Nice save.
Kody slid an irritated frown toward him. Don't take that tone with me. I'll have you know, I'm fluent in Arabic, too. My dad spent a number of years living in North Africa and traveling among the nomadic tribes there.
That was something he hadn't known before. Weird.
"I'm impressed," Shon said. "You have no trace of an accent. How did you manage to be so lucky?"
Kody shrugged. "Good genes. While my parents pick up languages fast, they never could quite shake their accents. But my brothers did."
Brynna gaped even wider. "I didn't know you had brothers, too. Why don't they go to school here?"
You are letting out all kinds of secrets today. What? Someone cast a truth spell on you? Nick shot his thought to her.
I know! Help me!
Nick cleared his throat. "Her brothers are a lot older. Neither of them live in the state."
"Ah." Brynna nodded. "Believe me, I get it. My family's huge, and spread all over. It's such a pain."
The bell rang.
Nick groaned out loud as students scrambled for their classes. "Where's my hemorrhoid? Not like him to not have attached himself to my hip by now."
"Maybe he's sick," Brynna offered innocently, not knowing that Caleb, as a demon demigod, couldn't get sick.
Well, he had gotten sick once, but there were extenuating circumstances and it shouldn't have happened again.
God, he prayed that hadn't happened again.
As they broke away to head for class, Caleb came rushing down the hall toward them.
Nick arched a brow. "Something wrong?"
"My alarm didn't go off."
"That's odd."
"Yeah," Caleb said sarcastically. "You've no idea. Aeron overslept, too."
That was strange. Lucky Charms Legolas would give Nick's mom a run for her money on his ability to keep accurate time and never be late. Not to mention, he kept a rigid military schedule that was terrifying. Instead of a god of war, he should have been one of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Nick screwed his face up. "Zeitjagers again?"
"Not funny."
"Really not trying to be."'Cause time guardians carrying adamantine sickles they used to behead those who abused the time sequence weren't something to joke about. Especially not when they looked like jacked-up plague doctors that had escaped from some voodoo horror movie on an acid trip.
And they dripped blood all over your only pair of shoes while they followed you around like gruesome shadows you couldn't shake.
Yeah, Nick would never joke about that.
Maybe there was a good reason for having more than one pair of shoes, after all. Girls might be on to something with that.
He was still having nightmares and flashbacks from his last encounter with those creepy things.
"You know," Nick said slowly. "I'm thinking we could all benefit from some therapy. But then given the stuff we deal with ... if we ever began to talk about it to an outsider, they'd lock us up and throw away the key."
"Yes, they would." Caleb led them into class. "And having lived in a cage, I don't recommend it."
"Yeah, but in your case, you had demons eating your entrails on a daily basis."
"True. And your father trying to tear my wings off." Caleb visibly shivered at the memory. "Have I told you today how much I really hated your father?"
"Nah, but I feel you, brother. He was not on my party list, either."
Kody shook her head. "You two are so bad."
Nick choked indignantly. "Oh, like you had any more love for him than we do. As I recall you tried to kill him yourself."
"Your father was a sadistic beast."
"Yes, our point exactly. No one cried when he died." Nick let Kody enter the classroom first before he headed to his usual seat.
"Well, you don't have to say it."
He made demon noises under his breath as he cast a disgruntled look at Caleb. "There she goes trying to civilize me again. What is it with women? Gah! Next thing you know, she's going to tell me not to pick belly lint."
"Nick! That's so gross!"
"See!"
Covering her eyes with her hand, she shook her head. "You're so awful. Thank you, Caleb, for being a gentleman and minding your manners."
"No, problem. Lil housebroke me for you. But if it makes you feel better, Nick, I was much worse than you when she met me."
Laughing, Nick took his seat. And as he dug through his bag, a strange image went through his head.
It was of Caleb and Lilliana. The image was so raw and vivid, and potent, that it froze him to the spot.
Agonizing grief and physical pain laced through him.
Malphas had been wounded in battle. He'd taken a spear straight through his side, and been forced into retreat by the Sephirii forces that had fought against the first Malachai's army.
After a long pursuit, Malphas had finally lost his enemies and had found a place with fresh water. Because of the agony of his injuries and the effort it was taking to remain conscious, he didn't have the strength left to waste his powers on concealing his true demonic form. So he lay beside the stream on his stomach with his black wings spread wide and his red skin scuffed and smeared with his black blood.
His breathing labored, he'd been trying to stave off the bleeding when he heard the sharp gasp to his left. Furious, he'd angled his sword at the interloper, intending to murder whoever had dared disturb him.
But the moment his gaze locked onto those two celestial blue eyes that had been filled with fright, he'd hesitated. Those large eyes had dominated the face of an angel--and not the kind he fought against.
Her nose was a bit large for her pixie-like face, but it hadn't detracted from her beauty at all. That small flaw had somehow made her even more beautiful. She'd worn her white-blond hair pulled back into a long, thick braid, yet defiant strands had come free to curl and tease her skin.
Even though she was obviously terrified of him, she'd bitten her lip and approached him very slowly.
Cautiously.
"Are you injured?"
Stunned that she wasn't screaming or running away, Malphas scowled at her.
"Can you understand me?"
He bared his fangs as she came closer, then hissed, hoping to send her fleeing.
Instead, she froze instantly. "I mean you no harm, demon. I'm a healer. I can help you, if you let me."
Those words baffled him. She was human ... why would she help him? They were enemies in this war. She had to know that. His kind had slaughtered hers by the hundreds, everywhere they found them.
Without fail. Without prejudice.
Without hesitation.
Still she stood there with her arms held out at her sides. No guile. No deception that he could sense. She seemed as sincere as any creature he'd ever known. Not that he'd known all that many who were sincere, or any, for that matter. The majority of his acquaintances were backbiting snakes who would betray faster than a heart could beat.
"Please ... let me help. If anyone else finds you here, they'll call the others to slay you."
"Why aren't you calling them?"
"You've personally done me no harm. I don't believe in holding someone accountable for the deeds of others. Only what he, himself, has done." She moved forward again until she reached the tip of his outstretched sword that was still coated in the red blood of his vanquished enemies.
Only then did she hesitate as she saw it.
Malphas lowered the tip to the ground, and let the sword fall from his hand. He tucked his black wings down by his sides, then hissed as that action caused more pain to slice through his abdomen.
With the most tender expression anyone had ever given him, she knelt by his side and laid a gentle hand on his cheek. It was the first time in his life anyone had given him such a touch. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe as unknown feelings went through him. More than that, her skin smelled of rosewater and honey. A delectable scent that awoke a fierce hunger in his
soul.
Yet it wasn't for her blood or bones.
He wasn't sure what he wanted from her.
"You're burning with fever."
He couldn't believe that she didn't recoil from his unnatural bloodred skin. Or long orange hair. Rather, she cupped his cheek and stared into his yellow demon eyes without flinching as she wiped away the black demon's blood on his cheek and lips.
"Can you stand?"
He nodded.
To his even greater shock, she helped him to his feet. And when her gentle hand brushed against his black wings to help support him, he was lost to her kindness. "There's a cave where I played as a girl, just over that hill." She jerked her chin to show him the direction. "No one ever goes there. They believe it's haunted. You should be safe to rest within its shelter, and I can tend your wound and bring you food."
"I still don't understand why you would help me."
"Because you need it."
He shook his head. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
"Petrified."
And she should be. He towered over her frail, fragile human body. It would take nothing to break her into pieces and use her blood and bone marrow to restore his strength and heal his injuries. He'd torn apart men twice the size of her, and those were trained warriors who'd been armed war heroes.
Yet here she stood ... unarmed. Defenseless. Her only armor a thin, light yellow flaxen dress that was so thin, he could see the outline of her body whenever the sun passed through it. She didn't even have on a single piece of jewelry she could stab him with.
Nothing.
Even her nails were trimmed to the quick so that she couldn't scratch him. She was as harmless as a little mouse.
A part of him wanted to taste her blood to see if it was as sweet as she smelled. That same part of his soul hated her for daring to stand before him like this--for that innocent trust that said she knew he wouldn't hurt her.
It was as if she dared him to prove he was ruthless and uncaring. Things he'd vowed to himself he would always be. That he would feel nothing for anyone, ever again.
Numb to the world and all its pain.
She was his enemy. The very thing his father sought to protect. Malphas had sworn his sword and army to the utter destruction of every member of her pathetic race. To see them put down like the infectious disease they were.
Humanity ...
The very word was bitter on his tongue.
Yet as he looked down at her and felt the heat of her hand on his skin ...
This wasn't hatred inside him. He wanted to comfort her and chase away the frightened light in her eyes. Even more peculiar, he wanted to know what a smile would look like on that innocent face.
"I won't hurt you, little one." He wasn't sure who was more stunned when those words came out of his mouth.
She or he.
For the first time, the terror faded from her eyes and her gaze softened to warmth. Placing her arm about his waist, she gently helped him toward her cave. "Are all demons as gigantic as you?"
He snorted at her question. "Depends on the species." He sucked his breath in sharply as he stumbled on a hidden bramble, and pain hit him anew. She didn't flinch as he put more weight on her than he'd meant to.
Amazed by her, he gentled his grip on her shoulder, not wanting to hurt her in any way. "Are all women as brave as you?"
Finally, a smile curved her lips, and it was as breathtaking a sight as he'd thought. "Depends on the species."
He'd arched a brow at her flippant, teasing tone. "Well, aren't you a cheeky one?"
"So says my father. It's ever a fault of mine that I don't know my place. But who better to know my place than I, says I? And who so better to determine it? For I will not be hemmed in by anyone else's expectations. This is my life, such as it is. And it will be lived under my rules so long as I have it." She led him into the dark cave where his sight quickly adjusted.
To him, this was home.
Even more surprised by her spirit that was unafraid of the dark he called home, he sat down on the floor while she went to a corner and uncovered a small tinder box. If he didn't know better, he'd think her part demon the way she moved about in the darkness as if she could plainly see.
But it was merely the fact that she was familiar with the place, and knew where everything in it was located. She struck a match and lit a small tallow candle to burn. Holding it aloft, she returned to his side and placed it in a small makeshift sconce she'd created.
Once she could see, she returned to his side and knelt down. When she reached for his armored cuirass, he caught her soft hand with his claws. "What are you doing?"
She gave him a blank stare. "I was going to inspect your injury. Surely, you don't think I could do you harm?"
No, but trust didn't come easy for him. He'd never had anyone who hadn't sought in the past to give him all manner of pain.
That list included his own parents.
Reluctantly, he loosened his grip and surrendered to her care. As promised, she didn't hurt him. Rather she carefully examined his wound then tore away a section of her underdress to bandage it.
That selfless act hit him twofold. One, that she destroyed her own dress for his care. And two that her touch was feather-light and seared him to the core of his rotten soul.
When she was done, she sat back to smile down at him. "You lie still and rest. I shall get you something to eat and drink."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome..."
By the way she said that, he knew she wanted something from him, but he had no idea what.
After a second, she laughed. "What's your name?"
"Malphas."
"Malphas?" she repeated in distaste. "That name doesn't suit you at all."
"How do you figure?"
"You're far too handsome to be a Malphas."
Was she insane? He was completely demon in her presence. The one thing he'd learned early in his life was that humans hated them whenever they wore their demon skins. Everything about his kind was repugnant to the human species.
Yet it didn't seem to faze her at all.
Not even the darkness of his blood or the length of his claws that had been designed to shred human flesh seemed to bother her. She acted as if he were as normal to her as daylight.
And it softened his hardened warrior's heart in a way nothing ever had before. "What name would you have for me, then, little one?"
She pursed her lips into an adorable frown as she considered it. Then, to his complete consternation, she reached up and gently brushed his orange hair back from his face so that she could cup his cheek and study his features. "Caleb."
It left him speechless that she'd instinctively picked a name so close to his summoning name ... as if she could sense it somehow. But more than that ...
"Caleb?" He shuddered. "Why such an awful thing?"
She dropped her hand to the center of his chest. "Because I sense in you a true heart. A faithful heart. And by your wounds and scars, I can tell that you are fearless. So I shall call you Caleb, the faithful, fearless warrior who defends what he believes with everything he has. That is what I see when I look upon you. Not a demon. An ever-courageous, noble warrior. One day, I suspect, you shall look into a mirror and see the same noble man I do."
And with those handful of words, Lilliana shattered the icy barrier that had caged his heart since the moment he'd been forsaken to this harsh bitter world without friend or family. "I can assure you that I will never look into a mirror and see a man there. At least not that I don't scream. Then kill it."
She laughed. "You know what I mean. Now let me see about collecting your sword before it's found and they begin looking for you. Then I'll make sure you have supplies until you're well enough to rejoin your army."
Malphas's breath had left him in a rush as he realized that he'd completely forgotten his weapon.
What the hell?
He'd never in his life set his sword aside. Never been disarmed by anyone.
/>
Until now.
Malphas had set it aside without a second thought. What magick did this human wield so effortlessly that she could ensnare the most lethal demon commander in the entire Mavromino army? For weeks now, he'd been pursued by their deadliest forces. Even wounded he'd put down their best soldiers with minimal effort.
And she had done nothing more than smile and he'd laid aside his sword.
I'm an idiot.
One who expected her to return with enemies to use his sword to kill him. After all, they would need such a weapon, forged by the gods, to damage his flesh, as mortal weapons were harmless against him.
But she didn't. Instead, she returned, just as she'd promised, his weapon in hand and a basket of food for him in the other. Without a single reservation, she'd handed his sword to him. Then given him food and drink, and redressed his wound.
When she finally left the cave later that day, she'd carried his heart with her. A heart he hadn't even known he possessed. With nothing more than a handful of spirited words and a kindness he'd never known, she'd taken the most lethal demon ever spawned by the most vicious, callous creatures the Source had spat out, and captivated him.
Centuries later, Caleb still loved her. He still grieved for her and kept her memory sacred. And he continued to use the name she'd given him to remind himself that his wife, alone, had seen something inside him besides a monster.
Lilliana had taught him to fight, not simply against his father because he hated him, but for his convictions because that was what a man of honor did.
It was the right thing to do.
I pray that you never again reach for this sword, Lord Husband. But should the day ever come when you must return to war, then it should be to protect what you love. Never again for hatred or fear. And never should you battle for vengeance.
Nick felt the same emotions Caleb had felt on the day he'd plastered his demonic sword into the wall of his cottage bedroom. Wrapped in enchanted cloth and bound with a protection spell to keep his enemies from locating him, he'd promised his wife that he was done with battle forever.
Never again would he fight for any cause. His only goal was to remain home with her on her farm, in the guise of a humble human.
But the gods hadn't allowed him that peace. They'd dragged him back to their war against his will. Yet true to his word, he hadn't returned to fight for the Mavromino.
He'd reemerged as a champion for the Kalosum--the side of light. His love for his wife had proven far greater than his hatred for his father, and to please his Lilliana and save her people, he'd fought with his enemies, and protected them with every ounce of his demonic strength.