Sherrilyn Kenyon - Invincible

“Who are they ?”

“I’m not sure. I was trying to get a fix on it when you came running up and broke my concentration. It’s not normal for me to be blind to things like this, but that being said, these kind of demons aren’t my specialty.”

Nick was confused by that. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a Dark-Hunter, Nick. Not a demonologist. There are thousands of species of demons in a variety of belief systems, and while I may be fluent in all languages and customs, some—not many, but some—of the world’s demons are alien to me because they don’t come out and play often. Some are so terrifying that their own people don’t speak of them or have forgotten them. As a result, I don’t stay on top of it. Now wishing I had.”

That made sense. Nick glanced over at the weird design on the street. “What about those symbols? What are they?”

“A language that was dead before I was born.”

Whoa. Given Ash’s geriatrics, if that predated him … that was scary. “How can that be?”

“Contrary to popular misbelief, I wasn’t born with the dinosaurs, Nick. As old as I am, I know many beings who make me look like an infant. Whoever did this might be one of them, or it’s something or someone who’s had recent contact with them.” He looked back at the symbols. “I honestly haven’t seen that writing since I passed ruins in Atlantis when I was about your age.”

“You can remember that far back?”

An angry tic started in Ash’s jaw. “With a clarity I wish to the gods I could burn out of my mind.” There was a lot of hidden pain in Ash’s tone. Kyrian had told him that Ash didn’t like talking about his past. From his tone of voice, Nick would guess that Ash hadn’t had a very happy childhood.

Then again, it had to be gruesome for Ash to have died so brutally at age twenty-one that he’d sold his soul to the goddess Artemis for vengeance.

“So what do we do?” Nick asked.

“Give me a few more minutes, then I’ll take you to Kyrian’s.”

“Ash!”

Nick looked around Ash to see a young African-American guy rushing over to them.

Ash turned to face him. “Hey, Tate. You investigating?”

He nodded. “I was out with my dad when the call came in.” He gestured to the medical examiner, who was talking to the police. Then his gaze went to Nick.

“This is Nick Gautier. He’s working for Kyrian and knows about our darker side.”

“Ah…” He smiled at Nick. “Tate Bennett. Nice to meet you.” He seemed friendly enough as he held his hand out.

Nick shook it. “You, too.”

Tate leaned in to speak in a low tone with Ash. “It’s a demon thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think a demon killed him. I’m pretty sure the killer was human and so was the kid.”

Tate appeared confused. “How do you mean?”

Ash gestured toward the circle. “That’s a containment and destruction spell. The kind meant to trap and weaken a demon so that you can kill it easily.”

Tate’s eyes widened. “The kid was possessed?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a weird vibe. I’m really not sure what went on. All I know is it ain’t right.”

Tate’s frown deepened. “How can you not know what happened?”

Ash lowered his tone even more. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Whatever human did this has me blocked and with those symbols.… I don’t know. But I’m thinking the kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In spite of the fact that the kid is dead, I don’t think he was the target. I think the killer was after something else. What about you? You have anything?”

“Only the vic’s description: Caucasian. Male. Fourteen years old. We think he was killed this morning around eight. No ID at all, but he did have—”

“Hey, I know those shoes.”

Tate and Ash turned to him as Nick pointed at the body they were now moving. As they’d lifted the kid, the tarp had been pulled back from his feet.

“What?” Ash asked.

Nick inclined his head to the lime green Converse they were zipping the body bag around, which were decorated with a Magic Marker. “That’s Barry Thornton. He sits behind me in study hall.”

Tate stepped toward him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Those shoes are distinctive. No one else in high school draws Pokémon on their clothes.” Not to mention the green was pretty neon, and most of the kids he knew preferred more sedate colors.

Tate considered that for a second before he spoke. “Has he been messing with the occult?”

Nick gave Tate an agitated stare. “Let’s go back to the Pokémon on his shoes, shall we? Dead giveaway. He wouldn’t even play D&D, ’cause he thought it was Satanic. He didn’t believe in anything paranormal.” Which was ironic when you thought about how many preternatural beings went to their high school. “He was the captain of the chess club and an A-plus student.”

Tate met Ash’s gaze. “Why would anyone think he’s a demon?”

Ash shrugged. “The world is insane, and you’re asking me for the reasoning of a psycho? I’m not a profiler.”

“But you are omniscient,” Tate reminded him.

“It, like my immortality, has its limitations. I can’t see everything, unfortunately.” Ash sighed. “Nick said this was the second boy found?”

“Yeah. There was a kid named Alistair Sloan found last night.”

They both looked over at Nick.

“Why y’all looking at me for? I don’t know him at all.”

Ash snorted. “You seem to know everyone else in town.”

“Well, I do get around.” Nick grinned.

Ash shook his head before he returned his attention to Tate. “This entire event isn’t adding up.”

Tate agreed. “Could be a zealot on a killing spree. Sometimes the weird crap is human. I know it doesn’t happen often in this town. But … every now and again, we do find humans being insane.”

Ash appeared less than convinced. “Maybe.”

Tate gestured over his shoulder. “I better get back to it. Let me know if you uncover something.”

“You, too.”

As soon as Tate was gone, Ash turned back to Nick. “Do me a favor.”

“Don’t lick your seat belt?”

Ash’s expression was total confusion. “Huh? Where did that randomness come from?”

“When I was a kid, I did that once in my aunt Mennie’s new car. Now every time I get in her car and she’s driving, she says do me a favor, and that’s what always follows after it. Sorry. Habit.”

“Okay. If your bizarre flashbacks are over, can I have your attention for a second?”

Nick straightened up. “Absolutely.”

“All right. Keep your eyes open, and don’t go anywhere alone until we figure out what’s happening and why someone is killing fourteen-year-old boys.”

“You got it.”

Ash started toward the body, then seemed to think better of it. “Let’s get you to Kyrian’s.”

“Fine with me.” He liked the idea of being safe and alive.

Ash waved to Tate to let him know they were leaving before he led Nick back to the gleaming black Porsche. Nick got in and buckled his seat belt while Ash started the car.

They didn’t speak at all while Ash took him the rest of the way to the Garden District, where row after row of antebellum homes paid tribute to and housed some of the wealthiest people in New Orleans.

Man, the size of Kyrian’s place never failed to impress him. It was one heck of a house. In the classical Greek revival style, it kind of reminded Nick of a wedding cake, what with the wraparound porches, the ornate flourishes, and white color. Ash opened the gate, then parked in front of the marble steps that led up to the front door.

Nick got out and headed up the stairs. When he started to ring the bell, Ash materialized beside him and pushed the door open.