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 …
CHAPTER 3
“So you’re the son of Braith.”
Standing in the middle of an opulent marble hallway, Nick blinked at the rich, melodic voice so similar to Kody’s, and yet the accent was very different. Even so, this woman shared the same bright green eyes that seared him with intelligent curiosity, and a smile that made every part of his body sizzle.
She was just as breathtakingly bold as she walked straight up to him and arched her brow in challenge. “Have you nothing to say to me?”
Not really. He was too amused by the woman who barely came up to his chin. Her white wings twitched.
Her spunk and sass warmed him on every level. “And you would be?”
“Rubati. I’ve come to join the goddess’s guard, but they told me that there were no openings. Apparently, there are so many Malachai here in the city that we’re being sent back home without even being tested for skill. Pity.” Sighing, she turned to leave.
Before he could stop himself, he reached for her hand.
“And why’s that?”
There was no missing the confident gleam in her eyes. “I’m one of the best fighters ever born.”
He laughed.
Faster than he could react, she flipped him onto his back and had a knife at his throat.
Impressed, he stared up at her, knowing that, had she wanted to, she could have killed him. “You made your point.”
“I know.” She stepped away and sheathed her knife. Then she held her hand out for him so that she could help him to his feet.
Thinking to fool her, he tried to flip her in turn.
