Sherrilyn Kenyon - Infamous

And especially if it meant killing Nick.

In his raven form, Caleb drew up short as he found Nick in the last place he’d expected.

Under Thorn’s protection in the center of hell. Or more pointedly, in Thorn’s office, learning how to sword fight …

The bright summer sun is shining in the darkest corner of Tartarus. That, and snow in August in New Orleans would be more likely than the sight below him as he used his powers to see inside the massive black mansion. Thorn hated everyone. No, not hated. That was too kind a word for the utter contempt and disdain he held for every living and undead creature in existence. His hatred was so intense it practically oozed out of his molecules.

Centuries ago, the two of them had been friendly. At least as friendly as anyone could be with something like Thorn who only trusted others to screw him over. Ironically, that was what had bonded them together—their mutual disdain and mistrust for everyone else in existence.

A true nihilist, Thorn believed in nothing. And nothing believed in him.

Well, not entirely true. Caleb believed in Thorn’s willingness to kill any and every thing around him, especially if he found it or them annoying.

This can’t be good. Thorn taking a liking to you had to be the same as trying to befriend a starving bear. Sooner or later, it was going to look over at you and think, Lunch.

Yet there he was, protecting and teaching Nick.

Talk about a mind freak. It went against all natural laws as Caleb knew them. Next thing, cobras would be sleeping with mongeese. Not mongooses, ‘cause that just sounded stupid to him. LSU and Alabama fans would be having cookouts together, and one might actually put the other out if he or she caught fire.

Yeah, and the mighty war god Ares would go picking roses with a Girl Scout troop.

All of the above was much more likely than Thorn helping Nick.

And Caleb refused to believe there was some selfless reason motivating this. There had to be something in it for Thorn, or he wouldn’t do it.

But what?

Tucking his wings in, Caleb swooped down to dive bomb them through an open window.

Please don’t let Thorn be sadistic enough to have glass there.…

For the first time ever, Nick heard the voices in the ether speaking. Some were left from past spirits who’d gone on, while echoes of their life forces remained trapped. Most were from the living … the thoughts they let out into the universe, never realizing beings who were sensitive could pick them up and hear their innermost secrets. The rest were warnings from the living things people didn’t know they could communicate with.

All you had to do was listen.

It was like hearing static on a radio. Just noise at first and then above the friction, total clarity. The more carefully you tuned in, the clearer it became. And once you had the right frequency, you heard every nuance.

Thorn cupped Nick’s head in his massive paw of a hand. “That’s the source of life you hear now. Feel your place in the universe and see how vast it is. How many beings call it home.”

He was right, it was vast. But … “There’s so many people in pain.” It was overwhelming. While he’d known people suffered, to actually hear it …

Their combined pain opened his eyes. While he’d felt alone in his suffering, he realized that he was merely one of billions who felt exactly the same kind of impotent frustration that he did, that they were alone and that no one understood them, or their situation. That they had no control over the things that battered their souls, one after another, until they were reeling from shock.

Thorn narrowed those eerie green eyes on him. “Everyone’s in pain, Nick. Some just hide it better than others. As William Goldman so eloquently put it, ‘Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.’”

Nick nodded as he finally understood. “The whole point of life is learning to live with the consequences of the bad decisions we’ve made.”

Thorn scowled at him as if trying to read his mind. “Where did that come from?”

“It’s something Caleb says a lot.”

His frown deepened until he appeared to have an epiphany. “You mean the demon, Malphas?”

As if on cue, a raven cawed, then flew between them, driving them apart.

Turning around to face the raven, Thorn unsheathed his sword for battle.

With a bright flash, the crow became Caleb in his full demon form. The black armor he wore appeared to bleed from every crevice. Rivulets of red ran all over the metal and dripped silently to the floor. With long orange hair, he had yellow eyes like a serpent. If that didn’t clash enough, his skin was as red as the ooze on his armor. His black, leatherlike wings expanded and twitched as if daring Thorn to attack him.

“Dude,” Nick said drily. “We’ve got to see a plastic surgeon about your unfortunate birth defect. And the orange hair … really? We need to talk L’Oreal. Black’s a better neutral. You know? It wouldn’t clash with your skin tone so much.”

Flashing his fangs at Nick in irritation, Caleb stepped aside to give Thorn a clear path to him, and swept his arm out as if putting Nick on display. “If you want to kill him, Thorn, I won’t protest.”

Thorn laughed. “How many fools have fallen for that tactic?”

“Not enough, unfortunately. He still lives. And here I am.…” Caleb cocked his head to study Thorn intently. His gaze narrowed on the sword Thorn had yet to lower. “Are we fighting?”

“I don’t know. You plan to attack me?”

“Only if you attack the boy.”

“Well then…” Thorn sheathed his weapon and shook his head at Caleb. “I can’t believe even Adarian would waste a good daeva’s talent on babysitting.”

“Daeva” was Caleb’s demon classification. Though as a rule they were mid-level demons, Caleb’s powers were infused by something that allowed him to function much higher than that. He also had powers most daeva didn’t.

There had to be a reason for that, but Caleb wasn’t into sharing. Not even when Nick begged.

Caleb slid a suspicious stare toward Nick. “We have got to get you out of here. Immediately.”

“Good,” Nick agreed, “’cause Toto wanna go home, Dorothy.” He clicked his heels together. “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Grimacing, Caleb glanced up at the sky. “If someone drops a house on me, I’m going to be really upset at both of you.”

Thorn snorted. “That would require a good witch. Bon chance finding that here, mon ami. ”

“Good point. We are in the bowels of all evil, after all, and yes, Thorn, I do include you in that category. I’ve spent enough time around you to know how deep your wicked tendencies run.”

Thorn laughed. “If you were a woman, Malphas, flattery like that would get you lucky.”

Caleb tucked his wings down around his body so that they formed another layer over his armor. “I am not even going to respond to that. Now, while your brain’s functioning, any idea how to get snot-wit out of here?”

Nick gaped at the uncalled-for insult. Snot-wit? “Excuse me?”

“Really wish I could, Nick,” Caleb said under his breath.

Thorn considered the answer before he spoke. “Other than making him regain his consciousness … no.”

Caleb manifested a mace, then took a step toward Nick, who quickly backed up.

Thorn grabbed the mace out of his hand. “I said conscious, Malphas. Not dead.”

“Oh c’mon, demonspawn. Just one little concussion … please. I’ve earned it. If for no other reason than he made me have to come here to get him.”