Hell Hath No Vengeance (Vengeance Demons Book 5)

by Louisa Lo

  Well, let’s see if we could get them to sing then, so to speak.

  But not before having lunch. A girl’s gotta fuel up, you know.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Before & After Shawarmas

  After a fulfilling lunch with great company at Mel’s, Gregory and I parted with Vera and went back to the duplex to check on Rosemary and his mother. Vera agreed to meet us in front of the recital hall for the trophy final that evening at six.

  Upon entering the house, we found an energetic Sassy bounding down the stairs to greet us. Her eagerness was partly due to the fact that she was glad to see me, but partly due to the doggy bag in my hand.

  No, it wasn’t the butter chicken sandwich that attracted her.

  The bag contained the broken pieces of bad guys’ souls that Mel picked up during his visit to the Cosmic Balance. When he came across morsels like that, he packed it up and saved it for my Sassy. It was good for the overall health of the Cosmic Balance and good for my feline shade, who was a devourer of evil souls.

  With her teeth, Sassy grabbed the treat out of my hand before I could even offer it to her, and took off to wherever feline shades went when they enjoyed a snack of pure evil. I guess upon my return she assumed she was officially off babysitting duty for now.

  Rosemary and Sophia were still sleeping in their respective rooms and appeared to be well. I felt like taking a nap myself, to be frank.

  And why not? It would be hours before our meeting with Vera. I would need some rest if I was to bring my A game to tonight's event.

  Catching Gregory yawning behind his hand discreetly, I bet he was feeling the same way.

  “Nap?” I asked.

  “Oh yes,” he said with feeling.

  Gregory settled in the living room armchair while I curled up on the futon after pulling it out. Exhaustion and stress from the previous night soon caught up with us. Before I drifted off, I thought I heard his thought brush against my consciousness.

  Rest well, sweetheart.

  ***

  I was woken by the sound of Vera’s voice. No, that was not the accurate description. It was more like Vera was whispering over the landscape of my mind. “Hey, Megan, wake up!”

  “What?” I sat up from the futon and checked my phone, seeing Gregory jumping to his feet. I guess Vera must’ve got to him, too. “Am I late—oh, it’s only four forty-five. Why are you here? We’re meeting at six. At the recital hall.”

  Vera looked down at her feet. “I just…want to make sure you’re not going to be late.”

  I caught what she didn’t want to admit. She was scared and excited over tonight, and the waiting was getting to be too much. She didn’t want to be alone right now. And she wanted to double check that we were still going to honor our deal. “Well, we should be getting up anyways.” Then I turned to Gregory, “You want to grab an early dinner?”

  His eyes widened. “We just had lunch.”

  “It was light.” I shrugged. Truth be told, my trickster genes made my metabolism work faster than the average vengeance demon. Plus I was a bit nervous about tonight as well, more so than any regular assignment we normally took on. So maybe I was trying to emotional eat a little.

  My cell rang. Not Marv, but my personal phone. A quick glance at the call display showed that it was from Esme, and I answered right away. Maybe she had some news regarding Grandma.

  “Hey, sis,” I said into the phone.

  “Megan, I believe I received a message from Gran,” Esme said.

  I barely stopped myself from squealing. “What did it say?”

  “It’s rather…cryptic.” Esme hesitated. “I was inside the Internet with Mother when it came. Just an impression of a few words over and over again. The power signature behind the message definitely felt like Gran, though.”

  “What did it say?” I asked impatiently.

  “Two words: rain raw.”

  “Rain wha?” What the hell of a message was that? Cryptic indeed.

  “I don’t know.” Frustration seeped into my half-sister’s voice. “Maybe it’s a code. Mother and I are going back in an hour or so to see if we could hear it again.”

  “Is there anything you need?” I asked.

  “No. I just wanted to call and give you an update. I’ll call again when I have more.”

  “Good luck.”

  As I hung up I was feeling oddly optimistic. Two leads in one day. After months of impasse. Not bad at all.

  Gregory, Vera and I took off, leaving Sassy, who had just come back from her evil-soul snacking, in charge again.

  We only had around an hour, so we teleported to a street near the recital hall that was lined with shops, hoping to grab something quick.

  And of course, there was a shawarma place right there. The irony was not lost on me that had Vera not been around, this could well be my first official date with Gregory.

  The corners of Gregory’s mouth lifted ruefully. Seemed like he was thinking along the same line.

  “Just pretend I’m not here,” Vera suggested, reading our minds. “I lurk in the shadow all the time anyways.”

  “Yeah, except this time around I know you’re there,” I pointed out.

  “Fine,” Vera snapped. “I’ll leave you alone. Make sure to be there by six.”

  She faded away. Gregory chuckled. “She could still be here, you know.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh, “Don’t I know it.”

  Gregory ordered a gyro sandwich, salad, and soft drink. I ordered a beef shawarma sandwich, guava juice, and a healthy helping of baklava. Yes, that was my second dessert of the day. Bad, bad, Megan. But wait, this was for celebrating Esme’s finding. Yeah, that was totally what it was. We got to celebrate the small wins in life while we could.

  We sat down at the back of the restaurant and dug in. But as I chewed, my mind was somewhere else. Thinking about Esme’s call got me thinking about that weird message again. Rain raw, as in raining raw food? Or like, raining in such a heavy way that it felt raw on the skin? I’d never heard those two words used in combination by Grandma before, so if it was a code, it was nothing I’d ever been privy to.

  “You’ll figure it out,” Gregory said, guessing where my thoughts had turned to. With supernatural hearing, he didn’t need to have his ear pressed right next to the phone to catch the other side of my conversation with Esme.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, grateful at his faith in me, which I wasn’t exactly feeling right now.

  Suddenly, I realized that now that there were only the two of us, this could technically be counted as a first date. I had no idea what to say to him, so I ate some more, buying myself a bit of time.

  The thing was, had we gone on this date soon after we met like most vengeance couples did, there would’ve been a lot more Q&A opportunities to fill the time.

  I couldn’t ask him what it was that he did for a living, because I was already his business partner. I couldn’t be horrified by his mercenary lifestyle. Been there, done that, and became one of them. I couldn’t ask him about his parents because I’d already met them, under rather unique circumstances to boot.

  Heck, I couldn’t even ask him about the nature of his magical power, because I’d already figured out how to complement his with mine to work as one well-oiled machine.

  So we just kept eating in companionable silence, like we did during our many business dinners before, often for the purpose of being at the right place to punish a target.

  Maybe it was a bit too companionable. Weren’t first dates supposed to be all about angst and foot-in-the-mouth moments?

  Here went nothing.

  “Er, so,” I began, “the payment from Leonard already cleared my account. Did it clear yours yet?”

  I winced. What the heck of a date-like question was that? Asking about money transfer into a guy’s bank account?

  Gregory cleared his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to check yet. But I’m sure it did.”

  Pause.

  “Y
eah, ’cause it’s, you know, never late,” I mumbled.

  Pause.

  “So, have you ever had frog legs?” I had no idea why those words popped into my head, but as soon as they left my mouth, I kicked myself. We talked about going to French cuisine for the second date. Now the first date had barely started, and it sounded like I was already angling for a second one.

  Desperate, much?

  “No, I haven’t,” Gregory said between bites. “It sounds interesting, though.”

  Interesting? That was the go-to word to use when something was totally not.

  You’re doing great, Megan. Just great.

  “Are you into bondage?” I blurted out.

  Gregory’s eyes widened and he choked on the end bit of his sandwich. You know, the part with folded pita and plenty of dry bread to lodge in one’s throat. He quickly took a few large gulps from his drink. “What are you talking about?”

  I shrugged. “I suck at this first-date conversation business anyway, why not embarrass the hell out of myself and see if I come out the other end?”

  Gregory laughed. “Would you be offended if I give it a try?”

  “Sure.” I grunted.

  “So what got you interested in the human pop culture in the first place?” he asked.

  I admit, that was a pretty good conversation topic. “It started from a pretty young age. I think it comforted me that there’s this race of beings out there who has no magic in them whatsoever, yet manage to survive just fine. It made my hybrid issue seem smaller, somehow. I mean, I might be of two bloods, but at least they’re both of magic, right? These humans have neither.”

  He folded the tinfoil sandwich wrappings neatly into an ever-smaller triangle as he contemplated my words. “I admit. I do admire them. They now have stuff that’s even more effective than what the supernaturals can do.”

  “And you know what I also find fascinating?” Warming up to the topic, I added, “The lack of magic doesn’t stop people from doing bad things. The percentage of humans ending up in Hell is on par with every other race from the Cosmic Balance. It really comes down to personal choices.”

  “To choices.” Gregory lifted his soft drink cup, and his eyes told me he was talking about more than the choice to sin.

  “To choices.” I lifted my guava juice.

  After talking about the human pop culture, we moved onto the human geek culture, and to my surprise Gregory was quite familiar with it. An old client of his, a comic book artist, was famous for drawing very life-like female monsters that were both intimidating and sexy. Turned out his secret weapon was the essence from real monsters that Gregory smuggled to him for use in his ink.

  “When you say essence…” I let my voice trailed off.

  “Saliva.” He gave me a sheepish look. “Don’t ask for details. I was young, desperate, and stupid.”

  I bit back a laugh. “Did you kiss she-demons in order to collect—”

  “—I’ll say no more.” He promptly pushed the plate of baklava in front of me, distracting me.

  Bastard.

  ***

  When we came out of the shawarma place, it was ten before six, and the summer sun was still pretty high in the sky. The recital hall was just off the side street ahead, so we had plenty of time to make it.

  As we walked past a closed hardware shop, Gregory pulled me right next to its front window.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  He pulled out a packet that was similar in size to the ones containing sugar in coffee shops, opened it, and sprinkled a golden brown fairy dust all over us. Instantly it was as if I’d put on a pair of ultra-dark sunglasses, and the surrounding area looked like it was nighttime.

  “What is this?” I looked around me. There were people on the street, but they didn’t appear to notice the switch to nighttime. In fact, they acted like Gregory and I were invisible, as one middle-aged woman nearly bumped into my shoulder as she passed by.

  “We’re hidden from them.” Gregory smiled. “And we see everything in semi-darkness. The powder is one of your brother’s more obscure products. Believe it or not, they’re building up a side business for the romantically inclined.”

  I understood now. Gregory was buying us some privacy complete with mood lighting.

  Ever so gently, Gregory took me into his arms. He made sure our eyes were locked, wanting me to know that he knew perfectly well what he was getting himself into. He pulled me close so our faces were inches from each other.

  I nervously licked my lips, knowing he was going to kiss me.

  Granted, we’d kissed before. But this felt like the first time we should’ve had. Without the shadow of his parents’ entanglement, and his fear of it, encumbering us.

  Gregory caressed the spot my tongue had moistened with his fingertip. Then he lowered his head.

  Our lips met. His unique brand of clean citrus body scent and Earl Grey tea power signature enveloped me in a protective haven of warmth and hope. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders, then his chest. His torso was clothed now, but I’d seen it bare, with intricate patterns of tattoos telling the story of a noble house he would never be a part of. It didn’t matter to me. I accepted all of him. His origin. The innocent boy that he was. The angry adolescent who nevertheless loved his mother. The mercenary adult that he became.

  Ever and always.

  After a long time, we broke off the kiss and I raised an eyebrow at him. “So, you just happened to have this fairy dust on your person this whole time?”

  “I kept it around as a talisman.” Gregory shrugged. “A guy could hope.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Most Unwilling Alibis

  The recital hall for the music festival was on the vengeance plane of downtown London, Ontario. I was sure that on the human side, the large stone building with steep steps would’ve been an old church. But on the vengeance side the structure was simply a community hall that people rented for everything from wedding receptions to line dancing classes.

  Yes, vengeance demons were into line dancing, too. The older ones, at least.

  The wooden front doors of the hall were wide open, and a reception table was placed right inside the entrance. Men and women in handsome clothes were making their way there, accompanied by kids who resembled miniature adults with their formal wear. Most of the kids looked bored. And who could blame them? Classical music was an acquired taste.

  Vera was already waiting for us on the steps. With her default cat suit and tattooed arms, she fitted in with the recital crowd like a snake blended in with a pack of bunnies.

  “What the hell took you so long?" Vera got up and demanded as soon as Gregory and I were in hearing range. A few people turned and looked at her, frowning at her uncultured manners.

  I checked my cell phone. "What are you talking about? We're right on time."

  I guess I should be glad it at least didn’t sound like she’d witnessed my kiss with Gregory.

  "Let's go. Let's go.” She hurried up the steps and gestured us to follow suit. “Every minute we’re not getting to my man is like a year in Hell’s time."

  “Have you checked that it’s safe for you to enter?” Gregory asked Vera.

  Sometimes the insignia of the Council got displayed in major sporting and musical events. We needed Vera to guide us through the festival, and the last thing we wanted was for her to be barred from the premises.

  “I’m good,” Vera assured us. “I checked already.”

  According to the syllabus, tonight's trophy final was for all of the voice categories, adult or otherwise. I had no idea what to expect from such a competition. Music education had never been a big part of my upbringing, because there was always more than enough to deal with thanks to my dual background. Like learning how not to get tricked by my half-brother, Fir, into singing during a math test as if I was in the shower.

  We approached the reception table and there were two girls there.

  "Do you have tickets for tonight?"
one girl asked. She was giving our everyday clothes the once over with a distasteful look. Well, what did I expect? This was an event for both vengeance demons and classical music lovers, it didn’t get more snobbish than that.

  I guess I should’ve put on an expensive dress. Too late now.

  "No, we don’t have tickets. Can we buy them here?" Gregory inquired.

  “Do you have a festival membership?" The other girl asked, her eyes flickered to Vera's sexy getup. Was that disgust, or envy in her gaze?

  "No," I replied. “Can we buy that?”

  “Were you members in the past?" the first girl asked.

  "No," I bit out, trying to keep my frustration in check. I had to really watch myself here. There might be some powerful vengeance demons in the proximity, as there was a high correlation between people who came from old families and those who enjoyed classical music. We were supposed to be doing this on the down low, especially if it involved Hell. Last thing we needed was an incident worthy of the local paper.

  "Then no," the second girl said with glee. “Not on the spot. The application process is six months long. Through regular mail. It has to go through the board, you see.”

  “But—” I started to argue.

  “Who is your superior?" Gregory placed a hand on my shoulder and interjected in a voice that allowed no horsing around. I took a deep breath. He sounded intimidating to my ears, and I wasn’t even the ones he was trying to intimidate.

  Like a deer caught in the headlights, the girls lifted their fingers and pointed at a figure in the main lobby, a middle-aged woman with glasses and a clipboard greeting guests as they went in.

  Gregory sailed passed the reception table and pulled the lady aside, whispering into her ear. Then he showed her something on his cell. Her spine straightened, she stalked toward the entrance with Gregory following close by.

  “Beatrice, Victoria, please issue this gentleman and his friends tickets for tonight.”