatest weakness."
Nick gasped for breath as he tried to understand. "What? Having nerve endings? You're right. It stinks. Especially when I slam my toes into something when I'm not looking."
His father viciously growled at him--Nick had that effect on a lot of people. "Your bleeding heart, boy. By choosing a human mother for you, I weakened you."
"Then why did you--"
Adarian grabbed him by the neck again and cut him off, thus proving his point about nerve endings. Even in a noncorporeal form, it hurt. "I loved her." Those words left his father's throat as if they'd been torn out. When he spoke again, his voice trembled with raw emotion and agony. "I knew something so pure and precious as she would never be able to love something fouled and damned like me. No matter what I tried, her affections went to others. I was the most powerful being in existence, and the best I could compel from her was time spent with me because she pitied my loneliness." He laughed bitterly. "I fought for her honor and instead of being grateful, she took me to task for beating an apology out of the one who'd insulted her. After that, she wouldn't even hold my hand. She'd barely look at me, and when she did, her eyes showed a disappointment that cut me soul-deep."
Yeah, that sounded like his mom. And Nick knew that look a lot better than he wanted to. It, like the closet monster he now knew was real, was one of those things that seriously disturbed his mental peace. Cherise Gautier really deplored violence for any reason. It chafed his butt, too, whenever she fussed at him for not turning the other cheek. Yet in his world, the meek only inherited earth six feet deep.
"And you," his father sneered. "I hate you for having the part of her I could never claim."
Sympathetic pain racked him as Nick finally understood the true tragedy of his father's heritage. To forever crave the very thing he could never have.
Love. Acceptance.
The gods' final punishment for the Malachai bloodline over a treaty they'd had no part in, and a war they'd been ordered to fight. As punishment, the firstborn Malachai had been forced to see his pregnant wife die. To endure centuries alone.
None of them were to know happiness. Ever. Nor were they to live to see their heir grown. As soon as their son was old enough to come into his full powers, the elder Malachai was doomed to die by his son's hand.
For all eternity.
His father increased the pressure of his hold. "I should have killed you when you were born." Growling again, he moved away as if he was planning to give in to that urge unless he put more space between them. "But I'd harmed Cherise enough." He winced in pain. "You were still wet from your whelping when she cradled you against her breast and swore no one would ever harm you. Not without going through her. As much as I wanted to take your life, I never wanted her to cry. Not because of something I did to her. I owed her that much."
Roaring, Adarian spun on him and seized him again. "You, pathetic waste that you are, mean more to her than anything else. You, she cherishes, and you were given one task--to make sure nothing harms her."
Nick tried to speak, but his father held him too tightly now. He couldn't even let out a squeak.
"If you don't fix this and subdue our generals, she will die in all worlds. Do you understand? Hers is the first life they will take ... because of you!"
Coughing and wheezing, Nick nodded.
His father loosened his grip enough so that Nick could breathe again.
"Believe me, no one wants me out of here more than I do. So, please, Demon Master Overlord"--Nick deepened his voice to duplicate his father's rumbling sinister tone--"Mr. I-have-all-power-and-you-suck"--he returned to speaking normally--"tell me how do I get back? Please, enlighten me, oh great father mine." He glared at him. "I already tried clicking my heels together. Not much luck there. Should I sneeze when I do it or just fart in your general direction?"
His father shoved at him. "You are the Malachai. You are the son of the Destroyer of Worlds. Your name is Conquest. Pain. Suffering. Betrayal. No one can defeat you unless you allow it."
"Oh, okay," Nick said sarcastically. "Let's just all be happy and shiny then. No sweat that." He beat his fist against his chest in an ancient salute then barked out his orders. "I will win this for you, Father."
His father raked him a withering glower. "I am not one of your putrid humans to suffer your backtalk, boy."
Nick snorted. "You're dead, right? What can you do? Shake the chandelier. Ooo, I'm so terrified. Please don't rock the chair in the corner or slam a door in my face. I don't think I could mentally take that. You might send me into therapy for the rest of my life. Oh, the humanity!"
His father grabbed his hair again. Yeah, okay, that did hurt. "Don't test me."
Grinding his teeth, Nick tried to extricate himself. "Mom says I get that better irritating quality from you."
To his complete shock, Adarian laughed and released him. "You do, actually. And to answer your earlier question, Laguerre is working with our enemy. They are the ones who divided you."
"That's all well and good. Nice to know I have yet another ancient, omnipotent power trying to eat my gizzard with onions, but what I really need is info on unification. Put me back together again. Now how do I do that?"
"Unlock your powers."
"Give me the key." Nick spoke in the same aggravated tone. "Or at least a friggin' clue. Hey, Pat. Can I buy a flippin' vowel? Please?"
His father clenched his teeth so hard, Nick could hear them grinding. Not the first time he'd reduced an elder to that. Probably wouldn't be the last. Though he should score some bonus points for the fact that he was causing an inhuman ghost to do so and he wasn't even really trying to annoy him.
Give me your name....
Nick flinched at the intrusion of that voice inside his skull again. Someone needed to turn the decibel level down a few hundred notches. "Is that you?"
His father turned around slowly. "Don't answer them."
"Wasn't planning to. Why?"
Adarian swung back toward Nick. "Do you know how to command and own a demon?"
"Tell it I'm the Malachai ... Oh wait, no. They usually burst out laughing when I do that. Really nuclear devastation for my ego, I have to say."
His father made a sound that was disturbing enough to make Nick take two steps away from him. "No, imbecile. You tell it your true demonic name that is written in the Damonicon the moment we're spawned. With that, any demon can be summoned, regardless of our wills. And with it, we can all be enslaved ... even the Malachai. It's why we never use our Summoning names. Not for anything."
But that didn't make sense. Everyone knew Nick's full name. He'd never kept it a secret. And even if he'd ever tried, all anyone had to do was be within an eighty-mile radius whenever his mother blew a gasket and shouted out the whole thing to get his attention for God and all His saints to hear. Nick was quite sure a number of people in Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida knew his name better than most of his teachers.
"I don't follow."
His father mumbled something--no doubt it was insulting and degrading--before he spoke up. "Whenever we're asked, our kind uses 'Malachai.' It's our classification or basic significator. It's a meaningless designation that can
"Ah," Nick said as he got it finally. "So you wouldn't tell anyone you're Adarian."
"No, fool. Adarian Malachai is my common name to differentiate me from my father and from you." Man, that was an impressive lip curl and told Nick just how much his father loved him ... never. "My summoning name is Adrius. No one, not even your mother, was ever given it."
"Then why are you telling me?"
"What does it matter at this point, if I'm summoned or not? I'm dead and have no powers left to use. Everything I had, I handed over to you." Bitterness echoed in his tone. "And since you've inherited Malphas, you should know his real name in case he ever refuses to come when you call."
Nick bit back a laugh. Yeah, that power could come in handy. Caleb was the only being Nick knew who made him look like a poser in the arena of grand sarcasm. Testy little booger had an attitude that knew no limits or boundaries.
"Well, I know it's not Caleb 'cause I shout that name out all the time and he blatantly ignores me ... even when I'm on fire. Literally."
Adarian gave the impression that he was rolling his missing eyes at him. "Cabal."
Nick's jaw went slack. "Cabal?"
His father nodded. "Speak that name out loud three times and he can be summoned to you. Anywhere. Anytime. It is the name of owning."
Awesome opossum. Pwn one for me. At least that was the thought until it dawned on him that both his father's and Caleb's summoning names were eerily similar to their mundane ones.
Ah, crap ... Nick cringed at the implication and likelihood of what that would mean for him. Yeah, his luck was never kind. "Please, Lord, please. Tell me that mine isn't Dickless Nicholas."
His father screwed his face up. "What?"
"It's what the troglodytes at school call me whenever they want to send me to the office for assaulting them."
Adarian bellowed in agony. "It's like talking to an ape, I swear," his father mumbled. Then louder and sharper, he barked at Nick. "Would you be serious?"
Nick pressed his lips together. "Sorry. Serious-face time ... but that is a major concern." He cleared his throat and braced himself so that he didn't upset his father any more.
Until another unsettling thought went through his mind and sped out of his mouth before he could stop it. "It's not Nick the Dick, either, right?"