Angelbound THRAX

by Christina Bauer

  That’s my girl.

  Leaning over, Cissy fishes around inside her satchel. A second later, she pulls out a fancy laptop from her bag. It’s so thin, you’d think the thing was made of paper. “I have a list of things for us to review. Do you feel well enough?”

  In this moment, I love Cissy to pieces. This is why my bestie kicks ass as a Senator, even though she’s the ripe old age of nineteen. The girl is an organizational force of nature.

  I tuck the sheets under my arms. “I’m ready.”

  “You’re been recovering for a day now.”

  “Only a day?” The way my dreams dragged on and on, I would have thought I was out for a week.

  “Yes, a little under a day. It’s now early Thursday morning, which means I’ve had plenty of time to review reports and organize my questions.” Cissy gives me her puppy dog eyes, which are her specialty, considering her golden retriever tail and all. “To start off, I just have to say this. I’m so sorry about Ethan trying to sedate you through your pregnancy.”

  “Thanks for the sympathy, but don’t worry too much.” My tail arcs over my shoulder. “Ethan is a dead man.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.” Cissy types a few keys and fixes me with her “I’m getting this shiz organized” stare. “Now, first question. You asked me before not to tell anyone where you are. Is that what you still want?”

  My eyes widen. “Everyone in the after-realms doesn’t know where I am?” I think back to my dreams. In them, my parents thought I was dead. Even so, I figured it was just that: a dream. And I remember some strange stuff before I took the Pulpitum out of Antrum, but I was heavily sedated at the time. A sinking feeling churns through my insides. “There’s more to this question, isn’t there?” I ask.

  “Well, the way you left Antrum was…” Cissy taps her nail against the edge of the laptop in rapid-fire style. She only taps like crazy when she’s super nervous.

  “You can tell me anything, Cis.”

  “I’ve received some bizarre intelligence from my diplomatic team back in Purgatory.” She clears her throat. “The reports say that you climbed into an oven?” She stares at me like that’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard.

  “It was a lime kiln.”

  Cissy’s jaw drops. “Lime kiln.”

  “I didn’t say anything because Lincoln asked me to keep it a secret. Lime kilns are like medieval fix-it thingies. My igni told me to climb into one and escape. Lincoln said it was super-safe.”

  “My reports say it was lit to like, a million degrees inside.”

  “It got magically cooled when I said a secret pass-phrase.” Okay, that sounds totally insane even to me. “Whatever. I crawled in and everything was fine.”

  “Got it.” Cissy screws her mouth up to one side, and she types onto the keyboard again. “Actually climbed into lit oven.” She looks up from her typing. “Then what happened?”

  “Umm, maybe I heard an explosion or something.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Definitely?” I shrug. “At the time, I was shot full of tranqs and trying to escape. What do your report say?” I sit up a little higher, trying to peer onto her screen.

  “My information says there was definitely an explosion. Everyone present saw the lime kiln blow up.” Cissy shakes her head. “This is all very strange.”

  “Not really. It was an escape route.”

  “Escape route.”

  “You keep repeating what I say.”

  “This is a lot to take in.”

  “Here’s the deal. The lime kiln was a secret way to leave Antrum. Walker found it ages ago and didn’t tell anyone. The kiln also included a booby trap so no one would follow. That was the explosion. I get how this seems strange, but come on. Who would really believe that I crawled into a super-hot oven and got myself blown up? I was acting crazy, but not that nuts.”

  Cissy snaps the laptop shut and folds her hands neatly atop the closed device. “Myla, everyone absolutely believes that you crawled into a super-hot oven and got yourself blown up.”

  “Everyone? Really?”

  “Everyone.”

  Now it’s my turn to have a hard time accepting things. “What about that thrax Captain, Williamson? He helped me find the kiln. He knows it was only an escape trick.”

  Cissy scans her sheet. “There’s nothing in my reports about any Williamson.”

  I worry my lower lip with my teeth. Dang, I hope that guy is all right. If Ethan or Evil Lincoln found out that Williamson helped me escape, that loyal guard could have big trouble. And the man has a family, no less.

  “That said, my reports are filled with notices of your, uh, passing.”

  I wave Cissy off. She’s making a big deal about nothing. “Please. Nobody thinks I’m dead.” The words come out as more of a question, though.

  “Oh yes, yes they do.”

  My shoulders slump. “Really?”

  “Really and for truly.”

  Whoa. All my family, friends, and subjects think that I’ve passed away. It’s a strange sensation, like being freed and tied down at the same time. I settle more deeply onto my mattress. “You know, I heard some people yelling ‘the Queen is dead’ as I was transported away. I thought it was all a dream, though.”

  “It wasn’t. What else did you think was a dream?”

  “I had visions of my parents mourning, and then I saw this…” I eye Cissy, debating whether or not to describe the little glowing guy. Based on how Cissy is still tapping her laptop and looking at me like I’m nuts, I decide to pass on the gleaming dude part of my dreams. My bestie is having enough trouble adjusting to the lime kiln thing.

  “So if everyone thinks I’m dead, how is my family taking it?”

  “Not well. In Antrum, there’s a special ceremony that happens when a Great Scala dies unexpectedly.”

  “Thrax and their traditions. Color me not surprised. What’s it about?”

  “They shut down the gates of Heaven and Hell for a time. It’s supposed to give the igni a chance to mourn.”

  My brows lift. “I had no idea that would happen.”

  Cissy glances at her sheet. “Your father was the one who insisted on reviving the ceremony. Didn’t they do anything like that when the last Scala died?”

  “When the last Scala went, it was totally expected. You remember him. Dude was older than dirt.” The last great Scala was a thrax who’d done the job for a thousand years. He looked it, too.

  “Right.” Cissy raises her pen again. “All of which brings me back to my original question. Do you want me to inform your family that you’re alive?”

  I tap my cheek and contemplate my options. “If they know I’m alive, then they’ll be here in a heartbeat. And you know what they’ll do, too: drag me right back into the after-realms. I need to stay here and find Lincoln.”

  Cissy screws up her mouth. “They might not take you back.”

  “Cis. They think I just crawled into a freaking oven and got my pregnant self BLOWN the Hell UP.”

  Cissy leans back in her chair. I’m glad to see she’s stopped tapping her pen. It’s a sign that she’s accepting things now. “You know, the whole oven scenario is kind of a Hansel and Gretel move, if you asked me.”

  “That’s what I said, too.” Cissy and I think so much alike sometimes, it’s not even funny. “And you know my mom. There’s no way she’d let me stay on Earth.”

  “True. She still gets a little off balanced when it comes to you.”

  “Well, Lincoln’s parents are just as protective. Together, they’ll drag me right back to Purgatory or Antrum. Lincoln’s fam might even be totally okay with Ethan’s ‘let’s sedate her for the rest of the pregnancy’ plan. Am I right or am I right?”

  Cissy sighs. “You’re totally right.”

  “Then it’s settled. Telling anyone that I’m alive is off the list. Next item?” I love how organized Cissy is. The little homework I did in high school was totally copied from her, by the way.

  A kno
ck sounds at the door. “Hello, is the patient awake?”

  I sit straighter on the bed. “Yes, I’m up. Who is it?”

  A doctor strides into my room. The guy’s a stocky dude with ebony skin that stands out against his white lab coat. His large brown eyes and closely-cropped gray hair give him the perfect image of “trustworthy physician.”

  “I’m Doctor Obianu. How’s the patient?”

  I twiddle my fingers at him. “Feeling great.”

  The doc flips through his clipboard. “Your blood work came back normal. Congratulations on the pregnancy, by the way. Now, we can do some additional tests, if you like. Although your results are normal, there are some interesting qualities in your blood that might be useful to test merely for scientific purposes…”

  After that, the doc goes on about some blah-blah-blah testing stuff, but all I can really do is focus on the Hunter Enterprises logo that’s embroidered on his lab coat. I didn’t notice it before because it’s white-on white, but now that he’s closer? I can’t miss it. I point at the emblem in question. “Why is that logo on your jacket? Doctors don’t advertise stuff.”

  Note to self: Mom said I’d never learn anything useful from the Human Channel. Check out all that doctor outfit knowledge. Ha!

  “Oh, this?” The doc looks down at his chest. “It’s not advertising, really.” His big brown eyes take on a dreamy look. “Hunter Enterprises is changing this hospital like they’re changing the world.” He gives us a half smile. “But you two know all about that, of course.”

  “No,” says Cissy. “We don’t know.”

  “Yeah,” I add. “What’s up?”

  “No one develops technology like Hunter Enterprises,” explains the doc. “They’re even going to upgrade all our systems at no charge so they work like magic. We won’t even need electricity even more.” He grips his clipboard so tightly, the papers rattle. “Plus, have you seen what H-E is doing at the airport?”

  “Uh, no.” I’m still a little stuck on the phrase “work like magic,” but I decide to let that slide for the moment. The airport thing sounds much more interesting. “Go on.”

  “It’s all happening at LaGuardia airport,” explains the doc. “They have closed down the runways and filled them with jet planes and helicopters. There’s even a dirigible.”

  “You mean a blimp?” Cissy frowns. “I thought those exploded.”

  “Nothing from Hunter Enterprises ever malfunctions.” The dreamy look returns to the strong lines of the doc’s face. “And no one calls them blimps anymore. They’re Hunter Dirigibles now. Every inch of them is jammed with amazing tech. H-E kept it all top secret for ages. In fact, the only prototype in the world is hovering over at LaGuardia right now.” He glances at his watch. “Once I’m off duty, I plan to check it out. They’re calling it the Touch The Tech Event.”

  “You seem pretty excited.” My brows lift. Ethan mentioned this event back in Antrum.

  “It’s H-E,” says the doc. “So everyone is excited. It’s been all over the news. Only, you know the risks out there.”

  My tail does its up-periscope move over my shoulder. “I do?”

  “There are rumors of other worldly beings—demons—who might try to infiltrate H-E and use their power for evil. Of course, I don’t believe a word of it.” As he makes that statement, the doc looks one hundred percent convinced that demons exist. “Fortunately, H-E has Razor Guard troops at the ready for any kind of counterstrike, whether it’s mortal or not.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Riiiiiiiiiight.” This is definitely the event that Ethan mentioned at the Summit. It’s supposed to be some Touch The Tech stuff followed by a thrax demon patrol run by the Earls. And what would happen if humans actually saw demons as part of that exercise? Ethan and his Razor Guards could swoop in to save everyone. And in the process, Ethan could take over both the human and thrax realms.

  At that moment, the door swings half open, and a nurse pops her head in. She’s young with big eyes, copper skin, and straight black hair pulled into a neat bun. “Doctor? I need your signature on this form.”

  Dr. Obianu turns around to examine the paperwork, and that’s when I see it. There’s a Grotus demon on his neck.

  Grotus demons, ugh.

  These slimy parasites sap the strength of whoever they latch onto. They’re lime green, slimy, and incredibly painful to their host.

  Oh, yeah. For once, things are looking up. That Grotus is going down.

  Chapter Eleven

  As I stare at the Grotus demon, heat pools behind my eyes. My irises brighten with the red of demonic wrath.

  “Don’t you dare,” says Cissy.

  Oh, I dare.

  Thrax rank demons by letter; Grotus are Class D. In other words, they’re not too hard to kill. That said, they’re painful little buggers who drive migraines into the humans they latch onto. Since the doc healed me, the least I can do is kill the demon on his neck and skull.

  And if it helps me blow off a little steam after my crap time escaping from Ethan?

  Hey, that’s just a bonus.

  Once the nurse is gone, the doc turns back to face me. “Where were we?” he asks.

  Cissy gestures to the door. “You were saying the patient here is dismissed and you’re leaving. Now.”

  I rub my palms together in the mwhah-hah-hah movement of super-villains everywhere. “The doc can hang out for a second,” I say slowly.

  “You wouldn’t,” says Cissy. But the exasperated note in her voice says she’s already accepted the inevitable.

  I leap out of bed. All I’m wearing is my hospital gown; it opens in the back. That said, Cissy’s seen my butt before. And in front of me? It’s all Grotus demon, all the time.

  The doc rubs his neck. His hand slides right through the Grotus demon because, of course, the doc can’t see or feel it. I roll my eyes. Here the doc is all worried about Ethan’s fake demons when there’s a real one attached to his skull. Oh, well. That’s just one of the many downsides to being mortal. You can’t see the demonic or angelic realms. But in my eyes? That Grotus looks all green and sluggy.

  “I was going to leave, wasn’t I?” asks the doc.

  I step closer. “Neck giving you trouble?”

  “Why, yes. It’s been that way for years. I have a strained muscle.”

  “No, you have a Grotus demon at the base of your skull. Do you spend a lot of time in the woods?” Grotus like to hang out on pine trees. If a human gets too close, they drop down and latch on.

  “How did you know that?” asks the doc. “I haven’t gone camping for years, but I used to all the time. And did you say demon?”

  Cissy’s voice takes on a warning tone. “Myla.”

  “Wait a moment.” The doc frowns and checks his paperwork. “You gave her name as Miss. G. Scala.”

  “Excuse me.” I step up closer. Now, I’m almost toe-to-toe with the doc. In other words, I’m well within striking distance. My tail doesn’t need any invitation. It arches over my shoulder and moves to spear the Grotus demon. The clever little bugger squirms out of the way, avoiding the arrowhead end of my tail. It has a tiny mouth filled with needle-like teeth. With every dodge, the demon keeps making awful squealing noises and trying to gnaw on my tail. Tough luck. Nothing can break through dragonscales.

  Still, for a Class D demon, this little creep is putting up quite a fight.

  The doc arcs his head from side to side. “Neck feels strange today.”

  I point over his shoulder. “Oh no, look at that!”

  “What?” The doc turns around and I have my chance. The Grotus demon is less than a foot away now. With lightning speed, I punch the Grotus in the side of its sluggy head, knocking it clear off the doc’s back. My punch was a good shot; it hit the demon without affecting the host at all.

  As the Grotus tumbles down, my tail spears the slimy critter straight through its middle, holding it in place. With a swish of my hips, my tail flings the critter against the wall. The Grotus lands with a sticky
thwack before slowly sliding to down onto the floor. The doc can’t see anything, of course. But sometimes humans are sensitive enough to know something is going on, even if they can’t see or hear it.

  I step back so my tail can wipe itself off on my blanket. “Do you mind leaving so I can barf?” I point to my stomach. “Pregnancy, you know.”

  The doc frowns. “Do you need further medical help?”

  “Nope. Definitely not.” I shoot the doc a hearty thumbs-up.

  “This happens all the time,” offers Cissy. “I just feed her a cracker and she’ll be all better in like a minute.” For the record, Cissy is a really good liar.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling all right, doc?” I ask.

  “I’m fine.” That said, the doc doesn’t look fine. In fact, he looks really, really, really confused. I don’t blame him. Poor humans. They make up all sorts of reasons for their problems when half the time, it’s totally demonic.

  “Neck feeling better now?” I ask.

  Cissy narrows her eyes at me. “You know it’s feeling better.”

  The doc’s voice takes on a dreamy tone. “How would you know my neck is better?”

  “Call it a wild guess.” I gesture toward the door. “How about you leave now?” I put my finger over my mouth and puff out my cheeks in the universal symbol for ‘barf a coming.’ “Privacy?”

  “Leaving.” The poor guy looks totally freaked. “Yes, I suppose that’s best.” The doc shuffles out the door. He closes it behind him with a soft click.

  The second the doc is gone, Cissy rounds on me. “Myla!”

  “What?”

  “You can’t go around killing demons. Some humans are sensitive. They can’t see anything, but it freaks them out. If we’re going to find Lincoln, we need to keep a low profile.”

  I open my mouth, ready to argue, but then I shut it just as quickly. “You’re right. I need to save my killing energy for the times when it can help Lincoln.” Sadly, there are too many demons in a big city like New York, anyway. I could spend a lifetime skewering Grotus creatures and never make a dent.