Read Night of Nyx (The Nightfall Chronicles 2.5) for Free Online

fights with renegade Nephilim after dinner."
    "I'll do my best to stay out of trouble," he promises.
    The eScreen on his wall comes to life, and they both pause to look up. The Vatican symbol appears on the screen and is replaced by the image of a man in the prime of youth wearing pristine white robes.
    Corinne looks over at her dad. "His Holiness? At this hour?"
    Varian frowns. "You should leave."
    She doesn't argue as she grabs her medical supplies and scurries out of the room. Pope Icarus smiles at Varian through the screen. "King Varian, you look as if you have been in a brawl."
    "A skirmish," Varian says. "Nothing serious. Just training harder than normal to prepare for Nightfall."
    Icarus nods. "Have you found Nyx yet?"
    Varian shakes his head. "No one has seen or heard from him since he escaped the care of Marcus and Violet Night."
    "That's disappointing," Icarus says.
    Varian maintains his smile as he pulls a shirt on to cover his bandages. He keeps his thoughts to himself about the corrupt reign of Pope Icarus, knowing no good will come from defying His Holiness now. No, he must wait, bide his time, find what he needs, and then he can strike. Once he has Nightfall he can make the world a better place and save it from this man before him. But for now, he needs the Pope as much as the Pope needs him.
    "So little success, Varian. I wonder, do you have a plan?”
    Indeed. Varian bites his tongue. "I do have a plan, Your Holiness. I will play to her weakness."
    "And what is her weakness?" Icarus asks, his dark eyes penetrating.
    "She believes she can save everyone."

CHAPTER 8
     
     
     
     
     
    When Nightfall finds Zorin, he is fully healed and still sitting on the roof, legs hanging of the edge, letting the golden sun light his face. She walks up behind him, her footsteps light, but he can feel her approach.
    "Do you worry the Angel will return for you?"
    It seems so long ago that he battled the Angel after it killed Scarlett's parents and nearly killed her. So many battles. So much blood. Will it be worth it? He shrugs. "No point in worrying about what you can't control." He leans back, letting his elbows rest on the roof. "Out of curiosity, what will you do after you find the Angel?"
    "Kill it."
    She sits next to him and he can see the profile of her face. She is, as always, dressed as Nightfall, the avenging rebel leader. But he has seen her as Scarlett, scared eighteen-year-old who just lost her parents. Who nearly lost her life. Who lost everything and yet keeps fighting for what she believes is right. "No. After."
    "I'll…" She pauses.
    Zorin smiles. "If all you care about is the Angel, why create the Dark Templars?"
    "For my parents."
    "Were they secret rebels too?" He knew her parents and knows the answer more than she, but he needs her to think.
    "No—"
    "Then why?"
    "Because I've seen injustice, and I will end it."
    "Because you know what is right?"
    "No." Her voice softens. "But I believe more than one person should decide."
    He nods. "Remember those words. When you find your Angel."
    "You think the Angel should live?"
    "I just wonder whether you'll give it a trial, or play judge and jury."
    She scowls at him. "Whose side are you on?"
    "Yours," he says, his smile fading. "Always yours." He leans closer to her and begins to talk.
    "I traveled with a prince, once. His father, the King, disowned him when he was a boy. ‘No weakling is a son of mine,’ he said. So the prince vowed to grow strong and one day return and destroy his father.
    "For years he traveled, collecting mercenaries, bandits, thieves, until he was no longer a boy. ‘I'm not ready,’ he said. ‘I need a castle of my own,’ he said. He did not pillage or burn. He marched his army to the castle of a warlord, one known for terrorizing the countryside, and forced him to surrender before his might. As the prince took his new throne, his right-hand man informed him that his father, the King, had passed away in his sleep. The prince felt rage,