Sometimes not even that. It was one power Nick could do without as it’d gotten him into all kinds of trouble over the years. Not to mention, his current “pet” Zavid. Although the hellhound would be the first to protest that label, it was still apropos. Nick hadn’t meant to bind Zavid to him as a servant, but again, as the Malachai, it was just a little too easy to do it.
Sadly, it was much harder to break.
“You forgot one. The most important one, too.”
Nick froze as he ran back through them. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you did. Think about it for a minute.” Then Ambrose ran over the list again. “There are ten powers. You named nine. Necromancy. Perspicacity. Teleportation. Silkspeech. Clairvoyance. Telekinesis. Divination and conjuring. And summoning … That’s nine.”
He was right. ’Course there was a reason why he’d forgotten the last one. It was one Nick didn’t play around with because it was the one he screwed up with the most. And it was the one you really didn’t want to screw up as it had some of the worst consequences, hence Vawn’s predicament of being a guy trapped in the body of a girl. And it’d been the one that had caused his friend Madaug to be turned into a goat for a while. “Transformation.”
“Yeah,” Ambrose breathed. “Transformation.”
Nick froze as he finally understood what his older incarnation was trying to tell him. “Cyprian isn’t in his real body.”
“No. It’s why you can’t recognize him or feel another Malachai around you.”
Just like he didn’t see the Dark-Hunter bow and arrow mark on Ambrose’s face whenever he appeared to him or the Malachai marks. Because they hid those. A Malachai could appear as anyone or anything he chose to.
Like Simi, or any of the Charonte demons. They could have any body or appearance they wanted.
Young. Old.
Crap …
And with a Malachai here, Nick’s powers would be weaker and weaker. His son would drain him until he was too weak to fight. “Why is he here? Do you know? I mean, if he kills me, he won’t be born. Right?”
“You have never learned to ask the right questions, kid. Don’t you get it?”
He faded into the abyss.
“Wait! Come back!”
Nick growled in frustration. “If you know the answer, why don’t you tell me!” He hated whenever they did that crap with him. Why did they have to play these games? Why not spill the beans and let him make soup or toss it?
“I swear I’m getting a tumor from all this!” Nick sighed as he listened to the voices in the aether and tried to sort through the madness of it all. Millions of thoughts came at him simultaneously. A cacophony of complaints, needs and wants. No wonder the gods tuned them out. You had to or you’d lose your mind.
It was unrelenting. People ricocheted through life like random pinballs speeding through one giant machine. Everything about it made him dizzy.
Honestly, he didn’t know how Acheron remained sane. In some ways, he wished Ambrose had never told him about his future.
Closing his eyes, Nick tapped the very powers he’d mentioned. His clairvoyance opened and left him standing over his mother’s body.
Left him in the darkness of his own home, feeling betrayed by Acheron and Kyrian for allowing the Daimons they fought to murder her in cold blood.
More than that was the guilt. He should have been there. Tears streamed down his face as pain lacerated him. His mother had given him life. Had sheltered and protected him with everything she had. And how had he returned her love?
He’d left her defenseless when she needed him most. On the very night when the Daimons had come to his door in the guise of a Dark-Hunter, Nick had been out with the other Squires patrolling to protect strangers.
Not his mother.
He’d left her in the hands of the immortal protectors who’d sworn to keep humans safe from the demons who preyed on them. Trusted in Acheron and his army to shelter the only person he needed and loved.
A woman who had been kind and caring toward all of them. Nick choked on a sob as he saw her throat slashed open and her glazed, glassy eyes that accused him of carelessness.
This was his unstoppable future.
The one pith point he couldn’t change. No matter what he tried, all roads led him here.
