Inferno (7 page)

If they only knew the truth.…

They’d probably burst into flames, or have a stroke and die from disbelief.

Pushing that thought aside, Nick got in and fastened his seat belt. “Try to keep it under ninety, okay?”

Caleb laughed as he started the engine, then floored it. Nick held his breath as they took a corner so fast, he was pretty sure two wheels came off the pavement.

“Thinking I should have grabbed a streetcar,” he mumbled under his breath.

Caleb downshifted. “You fight armies of the damned out to slay you, and my driving is what scares you? Really?”

“Have to say that’s a big affirmative.”

Caleb shook his head and laughed. “Don’t worry, Nick. You’re safe as a babe in my presence. I can’t afford to let anything happen to you.”

That would be more comforting if they weren’t careening in and out of traffic in warp drive. What was it with immortals that they loved to speed and weave? Come to think of it, none of them had ever taken or passed a real driver’s license test.…

Help me.

The good news was that it didn’t take all that long to get to Kyrian’s. Especially since they were traveling at the speed of sound.

Nick let out a relieved breath at his safe arrival. “FYI, I think I might have stained your seat. You’ll probably want to clean that later.”

Caleb stopped the car barely a millimeter from Kyrian’s locked wrought-iron gate. “It’s all right. I’ll just buy a new one.”

“All right, then.
Hasta mañana
.” Nick rolled out of the car and grabbed his backpack from the floorboard. He’d barely closed the door before Caleb peeled out.

He didn’t know for sure what Caleb did when he wasn’t around. Caleb refused to elaborate on his free time. Then again, he refused to elaborate on most things.

Just like Nick’s boss Kyrian and his friend Acheron. Another thing immortals had in common, apparently.

You don’t talk much about yourself either.

True. He didn’t like people getting all that close to him. That way, it didn’t hurt so much when they left.

Maybe that was their problem, too. It made sense. An average human life was nothing when you lived forever. Kind of like owning a Great Dane. No sooner did you get good and attached, than old age claimed them and they were gone, and you were all alone again.

Yeah, that would be hard to deal with. Heaven knew Nick had a major death phobia anyway. He couldn’t stand the thought of it.

Trying to put it out of his mind, Nick punched the code into the gate and waited for it to open.

As soon as it was wide enough, he headed up the curved driveway that led to the sprawling white antebellum mansion Kyrian called home. It was an impressive place with wraparound porches, up and down. The kind of house that reminded you of a wedding cake.

And as he walked closer, he had another weird sensation go through him—like some out-of-body experience. He saw himself from high above in the clouds. There was no doubt that was Nick Gautier walking, yet it seemed like some unknown character on a TV screen. Like he was completely detached from his emotions and body.

What is going on with me today?

Thankfully, his phone buzzed in his pocket. That sensation slammed him back into his body and reality, and reconnected him with his emotions.

Nick pulled his phone out to see a message from Casey.

Hey, babe. I heard you guys got free early. Want to grab a bite to eat?

Nick scowled, then quickly typed a response.
I think you meant to send that to Stone.

He’d just reached the steps when she answered.

Ha, ha, Nick. I know who I’m texting. So are you hungry? Want to hang out for a while?

Yeah, this day couldn’t get any stranger.

Well, barring another one of Madaug’s zombie attacks or a demon assault.

Have to work. Sorry.

He’d barely sent that before she shot back another text. Dang, that girl could hammer out words.

Call me when you get off. I’ll be here.

Nick was so stunned that he would have walked straight into the front door had Rosa not opened it first. About even in height to Bubba’s mama, Rosa had black hair tinged with gray. In her early forties, she was Kyrian’s housekeeper and more like another mother to Nick.

“You have a problem, Mr. Nick?” He always loved the way she said his name with her heavy Spanish accent. It was so cool.

“No, Rosa. I’m just trying to figure out a girl from school.”

She laughed and stepped back so that he could enter the house. “There’s no figure when you speak of women,
m’ijo
. We are mysterious creatures.”

“Yes, yes you are.” He slid his phone into his pocket. “Is Kyrian awake yet?”

She closed the door and pulled the cloth from her shoulder. “
Sí
. He is in the shower.”

“Awesome.”

Rosa scowled at him. “Do you feel all right, Nick? You look a bit pale.”

That was another thing about Rosa, you couldn’t get anything past her. “Yes, ma’am. Just had a bad day.”

She gave him a sympathetic pout. “Would chocolate chips help you feel better?”

He immediately flashed a grin at her. “Ah, Ms. Rosa, you are a godsend. Yes, that would help turn my day around exponentially.”

Rising up on her tiptoes, she ruffled his hair. “They are in the kitchen,
m’ijo
. Still warm and gooey. Go grab yourself some.”

“Muchas gracias!”

“De nada.”

With quick steps, Nick ran to the back of the house, then paused as he felt a presence there that wasn’t normal. “Rosa?” he called out. “Is Acheron here?” He always left an odd feeling in the air.

“No. Just you, me, and Kyrian.”

Weird. “Okay. Thanks.”

Still, he couldn’t shake the sensation as he made his way to the kitchen counter to grab a handful of Rosa’s delicious cookies. The smell was soothing, but he couldn’t get over the odd tingling. It made the skin on the back of his neck crawl.

He swallowed a cookie and looked around the room, seeking the source of his discomfort.

What the…?

You are going to die.…
The disembodied voice that came from the hall was gender neutral.

His heart hammering, Nick searched everywhere, trying to find the source of it.

There was nothing. He was completely alone in the kitchen.

“Who are you?” he shot back in a low tone so that Rosa wouldn’t hear it and think he was nuts. He backed away from the counter toward the door to his office, then slammed it shut.

I’m a harvester and
you
are my bounty.

CHAPTER 4

“Bring it home, punk,” Nick snarled at the voice, dropping his backpack to the floor of the office he shared with Rosa. He braced himself for the fight. “This Cajun don’t go down for nothing. You think you can take me, you better bring some friends.”

The door behind him opened. Nick spun around, ready to battle whatever was there.

As soon as he saw who was entering, he sucked his breath in sharply. It was a giant of a man who stood almost seven feet in height. One who had on a pair of opaque sunglasses that concealed his eyes from view. Wearing black on black, and with long purple hair, he appeared at first glance no older than twenty, but the ferocity of his presence told everyone who came into contact with him that he was much more than what he appeared.

That he was badass enough to take down anyone dumb enough to challenge him.

And thankfully, he was one of Nick’s best friends.

Nick growled at him. “Dang it all, Ash. You scared the crap out of me. Could you please knock once in a while?”

A knock sounded on the door that was open behind Acheron’s gargantuan form. “Better?”

Not really. It was kind of creepy. But at least he knew about Acheron’s unearthly powers and offbeat humor, so the disembodied knock wasn’t that much of a surprise. As the leader of the Dark-Hunters and oldest member of their crew, Ash’s psychic abilities were fierce and scary. The stuff people had nightmares about.

But Nick feared almost nothing, and Ash was definitely no longer on that list.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “Little late there with the knock, buddy.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so jumpy. I forget that teenagers are like puppies. High-strung and nervous for no apparent reason. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t soil the carpet, huh?”

“Ha, ha. More like you, T. rex, were born before doors were invented and don’t know proper protocol. Just to clarify. You knock
before
you come into a room.”

Ash let out an aggravated breath as he swiped his brow with his middle finger. “For the record, we did have doors eleven thousand years ago. Like many other things you guys erroneously take credit for, you did not invent them.”

Nick snorted. “Uh-huh. That’s what all ancient people say. So what are you doing here?”

Ash tucked his hands into the pockets of his motorcycle jacket that had a skull and crossbones painted across the back of it. “Responding to that wigged-out text you sent me from school. Why are you suddenly curious about demonology?”

There was something about Ash so trustworthy that Nick almost told him everything. But Ambrose had been emphatic that he keep Acheron out of his life as much as possible … for Ash’s sake as much as his own. And while Nick didn’t really trust his future self, he had no reason to doubt Ambrose’s warnings. Especially since Ambrose knew the future and exactly what would happen to Nick if he didn’t change things.

So he opted for a partial truth. “We had one loose in my school so I thought, given that I’m now in the middle of this oh-so-fun world of yours, I ought to educate myself on it in case another one decides to use St. Richard’s or me for a playground.… So do you know any good books about it?”

Acheron laughed deep in his throat. “Now there’s something I never thought to hear coming out of
your
mouth. At least not unless it involved hentai or manga.”

Nick slapped his knee in a grandiose, sarcastic gesture. “You’re so hilarious. You know, if this whole Daimon-slaying gig doesn’t work out for you, you should really consider being a comedian. The bright Barney hair color would just add to the overall entertainment factor.”

Acheron smiled, flashing a tiny bit of his fangs. Over eleven thousand years old, Ash knew pretty much everything about anything. But unlike most of Nick’s teachers, he wasn’t arrogant or condescending about it. And when he explained the past to you, it was actually interesting, especially since you knew he’d lived through it and was speaking from personal experience.

“And one day, kid, that sense of humor of yours is going to get you eaten by something foul.”

“So they keep telling me.”

With an expression that said he was less than amused, Ash ran his thumb along the edge of his lips. “The best book I know is bound in human flesh and written in blood. Not sure you’d want it if I gave it to you, and even then, it’s written in cuneiform.”

“Cune-wha…?”

“Exactly my point, Nick.… Cuneiform. Ancient Sumerian. Not exactly something they teach in high school these days.”

That figured. Nick scowled at him. “What good is it, then?”

“A lot. It’s the definitive book on all subspecies of Eurasian and African demonkyn. There’s not a breed on those continents that isn’t well documented, right down to how to trap and kill them. But it has nothing about American, Australian, or Antarctican demons.”

That last one floored him. Was Ash serious or joking again? “They have demons on Antarctica?”

“Yeah,” Ash breathed. “It wasn’t always covered by ice, that was just a precaution when they buried them. Not to mention, there are a few sunken small continents around it, such as Mu, Asmayda, Lumeria, Vlaanderen, and the aptly named Satanazes, which translates to the Isle of Demons. There’s a really good reason no human wants to live on the South Pole. And why many have never returned from their trips there.”

Nick narrowed his gaze at Acheron. “You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”

“No. There’s a lot of human history that wasn’t written down. Sometimes for good reasons, and there are tons of things the powers-that-be don’t want humanity to remember or rediscover. And even what’s written isn’t always right. People skew things all the time to make themselves look better.”

“Such as?”

“Well, if you ask the god Apollo what happened to Atlantis, he’ll tell you
he
sank it. Plato, on the other hand, blames the sinking on Poseidon. The Keetoowah say it was a blond-haired demon who annihilated it.”

“And the truth?” Nick asked.

Acheron shrugged. “Don’t know. I was temporarily dead when my home was sucked into the ocean. I keep watching the History Channel hoping for enlightenment, but so far … nada.”

Nick laughed at his dry tone. “You’re lying to me.”

Acheron arched a brow. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. It’s a feeling I have that tells me you know exactly what happened to your homeland, but that you don’t want to share.”

Acheron’s stance and expression gave nothing away. Man, to have those evil poker face powers. “What can I say? I have a long history of not playing well with others.”

Knowing Acheron was even less likely to share than Caleb, Nick changed the subject. “So how many classifications of demon are there, anyway?”

“Thousands. Every culture has its own group.”

“You can’t be more specific?”

Ash shrugged. “If I thought about it, but really? Who cares?”

“I do. So what’s the exact number?”

“Nine thousand, two hundred and twelve subcategories.”

Now that was a lot, and Nick was one of them. No, Nick was the
king
of them, or would be one day.

But Acheron didn’t know that. And Nick wasn’t about to enlighten him. Especially since Acheron made a habit out of killing one particular demon class of beings.

Still, it was impressive that Acheron could pull the exact number out of the ether. His powers really were terrifying. “Do you know them all?”