He turned to Caleb. “That wasn’t Brynna, was it?”

Caleb shook his head. “That was someone’s idea of a sick joke.”

Speaking of sick, Nick felt ill over it. His stomach heaved in sympathetic agony for her. “Can you tell who?”

He did that weird head cock move as if he were listening to a song only he could hear. “No idea. But it was done for sheer malice.”

“Brynna will die when she finds out.”

“I know.” A tic started in Caleb’s jaw. “Can you feel the hatred behind it?”

“Now that you mention it … is that what the icky tickling is down my spine?”

Caleb nodded.

Nick sighed heavily. Well at least he knew what was causing that symptom. “Is it demonic?”

“No. This is human evil. Demon hatred comes with a distinctive odor to it.”

“Yeah, well, this stinks, too.” Nick was repulsed by whoever had done something so vicious to someone so kind. Why would anyone hurt Brynna so? In all the years he’d known her, he’d never heard Brynna say a mean thing about anyone.

Not even him.

“All of you!” Tendyk snapped. “Line up in the hallway and be silent. Stone, I want you to go to the office and tell Mr. Head that I need him down here, pronto.”

Laughing, Stone went to obey.

Nick reached for his backpack.

“Leave it, Gautier,” Tendyk snapped. “No one is to take anything out of here.”

Nick hesitated. His grimoire and pendulum were in his backpack, along with his Malachai dagger. If his bag was searched and they happened upon those …

It would get ugly, especially since his grimoire was written in blood. Granted, it was his blood. But adults didn’t seem discriminating when it came to kids bleeding on things during school hours.

I’ve got it covered, Caleb said in his mind.

Releasing a relieved breath, Nick headed outside with everyone else.

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest as they lined up against the wall of bright red steel lockers. “You know what the only thing worse than an evil demon is?”

“My mother when she’s really ticked off at me, especially when it’s justified.”

Caleb snorted. “No, Nick. Human cruelty. All the centuries I’ve lived, I’ve never understood it. Instead of banding together, your kind seems ever determined to tear each other down. And for what? Jealousy? I just don’t get it.”

And coming from a demon, that pretty much said it all. “You’re not seriously telling me that demons are never cruel?”

“Some are. But you know who they are, and you see them coming. You can smell them from days away. Humans, on the other hand, are insidious. You don’t see it coming until they’ve stabbed you in the back and through the heart.”

Nick scowled at his implication. “What are you saying, Cay?”

“I can’t tell who did this, but I can tell why they did it. This was meant to shame Brynna and hurt her to the deepest level.”

And as those words left Caleb’s lips, Nick became aware of the conversations around him.

“I told you Brynna was a slut. My mother said her mama was one, too.”

“I always knew her goody-two-shoes persona was an act.”

“Man, I wish I’d known she’d do that. You think she’s busy Saturday night?”

Nick cringed at their ugliness. “It wasn’t Brynna,” he said defensively.

Mason scoffed at him. “You’re an idiot, Gautier.”

“Yeah,” another student concurred, “didn’t you see that in there?”

“With farm animals, too! Oh my God, I’m so disturbed.”

“You are? Imagine how that horse felt.”

They all burst out laughing.

Nick started to respond, but Caleb stopped him.

“Let it go.”

That was easier said than done. “Brynna’s my friend.”

Before Caleb could comment, the principal stalked past them and into the room. Nick stood on his tiptoes so that he could see Tendyk show the principal the horrific montage through the window in the classroom door.

His pocket started vibrating. Nick pulled out his Nokia 9000 and flipped it open to see he had a new e-mail. As he tried to access it, his phone blew up with texts about Brynna and the photographs. Apparently, their classroom wasn’t the only one spammed with that filth.

An instant later, a door down the hallway opened. Brynna ran out, sobbing hysterically. Laughter from her classroom rang in the hall and mixed with the laughter of the jerks around him. Laughter that was only drowned out by a few dickweeds making offers to her.

His heart aching, Nick started to go after her and calm her down.

Caleb caught his arm in a tight grip. “I can’t stress enough to you that you need to stay out of this.”

“Why?”

“Use your powers, Nick. Look at what’s about to happen.”

Nick glanced around until he found something shiny enough to use for scrying … the silver on the water fountain. It wasn’t very big, but it was enough that he could focus his powers with it.

And there in that small, two-inch strip, he glimpsed the horror that was about to become Brynna’s life over this single act of cruelty.

In that moment, he completely disagreed with Caleb. “She needs a friend.”

“Yes, she does. But right now, the administration is looking for someone to blame for this. You walk in there too soon and this will be hung around your neck. Trust me.”

That would be his luck, too.

Even so, Nick would deny it if not for the fact that Caleb had a lot more life experience to draw from. You didn’t argue colors with Picasso. Car facts with Richard Petty. And you definitely didn’t question human behavior with Caleb.

Standing down, Nick felt that strange sensation again. While Caleb had assured him this was human in origin, he wasn’t so sure.

There was something else here. Something dark. Cold.

Lethal.

And it wasn’t Caleb.

CHAPTER 3

Adarian froze as he felt a sensation he hadn’t experienced in thousands of years. For a full minute, he didn’t move as he tried to pinpoint it. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it belonged to Noir’s primary guardian. But he’d made sure when he escaped the dark lord’s Nether Realm that the only creature who could find him would be punished to the point he’d never be able to track him down.

No, it couldn’t be Seth. Seth was still being tortured. Noir would never take a chance on sending Seth after him.

This was something else.

Where are you…?

More to the point, What are you?

He felt the creature pulling back before he could locate its exact position. Had it detected him? That was always his biggest concern. While he couldn’t be defeated openly, everyone was susceptible to a sneak attack, especially when they didn’t know what was stalking them.

“Malachai! You have a visitor.”

His gut tightened. Was the visitor the one he’d sensed? Or was it someone or something else? His senses and powers on full alert, he allowed the guard to cuff him so that he could be escorted to the visitation center.

As one of the most ferocious and feared inmates in Angola, he was always heavily guarded and never allowed near civilians without being fully shackled. Something he found hysterical since the only thing that kept him here was himself. There were no walls built by man that he couldn’t tear down with a whisper. No chain forged he couldn’t melt.

But he chose to live here for several reasons. The primary one being that all of this concentrated human malice cloaked his presence from those who were searching for him. The inmates’ negativity and hostility also fed his powers. With so many willing victims and predators on tap, his juices never thinned. He always had someone feeding him.

To a demon, this was paradise.

The guard opened the door and stood back so that Adarian could enter the small cubicle. As he sat down, the lights dimmed and he was allowed to see his visitor on the other side of the glass.

Adarian glared at the blond man who was drumming his fingers idly against the tabletop. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me to keep you posted.” That gravelly tone was spoken at a level that no human could hear. Only a demon.

And while he’d wanted updates on his son, he’d assumed they’d come through Caleb or in his cell at night. Not out in the open like this. The last thing he needed was for someone to identify the creature in front of him.

“Then speak and be quick about it.”

His visitor arched a brow at Adarian. Shifting slightly in his chair, he caused a portion of his black button-down shirt to fall open, revealing a grisly skull tattoo in the center of his chest. His black eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t order me around, Adarian. I’m not one of your slaves. I’m your master.”

“No,” Adarian corrected. “You’re my partner.”

“You bargained with me,” he reminded Adarian.

“True, and you accepted, thereby making us equals. You help me. I help you. That exchange of services makes us partners.”

Grim didn’t appear to care for that in the least. But then Death thought himself above everyone and everything.

One day, he would learn the truth. No one was above dying.

Not even Death.

Grim growled in the back of his throat. “I now know where your son gets his most irritating qualities.”

Adarian didn’t comment on that. “How goes his training?”

“Slowly. He lacks focus. Not to mention, whoever blocked his powers did a great job of it. Unlocking them isn’t as easy as it should be. Some of that is because he hasn’t been really hurt. Yet. His mother has wrapped him in a layer of love so thick, it’s hard to breach. The kid needs tragedy in his life. Without that, it’s impossible to push his hatred and make him act on it. He needs someone to hate with a burning passion.”

Adarian curled his lip. He couldn’t afford for his son to be slow. The sooner Nick learned how to hate, the sooner he’d learn to kill, and the quicker Adarian would be able to leave this place and have the freedom he’d craved since the moment of his birth.

Unlike his son, he’d always known who and what he was. His mother had purposefully conceived him to destroy his own father and to buy her freedom from the dark primal gods she served. From the moment of his birth, he’d been breastfed venom and succored on bitter hatred for everyone and everything. As soon as his powers had manifested and he’d killed his father, his mother had sold him to Noir to be enslaved and used by the sadistic god who’d wanted to destroy his enemies and take over the human realm.

Adarian still had nightmares over that quaint experience. If he’d ever possessed a shred of decency or humanity, his time spent in Azmodea had destroyed it.

And those gory centuries spent there were why he’d gutted his mother the instant he’d escaped Noir’s custody. Why he would never allow himself to be enslaved again. Not to anyone.

Even Grim.

But Grim wanted to see the Apocalypse he’d been created for. And like Adarian, Grim didn’t want to be in a subservient role when he delivered it. He wanted to lead. Adarian could respect that.

However, he didn’t really care about Grim. He wasn’t capable of caring.

At least that was the lie he told himself.

“You want your Apocalypse, I want my revenge. Train my boy and deliver his powers to me. I need them.”

Grim nodded. “If you would allow me to kill his mother—”

“No!” Adarian growled. “You harm her and I will rain down a hell on you that you can’t even imagine.”

Grim’s eyes snapped fire from the fury he kept repressed because he knew better than to show it to Adarian. Not even Grim would get away with that. “Fine. But you better remember what I’ve done to work this little miracle for you. I want a piece of Nick when all is said and done.”

“You can have it. Now go and don’t let me see you here again.” Adarian got up and left the room. His original plan had been to use his son to rebuild his army. But this last year, as Nick’s powers had grown, he’d felt his own start to wane—something he couldn’t allow anyone to know.

There couldn’t be two Malachais in existence. It was forbidden. But if he could unlock Nick’s powers and have Death kill his son before Adarian lost all of his, he could feed on Nick’s heart and absorb his powers, too. It would give him the strength of two Malachais.

Then no one would ever be able to defeat him. He wouldn’t have to fear Noir or anything ever again.

That was what he lived for. Then he’d be able to find the ones who’d cursed him to this existence and end that curse once and for all.