"Nae, I won't having none of it, now. Stop your fussing, Vawn! I mean it!"
Rhibyn bared her jagged gray, bony fangs.
"Really?" Kaziel laughed in a mocking tone. "You think to be scaring me with that patheticness o'yours? What? You going to wash your clothes at the creek, now, and cry 'bout it, too?"
"You're such a bleeding arse!"
"I come by it honestly, I do."
Rhibyn pointed at Jaden. "He'll be the one what turns you in. Mark me words on that. He's a low-lying, worthless piece-o-work what can't be trusted no further than what you can toss him, and you can't even pick his giant arse up."
"Be that as it may, I was sent here to protect him, and you know I will."
"Och, Duw! You were ever half-soaked, boyo! From your first breath to your last. Never be changing your ways."
"Most likely not. Now will you be helping or are we to keep talking?"
She spoke in fast, furious, demonic Welsh that questioned Jaden's parentage, as well as Kaziel's, and all his sense, both common and otherwise.
Finally, Rhibyn calmed. "Of course, I'll be helping you. What kind of monster do you be thinking I am? But swear you'll be getting me out of here, too."
Kaziel scowled. "How is it you're here, even?"
"Was captured and traded."
Tilting his head, Kaziel looked at Jaden. "Can I be taking him from here? Would that be allowed?"
"Why do you keep calling her a him?"
He looked at Jaden as if he were the daft one. "What are you? Blind? Rhibyn's a man."
Jaden swept a skeptical glance over the lush curves of her body. While he'd never seen her naked ... "You sure about that?"
Rhibyn rolled her eyes?
Kaziel bit back a laugh. "Aye, indeed. He was cursed into that body after he broke the heart of a woman, and she killed herself for him. Now he's forever damned to walk the earth in her very image, and cry out for the souls of those about to die to warn others that they will lose what they hold dearest."
"Oh, that's harsh."
Rhibyn ground his teeth. "You've no idea. It weren't even me fault. She preyed upon me until I was near mad with her attentions. The lass was unhinged." Gesturing at himself, he sighed. "And this was her final vengeance upon me. To make sure I'd never have another woman. Ever. I'd have rather she turned me to a goat, to be honest." He turned to Kaziel. "And one smart word from you, man, and you'll be getting it kicked from a woman, you hear me?"
He held his hands up in surrender. But his eyes twinkled with unspoken humor.
"So I take it then that the Robin is short for Robert?"
"Rhyvawn Ddu," they said in unison.
Jaden felt the urge to say bless you. But he refrained from saying more as he led them toward the room where Aeron should be found. "You know, Kaziel ... for someone who couldn't talk, you sure found your tongue."
Kaziel returned to his wolf form.
"He's only silent around those he doesn't know or trust."
"Apparently." Jaden didn't miss the way Rhibyn kept one hand buried in Kaziel's white fur as if afraid the Cwn Annwn would leave him.
They stopped as Jaden passed a door, and heard the sound of Noir's voice coming from inside the dungeon room.
"How can I be weakening? We know who the Malachai is. I sent my siphon. How can I be weaker?"
"It must be something Cam did to protect him. She's been soft toward their bloodline since the day we demanded the life of Kissare for his sacrilege."
Noir snorted. "Longer than that. She's wanted our deaths since the hour of birth. But for Braith, we'd have never survived the other three gods, and well you know it. They'd have wiped us out centuries ago."
Someone stumbled and hit the ground.
"Kadar!"
Jaden froze as Azura used Noir's oldest name. It had to be bad for her to make that slip.
And for Noir to allow her to get away with it. No one was allowed to call him Kadar. To call the dark ones by name gave you power over them. It allowed you to bind them.
Most importantly, it allowed you to banish them. Hence why Noir and Azura were currently imprisoned in the Azmodea--a Nether Realm that existed between dimensions. Forever held out of time and place by Xev's blood.
There had been a time when this plane had been readily accessible by regular portals. But that was long ago. Before war and punishments.
"I need you to summon Thorn," Noir groaned.
"He won't feed you. You know that."
"Yes, he will. Or we will war. More to the point, I will war against his child. And that he won't tolerate. Tell him, he has one hour before I open my gates on Cadegan."
Jaden's mind spun over what Noir revealed. Noir, like Nick, was weakened. Drained.
Could it be from the same source?
A Malachai would strengthen Noir. Not weaken him. He always got a huge boost whenever a new Malachai rose to power. Those raw, untapped powers added to his.
Nothing should be able to drain them both. Simultaneously. It made no logical sense. There was no such creature or device that would do that.
No sooner had that thought gone through his head than a phantom wind whistled down the hallway with enough force that it slammed him into the wall and pinned him there.
Kaziel and Rhibyn were slammed and held across from him. That was Azura leaving this area to carry out her orders.
And it allowed him a chance to see Noir's condition firsthand.
Pale and shaking, the ancient god was on his back, flat on the ground. Jaden had never seen him like this. Not even in battle.
Azura was right to be terrified. This was abnormal. The things that could do this to a god of their magnitude were few and far between.
The Malachai was one of them and he wasn't here. Nor would Nick know how to do that without being shown.
Jared would be the other, and he wasn't here, either. The two of them had specific weapons that they wielded with their powers that could lay low the primals. But those had either been destroyed or were well hidden in the world of man so long ago that no one had seen them in centuries.
Provided they still existed.
And Jaden ought to know as he'd been searching for them as a way to gain his freedom. They were some of the few things he'd give a demon anything for. Break any rule to possess.
But so far ...
Demons were a worthless lot.
"What are you staring at?"
The doors slammed shut in his face, and Jaden and his companions were instantly freed from whatever was holding them immobile.
Thankfully, Azura was preoccupied and didn't consider them enough of a threat to think them behind this. That, alone, saved their lives.
Jaden straightened his clothes with a tug as he met Kaziel's gaze. "This is bad. If Grim and Laguerre have found a way to kill Noir..."
They could unravel the fabric of the universe. Kaziel sent that thought to Jaden.
Jaden nodded. In anyone's hands that kind of power was scary in and of itself. But what truly terrified him was the fact that those two creatures were stupid enough to actually do it, and not care about the consequences.
That's what War and Death were. Indiscriminate killers, without regard to the past, present, or future. They cared for nothing and no one. Respected nothing and no one. They could not be reasoned with.
And while Death was inevitable for everyone, War was not. It could be stopped and extinguished.
Both could be thwarted, avoided, and delayed.
That was what they had to do. Avoid and delay them and put Laguerre down as soon as possible.
Preferably before she got her hands on Nick.
Or Nick's son, whoever he was.
Determined, Jaden picked up their pace as he rushed to find Aeron.
True to his prediction and gut instinct, they found Aeron in the holding cells. And as expected, he wasn't alone.
Kaziel started for him, but Jaden caught him.
"You go in there and you'll get him killed."
br />
"He's right, love." Rhibyn released her grip on Kaziel. "How do we distract them? Shall I have a go at it?"
Jaden shook his head. "They'd attack you if you did, and bring you down. No, for this ... we'll need the big guns. But I don't have control so once I do this, get him, get out, and don't worry over me. Understood?"
What about Zavid?
Rhibyn scowled at Kaziel's question. "The hellhound?"
You know him?
"Oh, yeah. They've been having a time with him," Rhibyn said bitterly. "Grim is a twisted beast. Livia even more so."
"He needs to return to the other side with Aeron and Kaziel."
"Easier said than done. That one is officially dead. You know the rules about removing the dead from Azmodea."
Jaden laughed bitterly. "Oh, sweetie, bringing the dead things back are what make me so coveted." Lowering his head, he summoned the Verlyn that lay dormant inside him. He tapped the primal Source powers that had once ruled him.
The powers he hated most.
They were what had allowed him to harm his own children. For whenever they ruled him, nothing else mattered. He had no heart or soul. No compassion.
Like Death, he couldn't be reasoned with or ran from. He was a creature of cold, callous rationale. The greater good was all that mattered.
In this form, he would sacrifice anything for the world.
Even his own children.
Cold comfort to know that his sons didn't really hate Jaden. It was the Verlyn who curled their lips and filled their hearts with contempt.
Because when all was said and done, he was the Verlyn. And all those despicable things the Verlyn did, were by his hand, too.
And when he wrenched the door from the hinges, the demons inside scurried like rats from a sinking ship.
Aeron, however, even though he was bleeding and bruised and barely able to hold up his head, didn't flinch at his approach. Rather the ancient god met his gaze as an equal.
"You don't scare or impress me. Take your theatrics and go. I've no use for you."
Jaden tsked. "Since you're what I've come for, I can't be doing that."
Aeron was stunned silent as the primordial, ancient being reached for him. As an older god himself, he'd heard many tales of the primary ones, but he'd never met one before.
He was not disappointed.
Seven feet tall and extremely well-muscled, Verlyn was said to be the firstborn of them all. The oldest, most powerful. Deadliest.
Dressed in a long, black coat with a high-standing collar that was trimmed in silver ... silver that appeared to be stained by blood, the ancient god had shaved his head smooth to show off a wealth of dark, tawny skin. Symbols were tattooed down the center of his skull, culminating into a sharp point right between his eyes. His right eye was ringed with black and from the bottom of it was another set of symbols that went down his cheek to his chin.
The only color on his body was a splash of a bright green shirt he wore beneath the black coat. A vibrant green that matched the same color as his one single eye. While the other was a deep, dark brown.
A deeply unnerving and unexpected contrast.
With a terrifying ease, the god ripped off his manacles to free him.
Aeron started to fight, until he saw that Kaziel was with him. "Kaz?"
Aye. We've come to take you home.
"We?"
Rhibyn stepped out of the shadows. Aeron was even more stunned by his presence here. "I don't understand."
Verlyn laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "My sons have bought your freedom. Remember what you owe them and treat them accordingly."
"Your sons?"
"Daraxerxes and Malphas."
Aeron choked on the last two names he'd ever expected to hear from the mouth of this powerful, primal god. Honestly, a part of him had thought Nick would have to be one of the sons. That would have made much more sense.
But them?
Why hadn't Caleb or Xev ever mentioned the fact their father was Verlyn?
Now those were some bragging rights.
Quickly, Verlyn led him from his cell.
In the dark hallway, he paused to look back at Rhibyn. "Where's this Zavid?"
"In the arena."
Verlyn cursed. "Of course he is." He clenched his teeth before he spoke again. "We'll have to move fast while Noir is incapacitated and Azura distracted by her errand. That at least works in our favor. But the minute they're not, you'll have to run for it. Zavid or no Zavid. Understood?"
They nodded.
With that, he led them toward the arena. It was where Noir sent the souls of those he cared least about to be entertainment for the others. All manner of violence was practiced here. Gladiatorial blood sports being the most common.
Aeron had no idea which poor soul might be the hellhound they sought. Not until he heard the chanting that came from the current fight where a dark-haired man wearing only a pair of ragged jeans was battling a demon. The man was ferocious and fought with the heart of a Fomorian.
He lifted the demon up, tossed him over his shoulder, and came down with a vicious pile driver so jarring, Aeron winced in sympathetic pain.
Even though they had yet to meet, he knew instinctively that this was the one Nick had saved.
Glancing at his companions, he jerked his chin toward that fierce combatant and spoke to them for confirmation. "Zavid?"
They nodded.
Oh, goodie. He was going to be a fun one to wrangle.
"So how do we do this?"
"Well, we have to wait for..." Verlyn's voice trailed off as Zavid ripped the still-beating heart from the demon's chest. "Never mind."
Aeron passed an impressed look to his friends. "I like him already."
Vawn snorted irritably. "You would, like."
"Och now, with you. There was a time you would have, too." Aeron cocked his head back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Long story, that. Not in a mood for it. Buy me a firkin of ale and we'll talk, now, in a minute."
"All right, then. Plan to hold you to that, and a full firkin, it is. Two actually. One for each hand."
Verlyn made a face at their rapid-fire conversation. "At what point do you people start speaking English?"
Vawn snorted. "Fancy that one, eh? What with the accent he has on him. Can't understand a single word he says half the time."
Aeron made a peculiar noise. "Just wait 'til you get around the Malachai's friends, Bubba and Mark. There's an accent for you, what'll make both ears bleed. And your noggin ache."
Suddenly, one of the demons turned toward them.
Too late, Aeron remembered he wasn't supposed to be out and about. Sadly, that particular demon hadn't forgotten it.
Before they could move, the demon cried out an alarm to his friends to attack them.
CHAPTER 15
Nick slowly entered Menyara's small duplex, just in case there was a trap waiting. Which there was, but luckily it was her normal one that she had set to keep out the unfriendlies they normally had to fight.
The walls lit up at his presence, activating the protection spells. Since he was known and not here to do harm, they slowly faded back to blend in with the paint.
Turning on the lights, he allowed his friends to enter behind him.
"No one's been here."
Kody bit her lip. "Why would they attack the shop? It seems like she'd be stronger there than even here."
Nick picked up an old photo of him with Menyara from his third birthday party where he was sitting on her lap, wrapped in her arms. She'd kept it on her shelves as far back as he could remember. He had one identical to it in his own bedroom. "Maybe because they could get in there. This is personal space. Evil can't enter here unless invited. The store's neutral ground where the protection sigils aren't as strong. They could get in and up close before she'd be alerted to what they really were."
"Yeah, I guess that's true." Kody wrapped her arms around herself as they looked about for clues. br />
That action concerned him. Kody only did that when she was emotionally hurt and needing comfort. Nick set the picture down and drew her into his arms. "You okay, cher?"
She let out a shaky sigh. "Tired of burying loved ones. It's just stirring bad memories."
Nick flinched as her words awoke flashes in his own mind. He saw his future home and his mother ... He staggered back from the image of her death and shook his head to clear it of an event that he couldn't bear to think about.
"Whoa, Nick! You okay?"
"Yeah, another vision. I'm starting to wish I'd never touched that Eye. Just reminds me why drugs are a bad idea. I can't stand this. Who in their right mind would intentionally do this to themselves?"
She rubbed his back, then frowned. "You're burning up again." She placed her hand to his cheek. "You feel all right?"
"My hands are cold. Other than that, I'm fine."
Kody took his hand into hers. "That's not cold. It's arctic.... Caleb, feel this."
Frowning, he stepped over and did as she asked. His jaw dropped. "You're like a corpse."
Suddenly, he heard whispering in the aether around him. Subtle and light, it was barely audible. Only his Malachai powers could detect it.
The room and his friends faded. He was no longer in Menyara's home ...
He wasn't sure where he was. It was somewhere he didn't know. Some place he couldn't identify.
Then, he saw Acheron ...
No, not Ash. This man had short, curly blond hair and blue eyes, instead of Ash's swirling silver ones. But other than that, he was identical. Same towering, six-foot-eight height. Same athletic warrior's build. Dressed in black armor that was a cross between ancient Greek and futuristic Kevlar, he stormed inside a palace Nick had never seen before to face a gorgeous blond woman. Her pale blond hair glistened in the darkness. It was so dark here. As if no light could reach this place.
Her gown was made of an ebony material so lightweight that it floated over her body like a cloud. She was the epitome of a regal queen and yet power and fury emanated from her. When she turned to face him, she held the same swirling silver eyes of Acheron, and features that were the feminine version of both his and Styxx's.
"What are you doing here?" Her gaze went from him to the army of Charonte he'd brought with him.
"Acheron sent me to evacuate you."
She laughed. "Where? I can't leave. He knows this."
"Ambrose is opening a gate for you. He and Acheron are going to face Cyprian's forces."
Her gaze softened as she swept his loyal body with her mercurial gaze. "Where's your family?"