Page 32 of Infamous (Chronicles of Nick 3)
“That’s the interloper talking, not you. I know my Nick. My Nick is strong.”
He licked his lips as his pain intensified. “If I live, you or my mother will die. What’s the point?”
“What’s the point?” she asked incredulously. “The point is to savor and treasure every moment, every breath. They are precious because they are limited. Nothing in abundance is ever held dear. It’s cast off without any thought whatsoever. But happiness, victory, and life are sacred because they are fleeting and stingily measured.”
“And the pain is never-ending.” Talk about abundance. It was shoveled at him so fast, he was buried in it.
“Not true and you know it. Pain is even more fleeting than the other emotions. Yes, it stays for awhile sometimes, but it always goes eventually. Always. Do you remember what you told Brynna when you stopped her from killing herself?”
“That I wore tacky shirts?”
Smiling, she shook her head at him. “The rest of it?”
“Vaguely.”
“You said, I know you’re hurting. Believe me, I know how it feels to get your emotional teeth kicked down your throat so far that it makes you choke on the last shred of your dignity. That sick feeling in your gut that tells you, you can’t take it anymore. That life sucks hard and it won’t ever get better. That you’re walking on the tightrope, trying to hang on with your toes ’cause you ain’t got no safety net, and you’re barely one sneeze away from being a stain on the floor. But you’re not alone. You’re not. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you. People who love you and who would be devastated if something ever happened to you.’”
“People who will die if I live,” Nick reminded her.
“And do you really think we wouldn’t be every bit as devastated if we lost you?”
No, he hadn’t thought about that at all.
“There’s always another side to everything, Nick. Two perspectives on all things. No two memories of any event are ever the same. They’re all sifted through our emotional channels, which run deep, and they color every input into our brain. How many times have you argued with someone over a past event where they claim one thing happened, but you don’t remember it that way?”
All the time. “But—”
She placed her hand over his lips to keep him from speaking. “Do you know what suicide is?”
“Yeah, death.”
She shook her head. “It’s the ultimate act of selfishness. Yes, death is painful for those who live on. Losing someone burns so deep that it never stops. Time doesn’t heal it, it just dulls it for a little while. Believe me, I know. Unlike you, I have lost those I love. And I grieve every day of my life that I can’t get ahold of them. That I can’t hear their voices or see their faces. I would give anything I have, my soul, my life, if I could just hug them one more time and tell them that I love them. And how much I miss them. But again, it’s because our time together is so fleeting and limited that it teaches us to savor every smile they give us. And having lived through their deaths, I can tell you this. I love them too much to make them suffer the way I have over their loss. I would rather say good-bye to them first than have them alive for years, aching for me the way I grieve for them. What do you think your mother would do if something happened to you?”
“She’d follow me to the grave.” How many times had she told him that? If anything ever happened to you, they’d have to dig two graves. I couldn’t live if I lost you.
“I have buried everyone I love, Nick. Please, don’t be so cruel as to make me bury you, too.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I can’t do it again, Nick. I can’t. And I would rather give my life for you than have you give yours for me.”
He covered her hand with his and savored the warmth of her touch and the words that branded themselves in his heart.
Nekoda tightened her grip on him. “If you doubt anything I say, ask Dr. Burdette why she’s in New Orleans. Why she comes here every year at this time.”
He frowned at her words. “Why?”
“Day after tomorrow is the anniversary of the death of Bubba’s wife and son. And yesterday was the anniversary of the death of his best friend. Dr. Burdette’s here because she’s terrified that even all these years later, Bubba will kill himself to get away from the pain of losing the three of them.”
“When did they die?”
“His wife and son, twelve years ago when his son was only two.”
Nick’s heart ached as he realized that Bubba’s son would have gone to school with him. They were almost the same age.
Kody nodded as she read his thoughts. “It’s why Bubba all but adopted you when you met. His son had dark hair and blue eyes.”
Just like him.
“And it’s why he and Mark are such good friends.”
Nick scowled at that. “I don’t understand.”
“Mark’s older brother was Bubba’s best friend. In college they went out like millions of others their age. They’d won a championship bowl game and had wanted to celebrate. Bubba had too much to drink so Mark’s brother drove Bubba’s truck that night. On their way back to the dorm, for reasons no one knows, their pickup left the road and overturned. Bubba was thrown from the passenger side, but Mark’s brother was pinned underneath the truck. Had Bubba not been drunk and passed out, he could have gotten help before his friend died. Instead, Mark’s brother bled to death before another car spotted them and notified the authorities. Bubba has never forgiven himself.”
That one bit explained so much about Bubba’s idiosyncrasies. The poor man. And yet, Nick had known Bubba all this time, and he’d never had a clue about any of that. “Is that why he didn’t go pro?”
“In part. He also didn’t want to raise his son in that kind of lifestyle. Because he’d already lost his best friend, he didn’t want to waste even a second of his time with his wife and child. He wanted a job that would have him home with them every night.”
And still he’d lost them. It was so not right.
“But you see how our tragedies interconnect and shape us? Bubba wouldn’t have had all the time he did have with his wife and son had he not lost his best friend.”
Nick saw it, even though he didn’t like it. “And he wouldn’t teach self-defense courses if his wife hadn’t died.”
Kody nodded. “People aren’t just ants rushing around over a crust of bread. Every life, no matter how isolated, touches hundreds of others. It’s up to us to decide if those micro connections are positive or negative. But whichever we decide, it does impact the ones we deal with. One word can give someone the strength they needed at that moment or it can shred them down to nothing. A single smile can turn a bad moment good. And one wrong outburst or word could be the tiny push that causes someone to slip over the edge into destruction.”
She was definitely right about that. One touch of her hand could soothe him in a way nothing else did. Still, the voices were in his head and they were loud and clear, telling him how worthless he was. How ugly. How everyone would be better off without him.
“Do you really hear the self-loathing soundtrack in your head, too?” he asked her.
“Nick, I promise you, we all do. You know your friend Acheron?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you ever seen him without dark sunglasses on?”
Now that she mentioned it … “No, I haven’t.”
“Ash is so embarrassed by his own eyes that he won’t show them. At all. Not even to those he’s closest to. If they ever do see them, he keeps his gaze on the floor. And have you seen the size of my butt? If it gets any bigger, it’s going to be assigned its own zip code. And don’t get me started on how thin and flat my hair is. Or the fact that I can’t spell anything. I feel so stupid sometimes, and yet here I am able to summon powers from most dimensions. None of that matters to my inner beast that insults me every day of my life.”
He narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “I think you’re making all of that up. ’Cause, girl, I don’t see a flaw anywhere on your body. Of course, I haven’t seen your butt except when it’s been covered with clothing. Maybe if you show me some of what you’re talking about in the flesh…”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re awful.”
He was, but in the worst moment of his life she’d made him smile. At least until his thoughts left her and returned to what had them here in this fringe area. What had possessed him in his cell. “How do you learn to function past the voices? They’re always in my head on a continuous loop.”
“Drown them out with music or logic. Yeah, I might not be that smart. Or beautiful. But that’s not all there is to me. I matter to people. Not all people, but to the ones who matter to me, and they’re the only ones in this world who count. To the darkest pit with the rest of them.”
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers so that he could stare into her eyes. “I love you, Kody. And I hear everything you’ve said. But I don’t think I’m strong enough to live without you.”
“How do you think I feel about you?”
If that was true, she was right. How could he leave her to the agony of grief if he killed himself?
She tilted her head until she captured his lips and kissed him until his senses reeled. Her touch calmed and soothed him until he felt like himself again.
But with that sensation, he felt her leaving.
“Kody!” he called, reaching out for her. But she was already gone.
Suddenly, he slammed back into his body. Opening his eyes, he found himself in the holding cell with Caleb next to him.
Caleb let out a relieved sigh. “Thank the universe she got through to you.”
Nick frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Caleb laughed bitterly. “You just experienced what I told you I couldn’t explain. Whenever a Malachai gets into environments like this one, its base urge is to become violent. In the past, when that happened, it caused a Malachai to attack others. But you, my friend, turn in it inward instead of outward.”
“Meaning what?”
“You become self-destructive.”
Nick didn’t understand the fearful concern in Caleb’s eyes. “Is that not better?”
“Depends.”
Nick was getting frustrated with Caleb’s vague answers. “On?”
“If you want mankind enslaved by you or your father.”
Great. Just what he wanted to hear. “You know, I’m beginning to think the only choice anyone has in life is between either a bad outcome or a worse one.”
“You’re right. It does seem to be the case, most times.”
Nick grew quiet as three policemen came in.
“We’re taking both of you to your bail hearing.”
Caleb actually looked pleased. “Go, Virgil.”
Nick was feeling pretty good about it, until he noticed something about the policemen. It was only a flash, but he recognized it as his powers warning him.
“Caleb, get back.”
“Why?”
Using the trick Thorn had shown him, Nick summoned a firebolt. His hand glowed as a tennis ball–sized stone manifested in his palm. “They’re lollers.”
As Caleb moved back, one of them tossed out a bloodred chain that wrapped around Caleb’s throat and held him in place.
Nick let fly his bolt into that demon’s chest. He exploded into fire as the other two rushed Nick.
Caleb caught one before he could reach Nick, and broke his neck. The one attacking Nick threw a wide, telegraphed punch. Nick ducked and came up with a fist into the demon’s jaw. The blow shattered his shell, causing him to disintegrate. Something that showered them with an odor so foul, Nick gagged on it.
“What kind are they?” Nick asked.
“The kind that shouldn’t be here.”
“How so?”
Caleb gave him a hard stare. “They’re blood demons.” He said that like Nick ought to know what that was.
Yeah. Clueless as normal. “Isn’t that what Virgil is?”
“Damn, Nick, quit being bibliophobic.”
Nick grimaced. “When did we quit speaking the same language?”
“Means you’re afraid of books. I’ve never seen anyone stand toe-to-toe with a daeve and not have a shred of fear in him, yet if I hand you a book, unless it’s manga, you act like it’s going to bite you.”
“It’s not the biting that scares me, it’s the boring. Besides, I like books with pictures. Manga can get pretty racy in Shonen and my mother doesn’t confiscate it and ground me for reading it. Unlike other male materials that launch her into a three-week rant about how women don’t look like that and how it’s disrespectful to her to have it in her house.”
