Invision by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page B

Otherwise, I’d have had you.”
    Caleb scoffed. “Hardly. Don’t flatter yourself or insult me.” He bared his fangs at him. “Now it’s your turn for full disclosure. Give me a reason not to bleed you out at my feet.”
    He pulled his sleeve back to show a faint scar where a scar appeared to have been branded at one time. “I was a Hellchaser.”
    â€œWas?”
    â€œEarned my freedom.” He slid his gaze to Nick. “But you’re right. I have the blood of a Necrodemian, too. That’s what you’re reacting to.”
    â€œA what?” Nick asked, trying to follow what was an impossible discussion.
    Caleb glanced at him, over his shoulder. “Bubba isn’t quite as crazy as we thought, Nick. Well, he is, but you know, zombie hunting notwithstanding.… Reason why he does some of what he does, and why the things that chase you also chase him? He’s a natural-born Hell-Hunter. But like you, and unlike his father here, his blood is dormant, which is why I haven’t cut his throat—something I assure you, I would have done had I known he was one of them .”
    Well, that wasn’t even a little bit useful to him. Cay was still hogging all the information and Nick was as lost as a three-year-old in a snowstorm.
    Caleb lowered the sword and held his hand out to help Dr. Burdette to his feet. “Which line are you part of?”
    â€œMichaelson.”
    Caleb let out a scoffing laugh. “Should have known. That explains so much about Bubba.”
    Nick scratched at his ear. “Glad someone knows what’s going on ’cause I’m all kinds of clueless over here.”
    Ignoring him, Caleb held the sword out to Dr. Burdette, hilt first. “Keep that in your pants. We’re on the same side. Nick’s girlfriend is an Arel.”
    His jaw went slack. “How’s that possible?”
    â€œI ask myself that every morning when I get up and she hasn’t killed him. Not so much for being a demon as for being an idiot, but that’s another discussion.”
    Nick sputtered indignantly. “Thanks, Cay. Way to bolster my teen ego.”
    â€œYeah, right. There’s nothing wrong with the ego of anyone who’d dare wear that shirt in public and not die instantly of mortification. Or bad-taste poisoning.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Caleb let out a tired breath and turned back toward the doctor. “So, you’re the real reason Bubba’s wife and son were murdered?”
    Dr. Burdette winced as he straightened some of the items they’d knocked over. “Yeah. It was an old enemy after me. I’d just left town and thought I’d covered my tracks, so that none of them could follow me. Somehow, the demon tracked my scent to Michael’s and found her there alone, with Little Hank.”
    Tears welled in his eyes as they filled with utter misery and guilt. The kind that left a mark on the soul, forever. “She was completely unprepared for what I unknowingly led to her door. And you’ve no idea how much I hate myself for what I did to my child and grandchild. What I did to Melissa. I should have told Michael long ago what we were. But I never thought the blood would taint him.”
    â€œHe doesn’t know?” Caleb asked.
    â€œNo. How could I tell him after that? He’d hate me forever for not warning him, and I can’t blame him for it. I hate myself enough for both of us.”
    Nick saw the same pain play through Caleb’s dark eyes. No doubt, he was thinking about his own wife and what had happened to her when he’d left her to fight in a war he’d wanted no part of. An ageless war he was still having to fight, that had cost him everything and left him with nothing, except physical scars, and memories so painful he couldn’t stand to think of them.
    Not that Nick didn’t understand himself. It was the same fate that would eventually claim his