It also said a lot about Caleb’s power that it could hold even while he was drained. Still … he felt bad for both sides. The Memitim for not being able to let it go after all these centuries, and Caleb for not being able to move on because of their obstinacy.

Why dwell on the past when you have a perfectly good tomorrow to look forward to screwing up? Mark’s favorite saying went through his head. There was definitely something to be said for that. Especially while watching them pursue their madness. They were so focused on Caleb that they’d destroyed themselves trying to strike at him.

Was it worth it?

Definitely not.

Gah, I hope I’m never that stupid. ’Cause let’s face it. I basically hog all the dumb, most days.

But there was nothing he could do to help them with their idiocy today. And right now, he had a renegade demon who might be neck-deep in trouble and needing his help to locate. A mom to guard. Funky weather to avoid.

And a strange mystery to solve.

He stared at the Memitim. How do I get rid of those? And again, he had that off, hollow feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right.

That his time was running out.

All of a sudden, the Memitim scattered as if terrified. Yeah, that had to be a really bad sign.

Nick cringed at the omen as more lightning flashed, narrowly missing him. That was stunning, but not as much as the beautiful teenaged girl who stepped out of it and eyed him with great curiosity.

Completely dry in spite of the weather, she had rich caramel skin with dark hair that fell in intricate braids around a perfect face. But it wasn’t her beauty that made his senses stir, it was the amount of power that emanated from her. This was a preter of unparalleled Source power. If she announced herself to him as Azura, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Her powers were that strong.

Dressed in a short skirt and a halter, she met his stunned expression with a shrug as she approached him with a slow, seductive walk. “You wanted them gone. They’re gone now.”

Yeah, but he wasn’t quite sure he should be thanking her for it. Or running in the opposite direction and screaming like a kindergartener on Benadryl who’d just met Freddy Krueger.

His gut voted for the boogeyman bolt.

“Who are you?”

She smiled. “Don’t you know?”

“Not a clue.”

She paused beside him to sniff at his shoulder and hair. Kind of creepy. Yeah, he was leaning even more toward the boogeyman scenario. “You are the Malachai?”

Nick hesitated at her tone that was almost insulting. Even so, when a being this powerful asked that question, it was never a good idea to give a straight answer. “Uh … Malamaybe?”