Everything seemed to move in such cycles.
In his mind, Nick heard Jared’s anguished shout in the past as Takara had been ripped from his hand and he’d been punished for trying to spare Jaden from his siblings. Heard Takara’s own cries of misery when she’d been forcibly pried from his grasp. Whenever a Sephiroth bonded with his or her sword, their partnership was indivisible and eternal. To lose one was like having a limb ripped from the body.
Like Xev’s wings being cut from his back …
Nick choked in sympathetic pain for them both. Even though they were technically enemies, they were also family.
We are destruction. That is our birthright.
Nick drew up short at the feminine voice in his ear. “Who are you?”
Out of the aether of the grimoire, appeared a haunting face. Paler than frost, with eyes of mercury, she reminded him of Acheron and Styxx. Ethereally beautiful, she was fragile in her grace and yet there was a power to her that charged the air around him. It ran through his body, causing every molecule of his being to stand up and take note of it.
Without being told, he knew this was Braith. Renamed Apollymi by Kissare, who refused to call her something that symbolized the shrieking, cold wind that had birthed her when Chaos and Order had first spun together to create her. The Sephiroth had come up with a name that meant the warmth and beauty she signified for him. He would never see her as anything else.
Not even when they’d tortured him for his love of her.
“So you’re Acheron’s mother.” The words were out before Nick could stop them.
Her swirling silver eyes turned red as her white blond hair flared out as if she’d attack.
Nick braced himself.
But something calmed her down. “You’re the friend of my Apostolos …”
That was the name she’d given Acheron on his birth. “I am.”
Her gaze softened. “And you’re of my bloodline. Distantly. He must have sensed that in you.” She walked a small circle around Nick. “It’s probably why he trusted you when it’s not in his nature to do so.”
That was Nick’s take on it, anyway.
Yet as she continued to walk her circle around him, a peculiar sensation went through Nick. One that was unmistakable and draining.
“You’re not Apollymi!” He backed away from the fake goddess. “Who are you?”
Laughter echoed around him. It sent chills over his body. Hallucinating was one thing, but why this?
Whyher?
“You know why.”
He turned to find the other Malachai behind him.
“I’m not going to let you destroy everything! You know that. It’s not in me.”
Cyprian laughed. “You can’t stop it. It’s already happened. There’s nothing you can do. I’ve already gotten away with it.”
“Then why are you here?” Nick smirked, wishing he felt as cocky as he pretended to be. “You think I don’t know the fear I see in your eyes? Yeah, I see your fear …boy. I can smell it!”
Not exactly true. But bluster seemed like a good move right now.
Yeah, that was usually a safe go-to when dealing with anyone other than teachers, his mother, Caleb, Kody or Bubba. They would normally kick his butt for copping this attitude.
Others, however, were normally confused by it.
Or, in the case of Cyprian, taken down a peg. Because they weren’t sure if Nick was bluffing or not. This was the only “lie” he was capable of pulling off with a straight face. Anything else and he was screwed.
For some reason, this one he could do.
