The Vengeance Demons Series: Books 0-3 (The Vengeance Demons Series Boxset)

by Louisa Lo

  Judge Bias continued, not expecting an answer from me. “I now call a second witness, Miss Madeleine Abrianna Lex.”

  My heart sank. Madeleine walked into the courtroom in a pink lacy full skirt, one of those that looked like it was layered over a heavy petticoat. She looked more like a Gothic Lolita than a vengeance demon. The choice of clothes was such a far departure from her usual fanfare that I couldn’t help but notice, despite my present dilemma.

  “Your honor,” Madeleine bowed. “I heard Megan threaten Frederick Maximilian Aequitas just before disaster struck. She has to be in league with the trickster criminals.”

  I groaned, not just because of the negative testimony, but also because I told my dad she was a friend. And now he’d know that I’d lied to him.

  “What did she say?”

  “She said, I’ll foam you at the mouth. And the next thing we knew, poor Frederick had a broken nose and banged up head for his trouble. Megan had to be involved. This is all her doing.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lex. You may sit.”

  Madeleine’s face reddened. “I’d rather not, sir.”

  “It’s alright, you can sit. I’m allowing it.” The high judge encouraged.

  “I mean, I can’t.” She smoothed down the back of her full skirt, and for the first time I noticed something uneven poking out. The pig’s tail. She still had it. She was wearing what she was wearing for practical reasons. Just like last night, it would’ve been funny if it were any other time.

  The high judge turned to me and scowled. “The Council will now vote on a verdict. Your senses will be muted as we discuss this matter.”

  As I stayed rooted to my spot, in a semi-aware trance to prevent me from eavesdropping, I was left with nothing to do in my mental fog but to confront the two opposing emotions swelling up deep within me.

  Hope and anger.

  Hope that the Council would see past their own wounded pride and prejudice and give me a fair ruling.

  Anger that they’d put me through this whole drama to begin with.

  After five minutes, but what felt like an hour, High Judge Advocatus released me from my mental prison and addressed me. “We, the Concord Council, hold you responsible for what happened last night at the Aequitas ball. You are found guilty, and by extension, your father as well.”

  Wait a second, I thought Dad was only here to give a statement. I had no idea he was on trial as well. Dammit, the last thing I wanted was to drag him into my mess.

  “For Nicolas Bartholomew Aequitas the second, the arch vengeance demon.” High Judge Advocatus went on and named a minor fine Dad could easily afford.

  Plus a grueling punishment ordered out of pure spite—three months of being on call for the most crappy work assignments in remote planes. Mom was not going to be happy. Actually, chances were she was going to sneak off and join him. Human wives went shopping while accompanying their men on business trips; my mamma went mischief hunting instead. Nobody did a disguise better than her, and she knew enough not to blow my dad’s cover or to be detected by the Council’s spies.

  So maybe not too bad in Dad’s case, then.

  “As for you, Megan.” High Judge Advocatus didn’t even bother to use my full vengeance demon name, which was not a good sign. “You’re suspended. From both the co-op program and the university until further notice.”

  I struggled to breathe as hot blood boiled through my body, threatening a lifetime of disciplined training. Suspension? Seriously? I’d smash their heads together and show them suspension…

  Calm down. There was no use getting angry. Try convincing them with logic.

  “What about Dan Pillar? He’s getting away.”

  “The target is no longer your concern. You’re off the case.”

  Chapter Eight

  ENID ESCORTED ME TO my rented room in the human dimension. Once she left, I flopped back onto my bed in sheer mental exhaustion. To be suspended over something that was out of my control…the unfairness of the situation made me punch the mattress, earning me a hiss from Sassy as she jumped off the bed.

  What was I thinking, trying to approach Grandma for magic? None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t gone to that damn ball.

  Never mind the ball. Why the heck did I bother fighting for a place in this blasted vengeance world, when its very governing body had had it out for me from day one? There was no winning with that crowd.

  Maybe I should just give up.

  As soon as that thought entered my head, I bounced right out of bed. Feeling sorry for myself and admitting defeat was not an option. I’d worked too hard for that. There had to be a way out of my current dilemma. I just had to figure it out.

  I quickly identified two goals I could set my sights on: rejoining the co-op program and figuring out who my attackers were in the Shadow World. I supposed some would say I wasn’t getting my priorities straight if I didn’t put investigating the threat to my personal safety above all else, but the idea of someone trying to hurt me, or even kill me, was so hard to wrap my head around that I needed something a little more tangible to start with.

  The first trio of monks had said they’d got the wrong girl, but the second group said nothing at all, and they were the ones who got right down to business. Was I the true target? Who knew?

  There was the third goal of bringing Dan to justice, but that was off the table until I could achieve goal number one. But I will get him, I vowed.

  I forced myself to scrub my face in the bathroom, then changed into a T-shirt and faded jeans. With one leg inside the jeans and the other out, I stumbled on a running shoe lying on its side and landed face first on the floor.

  I caught sight of the pocket-sized vengeance training manual at my eye level. During the unpacking, it must’ve fallen under the bed. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I’d only ever read the sections on practical vengeance procedures and skipped over the opening chapters on the university’s general policies.

  What if there was something there I could use?

  I grabbed the training manual and sat back on my bed. I flipped to the thick chapter called Co-operative Policies & Guidelines and started reading.

  Alright, let’s see. The selection into the co-op program was solely at the discretion of the Concord Council, blah blah blah, and so was the decision to suspend one from said program. There was a whole section on the suspension itself, from just cause to proper documentation of the procedures.

  I squinted at the very last sentence of the entire segment. There, in the smallest font possible, was a superscript that read 189.2.3A-V.

  I looked up the footnote at the back of the manual, then I left a message asking Enid to come and meet me at her convenience.

  After that, there was nothing to be done except head downstairs and start my day. Enid would come when she came. And when she did, I’d sense it no matter what room in the house I was in, as long she allowed me to do so.

  First order of business: breakfast. Then…well, I had no idea, but I wouldn’t be moping in my room anymore.

  I sniffed the air. Was that the smell of fresh-baked goods?

  I followed my nose to the common kitchen and found Rosemary humming over a tray of steaming buttery croissants with her back to me.

  “Hey,” I said awkwardly. I’d been here a few days now, but I’d pretty much been an absentee roommate, despite the verbal agreement that I’d be picking up some slack around the place.

  Rosemary had no idea I was busy doing vengeance, avoiding getting hurt, surviving a pointless ball, then called to trial, more often than not in another dimension. From my poor roommate’s perspective, I’d either stayed in my room for a long period, out for a long period, or come home looking rather worse for wear. On top of that, I’d been eating a lot of her food. Heck, I even brought a friend along to mooch on my very first night here. What would Rosemary think of me?

  I decided right there to pick up some responsibilities, starting this second. It was the just thing to do.

&nbs
p; Besides, I wanted to get to know her. What was the point of living amongst humans if I didn’t take the opportunity to understand them outside of vengeance? There had to be more to human-demon conversation than “ugh, get away from me, you monster!”

  Rosemary didn’t seem to have heard my greeting, so I repeated myself, much louder this time.

  She jumped and put a hand to her heart. “Oh my God, Megan! I didn’t hear you.”

  I repressed a wince over the use of the G word and shrugged, pretending that my supernatural ability to be as noiseless as a mouse was no big deal. “I have really quiet feet.”

  “I must be losing it.” Rosemary shook her head, put a croissant on a plate and handed it to me. I accepted with gratitude. I’d have to wait another few minutes before putting the hot baked goods in my mouth, but boy, I could enjoy the divine smell. “Last night I swear I heard someone break in, but turned out it was just my imagination.”

  “Oh?” I said nonchalantly. I had a feeling it wasn’t just her imagination, so I added a little push of compulsion into my single word.

  She obliged with more information. “After I got into bed, I heard a loud crash downstairs. I ran down. But there was no one here. And the windows all seemed fine. I guess I’ve gotten jumpy, living in this neighborhood. But to be fair, it’s gotten a lot better in the last little while. I should thank my guardian angel.”

  As if on cue, Sassy the feline shade roamed in and without ceremony sat down on the kitchen floor, put one leg over her shoulder, and started licking her fur. I narrowed my eyes. Sassy’s tummy was getting quite round. She’d been eating well. A soul devourer with an appetite for bad guys—the more violent the tastier—she was the perfect familiar to a vengeance demon.

  And the best invisible guardian for my fragile human roommate. I’d asked Sassy to look out for Rosemary the first night I moved in. Rosemary would never know about it, but I knew and that was enough.

  Rosemary seemed nice, and not the type who’d release incubus bush babies onto my bed.

  I realized Rosemary was looking at me expectantly. Oh right, I should be making a comment on her observation about the neighborhood crime rate. It wasn’t like the human could read my feelings on the subject. “Yeah, sure, a good neighborhood is good news.”

  I groaned inwardly. Did I just use the word “good” twice in one sentence? I blurted before Rosemary could bounce the reply ball back to my court, “Sorry about my sister yesterday. She isn’t very good in social settings.”

  Well, apparently I wasn’t, either.

  Was an apology too strong for “small talk”? This whole human-interaction thing was harder than I thought.

  Rosemary shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. She was just concerned about you.”

  “Thanks for understanding.” Whew.

  “No prob.”

  Another stretch of silence. Now what? Wait, humans liked talking about their daily endeavors. Those online articles were always advising men to ask about their wives’ days. The same trick should work for roommates, right? “So, Rosemary, what are you doing today?”

  Rosemary smiled. “You can just call me Rosie. I told you that already.”

  Yes, she did. And I wouldn’t. In the vengeance demon world, it was considered very rude to shorten another’s name. Even though Rosemary wasn’t a demon, a lifetime of habit died hard.

  I repeated the question minus the name. “So, what are you doing today?”

  “Getting some more baking done, then I’m off to the shelter.”

  “The shelter?” The only shelter on the human plane I knew of was the bus shelter.

  “The animal shelter,” Rosemary clarified.

  Was that like a bus shelter for animals? Did animals take a separate bus than their respective owners here? Maybe an animal shelter was where husbands went when they got sent to the doghouse? This was really confusing.

  I decided to draw attention away from my ignorance by firing another question. “What do you do there, at this animal shelter?”

  Rosemary’s eyes shone. She was generally a high-energy kind of girl, but this pushed her enthusiasm to a whole new level. She pointed at two cookie sheets on the side I hadn’t noticed before. On them was unbaked dough cut out in the shape of tiny dog bones. “You see, I run a side business making gourmet dog biscuits. I give back by offering free treats to our four-legged friends in the pound.”

  I thought of that sanctuary for golden lost-soul retrievers. “I’ll come with you,” I volunteered.

  “You sure?” Rosemary looked surprised but pleased.

  “Yeah.” At the very least, I could help her carry the cookies. That way I’d make up for the last few days. I had no idea what kind of regular contribution she needed around the house, but right here in front of me was an opportunity to help with a cause she was into. I could also get to know her along the way.

  Most important of all, by keeping busy, I wouldn’t get obsessed over the traumatic events of last night, and the things I planned on saying to Enid.

  “How many more batches are you doing?” I eyed the bag of flour on the table and the clean bowls she was putting out. I’d never played with cookie dough before. We could bond over food, a shared passion. Well, she was passionate about cooking it, and I was passionate about eating it, but surely it counted.

  “A couple more. They’re popular.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure. Finish the croissant first, though. Don’t let it get cold.”

  She didn’t have to worry about that. I wolfed it down in two seconds.

  ***

  “Er.” Rosemary leaned over the mixing bowl with a horrified look on her face. “What is that supposed to be?”

  “The dog biscuit mix.” I was assigned the task of combining the ingredients for a new batch while she rolled out the already prepared dough and cut it into little dog bone shapes.

  “I don’t think I’d be able to roll that out. Why is it so runny?” Rosemary frowned, pushing my slushy dog biscuit mix around with a spatula. The clumpy parts of flour and egg whites stayed together, and the watery parts ran through them like spring rain over a muddy country road.

  “I might’ve added some extra water,” I confessed.

  Rosemary’s eyes widened. “How much more?”

  “Two cups. Otherwise, the biscuits are going to be so hard.” I kept thinking about how every cookie I’d ever tasted was so moist, so there had to be more water. So I added more. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “They’re dog biscuits. They’re supposed to be hard.”

  “Oh.”

  Rosemary squinted. “And why is the mix so dark in color?”

  I brightened and puffed my chest up in pride. “I added chocolate.”

  It was a brilliant touch, if I must say so myself. I saw the dark chocolate chunks in the kitchen cupboard and just couldn’t resist. I hoped the dogs loved chocolate as much as I did.

  My roommate paled. “Chocolate is deadly to dogs. In fact, one of the dogs in the shelter had kidney failure after eating chocolate. This could’ve done him in.”

  Deadly? How was I supposed to know that? The golden retrievers in my world were used to having evil souls for breakfast. A little chocolate wouldn’t have been an issue at all.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

  “Megan, you’re supposed to perfect a recipe before altering it.” Rosemary looked like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Or both. “And you should be cracking the eggs, and using a mixer to avoid flavor bombs.”

  What was a mixer? The only mixer I knew of was the Soul-Mixer, the eternal ritual of mixing a soul with a new personality right before reincarnation, so that every lifetime had its own distinctive flavor. I doubted that was the flavor Rosemary was talking about, though. Damn—everything I’d learned about humans, I’d learned from academic books, TV, and movies, and none of those sources had gone into the logistics of real, everyday mortal lives.

  “Let me try again,” I
offered, flipping over the notes I’d taken from her earlier. “Wait, after you crack the eggs, where do the shells go?”

  Just then the doorbell rang, and Rosemary pushed herself off the counter she was leaning on just a little too fast. “Let me go and get that—” She began to turn, then froze. Like, actually motionless on the spot, her eyes staring, unseeing.

  “Enid.” I nodded as my mentor materialized near the breakfast bar. I knew what had happened. My mentor had made the doorbell ring to capture Rosemary’s attention, then temporary froze her to have a private conversation with me.

  “Megan.” Enid sighed. “Look, I know you’re upset, but I have to deal with the fallout from last night. I don’t have the time to—”

  “Did you know?” I asked her, pulling the training manual out of my pocket.

  “Know what?”

  “This.” I flipped to the page I’d bookmarked and read from it, “‘The suspension may be lifted if the student is able to obtain ten freelance markers.’”

  If Enid was surprised that I’d been able to dig up that obscure little rule, she didn’t show it. “Yes, I’m aware of that stipulation.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me? You know what this would mean to me.”

  “It’s not something we advertise.” Her tone hardened. “Performing freelance vengeance is hard and dangerous work. I didn’t want to give you false hope.”

  “Shouldn’t I decide whether or not it is a false hope?”

  “There are protocols—”

  “This trumps protocols.” I waved the training manual for emphasis.

  Enid tightened her jaws and said nothing. I got the feeling this was as close as she was going to get to admitting defeat, which meant the Council would be forced to accept the said freelance markers as academically legitimate.

  I wondered what battle I’d just won, and if it was more trouble than it was worth. For all I knew, freelance could be way out of my league, given my failure with Dan. But I had to try, right? Just about anything was better than inactivity.

  “Now, tell me how it works.” I grinned at my skeptical mentor, grabbed the recipe notebook from the counter, and proceeded to write down the procedure for freelance vengeance, right below the instructions on how to make the world’s best dog biscuits.