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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

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BOOK: Invision
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Especially when he leaned over a second later and, with a charming grin, brushed his hand against Kody's arm. “Do you have a pencil I can borrow? Mine must have fallen out of my backpack.”

“Sure.” Kody handed him the one she was holding.

His grin turned even more debonair as he ran it under his nose and smelled the stylus as if he could still detect her light perfume on the wood. “Mmm, I'll treasure it always. Thank you for your kindness, my noble lady.”

When Nick started to rise, Caleb caught his arm.
Down, boy. Don't make me smack your nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

Nick cut a glare at his best friend to let Caleb know he could be a worthy substitution as a whipping boy if he didn't let go.

Kody turned toward Nick.
Is it me or was that gross?

And that right there saved Nathan's life. Leave it to his girl to be oblivious.

He was relieved, until Nathan turned back toward her.

Suddenly, Kody's desk slid four inches closer to Nick's, and farther from Nathan's. She turned an indignant glare at Nick for his audacity.

At the sharp scraping that made most people cringe, everyone in the room shot around to look for the source of the sudden sound. Nick forced himself not to cringe at the involuntary use of his Malachai powers.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at his teacher. “Sorry. My foot got caught under Kody's desk.”

“Why was your foot under her desk?”

Nick shrugged. “I'm too tall for the desk and my feet have a mind of their own. You've seen me walking down the hall, Ms. Pantall. I never know where my arms or legs are located, hence all the bruises I keep.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Keep your feet under your own desk, Nick. Stop disrupting class or I'll send you to the office.”

Something stabbed him in the leg. Hard. Nick let out a sharp curse and though it wasn't in English, Ms. Pantall had enough Cajun in her to unfortunately know exactly what the word meant.

“That's it! Get to the office! Now!”

“But—”

“No buts! Go!”

Growling low in his throat, Nick got up to retrieve the pass from her hand. He glanced back to see the sad pout on Kody's face and as his gaze went to Nathan …

For the merest instant he could have sworn he saw his eyes flash red. But that would be an impossibility. If Nathan had demon in him, Nick would see it.

He'd sense it.

For that matter, he'd even glimpsed Acheron's true demonic form and Ash had more than enough power to camouflage himself.

From anyone.

But not a Malachai. Nothing and no one could hide themselves from Nick. He was the Geiger counter of preternatural species. It was both his gift and his curse.

Which got back to the weird sensation on his spine. He needed a serious consultation with his fellow Power Rangers. But that wouldn't happen until after he figured out how many hours of detention this little miserable morning was going to cost him.

Maybe I'll get lucky and when I go after Zavid something will eat me and I won't have to finish detention.

A boy could dream.

Taking the slip from Ms. Pantall's hand, he headed for the door and took one last look at Kody. Instead of watching him, she was saying something to Nathan.

Nick's vision darkened in such a way that he had to catch himself before he let loose his own demonic eyes and freaked out half his class. His breathing ragged, it took everything he had not to blast the door from its hinges.

Okay, stop!

Aeron would be the first to warn him off his anger. This was the gateway to a place he didn't want to go. It was what had forced his father to live out his “free” life in the human realm incarcerated in a maximum security prison. That had been the only place Adarian could stay where his frequent violent outbursts that resulted in the flying entrails of whoever had annoyed him could be contained.

Every time Nick exploded into those powers, he put a cosmic target out to his enemies. Told them exactly where to find him and anyone who was near him.

The only way to have peace in his life was to keep his temper and remain dormant.

Yeah, but he wanted that kid's throat.

And by the time he reached the principal's office, he was good and livid. His palms damp and his heart racing. He even felt his temple pounding. Too pissed to sit, he paced in front of the chairs outside Mr. Head's office and half expected to go Carrie White on everybody. All that was missing was the pig's blood.

Suddenly, a tiny light appeared in his peripheral. One that wouldn't be all that noticeable to most people. It was only slightly larger than a speck of dust in a sunbeam. But Nick knew the source of the ethereal blue light.

It was a will-o'-the-wisp. Or more affectionately, Lucky Charms Legolas.

He stopped pacing to whisper, “Legolas? What are you doing here?”

I felt you burning them powers, and wondered if you were in trouble. Or are you trying to summon Noir? 'Cause if you are, let me know now. I need to pack some bags before I abandon your sorry hide to him and his forces to save me own arse.

Nick released a scoffing laugh. As if. Aeron would sooner cut his own throat than hightail it out. One thing about the Celtic war god, he never backed away from a fight.

Aeron manifested into his shimmering shade body. More shadow than form, it wouldn't be visible to anyone other than Nick. Or another higher-level paranormal creature.
There now, you all cocked and dry?

Sighing, Nick nodded. “Thank you.”

So what got you all unlaced?

Nick felt his temper rise again.
There's a prick in my classroom making eyes at Kody. Go kill him.

Aeron burst out laughing.

Until he realized Nick was serious.
What? You're serious, like?

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

Nae. You look like we need to loosen the knob on your lid before you blow your gasket and pop your fool head off.
Aeron tsked, then moved as if to chuck Nick on his arm. But since he wasn't in his physical body, his hand passed through Nick's shoulder and left a peculiar tingle there.
Sorry, boyo. But you know I can't kill a man for simply eyeing your girl.


Then pluck his eyes out. Bring me his male parts. At the very least snap off a finger!”

Aeron's eyes widened as Nick's voice deepened to the demonic level.
Having some trouble there, son?

“Little bit!”

“Little bit of what, Gautier?”

Nick froze at the sound of Mr. Head's voice. Great. That was all he needed. The principal thinking he warranted a visit to the psych ward. “Sorry, Mr. Head. I was thinking about my next class. I needed a little bit more time to finish the reading for it.”

“Well, come on in and let's discuss this latest event that has you darkening my doorway. I can't wait to hear your version of the matter.”

Nick met Aeron's gaze, then sent his thoughts to him.
If you won't kill him for me, at least go keep an eye on the troll. And if he lays one hand on her, make it a bloody stump.

Aeron shook his head.
Hold that temper, Malachai. It's going to get you into all kinds of trouble.

Yeah, it already had. Sighing, he headed into the office.

Aeron tried not to be amused as he watched Nick vanish. It wasn't funny, yet he couldn't help being entertained. He'd never seen the boy get jealous before. At least not like this.

And that made him curious about the Nathan boy who'd evoked such a powerful emotion. Poor child had no idea what he was courting.

With that thought, he turned back into his púca form and headed for Caleb's old raunchy smell. Bad thing about a Daeve—couldn't miss their unique stench. Though the last time he'd pointed that out to the ancient demon and handed him a bar of soap, Caleb had gotten a mite testy about it.

But as Aeron neared the door of the classroom, he felt a peculiar presence. One that made his blood run cold.

Before he could act, he was sucked into a vortex.

 

CHAPTER 3

“So … do I have to go punch Stone in the face, or just burp in Richardson's class?”

Nick scowled at Caleb's bizarre question as he took his backpack from him in the hallway outside their next class. “Do what?”

“I'm trying to gauge how much detention I need to earn to match yours. Therefore I'm asking the severity of my grievance and who to assault for it.”

Nick snorted. “I don't know. Depends on Richardson's mood. With that evil witch, you could get more detention for the burp than you would if you coldcocked Stone and made him sterile. Which might not be a bad thing. Future generations would thank you for it.”

“Very true.” Caleb brushed his dark hair back. “So…?”

“You'll be proud. I've finally mastered my ability to manipulate the weak-minded without turning anyone into a goat or exploding the space-time continuum.… I got none.”

Instead of being happy that Nick's power had worked for once and nothing had exploded, melted, or summoned a terrifying higher deity or hell-beast from another dimension, Caleb grimaced. “While I am more than thrilled at the prospect of not having to suffer through another round of teenage after-school angst and drama with you, I feel the need to caution you about using those powers for something so trivial. Remember, magick comes with a cost. Even for a Malachai. Ain't no such thing as a free ride in life, my friend. Sooner or later, we all pay the piper. And when that cretin comes home to roost, he always craps right on your head and ugly, oversized shirt.”

“Duly noted.” Nick sidled up to Kody. “You mad at me,
cher
?”

She paused to rake a suspicious grimace over him. “Uh … should I be? What mischief have you wrought now that I don't know about?”

“For sending Aeron to spy on you.”

That took every bit of friendliness out of her stare. In fact, he could flash-freeze fire with
that
stare, and a certain part of his anatomy crawled back into his body as she scorched him with it. “When was this?”

“While I was mind-melding with Head.”

She glowered even more. “Aeron didn't come into the room.”

“Yeah, he did. I sent him straightaway.”

“No, he didn't,” they said in unison.

His stomach knotting, Nick gave each one of them a bitter glare as they headed for their next period. “Yes, he did. Because he knows I would not be happy with him if he didn't. And an unhappy Malachai kicks his
culo loco
.”

“Well,” Caleb said drily, “we can stand here and argue like children until one of us sticks his tongue out at the other, or you can call him and see. But I'm here to tell you that the Celt did not step foot in that room. I'd have known it. I didn't even smell him in the building.”

Kody groaned. “I wish you two would lay off the odor thing with each other. Neither of you smell. Good grief.”

Ignoring her chiding, Nick pulled out his phone. “Prepare to eat those words, Caliboo. One slice humble pie coming up, piping hot.” He dialed for his favorite surly war god. Then waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

It rolled to voice mail.

Okay, that was not good. Scowling, he met Caleb's smug expression. “Why would he have left when he said he wouldn't?”

“It's Aeron.”

“Exactly. He's not
you
.” Nick put the phone in his pocket. “He doesn't know a lot of people here. It's not like him to run off and visit anyone. Or go trolling after loose women on Bourbon Street … unlike a certain Daeve I know.” He cleared his throat meaningfully.

“You're just jealous you can't go into any of those clubs, baby face.”

Luckily, Kody didn't take him seriously and ignored that jibe. “He has a point, Caleb.”

Caleb sighed. “Yeah, he does. Two, if you count the one on his head, and I hate it. 'Cause if Aeron's missing, it doesn't bode well and I'm getting really tired of ill bodings.”

Nick wrinkled his nose at the term. “Ill bodings? Is that a phrase?”

“Of course it is. I just made it up.”

Nick snorted. “Fine. Whatever. We've got to find him. If for no other reason, we don't need him to do something that could out himself in public.”

“Yeah,” Caleb said sarcastically. “They have laws against exposing yourself in public.”

Kody let out a long-suffering sigh. “I think I know now why the gods made the two of you so incredibly hot. You'd be insufferable, otherwise.”

Laughing at her uncharacteristic barb that proved she'd been hanging out with them way too much, Nick paused in the hallway as he saw Nathan walking past them.

A few feet away, Nathan stopped and turned around in a slow circle as he attempted to decipher their misbegotten room numbers and his schedule.

He almost felt sorry for the kid since he still remembered his first days here when he'd been just as lost and confused. The room numbers on the first floor had been arranged by some chaos demon bent on driving the unwary to utter madness. They really made no sense in anyone's world except whatever drunken lunatic had initially placed them on the doors for some kind of sick mind game.

As much as Nick hated himself for the compassion, he found himself wandering over to the warthog. “You need help?”

“Room 114?” Nathan scratched his head. “Shouldn't it be right here, between 112 and 115?” He gestured at the red lockers where a door ought to be. “But then I can't find room 113, either.”

“That's because 113 is the gym.”

Nathan scowled. “Huh?”

“Exactly. Ours is not to question why. It's merely to go to class and try not to cry.” Nick laughed at the truly confounded expression on the kid's face. “Welcome to St. Richard's of the Severely Dyslexic and Homicidally Crazed. Room 114 is the biology lab. Down the hall, to the right. Next to the bathroom and across from room 130. 'Cause that makes all the sense in the world, to absolutely
no
-body
.”

BOOK: Invision
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