Invincible Chronicles of Nick

EPILOGUE

Six Weeks Later

Nick sat on the stoop of their new home on Bourbon Street, taking a rest from helping his mom unpack their meager belongings. The scent of gumbo and crawfish wafted down from the restaurants along with the faint sounds of jazz and zydeco. Of tourists laughing and shouting.

While their new apartment could be considered huge only compared to their former condo, he at least had his own bedroom this time … one with actual walls and a real bed that Kyrian had given him as a birthday present. The new place was clean, with running hot water, and everything worked.

Best of all, the sadness was gone out of his mother’s eyes. She had a pride to her now that he’d never seen in her before. That made everything worthwhile to him.

But he still wanted more.

His gaze went to the huge gray house across the street that had a wraparound porch trimmed with ornate black wrought iron. That was where he wanted to live.

“Don’t worry, kid. You will.”

He glanced to his right to see Ambrose walking toward him. He sneered at his uncle’s appearance, still angry at him for the way he’d abandoned them when they needed him. “How do you know?” he asked belligerently.

Ignoring his venom, Ambrose smiled. “I just do. And it won’t be long until you and your mom are hanging your baby pictures on the stairs of that very house.”

Funny thing was, he could see it clear as a bell in his mind. Ever since Kody had given him his scrying mirror, his second sight kept getting better every day.

Not that it mattered right now. “I’m still angry with you for not helping us with the coach. That was so wrong of you.”

“And yet you survived. You needed that experience, Nick. It gave you a confidence you didn’t have before.”

Yeah, right. That rated right up there with the old This is going to hurt me more than it does you bull crap. “Don’t give me that psychobabble garbage about how it forced me to grow as an individual and that that which doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. I don’t want to hear it. You tell me I can trust you, and then you’re just as quick to walk out as my father was. Is this some inherited genetic defect I need to know about? Am I going to walk out on my kid, too?”

His expression turned dark. Deadly. “No. You’ll never do that.”

Nick rolled his eyes as Ambrose brushed back his hair from his face with his left hand. His heart stopped as he realized something.

No. No way.

It couldn’t be.

Holding his breath, Nick reached up and took Ambrose’s hand into his. Oh my God.

Ambrose had the same exact scar Xenon had given him when he’d cut his palm for blood.

A scar that Ambrose hadn’t had the times he’d seen him before …