by Louisa Lo
But maybe not today.
As I jumped down from the edge of the metal box, the momentum carried me forward and I slumped over Hazel’s body, smearing tomato sauce and who knows what else onto her uniform. The landing wasn’t at all as controlled as I intended. Just that little leap out of what would’ve been my coffin took most of what I had left. I was seriously out of juice.
At least I started the day with clean underwear, I thought as stars swam in front of my eyes. Next thing I knew, I was in the tearoom of the Fainting Goats Palace, a favorite destination for demonic souls during a loss of consciousness.
***
I barely got down two cranberry scones, three cream custards, and four lemon squares before the mortal plane called my soul back. Might as well; the herd of resident fainting goats, who also served as pastry chefs for the spiritual getaway spot, were starting to give me the evil eye.
Cheapskates.
***
Pearl pendant digging into my neck? Check.
Deep and long breaths mimicking sleep? Check.
Trickster blood flowing through my veins with glee, exuberant from my recent calling of it? Check. I’d work on reining in that naughty impulse later. For now, I needed it to sharpen my instincts.
I’d woken up a full minute earlier, but I dared not broadcast that fact until I got all my ducks in a row. Jerking up from a bed after fainting was all nice and good in those human movies, but in real life, losing one’s capacity to control one’s body was not a thing to be taken lightly. I had to make sure there were no unfriendlies around.
No matter how nice Hazel had seemed.
Yes, I was definitely in a bed of some sort. Lying on my stomach, I could feel the too-hard mattress cutting into my ribs and the cotton sheet pressing up against my nose. It smelled clean but stale, as if it hadn’t been used since its last wash.
My stomach growled. I missed my dream-scones and orange pekoe tea served on the finest bone china. It really sucked that no matter how stuffed one got in the Fainting Goats Palace, the feeling never got carried back to the world of the conscious.
Confident that I was alone, I was just about to get up from the bed when I heard footsteps, so I stayed put.
The door opened.
“Hey, are you up?” Hazel asked.
If she’d remained silent or tried to walk in unannounced, I would’ve leaped up and ran out of the bedroom. Or at least tried to. But I was weak, so weak, and a more diplomatic route was preferred.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” I opened my eyes.
Hazel was standing at the doorway with her arms folded. “You were out for hours and hours, girl.”
Wow. That long? My body must’ve taken quite a hit and needed the down time. Was being out this long natural for mortals? Not willing to say anything that might reveal myself, I simply looked at the human female at the opposite end of the room.
She continued, “I brought you here because I didn’t know who to call. You don’t have any ID on you.”
While it was true that I never carried any human ID when I went on vengeance, there was no reason not to take me to a hospital. Every TV medical drama I’d ever watched revolved around people landing themselves in such an establishment.
“Why didn’t you just call an ambulance?”
“A dozen middle-grade kids came down with a mysterious flu. It’s causing wide-spread panic, and the ERs all around the city are swamped. They’re advising people not to go there unless it’s an absolute emergency.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. A mysterious flu and wide-spread panic? Sounded like the handiwork of one of my half-brothers. My trickster half-brothers.
“Believe me, being here is way better than what you’d get if I dump you at an ER.”
I looked around me. “And here is…”
“The employee infirmary room at the Parkington Inn. I work here.”
Parkington Inn. I remembered now. It was across the street from the retirement home. How arrogant of Dan Pillar to dump me right in his own neighborhood. But then, who would ever suspect an elderly man with a fondness for gold leaf red velvet cupcakes of committing murder in his private library?
“Thank you,” I said formally. I noticed for the first time that I was wearing a shapeless cleaning staff uniform. A spare, no doubt. My body wasn’t what I’d call powder-fresh clean, but most of the stink was gone.
“Don’t worry about it. I found you, so I thought it was my responsibility to bring you here and give you a wipe down with a wet towel.” She shrugged. “Look. I don’t mean to pry, but getting drunk like that, that’s not cool. If I hadn’t found you when I took out the trash, you’d be in the back of a dump truck heading for the landfill, without anyone noticing.”
I’d bet my formerly trash-covered ass that was what Dan Pillar was counting on.
I didn’t know how to respond to Hazel. I could’ve asked her to mind her own business, except something told me that she genuinely meant well. I lowered my head in the pretense of shame. It was best not to correct her assumptions. If I was a drunk who just happened to wander into the neighborhood and collapsed there, then there would be no point in mentioning me to anyone at the surrounding businesses. In that case, Dan wouldn’t hear about my survival. The bastard might even be arrogant enough not to skip town right away, giving me a small window of opportunity to catch him.
Figuring my bowed head was pretty much the most she could expect from me, Hazel gestured towards a small closet in the corner. “I put your clothes through the wash.”
I got up from the bed and started for the closet.
Hazel turned to leave then faced me once again, “The closest AA is just two streets down.”
I had no idea what the humans were doing with Angels Abound, a group of demons who were into the alternate lifestyle of cross-dressing as heavenly beings. But as it turned out, humans weren’t as out of touch with the supernatural as I thought. Who knew?
***
Tired as I was, I couldn’t hail a cab to take me home. Aside from not having any money on me, I couldn’t trust my trickery side not to be tempted into messing with the GPS direction or enchanting the human cabbie into a rousing chorus of “Born to be Wild.” Yes, the resulting chaos would be as inconvenient for me as it was for others, but trying to repress trickery using logic and self-preservation was like trying to convince a scorpion not to sting.
The walk home, across downtown Toronto with low magical storage, was excruciating. My kitten boots weren’t meant to be walked in for long distances. And there was the fact that they were half-melted. My leg and thigh muscles ached in protest with every exhausted pound onto the hard concrete.
I forgot to take my cell with me this morning, nor did I think to ask Hazel to let me use the phone before leaving. So I couldn’t call for help, either.
It wasn’t until I was halfway home that my muddled brain figured out there was a way for me to seek help. I could channel my trickery magic through a minor, single purpose spell. I focused my energy on the No Good Deeds enchantment, a spell that would summon someone who’d benefited from a kind gesture of mine in recent memory. The spell was very specific, only usable if the good Samaritans ended up having bad things happen to them afterward. Hence the name. But even with the spell as restricted as it was, I had to be careful not to overdo it, otherwise it could go sour and call forth someone I’d taken from instead. I so did not need to come face to face with the likes of Madeleine Abrianna Lex right now.
Serafina popped into an empty bus shelter ahead of me, her right hand holding onto a wet paintbrush on a downward stroke. She blinked as she took in her surrounding, aware that she’d just been yanked across the planes. For a moment she looked almost…wistful. Then she saw me, dropped the paintbrush and hurried over. I must’ve imagined that look of disappointment on her face, as if she was hoping to see someone else.
“What happened?” She asked, grabbing hold of my elbow as I swayed.
I explained in the briefest manner possible. M
y new friend opened a portal in the next deserted alley and saved me the rest of the walk home. Luckily with her being a full-blooded vengeance demon, my trickery magic couldn’t disrupt her power—otherwise we could’ve ended up in the zombie plane or something.
By the time she dragged me up the steps of the duplex at nine in the evening, I was drained, feeling as if I had no substance at all and even a little breeze could blow me away.
The surrounding area of the house felt…right. Balanced, in harmony, and at peace—in a demonic kind of way. I realized my half-sister must be here already. I wondered how she knew to come.
When I walked in the door, a worried-looking Rosemary got up from the living room table along with Esme. It appeared they’d been waiting up for me. While Rosemary seemed relieved at the very sight of me, Esme’s brows burrowed deeper. It was clear from her face that she immediately saw through the very weak glamour I’d thrown up just before I approached the entrance.
If I were a cell phone, my battery indicator would be at the last bar. In red.
Esme glared at Serafina, assuming, I suppose, the latter had something to do with my current status. I shook my head and gestured to Serafina, “She helped get me home, that’s all.”
Esme’s shoulder relaxed.
“Sorry, Megan.” Rosemary approached, kneading at her apron. “When you didn’t show up for my veal chops dinner—you sounded so excited when I quoted you the menu this morning—I assumed something was wrong and called your emergency contact.”
Yeah, little did she know the phone number I’d given her was enchanted to dial across the dimensions to reach Esme on the demonic side.
“Enough talking.” Esme cut Rosemary off. Miss Not-Used-To-Human-Interactions began tugging at my hand, leading me to my room and ignoring my roommate and the fellow demon who’d brought me home. To my half-sister, I was having an emergency, and she was tending to that emergency. Vengeance demon minds could be a bit one-track sometimes.
“Thanks. You did the right thing.” I turned my head to assure Rosemary as my sister dragged me away. Serafina nodded in understanding.
“I’ll see myself out.” She muttered.
“Megan, you don’t look so good.” Turned out the token glamour wasn’t enough even for my human roommate. Maybe it was the instinct of a chef, a provider of nourishment. “Sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? They cleared up that flu panic. Turns out the kids were all in the same free dental clinic and there was something about breathing in too much laughing gas—made it look like a mystery flu. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me.”
Esme muttered under her breath. “Blasted tricksters going to be the death of us all.”
Vengeance demons always complained that the chaotic nature of tricksters was going to destabilize the Concord one of these days. Couldn’t blame them. Vengeance was all about being exact, logical, and reasonable, while anything went for trickery as long as the fun factor was high. The sheer randomness of the prank victims was enough to give a vengeance demon a stomach ulcer.
I pretended I didn’t hear Esme’s complaint. I wouldn’t share my suspicion that the mischief was the doing of one of my half-brothers even on a good day, and this was anything but. Besides, while I always cringed when I saw an over-the-top trickery antic ending up in the human media, considering how I owed my life to my mother’s blood just hours ago, it seemed rather ungrateful to be ashamed of it.
I’d wait a day or two.
“So, no hospital then?” Rosemary followed us, refusing to be dismissed by Esme. Rather than those happy singing Italian chefs on TV, it would appear she had more of a Gordon Ramsay in her.
“I know what she needs,” Esme said simply.
Rosemary shook her head. “What she needs is some food, at the very least.”
“Later,” Esme snapped.
With a look that said let me handle this, Serafina hurried over and blocked Rosemary’s way. She started ushering my roommate toward the kitchen without looking like she was herding her. All the while, Serafina inquired about seasonal illnesses to look out for and general nutrition information. For all her potent though untrained power, Serafina used no magic on my roommate, relying instead on distraction and persuasion. I got the impression that the use of vengeance power still felt quite foreign to her.
Esme closed the door.
“Hey, be nice to Rosemary,” I chastised Esme. “She’s just trying to help.”
“She was in the way. I need to tend to you as soon as possible.” Esme frowned. “And she doesn’t seem to realize the urgent nature of this matter.”
“She does. That’s why she suggested the hospital. She’s a human. That’s how they get help.”
Once we were alone, I dropped the glamour, useless as it was, and flopped onto the single bed unceremoniously. Esme leaned over, traced my pearl pendant, then gasped in horror. I forced my tired eyes to focus on what she was looking at.
My pearl was translucent to an almost clear color, as if it was nothing but a tiny glass globe.
Uh-oh, I was almost completely out of power.
Without another word, Esme put my hands in hers and let her magic flow into me. It was a ticklish feeling, but not painful, like a thousand kitten whiskers brushing up against my palm.
Vengeance demons didn’t share power unless it was a dire situation. Enid would, now and then, help out her charges, but it was mostly due to her position. My half-sister and I had never shared power before. As I received the gift of her magic, I felt her love and worry rushing over me, warming me up from the inside out.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be surrounded by the life essence that was uniquely Esme—logical yet loving, ruthless yet vulnerable at the same time. I always knew that she cared about me, but experiencing it firsthand was quite another thing. Between her standoffish nature, the differing ways we were treated by society, the inherent conflict of interest between siblings, and my own insecurity, there was plenty to keep us from being close. But at this moment I felt so connected to her that I could catch glimpses of her soul in my mind’s eye. That closeness felt good, and I hugged it to myself as I touched my forehead lightly against hers.
Despite our difference in status, worldview, and temperament, we would always be sisters. Nothing would change that.
Esme didn’t stop the recharge until the milky-white luster returned to my pendant and her own earrings became semi-transparent. Only then did she pull away in exhaustion and slump over the squeaky folding chair I’d borrowed from the landlord.
“Thanks,” I whispered after a long moment.
“You’re welcome.” Then her face hardened. “What happened? Was this on a job?”
I told her, sparing no details. “Did you tell Dad?” I asked Esme.
“No, but I was going to if you didn’t show up in another hour or so. He called earlier in the evening and wanted to visit. He had leftovers from the Annual Veteran Vengeance Demon Picnic,” Esme said guiltily. “I told him you were out with your sorority sisters.”
I snorted. “When hell freezes over.”
“From the look of it, you fared better with them than with your target. And yes, by that I meant I heard about the little fight in the ring.” Esme frowned. “And the man who did this to you was a human? Who would’ve thought?”
“I swear, he looked totally like a run-of-the-mill mortal. There was nothing to tip me off about him.”
“I believe you.” Esme chewed on her lips. She looked like she was about to say something I wouldn’t want to hear, and I got a good idea where she was going. “It sounds like you wouldn’t have been able to beat him even if he hadn’t had the element of surprise. Look, you can’t go back to Enid empty-handed. She might like you, but she still answers to the Concord Council, and you know how they are.”
“Yeah. A bunch of old-school, judgmental jerks who are just waiting for an excuse to kick me, the abomination, out of the vengeance program. I know.” The Council members also served on the Board of Governor
s at the university, so there was no escaping them if I wanted a career in this field.
“We have to find a way to match your power to Dan’s, so you can complete your assignment. You know what we have to do, don’t you?”
“Let me see, kidnap a magic-sucking mosquito fairy and squeeze some juice out of her?”
“Megan, this is no time for jokes.” Esme gave me the dirtiest look she could manage, which was a tough job. Despite her devilish good looks and a budding reputation in the field of vengeance work, on a certain level she was still very much an innocent. The blood and gore of the job was a part of her as much as a meal of torn-up zebra was to a cute little lion cub. It didn’t turn her cruel, and she gained no pleasure from the target’s suffering. Her way of life was just that—life.
That was where, deep down, I feared we might be different. Trickery was all about the joy of the ruse, and the temptation to go full throttle during vengeance was in my very genetic code.
My very messed-up, confused genetic code.
Speaking of genetics…
“Alright.” I sighed. “We’ll go see Gran.”
I hated my grandmother because she was never shy about what she thought of me, and who knew, she might just be right. I hated her even more now because she was my best bet for beating Dan.
“She’s throwing a ball tonight to raise money for a sanctuary for retired golden lost-soul retrievers.”
“Good. Because I’ve got something I need to retrieve from her.”
“What is it?”
“My other pearl!” I paused and sniffed myself. “Well, shower first.”
Chapter Five
SERAFINA WAS GOING TO the same event. Her socially conscious family had insisted on her attendance, whether she wanted to go or not. So she left to prepare for it, promising to meet up with me at the ball later. Just as well, Esme and I had some preparation of our own to do.
Some kids sneaked a beer from their father’s basement before heading off to a big party. We opted to go to our parents’ place for a little magical pick-me-up.