Page 22 of Inferno (Chronicles of Nick 4)
How did I become this pathetic a wretch?
His fury and grief mixed inside him as he remembered the fierce, undefeated demon he used to be. Gods, how he despised his memories. All they did was show him the mistakes he’d made. The faces of the past that haunted him to the point he could no longer sleep through any given night.
Before he could stop himself, he manifested his most prized possession into his palm. An ancient gold locket, it contained a single precious lock of white-blond hair that he hadn’t seen in centuries. He was too afraid to open the locket and chance losing his last link to the only thing that he’d ever deemed valuable. Tears welled in his eyes as he ran his finger over the engraving on the outside that was written in his native language.…
Teria assim.
Forever yours.
In his mind, he saw the most perfect human woman who had ever been born. Gentle and kind, she had turned him from an instrument of absolute destruction into a noble hero who had been willing to risk everything to save her race and protect them all, no matter the personal cost. When every living creature had been out to take his life and had driven him mad with his need to survive and conquer them, she had tamed him with her tenderest touch. She had never once seen him as a rabid monster to be destroyed or enslaved.
While others had feared and cursed him, she had reached out and offered him innocent friendship. In all the centuries he’d existed, she alone had loved him. And the agony of her loss was every bit as profound and cutting now as it had been the moment she’d drawn her last breath in his arms.
I would give anything to have one more moment with you.… To smell the sunshine on your skin …
Hear my name on your precious lips.
“I miss you so much, Lilliana,” he breathed, his voice breaking with the weight of his pain.
He had lived solely for her beautiful smile.
And she had died protecting his worthless life.
The injustice of it was enough to drive him insane. But the gods wouldn’t allow him even the comfort of madness to escape this hell he was trapped in. And he was no longer the creature who had loved her to distraction. She had taken his nobility and love with her into eternity, and left him forever bereft and aching for her.
I am sorrow.
My name is Hatred.
Disease.
Wrath.
A single tear slid down his cheek.
Infuriated by that weakness, he wiped it away so hard that he bruised his skin. The searing pain brought him back to the present and to the task Adarian had given him. The elder Malachai was about to die, and since Caleb didn’t know what was killing him, he had no idea who his next master would be.
But the one thing he could guarantee, who or whatever was coming for Adarian wouldn’t hesitate to use and abuse both Caleb’s physical being and his powers. And as bad as Adarian was, for the most part he had left Caleb alone.
His next master might not be so neglectful.
A tic started in his jaw. Slavery sucked for anyone, but for demons it was so much worse. If their masters wanted to torture them, they couldn’t even die and escape it. And most everything that knew how to enslave demonkyn possessed a cruel streak that made the Marquis de Sade look like a Buddhist monk flower child.
Grinding his teeth, he used his powers to return Lilliana’s locket to his room where it would be safe from harm or loss. His hand turned cold immediately from the sudden emptiness, and the hole in his heart ached all the more.
When he’d looked into her kind, blue eyes, he’d seen a future with her by his side forever.
Instead of an eternity of happiness and love, he’d only been granted three precious years with her. Or more precisely, twelve hundred and four days.
A mere blip on eternity.
Closing his eyes, he tried to forget that her life had been the only thing he had ever begged for.
But even now, he could see himself covered with her blood as he screamed out for his father to help him. For someone, anyone he’d served to breathe life back into the only person who had ever made him feel whole. Needed.
Loved.
His precious Lilliana had lived and she had perished by her convictions.
… Damned is the soul that dies while the evil it committed lives on. And the most damned of all are those who see the evil coming for others and refuse to confront it. For it is not out of fear that heroes are born, but rather out of their selfless love that will not allow them safety bought from the torture, death, and degradation of others. It is better to die in defense of another than to live with the knowledge that you could have saved them but chose to do nothing.
And to those who think that one person cannot make a difference, I say this … the deadliest tidal wave begins as an unseen ripple in a vast ocean. Live your life so that your integrity will motivate others to strive for excellence long after you’ve passed on, and know that no good deed or sacrifice, or offer of sincere friendship or love, is ever forgotten by the one who receives it.
Lilliana’s words haunted him. She had taught him that it was far better to be alone than to be surrounded by people who were morally bankrupt. People who sought to bring him down with jealous words and barbs they couched in humor, thinking he was too stupid to recognize the insults they thought they’d so cleverly hidden.
He’d given up his lead role as a fierce, conquering warlord to live in a tiny hut where Lilliana had made him the king of her small, precious world. And she had been right. He had never, for even one nanosecond, forgotten the warmth of her love that had taught his dead heart how to beat.
To this day, even though he hated it, he still strove to be the man she’d seen him as.
Yeah, he understood exactly the brutal cold hatred the first Malachai had borne for his mother over the death of his wife and child. It was the same hatred he bore for his own father, who had ignored his pleas to spare Lilliana’s life. To take his life in exchange for hers.
How could you, you worthless bastard, when you knew full well that she was all I had?
His nostrils flared as more anger filled him.
Stop, Malphas. Don’t think about it. There was nothing he could do to change the past.
It was the future he needed to focus on. That was the only thing he could alter.
Whoever was killing the Malachai was an evil force to be feared. And if they could kill Adarian while he was in a place where nothing other than Nick should be able to weaken him, then they would be able to control Nick, too.
That was truly chilling.
While Caleb might not like this world he was forced to live in, he knew how much worse it would be in the hands of something that powerful, and he would not dishonor his wife’s memory by putting his hands in his pockets and turning away from the battle to come.
Not when he knew how to fight and how to win.
This wasn’t about following the orders he’d been given. It wasn’t about saving his own worthless existence … he was already in hell. It was about doing what was right.
Fighting for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.
Adarian was lost to his hatred and there was nothing Caleb could do to salvage him.
But Nick …
Hope is that tiny light that the gods have given us so that we can find our way through our darkest hours. And while we might stub our toes and bruise our knees, if we keep moving forward, even when our progress is slow and painful, we will overcome and be made better by our journey.… No misery or bad situation is ever infinite or final until we make a conscious decision for it to be so.
Caleb had scoffed at Lilliana’s naive idealism. So basically what you’re telling me, little one, is that hope is a human’s way of flipping off the gods and saying “ha, ha, you lose and I have no intention of quitting?” Take it from someone with a lot of personal experience, they tend to react badly when you do that.
But in the end, he had surrendered his battle flag to his wife. Mostly because she’d kissed him until he’d lost the ability to form any rational thought. At least that was the lie he told himself to keep from admitting that in spite of all the horrors he’d seen and utter agony he’d survived, he still had hope inside his heart. Whether it originated as more torture or as divine inspiration, something always happened to carry him forward through every dismal ordeal.
And while he might not win this latest fight, he would go down battling the whole way, with everything he had. Not for himself or for his own vainglory. Not because he’d been ordered to do it.
He would stand strong and fight to the bitter end for the simple reason that it was the right thing to do.
Yeah, even he admitted it was stupid.
Caleb glanced back at the building where he’d left Adarian and let out a bitter laugh. “We are so going to die.”
CHAPTER 12
With the barrel aimed right between Alan’s eyes, Nick pulled the trigger and felt the recoil in his hand.
A mere instant before the bullet left the chamber, something hard slammed into his wrist, knocking the gun free and sparing Alan’s putrid life. The gun landed a moment later with a solid thud on the concrete. His fury exploding, Nick turned on his new attacker, intending to kill them.
But just as his hand flew back for a punch, warm, soft hands cupped his cheeks and then a pair of tender lips touched his.
The shock of being so unexpectedly kissed drove all the demon and anger out of him. A sweet, feminine essence filled his nostrils, making his head spin as he breathed her in. It was neither Kody nor Casey he tasted. And the kiss she gave him was so hot that it awoke every male hormone in his body.
Growling deep in his throat, Nick lost himself to the wonderful sensation.
Until someone hit him on the shoulder. Hard. His anger renewed, he turned with a curse to find Casey glaring at him.
The stern expression on her face told him she wanted to carve his heart into pieces. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Shocked and confused, Nick glanced back to the woman in his arms. The instant he saw who it was, his stomach hit the ground. No, it couldn’t be.
Simi?
Saint merde!
With a tender smile, Simi moved in to kiss him again.
Nick jumped back three feet. The one thing that his future self had all but beat into him was that he had to stay away from Simi. She was to be kept off his menu for all eternity. No matter what.
Simi passed a hungry look over him. “You know, Akri-Nick … you taste good even without barbecue sauce.”
Oh, someone shoot me.…
From the look on Casey’s face, he would say she was about to.
But before she had the chance, another gunshot rang out. Simi tackled Nick to the ground, filling his arms with her warm curves again.
Yeah, this was nice, but …
He rolled with Simi to see Alan on his feet, aiming the gun for another shot. Reacting on pure instinct, Nick conjured a fireball and shot it at Alan. It caught his arm and engulfed it in flames. Alan went down screaming while Nick jerked his head toward Casey, who hadn’t made a single sound since the gun had gone off.
She lay on the ground a few feet from him in a crumpled heap. Unmoving.
No …
Sirens filled the air as the police finally came toward them. Nick paid no attention as he headed for Casey to see if she was still alive. “Simi? Make sure he doesn’t get that gun again.”
Her eyes lighting with joy, Simi licked her lips. “Can the Simi eat his arm? You already toasted it. It just waiting for dinnertime.”
“No, Simi. Don’t.”
She made a sound of utter irritation as she picked up the gun and glared at Alan. “You are so related to akri. No, Simi, no. That’s all I hear. You know, ‘bon appétit’ is a perfectly good phrase, too. And it’s one that makes the Simi a lot happier than ‘no, Simi, don’t.’”
He ignored her irritated monologue and Alan’s cries of pain as he rushed to Casey’s side. Please don’t be dead. He’d never forgive himself if he’d let her die because he was stupid and hormonal. He skimmed her body, but didn’t see any blood.
“Casey?” he breathed as the police descended on the parking lot, filling the darkening sky with bright, flashing lights.
She didn’t respond at all as car doors opened.
“Freeze!” someone shouted. “Put down the gun!”
Nick glanced over to see Simi holding it on Alan, whose arm was now smoldering instead of blazing. Panic made him sick to his stomach as he feared what the demon might do to the police. “Simi, drop it fast and hold your hands up so they can see that you’re not armed.” Not that it mattered. She was actually a hundred times more lethal without weaponry than a battalion at full arsenal.
Luckily, Simi obeyed him.
Still kneeling beside Casey, Nick lifted his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, so that some nervous rookie didn’t accidentally shoot him. “We need an ambulance. Please!”
The police swarmed them.
“What happened?” a female officer asked as she squatted beside Nick.
“We were walking to the Hard Rock for dinner when he and another guy pulled guns on us.” He pointed to Alan, who was telling another officer that Nick had jumped him after he asked Casey for her name. “Not knowing we were being mugged, my friend Simi showed up and startled them. The other guy ran away while I fought that one for the gun and it went off. I dropped it, he picked it up and fired. I think he shot my girlfriend, but I can’t tell. Please, get her help!”
