Inferno (8 page)

“Not personally. Contrary to what you think, not all preternatural beings hang out at the local Supernatural Pub looking for humans and dates.”

Nick let out an irritated breath. “That wasn’t what I meant. Do you know all the different kinds?”

“Yes, and we’ve talked about this before. Would you like the list alphabetically, regionally, or chronologically?”

Nick rolled his eyes again. “I would accuse you of being sarcastic, but I have a feeling you actually could name them all in those orders.”

“Yes, I can. But that being said, I don’t know everything about all of them. Some of them aren’t in the human realm so I’ve never had the chance to cross their path. Some are extinct and were so even when I was born. Others are major pains in my posterior more times than they should be.”

A weird chill went down Nick’s spine at that last bit. It was something Ash said about him. A lot. Could Ash possibly know what he was?

No, there was no way. Ash wouldn’t have been so lackadaisical about it if he knew. In fact, given his devotion to humans, Acheron would most likely kill him if he ever learned Nick was a Malachai.

“Acheron? I didn’t know you were still in town.”

Ash turned as Kyrian joined them in Nick and Rosa’s office. At six foot five, Kyrian didn’t look up at many men, but Ash was one of the few. Blond, well muscled, and with features a cover model would envy, he had a presence every bit as fierce as Acheron’s. His blond curls were slicked back and wet from his shower, but he was dressed in his usual all-black high-fashion designer style.

In his human life, Kyrian had been a renowned Greek prince and general. That aura of commanding nobility still bled from every precise gesture he made. Even his stance said, “bow down before me or get your throat cut.”

Ash shook Kyrian’s hand. “Given the strange vibe we encountered last night, I decided to stay on for a bit longer.”

Nick frowned. “What strange vibe?”

Kyrian rubbed at his shoulder as if he’d been injured the night before. “We found a group of Daimons who actually fought back with a great deal of skill, instead of running away like they normally do.”

“Did you get them?”

“No,” Acheron answered before Kyrian had a chance. “Which is another reason I’m staying a little longer than planned.”

Kyrian glared at Acheron. “You know, Acheron, I led entire armies up against Rome’s finest. I think I can handle this without a babysitter.”

“And when you were going up against Rome, I daresay you had more than you, Xander, and Talon in your army.”

“I really hate it when you use logic against me.” Kyrian crossed his arms over his chest.

“Xander?” Nick asked Acheron, wondering about the unfamiliar name.

“Another Dark-Hunter here in New Orleans.”

Nick gaped. “There’s a third Dark-Hunter and you’re just now telling me this?”

“We actually have four here,” Kyrian said. “But Rogue speaks even less than Xander does.”

Nick looked back and forth between them. “And … why am I just now finding out about this?”

Ash shrugged. “Need to know … and you didn’t.”

Yeah, it said a lot about how secretive they were and the fact that as Kyrian’s human Squire, Nick was supposed to be privy to all Dark-Hunter details, especially those that concerned or mattered to him. “Aren’t you guys afraid I’d see one of them and stake them by mistake?”

“Nope,” Ash said. “They’re not blond. That’s the only reason we told you about Talon. We figured if you ran across Xander or Kit, you’d think they were some other species.”

That was the thing about Daimons, since they didn’t intermingle with other species, they were all natural blondes.

“Who’s Kit?” Nick asked with a frown. “Is that another one?”

Kyrian shook his head. “Rogue’s real name isn’t Rogue. His parents weren’t
that
cruel. It’s Christopher Boughy, or Kit.”

“Why does he go by Rogue, then? Is he an X-Men fan?”

Ash sighed. “FYI, I wouldn’t crack that joke around him. I doubt his High Surliness would be amused and he tends to be fast with a blade to the throat. Back in the eighteenth century, he was an English highwayman known as the Black Rogue. Rogue for short.”

“Oh.”

“So, Acheron,” Kyrian said, hijacking their conversation. “What happened to your car? I saw the busted fender on it. How unlike you to crash into anything.”

Nick cringed as Acheron turned toward him with an arched brow.

“Hey now,” Nick said, holding his hands up in defense of himself, “it was not
my
fault. I was minding my own business when that trash can went suicidal, came out of nowhere, and jumped in front of the car.”

“It was on the curb, Nick,” Ash said drily. “Along with a number of screaming pedestrians, running for their lives.”

“That’s
your
story. I’m sticking to mine.… And there ought to be a law about homicidal trash cans, and fines for the people who put them on the street. They’re really dangerous.… Just saying.”

Kyrian shook his head. “And you wonder why I haven’t volunteered to teach him how to drive?”

“I know why you haven’t volunteered. I, on the other hand, need a psych eval for being so stupid.”

“No comment, for I have never been quite so stupid as to intentionally insult
you
.” Kyrian pegged Nick with a grimace. “So, kid, did you get—”

“Right here, boss.” Knowing what Kyrian wanted without his finishing the sentence, Nick pulled the RAM out of his pocket. “I’m going to install it first thing. I also texted Kell about your boots and he said that his Squire mailed them back yesterday, but it’ll be a week on your sword. He’s waiting for a shipment of the titanium he uses to smelt the blades. So then, I checked with Liza to see what she had in inventory. She said that she has a smaller short sword if you want to try it while you wait for your replacement. If you’re interested, I can pick that up before you head out tonight, and I asked Kell to make four more swords as backups so that you won’t have to wait in the future should your primary and secondary get busted.”

Kyrian inclined his head to Acheron. “Worth every penny of his salary.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about cloning him. We could make a killing selling Nick PAs.”

Kyrian laughed, then gave a nod to Nick. “I shall leave you to your duties and go work out until the sun goes down. If you’d like to join me in a bit, I can show you more sword-fighting techniques.”

And with that, he quit the room.

Acheron returned to their previous discussion. “So, is there any demon you wanted to know about in particular?”

Don’t do it.

But before his common sense could prevail over his stupidity, he blurted out the one thing he wanted to know most. “Ever heard of a Malachai?”

Acheron’s jaw went slack, thus confirming he had more than a working knowledge of Nick’s species. “Where did you hear that term?”

Yeah, okay, it was a touchy subject for Acheron, too.

“The demon at my school mentioned one. You know anything about them?”

“More than I want to.”

“Meaning?”

Ash did what he did best—he diverted a personal question into a generic one. “A Malachai is one of the oldest demons in existence. There’s only one left, so it’s not likely you’ll ever come across him.”

If only he was that lucky.

Now to test exactly how much knowledge Ash had of Nick and his father. “Do you know where he is?”

Acheron shook his head. “No one does. He escaped from his master centuries ago and has been in hiding ever since.”

Nick had to give his father credit. He might be a first-rate jerk, but he knew how to shield himself.

“Do you know how he came into being?”

Ash frowned. “You seem to be a little more than just passingly curious.”

“I am. I want to know why the demon was talking about him. Is there something really special about a Malachai?”

“Yeah, if you want to seriously mangle people or end the world as we know it, he’s the one to summon. He was the first of the demonic destroyers and his breed fathered many of the subsequent and best-known evil demons. Luckily, none of the children possess the powers of their fathers. Rather, they’re all watered-down versions of the Malachai.”

“Really?” That wasn’t what Nick had been told.

Ash nodded. “The only exception is the original Malachai bloodline. The firstborn alone can father a child even more powerful than he is.”

All right, that explained Nick’s powers and why they were so dangerous.

“Do you know why?” Nick asked.

“Not really. But I suspect it has to do with the fact that he, unlike the others of his kind, was born from a goddess who had an affair with a Sephiroth.”

“What’s a Sephiroth?” Nick already knew, but if he didn’t ask, Acheron might become suspicious again.

“They were consorts and soldiers of the primal gods. But they were never supposed to breed with them.”

“Then why did they?”

Acheron shrugged. “The goddess wanted a baby and she wanted it to be powerful, but not torn by pantheon politics. So, she conceived a child with her Sephiroth, who was also a demigod.”

“What made the Malachai evil?”

Ash paused before he answered. “While he was born from a mother who wielded dark powers, his father was born of light. So he had a fifty-fifty shot as to which side he’d fall on. Some say he was decent enough until the first war of the gods. To end that war and save the world, the original gods forged a truce that required both the light and dark powers to destroy what remained of their armies. Unwilling to kill her own son, the goddess struck a bargain to spare one Sephiroth and one Malachai. So all of them were put to death, except the Sephiroth who had betrayed his people and her son. Then her son became infused with hatred and turned psychotic when he was ordered by the light gods to kill the Malachai female he’d hidden from execution.”

“He loved her?”

Acheron nodded.

That gave Nick hope. “I didn’t think they could love.”

“You can’t really hate without it. And Monakribos worshiped his beloved Rubati. But when he refused to end her life, the gods tricked him into it. As she lay dying in his arms, she confessed to him that she was pregnant with his child and that by his own actions, he’d killed them both. He begged the gods and, in particular, his mother, to save them, but she couldn’t do it without restarting the war they’d just ended. Instead, she made it so that he could have more children. But if they were born with his Malachai abilities, to keep with the truce she’d agreed to, he would have to die by their tenth birthday or whenever they came into their powers.”

Man, it sucked to be a Malachai.

I am
never
having kids
.

“How did he become a tool for evil?”

“He was tricked into killing the woman he loved, Nick. And his unborn child. The guilt and grief drove him mad and poisoned his blood with hatred and venom. And that’s how you know a Malachai when you come across one. Unless they’re using their powers to conceal what they are, they don’t bleed red. A full-blown Malachai bleeds black.”

That was something to remember. So far, he was red-blooded.… Good. There was still hope for him.

“Does it only turn black when they go evil?”

Ash nodded.

Now Nick knew what to look for. That actually helped a great deal. “Next question. Do they have to go evil?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? Are we pawns to, or masters of, our own destinies? Every being has to make that choice for him or herself.”

“So it’s possible for a Malachai to be good?”

“In theory. As with all other species, it depends on his strength of character, and the decisions he makes.”

For the first time in months, Nick had real hope. Ambrose was right. He could avoid the destiny that awaited him. He didn’t have to become a cold-blooded killer, after all.

Awesome!

“But,” Acheron continued, “it’s not easy to go against your nature. Especially when you’re a creature of destruction. One bad temper outburst, and you lose all humanity. You say and do things you don’t mean to and it’s too late to undo them. Creatures like the Malachai have a harder time than others keeping their noses clean and not giving in to the darkness that’s forever seducing them.”

Nick scowled. “You sound like you have personal experience with that.”

“We all have demons inside us, Nick. The Tsalagi have an old saying—every heart holds two wolves. One is the white wolf, who is made up of love, kindness, respect, decency, compassion, and all the things that are good in life. The black wolf is born of jealousy, hatred, pettiness, prejudice, vindictiveness, and all the poisons of the human personality. The two constantly war with each other for dominance. And one day, one wolf will overtake and devour the other.”

“Yeah, but which one?”

“Always the one you feed, kid. You feed good to it and the white one grows. You feed evil and the black wolf devours. But in the end, you alone make the choice of which wolf you nurture. And that’s true of every species and race.”

Nick nodded.
I can overcome.

No, he
would
overcome. His father and birth didn’t have to define him, after all. He was the one in control of himself. No one else …

“Thanks, Ash. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“No problem. If you have any other questions, you know how to reach me.” Ash turned to leave.

“Wait.” Nick stopped him. “I do have one more. Have you ever heard of a harvester?”

“As in someone who pulls vegetables out of a garden?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “No, like something that goes after demons?”

“Not per se. There are all kinds of creatures who hunt demons for different reasons. It really depends on the demon and its country of origin, as well as that of the hunter. And of course, you have the bounty hunters, which are a separate species entirely.”

Nick didn’t like the sound of that. “How so?”

“If a demon breaks a law from its pantheon or another, or if someone or something wants to own it or control it, they can offer up a reward for either the demon’s capture or death. At which point the bounty hunters come out in force.”