It took Nick a second to understand the creature’s words through his thick, heavy accent. Man, it made Kyrian’s and Talon’s sound mild by comparison. Not an easy feat by any stretch of the imagination.
Dressed in black pants and a long leather coat of an archaic style with a hood that concealed his features completely, the newcomer seemed humongous. Until he stepped closer to Livia and Nick realized he was probably only an inch or two taller than Nick was in his normal body. Their build was about the same, too. Only this guy had an aura about him that would rival Acheron’s for sheer lethal grace. He definitely had a high body count on something other than Castlevania.
For that matter, Nick held no doubt that the guy’s heavy combat boots were probably laced with some victim’s intestines.
Rigid from head to toe, Livia stood up to him without flinching. She raked him with a sneer that said she was unimpressed by his grand entrance. “Oh little boy, do I have to school you on your manners? I know you were thrown out by your mother just minutes after she spawned you, but trust me, I hold even less love of you than she did.”
He stepped closer to her as if trying to intimidate her with his much larger frame. And he did dwarf her. Even so, she didn’t flinch or back off a bit.
“Why do you protect something so weak and ineffectual, Liv? The only place this one can lead us is straight into defeat.”
Laughing, she stepped back and held her hand out toward Nick. “Fine. If you really believe that, take him … if you can.”
Nick gaped at the way she just casually threw him to the … whatever kind of demon, inhuman nightmare creature this was. “Excuse me? I’m not pour chien here, cher.”
Livia didn’t comment as she stepped back, out of the line of fire.
Great. He really was dog food. With no place to run, Nick braced himself for the fight.
An inhuman growl came out from the bowels of that black hood. He held his hands out and lightning sizzled over the creature’s entire body. It intensified and danced around him. Throwing his head back, he let loose a cry of anguished fury. The hood fell down against his shoulders, exposing his perfect features.
Nick held his arms up to defend against whatever attack he planned to unleash. Suddenly, the lightning stopped. For a full minute, nothing moved. No sound came from any of them.
Not even breathing.
Then slowly, the man lowered his arms and raised his head. He curled his lip. “Damn. He really is the Malachai.”
Completely confused by the display of power and free light show, Nick arched his brow as a pair of searing hazel eyes met his gaze. They were the strangest he’d ever seen. Like a kaleidoscope of reddish earth browns and greens. The color reminded him of rust nestled in summer leaves.
But that wasn’t the most peculiar thing about him and his pretty-boy looks. Oh no … This guy not only wrote the book on weird, he printed and owned every copy. Unlike virtually every guy on the planet, his hair wasn’t a single color.
It was three.
He parted it on the left side of his head. The bulk and longest strands of his hair that fell from the part were a very vivid and unnatural dyed bloodred. From his part down the shorter right strands, it was a bright unnatural yellow—like anime hair. That being said, his peekaboo roots, and strands that were laced through in places, were jet black—which had to be his real hair color. Cut short in back and longer in the front so that the red draped over his right eye, his hairstyle gave the impression that the guy was targeting whatever he was looking at. Well, that, and the intense hatred that came from the visible left eye. Yet the oddest part of all was his dyed, arctic blue eyebrows.
Nick started for a snarky Toonami refugee comment until he realized something.
Xevikan’s unorthodox hair and eye color represented each of the six primal gods.
For that matter, he was as perfectly formed as Acheron. His features would be considered beautiful if not for the rugged line of his jaw and the sheer ferocity of his presence. He stood with his legs planted and his body tense as if ready to go to war with the entire world.
Xevikan ground his teeth so fiercely, it caused his jaw to tic. “I can’t believe this is what I’m forced to follow.” Sneering his obvious contempt, he slid his gaze to Livia. “Where are the others?”
“They’re not here yet.”
Xevikan cursed. “Of course not.” He turned his sullen glare back to Nick. “Let me guess … don’t get too comfortable here. This one lacks the same stones as his predecessors? Back into the box we all go?”
Nick went rigid at the insult to his manhood. “Let me guess. Xevikan isn’t the Babylonian term for happy optimist?”
“Swap places with me, Malachai. Just for a week. Then see if you’re still up to cracking jokes about it.”
Biting her lip, Livia sidled up to Nick. “I don’t know, Xev.… This one might let us ride.”
Xevikan scoffed as he lifted his hood and covered his features again. “Get it over with. Send me back.” There was no missing the relegated pain behind those words. The raw anger.
As much as Nick hated to admit it, Xevikan’s resignation to an existence that sounded deplorable brought out his compassion. When his father and Kody and the others had talked about the ušumgallu, he’d envisioned heartless creatures like the hell-monkeys or Adarian, who lived to brutalize others. Scarred and jaded adults who had no ability to feel for anyone other than themselves. But Livia and Xevikan didn’t look any older than his group of friends, or Acheron.
They seemed …
Human.
Vulnerable even.
And that made him very curious about them. “So, Xevikan, which member of my merry band are you?”
Sighing heavily, Xevikan crossed his arms over his chest and stood as rigid as a statue. “What difference does it make?”
Livia answered for him. “He’s your Šarru-Dara, who reigns over blood and fire.”
Suddenly, Xevikan threw off his hood again and cocked his head as if listening to something in the ether. He cut a harsh stare to Livia. “Hear that?”
“What?”
His skin turned as translucent as Nick’s had done when he’d been in the future. Lightning appeared to flash all through his body before his skin tone returned to normal. “It’s our enemies. They’re coming for the Malachai.”
“How do you know?” Nick asked.
“Xevikan is the oldest šarru we have. And he was the first. He knows more than any of us.”
As Livia spoke, Nick saw something flash in his mind. It was an image of Xevikan in armor, with wings, fighting alongside Nick’s demon form. But he wasn’t sure if it was an image from the future or if it belonged to the memory of a previous Malachai.
Xevikan growled before he charged at the wall and vanished through it.
Nick looked to Livia for an explanation.
“He’s after the Arelim who have come to claim your human’s body.”
“Then why are we still here, wasting time? Let’s go!”
She shook her head. “You’re safer here.”
“Yeah, but if they kill my body, I’m screwed. I need that.”
“Oh.” Her nonchalance might have been amusing if his life didn’t depend on her quick action. She took his arm and teleported them back to the bedroom where Nick Two had been treed by her spider form.
Unfortunately, there was no sign of him now. Nick started to ask where he was when he heard a loud crash from the first floor.
He ran for the stairs and tore down them as fast as he could.
As bad as the battle had been in Acheron’s house in the alternate future, it was nothing compared to this fight. Nick tried to join his friends against their attackers, only to learn he couldn’t. Since he didn’t have a body, their enemies couldn’t see him at all. And no matter what he tried, he couldn’t harm them.