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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
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when—”
“I wasn’t supposed to have an older brother either. Was I?”
Savitar looked away.
Exactly …
Life-altering events. Unseen disasters. Little things that became …
Best not to go there.
Ambrose curled his lip. “You, Acheron, Artemis, my father … all of you kept your little secrets from me. Now I am trying to repair your mistakes.”
“And in the process, you’re making entirely new ones. Ones we can’t foresee yet. I can’t foresee yet. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He did. And there was one thing he saw clearest of all. “Then you don’t know if what I’m doing is wrong.”
Savitar cursed. “You can’t rewrite the past. No one can. Not without terrifying consequences.”
“I am the Malachai.” Nick sneered at him. “I don’t take orders from you, Chthonian.” Designed to be the police of the natural order and protectors of man, Chthonians had been bestowed powers that would allow them to kill a god if need be.
But those powers didn’t work on creatures like Nick. Born of the darkest part of the universe, the Malachai were immune to all but one.
And that one wasn’t here to stop him from the destiny he’d been born to.
Ultimate destruction.
Tick … tock …
Savitar took a deep breath. “Fine. Hang on to that ego.” He pointed to Ambrose’s mirror. “What you’ve done is tapped your powers at an age when you were most vulnerable. Why do you think they were hidden in the first place? What you have done is unleashed the hounds of hell all over a young kid who’s incapable of fighting them.”
But Nick would learn. He knew himself and his survival instincts. Nick wouldn’t go down. Ever. “I sent him a protector.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that. Ask Acheron what happens when people tamper with the fates of others, even when all they were trying to do was protect them.… Oh, wait, I forgot. You can’t do that anymore, can you?” Savitar’s gaze seared him with an accusation he didn’t even want to contemplate. “Right now, in New Orleans, a fourteen-year-old kid is being stalked.”
“By?”
“You know the answer. They’re there to shut you down and make you bleed. You think you’ve suffered now? Just wait and see what you’ve unleashed on yourself. And this time, you have no one else to blame. You did this with all of us trying to stop you.” Savitar flicked at the talisman around Ambrose’s neck. “You think you understand those powers because of what you are and the centuries you’ve lived. You don’t understand shit.”
He was wrong about that. Ambrose understood fully. Most of all, he knew what was about to happen if he didn’t change it.
Honestly, would it have been so bad had he died as a kid?
Part of him wondered if that was all it would take to stop the wheel from turning. To keep the end from coming.
Saddest of all was that every time he’d tried to kill himself, something had prevented it.
Except for the one time that was most important. Nothing he’d tried yet had prevented that from happening.
One shot.
And all because of Acheron’s curse.
There had to be some way to break that.
He stroked the medallion. This was his last chance. After centuries of mistakes and miscalculations, if it didn’t work this time, it was over for all of them. He didn’t care that his life would end. As far as he was concerned, his life had ended when he was twenty-four.
It was all the others who would pay. They were the ones he was trying to save. The ones he’d once loved. The innocent who didn’t deserve what was coming to them.
Help me.
He was slipping, and it was getting dark. Cold. Terrifying. Right now, he didn’t see an alternative ending. Not even with his meddling. Every road seemed to lead him back to this time and place.
Back to what was coming.
A war the world wouldn’t survive.
Trying not to think about the future he saw so clearly, Ambrose poured himself another drink. “You never answered my original
“I wasn’t supposed to have an older brother either. Was I?”
Savitar looked away.
Exactly …
Life-altering events. Unseen disasters. Little things that became …
Best not to go there.
Ambrose curled his lip. “You, Acheron, Artemis, my father … all of you kept your little secrets from me. Now I am trying to repair your mistakes.”
“And in the process, you’re making entirely new ones. Ones we can’t foresee yet. I can’t foresee yet. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He did. And there was one thing he saw clearest of all. “Then you don’t know if what I’m doing is wrong.”
Savitar cursed. “You can’t rewrite the past. No one can. Not without terrifying consequences.”
“I am the Malachai.” Nick sneered at him. “I don’t take orders from you, Chthonian.” Designed to be the police of the natural order and protectors of man, Chthonians had been bestowed powers that would allow them to kill a god if need be.
But those powers didn’t work on creatures like Nick. Born of the darkest part of the universe, the Malachai were immune to all but one.
And that one wasn’t here to stop him from the destiny he’d been born to.
Ultimate destruction.
Tick … tock …
Savitar took a deep breath. “Fine. Hang on to that ego.” He pointed to Ambrose’s mirror. “What you’ve done is tapped your powers at an age when you were most vulnerable. Why do you think they were hidden in the first place? What you have done is unleashed the hounds of hell all over a young kid who’s incapable of fighting them.”
But Nick would learn. He knew himself and his survival instincts. Nick wouldn’t go down. Ever. “I sent him a protector.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that. Ask Acheron what happens when people tamper with the fates of others, even when all they were trying to do was protect them.… Oh, wait, I forgot. You can’t do that anymore, can you?” Savitar’s gaze seared him with an accusation he didn’t even want to contemplate. “Right now, in New Orleans, a fourteen-year-old kid is being stalked.”
“By?”
“You know the answer. They’re there to shut you down and make you bleed. You think you’ve suffered now? Just wait and see what you’ve unleashed on yourself. And this time, you have no one else to blame. You did this with all of us trying to stop you.” Savitar flicked at the talisman around Ambrose’s neck. “You think you understand those powers because of what you are and the centuries you’ve lived. You don’t understand shit.”
He was wrong about that. Ambrose understood fully. Most of all, he knew what was about to happen if he didn’t change it.
Honestly, would it have been so bad had he died as a kid?
Part of him wondered if that was all it would take to stop the wheel from turning. To keep the end from coming.
Saddest of all was that every time he’d tried to kill himself, something had prevented it.
Except for the one time that was most important. Nothing he’d tried yet had prevented that from happening.
One shot.
And all because of Acheron’s curse.
There had to be some way to break that.
He stroked the medallion. This was his last chance. After centuries of mistakes and miscalculations, if it didn’t work this time, it was over for all of them. He didn’t care that his life would end. As far as he was concerned, his life had ended when he was twenty-four.
It was all the others who would pay. They were the ones he was trying to save. The ones he’d once loved. The innocent who didn’t deserve what was coming to them.
Help me.
He was slipping, and it was getting dark. Cold. Terrifying. Right now, he didn’t see an alternative ending. Not even with his meddling. Every road seemed to lead him back to this time and place.
Back to what was coming.
A war the world wouldn’t survive.
Trying not to think about the future he saw so clearly, Ambrose poured himself another drink. “You never answered my original
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