she saw Nick’s eyes change over. No longer blue, they were all demon black now. His skin changed to that deep bloodred that was marked by ancient black symbols so that it formed an elegant, swirling pattern all over his body. Strangely beautiful and at the same time, terrifying. Black lines cut across both of his eyes and down his cheeks into sharp points. And the same bloodred laced through his black hair, just as it did his eyes, until they glowed in the dim light.
The Malachai was a creature of exquisite death.
And when those blood-streaked eyes met hers, she trembled, but not in fear. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Even though the Nick she knew had receded behind the monster in front of her, there was something about him that said she was safe.
“Ambrose?”
His black wings fluttered, stirring the air around them and sending dust and debris rattling.
Jaden took a step toward her.
Hissing, Nick grabbed her into a tight, protective embrace. He literally wrapped his entire body around her and lifted her from the floor. He held her cradled against his chest with an ease that was truly, truly terrifying. With his wings flapping in a slow, rhythmic arcing motion, they hovered in a far corner of the shop.
Nick closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. He held her as if she were unspeakably precious. As if he’d lost her and had finally found her again. She had the impression that he wasn’t going to allow anyone to come near her or remove her from his arms.
And while he held her like that, she saw why …
They were no longer in New Orleans. Rather she was in an ancient Hurrian city, on top of a hill that overlooked the capital where people were in the process of rebuilding structures that had been damaged by a savage war. Even the temple where she stood hadn’t been spared. The walls around her still bore the charred scarring of god-bolts and one of the pillars had yet to be replaced that had collapsed under a fierce assault.
Oblivious to it, she stood on the balcony with a Charonte demon who reminded her a great deal of a taller Simi, except her skin was a swirling prism of red and white. Dressed in black armor, she wore her ebony hair braided with red feathers and gold beads. She even had gold tips on the edge of her pointed, pixie ears.
“I’ve a bad feeling, Rubati. You should do as Monakribos wants and run with him.”
“I’m not afraid, Xi. His mother will protect us. Braith won’t allow her child to be harmed. It was the promise the other gods made to her and his father when Kissare gave up his life so that Monakribos could be born. They swore that they would never ask for her to sacrifice more of her blood to them.” She cupped her stomach that was just beginning to show the signs of her pregnancy. “We’re safe from their wrath.”
Suddenly, the sky grew dark overhead. Thunder clapped so hard, it shook the building around them.
Rubati stumbled, then extended her white wings to catch her balance so that she wouldn’t harm her unborn baby. “Are we at war again?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m being summoned. You should hide!” Xiamara leapt from the balcony to fly down toward the city.
Just as Rubati started to leave, she saw Monakribos come into the room, through the doors.
Relief flooded her. “My love!” She rushed to him only to have him backhand her so hard that the blow lifted her from her feet and sent her skittering across the floor.
Stunned senseless, she barely remained conscious as he seized her.
He lifted her up in a cruel fist. “Damn you for what you’ve done!”
She grabbed his hand in both of hers and tried to loosen his grip. “Kri? What’s wrong with you?”
But her words didn’t seem to register as he set upon her with a warrior’s vengeance.
By the time the drug he’d been given cleared his blood and he came to his senses, it was too late.
Rubati barely clung to life.
Monakribos pulled back in horror as he took in the whole scene and saw what he’d done to the female he’d loved above all others. He saw his bloodstained hands and her battered body. “Ru?”
Her breath rattled in her chest as she stared up at him, too weak and broken to move. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, leaving streaks