Page 8 of Invision


  Bubba laughed. "He's right about that, but Cherise is a great cook. I swear that woman could turn ketchup packets into a gourmet meal."

  His dad got a strange expression on his face at that. "I think he has a fever. You mind if I take him up and get my kit?"

  "Sure. I was going to let him rest in my bed anyway 'til his mama gets off work." Bubba narrowed his gaze on Nick. "I mean that, too. Don't let me catch you surfing porn on my PC up there, or playing no games. You can watch TV, but I want you resting."

  "Yes, sir. Bubba, sir." Nick scooted off the stool and headed for the stairs that led up to Bubba's two-floor condo above his store.

  As he walked up, it struck him just how familiar he'd become with Bubba over the last few years. In weird ways, he was like his father.

  For that matter, he was the only father Nick had ever really known. Even though his birth father had lived with them for a time, Adarian had never felt fatherly. Never felt like he belonged as part of their family. To the day he died, he'd been a surreal stranger.

  From the moment Nick had wandered into Bubba's store to rent time on a computer for a school project, Bubba had been different.

  Like Kyrian and Acheron.

  Nick felt as if he'd always known them. As if they were family from aeons ago, and they had spent lifetimes of history together. Acheron would say it was because lives were a tangled tapestry of overlapping threads that spanned centuries. Souls born and reborn, always reconnecting when they were supposed to and that Nick had met them before.

  Madaug would call it inherited memory. He'd written an entire paper on it for class. In his mind, the DNA of previous generations left a permanent imprint on each person when they were born, and that when two people whose DNA had interacted in another lifetime came together in their current one, some primal part of their anatomy sparked like dormant neurons in the brain firing awake. That was why Madaug thought humans had that feeling of having met someone before or having known them "forever."

  Nick wasn't sure what he thought. He only knew what he felt. His father had left him cold. The saddest part about losing his father was that he didn't grieve over Adarian's passing. And that made him feel defective. Broken.

  Vacant.

  Yet he knew if he lost Bubba or Kyrian, it would be different. Their loss would devastate him. As would Mark's. Or one of his friends.

  Even Zavid and he barely knew him. The thought of his friend being held and tortured ...

  He had to get his powers back and find him. In the back of his mind, he could still see the condition Zavid had been in when they met. Held without comfort or dignity. Treated more like an animal than a sentient being. It was how his father had dealt with people.

  And it was something Nick couldn't stomach.

  Dr. Burdette led him into Bubba's condo and went to the guest room to get his doctor's bag. Nick made a beeline into Bubba's room and grabbed a pillow from the bed and the blanket he kept folded on the chair, then headed for the couch.

  When Dr. Burdette returned, he scowled at Nick, who was lying down on Bubba's faded leather sofa. "You're not going to rest in the bed?"

  Nick wrinkled his nose. "Feels like I'm invading his privacy to be in there. Man's got to have his own space, you know?"

  Dr. Burdette laughed. "You are a good kid ... for a demon."

  "P-p-pardon?"

  He stepped back to glance at the door as if to assure himself that they were alone. "You have one shot to come clean with me, boy, and you better tell me the truth. 'Cause I'll know a lie and a lie will get you killed. What kind are you?" As he spoke, he didn't pull a stethoscope out of his bag.

  Dr. Bruce Burdette pulled out a gleaming gold sword that thrummed with ancient power.

  Moving faster than Nick could counter, Dr. Burdette pinned him to the couch and held him there. "You have three seconds before I take your head."

  CHAPTER 5

  Nick tried to scale up the wall like a spider monkey to escape Bubba's father. But whatever that sword was made of, it kept him locked in place, like some kind of invisible hand slapping him down. Dang those weapons! Couldn't anyone carry regular steel anymore?

  He glared at the older man who was really spry for a pudgy dude. "What are you?"

  "I ask the questions here, demon, not you! You have two seconds left..."

  Just as Nick went to answer, a blur tackled Dr. Burdette and sent him slamming against the floor. He rolled and came to his feet, then swung at his assailant.

  The assailant turned out to be a pissed-off Caleb who ducked and swept Dr. Burdette off his feet again before he disarmed him with a punch so hard, Nick swore he felt it. When Caleb moved in for more damage that appeared to be a planned beheading, Nick sprang from the couch.

  "Whoa, buddy! Whoa!"

  Caleb looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Whoa? Are you friggin' kidding me? He was about to pop your fool head off."

  "Yeah, but he's Bubba's dad. I think ... I mean ... he is, right? He's not possessed? I can't tell. My powers are really crap at the moment."

  Caleb angled the sword he'd taken at Dr. Burdette. "Yeah, he's human. Not that I count his breed as particularly humane. He's a demon-hunter. That makes him your enemy, Nick. Let me kill him. Do us both a favor."

  "No! Again, he's Bubba's daddy. I can't do that to the man or his mama." He scowled at Caleb. "How'd you get here anyway? Or know that I was in trouble?"

  He gave him a droll stare. "Seriously? I can't let you out of my sight without you getting, and I quote you on this, Nicknapped by something that wants to eat you, cage you, or possess you. So I've learned to keep an eye on you and I've been trailing you since the second you left school. 'Cause I knew you were going to find trouble. And look," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he gestured at Bubba's father, "lo and behold, you did."

  Dr. Burdette glared at Caleb. "You're a Daeve. Esme Daeve, with something a lot more powerful backing it. Otherwise, I'd have had you."

  Caleb scoffed. "Hardly. Don't flatter yourself or insult me." He bared his fangs at him. "Now it's your turn for full disclosure. Give me a reason not to bleed you out at my feet."

  He pulled his sleeve back to show a faint scar where a scar appeared to have been branded at one time. "I was a Hellchaser."

  "Was?"

  "Earned my freedom." He slid his gaze to Nick. "But you're right. I have the blood of a Necrodemian, too. That's what you're reacting to."

  "A what?" Nick asked, trying to follow what was an impossible discussion.

  Caleb glanced at him, over his shoulder. "Bubba isn't quite as crazy as we thought, Nick. Well, he is, but you know, zombie hunting notwithstanding.... Reason why he does some of what he does, and why the things that chase you also chase him? He's a natural-born Hell-Hunter. But like you, and unlike his father here, his blood is dormant, which is why I haven't cut his throat--something I assure you, I would have done had I known he was one of them."

  Well, that wasn't even a little bit useful to him. Cay was still hogging all the information and Nick was as lost as a three-year-old in a snowstorm.

  Caleb lowered the sword and held his hand out to help Dr. Burdette to his feet. "Which line are you part of?"

  "Michaelson."

  Caleb let out a scoffing laugh. "Should have known. That explains so much about Bubba."

  Nick scratched at his ear. "Glad someone knows what's going on 'cause I'm all kinds of clueless over here."

  Ignoring him, Caleb held the sword out to Dr. Burdette, hilt first. "Keep that in your pants. We're on the same side. Nick's girlfriend is an Arel."

  His jaw went slack. "How's that possible?"

  "I ask myself that every morning when I get up and she hasn't killed him. Not so much for being a demon as for being an idiot, but that's another discussion."

  Nick sputtered indignantly. "Thanks, Cay. Way to bolster my teen ego."

  "Yeah, right. There's nothing wrong with the ego of anyone who'd dare wear that shirt in public and not die instantly of
mortification. Or bad-taste poisoning." Rubbing a hand over his face, Caleb let out a tired breath and turned back toward the doctor. "So, you're the real reason Bubba's wife and son were murdered?"

  Dr. Burdette winced as he straightened some of the items they'd knocked over. "Yeah. It was an old enemy after me. I'd just left town and thought I'd covered my tracks, so that none of them could follow me. Somehow, the demon tracked my scent to Michael's and found her there alone, with Little Hank."

  Tears welled in his eyes as they filled with utter misery and guilt. The kind that left a mark on the soul, forever. "She was completely unprepared for what I unknowingly led to her door. And you've no idea how much I hate myself for what I did to my child and grandchild. What I did to Melissa. I should have told Michael long ago what we were. But I never thought the blood would taint him."

  "He doesn't know?" Caleb asked.

  "No. How could I tell him after that? He'd hate me forever for not warning him, and I can't blame him for it. I hate myself enough for both of us."

  Nick saw the same pain play through Caleb's dark eyes. No doubt, he was thinking about his own wife and what had happened to her when he'd left her to fight in a war he'd wanted no part of. An ageless war he was still having to fight, that had cost him everything and left him with nothing, except physical scars, and memories so painful he couldn't stand to think of them.

  Not that Nick didn't understand himself. It was the same fate that would eventually claim his beloved mother at the hands of his own enemies if he didn't find some way to derail a future that left him screaming in his dreams as much as Caleb's nightmares from his past.

  Caleb stepped closer to Nick, as if to protect him. "How long were you a Hellchaser?"

  "Ten years."

  Nick frowned. "Wait, what?"

  "Yeah, I'm agreeing with Nick. How's that possible? No one gets a term that short."

  "You do when you sell your soul for someone else's benefit and not your own personal gain."

  Nick cleared his throat meaningfully. "All right, back the train up, conductors. I need some explaining. I know when we freed Zavid, there was a Hellchaser after him who wanted to drag him back to his prison realm ... But that's the extent of my knowledge on this subject matter--y'all are making me feel like I'm in Chem class again with them weird doodads on the board. I take it there are different kinds of Hellchasers?"

  "Sort of," Caleb finally explained. "Hellchasers are damned souls that Thorn, for whatever reason, believes can be redeemed. He makes a pact with the Mavromino to salvage those souls, if he can. And if everyone agrees to the terms, those souls are allowed to work off their debt to Thorn. If they keep their noses clean and behave, at the end of their term, they're set free to live out normal, happy lives."

  "That doesn't sound so bad."

  Dr. Burdette let out a bitter laugh. "You've no idea the things the other side sends after us to reclaim us. They know every thought, every fear. Every desire. And they use it all against you. It's the worst hell you can conceive. They're completely unrelenting and highly imaginative."

  Caleb nodded. "Yeah. They are bad. I'm on a first-name basis with a large number of them." He rubbed at his temple. "So how did you end up in Thorn's clutches?"

  "I bargained my soul for my son's life."

  Nick's jaw went slack as he finally understood at least part of this. "When Bubba had that really bad wreck with Hank in college?"

  Hank had been Mark's older brother that Bubba had named his son for. Bubba's lifelong best friend who'd been killed in the crash. It was something no one talked about, but it haunted both Bubba and Mark, and was why Bubba was so protective of his "sidekick," and why the two of them had become as close as brothers.

  Why they might fight like an old married couple, but if anyone so much as lifted an evil eyebrow in Mark's general direction, Bubba would lay them out cold.

  His father nodded. "Michael almost died that night, too. It didn't happen exactly the way he remembers it ... that was part of my bargain. I didn't want my boy to have any worse guilt from it than what he already does."

  Dr. Burdette paused as if his emotions overwhelmed him. When he spoke again, his voice trembled. "They'd already told us to pick out funeral clothes for Michael. Said he wouldn't make it through the night." A tear slid from the corner of his eye. "You've no idea what it feels like to hear those words about someone you love...."

  Caleb laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I do. Trust me."

  He wiped at his face and sniffed back his tears. "Anyway, from the moment Michael was born and I saw those aged, celestial eyes of his, I knew he carried the bloodline, and that he was one of the chosen who might be called on one day to fight the unspeakable horrors no one should know walks in the daylight with us. I did everything I could to keep him as far away from all of it as I could. Moved him away from my family, kept him shielded and ignorant of the things we deal with daily. Yet somehow, evil like you always seeks him out, no matter where he goes."

  "Excuse me?" Nick asked. "I do have feelings, people!"

  Rolling his eyes, Caleb shook his head. "Yeah, Nick's not the one you need to be fearing.... But go on."

  He let out a tired breath. "A part of me always believed that it was why Michael had that wreck. It was them trolls going after him that night, either to get to me or him before he became active and aware of his powers."

  "Probably." Caleb shook his head in sympathy. "Who'd you summon for your bargain?"

  "Kaiaphas."

  He made a noise that said Dr. Burdette had chosen poorly. Either that, or the demon had mutated into a hen and was about to lay an egg.

  With Caleb, just about anything was possible.

  Groaning and covering his face with his hand, Caleb stared at Dr. Burdette from between his spread fingers. "Why in the name of all unholy would you summon that jackass?"

  "He answered and no one else did," he said simply. "My blood wasn't even dry on the contract before Thorn showed up, screaming the deal was invalid and that it went against whatever it is they have for a code. For whatever reason, he took up my cause and was able to negotiate a reprieve because I'd done it with noble intentions."

  "You're lucky. Thorn doesn't often do that."

  "Yeah, I know. It's why I still hunt for him, from time to time. I feel like I owe him that much."

  "If you knew what he has to bargain with, you'd realize you owe him a lot more than that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Nothing." Caleb returned to Nick's side. "You feeling any better?"

  "Nope and I'm a lot worse with all this confusion. What's a Hell-Hunter?"

  Caleb growled deep in his throat. "Like a dog with a mangy, old bone. You never know when to let it go and bury it."

  "How is it that he knows so little?"

  "He's part Sephiroth."

  Dr. Burdette went stock-still for several seconds before he shook his head. "That's impossible."

  "And yet here he stands. A total contradiction of everything a Malachai should be, because he carries the blood of a half-Sephiroth mother."

  With a scoffing laugh, Dr. Burdette crossed his arms over his chest. "And that makes as much sense as my existence does, so I'll shut up about it."

  Turning around, Caleb finally took mercy on Nick. "To answer your question, you've actually met some Hell-Hunters, you just didn't know it, and luckily, they didn't know you, Mr. Mortal Enemy, bane of their entire existence."

  "Okay.... Where did they come from?"

  "They were a necessary evil after the Bellum Magnus. Your great ancestor had unleashed so many demons during the first war and corrupted them that we couldn't corral them all back into their respective holes. Much like Artemis and her Dark-Hunters, the Kalosum designated warriors who would be charged with hunting them down and either returning them to their prisons, or killing them. The first group was hand-selected from volunteers. They'd been among some of the best warriors and heroes of the Bellum. And because they knew the inherent dangers of the creatu
res they were pursuing, they understood that their lives would be short. You don't hunt that level of bad-ass for long, without losing a fight and your life. The Kalosum knew there wouldn't be any way to maintain a constant supply of warriors with their same skill set and strength. No way to adequately train replacements in time."

  "So like a Malachai," Dr. Burdette said, picking up the explanation, "they agreed to have their ouisa and souls bound to Seraph medallions and swords. Upon their death, those medallions call to another family member the medallion deems worthy to pick up their swords and fight. Their lure is undeniable and once you take the medallion in your hand, you're screwed."

  Caleb gave a bitter laugh. "You don't get to back out of it. The only way is if Gabriel refuses to let you fight. He, alone, has the ability to call the Seraph out of you and return it to the medallion before your death."

  Oh, goodie. That didn't sound like fun. "So after they possess you, what happens to the person you were?"

  "It's not possession," Caleb said quickly. "Again, it's like you with the Malachai. They gain the memories of their predecessors so that they can call on their knowledge and strength to fight the demons they have to go after ... you know, Nick. It's a cheat code to take the big monster at the end of the game without having to bank experience points."

  "The more demons we defeat, the stronger we become."

  "Yeah," Caleb said with an odd half laugh. "And if one of them can put down a Malachai, he'd be the hum-daddy of them all. Which is why, kid, we need to keep you far away from them."

  "Duly noted. Avoid Hell-Hunters, pointy objects, and any hell realm, hell mouth, and babes wielding swords ... except for the one I'm currently dating."

  "You're really dating an Arel?" Dr. Burdette asked again.

  "Yeah."

  "The world makes no sense." He glanced at Caleb. "It's the End Times, isn't it?"

  "That's what we're trying to avoid."

  Now that Nick was sure his death wasn't imminent, he sat down on the couch. "You're not going to try and exorcize me or anything while I rest, are you?"

  "You sling holy water on him, you'll be extremely disappointed. I'm rather sure his mother fed it to him in his baby bottle."

  "No, she didn't, Malphas. That was frankincense oil. Learn the difference."

  "Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to confuse them." Caleb rolled his eyes.