Sherrilyn Kenyon - Invincible

“We’re not stealing, Casey. We’re borrowing.”

“Fine. I’ll ‘borrow’”—she made mocking air quotes around the word with her fingers—“her necklace.”

And before Nick could protest that declaration, she was gone.

Come back, you little …

But there was nothing he could do. She’d left him in the dust.

Disgusted, he wished he could call her back without starting a scene. Unfortunately, there were too many students in the building now for him to use his powers.

And more were filing in through the doors.

Fine. He’d deal with Casey later. Right now, he had a scarf to find and some handwriting to borrow.

Ms. Grider kept her beady little eyes on him as he dug through the large box of unclaimed items the school kept in the checkout office. “Are you sure that’s your scarf? I don’t recall you ever having one before. Seems to me you don’t have any coats either. All I remember you in are ragged jeans, hideous tourist shirts they sell cheap at the Goodwill, and worn-out shoes.”

Nick cringed at the L&F Nazi’s unrivaled memory. At 904 years old, her memory should be going by now, or so one would think. But apparently the only things she’d lost were her personality and human decency. “Well, Ms. Grider, if you remembered everything that belonged to everyone in the school, it seems we wouldn’t really need a lost and found, would we?”

She glared at him. “That better be yours. I’m making a note of what it looks like and who’s taking it.”

Of course you are.

“If someone comes looking for it, I’m going to tell them exactly who took it.”

With a fake smile, Nick shoved the scarf into his backpack and headed out the door. The things I do for you, Mom. If it were up to him, he’d drop out of this school and go to one where he wasn’t a pariah. One where he was normal and these people were the freaks. But his mom wanted him to have the best education possible.

So here he was.

In hell for three and a half more years.

Again, thanks Mom.

As he headed toward his locker to switch out books, something moved fast to his right. Always on the lookout for Stone or his buds to ambush him, Nick jumped left and …

Nothing.

Frowning in confusion, he scanned the wall and saw no trace of whatever he’d glimpsed. Weird. A slow circle turn in the middle of the hall didn’t uncover anything either as the sea of students moved around him.

But as he looked, everything slowed down like some replay footage. The pendulum in his pocket heated up at the same time he felt Mark’s necklace vibrate.

His ears buzzed, and some noxious smell filled his head.

“That better not be you again, Mark.” He was in no mood for it.

No sooner had those words left his lips than the lights in the school went out. The screams of his classmates were deafening and thick … slowed down to match their current snail speed.

Out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning shot through his chest, picking him up from his feet and throwing him down the hallway.

Nick couldn’t breathe. It felt like his lungs had collapsed. He hit the wall above their lockers so hard, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t break through the concrete and crush every bone in his body. With nothing to catch him, he fell from the top of the wall, straight to the floor.

Dazed and tasting blood, he lay in a heap until something seized him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. It pinned him there in an invisible fist that left him dangling.

“Are you the one?” The thick, monster voice wasn’t speaking English, and yet he understood it somehow. “Are you?”

The one for what?

To bleed on his shoes? Check.

To dent the wall? Check.

To kick his demon butt …

Highly unlikely.

Nick clapped his hands over the creature’s claw, trying to pry it away from his body. It was useless and rated right up there with stepping on Clark Kent’s glasses. “Let me go!”

It pulled him closer to its nasty-smelling, bulbous body so that it could examine him. Then it slid him against something wet and slimy. What was that?

A nose?

Oh yeah, the thing was definitely sniffing him.

“Uh, gah! Get off me! What are you?”

“It’s something ugly. Nick, get down.”

He barely had time to duck in the thing’s grasp before Caleb in full demon gear attacked it. The moment he did, the creature lost all interest in Nick as it turned to face Caleb.

Nick shot across the floor, to an area of relative safety so that he could figure out what was going on.

Walking backwards like a total badass, Caleb circled it, making it turn around to keep him in his line of sight. Dressed in gold battle armor that covered all but his glowing, evil snake eyes, Caleb made quite an impressive sight. Especially with the wingspan he had on his back. Two sheathed swords were crossed over his shoulders, but by his movements, Nick could tell Caleb could have those drawn and in the beast faster than anyone could say Liu Kang. Yeah, okay, so he looked more like Kano. But …

Liu Kang sounded cooler.

“Malphas…” The creature slurred his name into an insult. “I heard the Malachai had a lapdog. Who would have ever dreamed it was you ?”

Caleb flinched. “Now, that just hurts me in my tender place, Bricis. Really? Was it necessary to add that insult?”

Ignoring him, Bricis jerked his chin toward Nick. “Is he the one?”

Caleb hit his breastplate twice to draw the creature’s attention back to him. “Right now, I’m the only one you need to concern yourself with.”

Bricis went for Caleb’s throat. Caleb caught his hand, then kicked him into the wall. Holding on to its arm, Caleb twisted it and drove its head into the wall, then the lockers. Growling, it twisted out of his hold and backhanded him hard.

The two went at each other like Jet Li and Jackie Chan in a historical death match, slashing, punching, lunging, and dodging. It was a beautiful, macabre dance to a tune only they could hear. Nick was awed by their skills.

Man, to have a little bit of that …

At least that was his thought until Caleb stabbed Bricis, slicing open its arm. The moment that stanky blood fell to the ground, it manifested into demonic helpers who went for Caleb.

Not good.

He wasn’t about to let his friend go down for protecting him. Time to get your hands dirty.

Yeah, right. What was he thinking? This wasn’t like facing down a human coach. You’re about to get your butt kicked back to the Dark Ages. Maybe even the Stone Age. Them things got teeth like piranha. And they were chewing on Caleb.

Man or a mouse, Nick?

Squeak.

As if. Cowardice wasn’t in him. With a deep breath to brace himself for the additional pain he was about to be in, Nick ran at them. He caught the first one with fist to the gut.

It laughed like he’d tickled it.

Ah, snap. This was going to hurt, real bad.

But when it lunged at him, something miraculous happened. The same force that had taken control of him when he’d fought off the Mortents came back with a vengeance.

“No, Nick! Stop!” Caleb shouted.

Easier said than done. Whatever the power was, it radiated through him, raising his hair on end and washing him in a soft warm blanket of light. It was as if a part of him craved it and suckled on it the same way a baby craved his bottle. He needed this … whatever this was.

Caleb spoke in a language he couldn’t decipher. Suddenly a cloak appeared in his hands.

One second, Nick was hovering in the hall, beating off the sprout demons; the next, he’d been shoved into a locker. “Hey!” he shouted at Caleb. “I’m not Madaug! Why did you do this?”