“Personally, I want the demon out. How do we find his summoner?”
Ravenna arched a brow at him. “We’re in N’Awlins, boy. Any idea how many people here that could be?”
“Well,” Zeke said, “there is a third way.”
“And that is?”
“An act so purely good and selfless it drives out the demon.”
Fang liked the sound of that one. At least it had the most likely prospect of working and not getting him killed… maybe. “What is that? Saving an infant?”
Zeke shrugged. “Don’t know. The PTB aren’t big on specifics.”
“PTB?”
Ravenna answered for him. “Powers That Be.”
“Great. So what do I do? Just hang out and hope the demon leaves or that his summoner just happens to fling himself under my bike?”
Ravenna let out a sinister laugh. “Fasten your seat belts, buddy. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
“Thanks, Bette. I personally would like something a little more concrete.”
Zeke picked his helmet up from the ground. “Well, that’s the best we can do for now. Sorry.”
Sorry? That was a word Fang would love to make that man eat. “You mentioned a Malachai. What is that?”
Zeke kicked to scatter the dust of the Reapers who’d finally stopped burning. “Easiest explanation is to think of them like an army of fallen angels. Demonic, cold-blooded, and capable of tearing apart anything that got in their path.”
“But you said there was only one left.”
Zeke nodded. “At one time, there were two armies. The Sephirii who fought for good and the Malachai who were pure evil. Now we’re down to one of each. The last Sephiroth is enslaved and the last Malachai vanished. We assumed him dead until a few months back when there was a rupture in the ether.”
“A rupture?”
Zeke nodded. “Adarian, the last Malachai, had a son we didn’t know about. Somehow the little bastard was born off our radar. When he came into his powers, it made an unmistakable clamor.”
“Where is this last Malachai?”
“That’s the kicker. We don’t know. We’re trying to find him, but whoever is hiding him is determined to keep him under wraps and we don’t know why.”
“I’m sure it can’t be good.”
“Yeah… at any rate, you’ve consigned yourself to a tenuous post. Watch your back, wolf.” Zeke tossed his sword into the air. It transformed back into his motorcycle.
Ravenna returned to her raven form and flew off while Zeke started the bike.
“I will try to keep an eye on you, wolf. Just be wary of shadows and keep your eyes open for Phrixis to control you.”
Disgusted over this new turn of events, Fang waited until they were gone. He still had no clarity about last night or his future, but one thing was sure, he had no intention of allowing the police to question him until he knew more about what had happened.
And most of all, not until he knew more about what was going on.
Over the next few months as he avoided the cops and his family, Fang learned exactly what Zeke had meant about having a target on his back. He felt like he was back in the Nether Realm as demon after demon pursued him.
But the worst part were the blackouts he kept having where he couldn’t remember what he’d done.
Where he’d been.
He was still alive, but that was the only thing he knew for certain. And as the blackouts became more frequent, he was afraid to go near Aimee. He would wake up with all manner of injuries that he couldn’t explain. Bite marks, wounds, bruises.
If only he knew what they were from.
More people and Were-Hunters were dying and he was beginning to think he was to blame. Every morning, he woke up covered in blood with no explanation for what had caused it.
Fang moved deeper into the swamp, hoping that if he stayed away from everyone he wouldn’t hurt them. Thoughts of harming Vane or Bride, or most important, Aimee, tortured him.
Why couldn’t he remember what he did at night? He wanted desperately to go to Aimee and tell her what was going on, but he didn’t dare. For one, he was evading custody. And two, he was afraid he might inadvertently hurt her during one of his blackouts.
He’d come so close that last time he’d seen her. Had she not kneed him…
Fang didn’t want to think about it. He wouldn’t be able to live, knowing he’d hurt her.
What is going on?
“I want you out of me!” he snarled at Phrixis, who was back in his head, telling him to kill.
Why couldn’t he have peace?
Worst of all, he wanted to see his nephew and Aimee. He wanted to have a moment of being held by someone who wasn’t as suspicious of him as he was of himself. But he wouldn’t endanger them.
Not until he knew the truth.
Aimee hung up the phone in frustration as she sat alone in her mother’s office. She wanted to crush the worthless device into a billion pieces.
“You still can’t get him?”
She glanced up to find Dev standing in the doorway, watching her with a concerned frown on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“I know you’re calling Fang.”
She started to lie, but why bother? He’d just be able to smell it on her. “I’m worried about him.”
“I don’t blame you. Body count is mounting and Stu called to say they’ve set up a special task force to bring him in.”
Stu had been keeping them all posted about the killings. Each one had looked like an animal had done it. Like a wolf or a dog.
But the bloodiest kills had been the Were-Hunters, all Arcadians, who’d died. No regular animal would have the abilities to do that. There was another Were-Hunter out there preying on them.
Aimee swallowed the cold lump in her throat as she considered a possibility she really didn’t want to think about. “Do you think he’s guilty of killing them?”
Dev sighed. “Eight of the dead are Were-Hunters. It doesn’t look good for him.”
No, it didn’t. And the fact he wouldn’t talk to her just made it worse. Not to mention, he was no longer staying with Vane. No one knew where he was.
And that made her want to weep.
“Aimee?”
She looked past Dev’s shoulder at Maman’s call in the hallway. She stood up and moved toward him to make room at the desk for her mother. “Yes?”
Dev stepped aside so that Maman could enter. “A special session of the Omegrion has been called. I think you should attend.”
Aimee frowned at the unusual request. “Why?”
“Because it’s about Fang.”
Her heart sank so fast that she was dizzy. Dev caught her against him. “I’ll go with you.”
She nodded, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Maman, for telling me.”
Her mother inclined her head.
Patting Dev on his arm, Aimee left him and went upstairs to dress herself in a conservative gray suit. She’d never been to the council before and had no idea what to expect.
Dev met her downstairs, dressed in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. He stood next to Maman. Aimee paused as she saw them there together. Her mother was so statuesque and exquisitely beautiful. Regal to the marrow of her bones. Her mother possessed such a feminine elegance that Aimee had always felt like an ugly duckling in comparison.
Though they didn’t always agree, she loved that woman with all of her heart. And she wished she could be more like her and make her proud.
Dev was his usual kicked-back, charming self. Though he lacked Maman’s refinement that had been passed to Zar and Alain, there was something absolutely compelling about his down-to-earth charisma.
“Are we ready, mes enfants?”
Aimee took Dev’s hand. “We’re ready.”
Maman flashed them to Neratiti, the mysterious island home of Savitar. It was an island that moved constantly throughout the world as Savitar, a devout surfer, sought the perfect wave. He was a being of a thousand contradictions and mysteries.
And one Aimee had only met a few times in her life. To be honest, he scared the bejesus out of her.