It held up a large hourglass that only had a few grains of sand. “When this empties, if you’re not out here, Malachai, everyone you love will die.”

Nick scoffed until he realized there was a zeitjäger standing over everyone in the room, with a bloody sickle angled for their throats.

Everyone.

Including his unconscious mother.

How was that possible?

Stunned, he looked back at the king of all death and realized the sands in the glass were almost gone.

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

There are some journeys we must take alone. Nick paused as he heard his mother’s voice in his head with something she often said to him.

Birth. Death. Flossing. Toenail clipping. Bathroom breaks.

Garbage duty …

And apparently, facing whatever the heck that thing was outside his condo that appeared to be in charge of the zeitjägers.

All of those had to be done alone. Though to be honest, he had a childish urge to run through the birds, screaming like a hyperactive kid at the beach on a massive sugar high. A part of him wondered if they’d take flight and scatter like other fowl creatures.

Most likely not.

His luck? They’d gut him where he stood and peck out his eyes. They didn’t seem like the skittish type. More like the ones Zeus used to torture poor Prometheus for daring to give fire to mankind.

All right. Strap up, boy. Square those shoulders. Hold that head high. He was the Malachai. It was time to be the baddest beast in the land and show them who was boss.

But honestly? He wanted to tuck and run screaming in the opposite direction until there was nothing left of him except a vanishing vapor trail. The only thing that kept him from it was the number of people who were relying on him to be rock-steady. His mom. Kody. Caleb. Simi. Xev.

He refused to disappoint them.

They needed him to see this through. To be the man he pretended to be—the one he arrogantly professed to be whenever he was challenged. Not the boy he still felt like most days.

He wanted them to treat him like an adult. This was where adulthood began. And that was what being an adult meant. Handling crap you didn’t want to deal with. Standing strong when you wanted to cave. He’d seen his mom do it enough to know the truth. How many times had she put on a brave face while hiding tears and dressing for a job that demeaned her and sucked out a part of her soul?

And how many times had he overheard her quiet morning pep talks she gave herself as she readied herself to face the coming horrors of a day?

Yet to feed him and keep a lousy roach-infested roof over their heads, she’d done it, day after day, while never once complaining about it.

You did what you had to.