by Louisa Lo
Hunkering down was my best course of action right now.
But as I reached for the doorknob, three new voices chimed in the ongoing argument between Eldratha, Sui-Ling, and the goblins. “Stop it, all of you. We have the first right! Where’s Little Meg, we want to talk to her right away.”
The voices sounded old and young at the same time, like the hoarseness of old ladies had overlapped the ringing laughter of teenage girls.
Without turning, I knew exactly who had just arrived. The Three Fates.
I bounced away from the front door quickly, hoping that in the few seconds of the newcomers gawking at the surrounding, and everybody else gawking at them, no one caught sight of me trying to escape into the house. If the legend about elf royalties’ power to command anything organic was true, then Eldratha could get to me before I closed the door and figured out how to override Miss Neringa’s all access pass. The porch and the door were both, after all, made of wood. Heck, she could bend the wood and trap me in a makeshift prison while getting Eldon, if her plan of shrubs and tree roots involving the goblins was anything to go by.
Stealth was of the essence.
I waved in acknowledgement to the Three Fates, who used to call me something a lot nastier than Little Meg when I attended my grandma’s ball as a child. I guessed they were trying to be nice in order to get me to hand over Eldon. Fat chance.
The Three Fates were retired auditors of regulated destinies. Nobody ever used the word “disgraced” in association with them, but let’s just say that their retirement wasn’t entirely voluntary. The trio tried to look as powerful and intimidating as little old ladies carefully folding their return bus passes into their handbags could. No magically constructed tents or ground-opening portal for these three girls—they were pensioners on a budget.
I must be getting jaded, for I found myself being less surprised about even more people showing up than the fact that these three old ladies had enough technical know-how to read Miss Neringa’s tweets to come here.
To my relief, Sui-Ling blocked the Three Fates’ way as they tried to reach me, effectively focusing their attention on her and away from me. “Greetings, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. It’s an honor.”
Anyone who’d ever picked up a history book in the supernatural world would know the Three Fates’ names, but I got a feeling that Sui-Ling’s education at the ancient order would’ve covered a detailed account of their careers.
“Don’t you greetings us, young lady.” Clotho wagged her finger at Sui-Ling. “We meant what we said. We own the ultimate first right of vengeance.”
“Get in line, you mizerable hags!” Greexet hissed.
Hades help me. Soon there would be as many claims to the first right as there would be different versions of Spiderman.
I had to go. Like, ten minutes ago. But I was good and well stuck with these supernaturals, armed with either ancient blood, advanced magical skills, or sheer blunt force.
“What makes you think you have the first right?” Eldratha rearranged the full skirts of her beautiful dress as she gave the Three Fates’ worn white robes and mall-bought shoes a once over. She didn’t seem very impressed.
“Why, we’re the changelings’ most wounded victims, and the first,” Lachesis explained. “Whenever they switch a baby, they don’t just steal his or her childhood. They change that child’s destiny. Every thread that we planned to weave on the tapestry that is the child’s life, everything that is going to make that child the person they are meant to be, is completely destroyed. From political allies that should have been made in prep school, to the proper breeding that could only come from being raised in a world of privilege, down to their lifelong attitude toward power, money, and relationships, everything is rewritten.”
“It was a huge blow to our credibility.” Atropos’s chin quivered, her gaze lost in memory. “People began to question the value of having regulated destinies. Eventually everyone started buying into that ‘you could be whatever you want to be’ nonsense. The changelings robbed us of our career, our reputation, and our rightful place in the Cosmic Balance. What do you have that could compare to that?”
Eldratha and Greexet simply glared at the Three Fates.
I could see where they were coming from, though. The changelings had robbed them of their self-identity just like they did with that of the children they switched.
Self-identity. That was it—my ticket outta here.
The tricksters and vengeance demons both had their versions of the illusion spells, though one camouflaged for the sake of performing trickery, the other for the purpose of administrating vengeance.
What if I, the hybrid of trickster and vengeance demon, created an illusion channeling both kinds of magic?
Usually, I either do a vengeance spell, or a trickster spell. The only time I ever tapped into both sides at the same time was a few months ago, when I had to fix a little damage called the-end-of-life-as-we-knew-it.
Despite all the progress I’d made in getting my two natures to meld with one another, to say that I was a little nervous about doing an experimental hybrid spell under pressure was an understatement.
I began building up my magic—both sides of it—and my pearl pendant grew bright in response. Concentrating, I created an extremely area-specific illusion, blocking just that light, a dead giveaway that I was gearing up my power.
“Thank you for sharing your story, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. As I’ve already told Eldratha and Greexet, your claim is noted and proper assessment will be performed,” Sui-Ling droned on, carefully explaining the claim process as she understood it. She might not be from the Council, but with the absence of Grandma she had taken over the role of the bureaucrat—with the goal of advocating for her own group’s interest, of course.
Any impression of this being a fair and straightforward process was bullshit. It was going to be one big drawn-out mess, with many levels of appeal and counter-appeal.
With my rising anger over the changelings’ wrongdoings, my inner vengeance demon struggled for dominance. To counter it, I envisioned the tricksters playing a joke on the changelings, having them accidently do a switch back, and didn’t find out the children they thought they kidnapped were really their own kids until eighteen years later.
It worked, and my power continued to grow, sourced equally by my two natures in a perilous balance.
Meanwhile, the Three Fates took a long, appraising look around them, Sui-Ling’s words deaf on their ears. They didn’t have a single weapon in hand, yet they looked as confident as if they were carrying an Unforgeable Sword of their own.
Clotho’s hands kneaded and pulled at something invisible. “Oh, sisters, suppose I have a closer look at their threads of life?”
“Yes.” Lachesis narrowed her eyes. “I could do a proper measurement and see if any of their lives are unnecessarily long.”
“Then I can cut the threads.” Atropos made a scissoring motion with her fingers. “Or tie them into endless loops, making their lives a pointless pit of disappointments.”
Greexet made a signal to his clansmen, and they crowded around. “Shut up, you crusty old bitches! I got ze most men here. Zhat changeling’s mine. So stepah aside. And zhat same goes wis you two.”
He pointed at Sui-Ling and Eldratha. Sui-Ling responded by having her wings burst out of her back, and the elf queen drew a spike-lined whip from her belt. When the whip hit the ground, the air filled with the sizzling smell of burnt grass.
This was my moment.
I cast an illusion spell across the entire lawn, inclusive of every supernatural within the three house radius. The image of a fake Megan remained on my spot as I moved toward the door for like, the millionth time, but this time unseen.
I had my hand on the front door knob, congratulating myself over the success of the spell,
when yet another new voice rang out across the lawn. Well, new for this occasion anyway. I recognized that voice, and he damn well didn’t come here bec
ause he was tipped off by Miss Neringa. “Sorry to inform you, ladies and gentlemen, but collectively my clients have the first right that trumps all rights.”
The voice was Gregory’s.
Chapter Seven
Class Action Vengeance
THERE COMES A TIME in every girl’s life when she kicks herself for not kicking a certain guy in the nuts when she had the chance.
This was that moment for me.
For the occasion, Gregory had dressed in a formal suit, hidden his vengeance wings, and carried a briefcase. He even put on a pair of reading glasses. He looked perfectly civilized, but I knew the bastard for the thug-for-hire that he was.
I understood from the start that his reasons for finding Eldon had to be darker than what he claimed, but this? He used me. He used me to drag my friend and grandma into this mess. And for what? So he could play lawyer and make a big fat profit?
My rage over seeing him dissolved my illusion, which wasn’t very stable to begin with, being the experimental spell that it was. I barely made it back to where Fake Megan was before the illusion officially bit the dust.
I stalked toward Gregory. The group of goblins, who were psyching each other up for a fight just moments ago, jumped out of my way. Smart of them. I was in a murderous mood and it wouldn’t be a good idea to stand in my way right now.
“Interesting seeing you here, mercenary.” Sui-Ling tossed her last word at Gregory like it was an insult, giving me the satisfaction to see that she was no fan of his, either. It was no surprise that someone from an old-school ancient order would look down on mercenaries, as it was considered extremely shameful for vengeance demons to use the gift they were born with for profit.
“Sui-Ling.” Gregory nodded. “Long time.”
“Not long enough,” she muttered. I couldn’t help but wonder how they came to cross paths before.
With a flourish, Gregory pulled out multiple copies of a legal-looking document from his briefcase; he then passed them around as if my parents’ lawn was some damn boardroom.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing here?” I demanded as he pushed a stack of papers toward me. Not expecting that movement, my arm reached out automatically to block his, my reflexes a gift from my combat training at Demon U.
Upon impact, Gregory drew back his arm right away. The papers fell but didn’t scatter on the ground, due to the staple holding them together.
Though my skin had only made contact with his for less than a second, a tingling sensation traveled from my arm to the rest of my body, and I trembled involuntarily. It was as if my body remembered that time when Gregory gave me a piggy-back ride in order to gain safe passage to the bootlegged plane. The hardness of his muscles, the heat radiating from his torso…
Dammit. My emotions, jumbled by my failed hybrid spell, must’ve somehow magnified the effect of that accidental touch, which only got me madder. I needed to focus on my murderous rage toward him, not my attraction to him.
To buy myself a moment to compose myself, I scooped up the fallen paper. I even made a great show of shaking the dirt off it.
“Everyone, please turn to Exhibit A at the back.” Gregory acted all business-like, though his gaze skirted around me. Was it because of our touch, or my questioning about his purpose here?
It has to be the latter, I told myself.
Seeing that everyone else, including Sui-Ling, seemed to be taking him seriously, however begrudgingly, I flipped the offending document to the back, not caring how I practically ripped its staple off.
By the yellowed street lamplight, I read.
Exhibit A turned out to be a three-page list of supernatural species big and small: trolls, dwarf giants, lesser faes, brownies, pixies, leprechauns, and even boogeymen, and the signatures of their leaders. These middle and lower class creatures weren’t exactly on the top of the totem pole in the Cosmic Balance. In fact, if there was a common theme on the list, it was that every single name on it was considered too weak, too odd, or too intellectually challenged for polite vengeance society.
“My consulting firm, Clear Vengeance, is representing these clients.” Gregory’s voice rang clear across the lawn as everyone stared at the document, dumbfounded. “I can prove to you that each of my clients has ancestors who were wronged by the changelings. Some of them even have children held at the changeling plane as we speak.”
If or when the changelings got punished, there was no guarantee that the little guys would get their fair share of healing relief. These fringe creatures that Gregory represented would totally get overlooked in the sea of bureaucracy and prejudice. I had to admit, it was smart of them to join forces together. Too bad in the process they had allowed themselves to be manipulated by Gregory. He stood to gain quite a bit of profit in this endeavor.
“So you have the strength in numbers”—Eldratha waved her hand dismissively—“but by definition, the first right of vengeance is a test based on chronological order. A combination of many wrongs done on later dates cannot trump one single wrong from an earlier date.”
“And you assume that would be yours.” Gregory looked like the Cheshire cat. I could tell that he was glad that the elf queen brought up the issue of timing priority, because he already had an answer for it. If I weren’t so mad at him I would be just a little impressed by his display of utter cunningness. “My clients have both the strength in numbers and the earlier dates. What you have to understand is how a criminal evolves.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you know a lot about that,” I muttered.
Gregory ignored me. “Every criminal mastermind started out with minor crimes, and many serial killers practiced on small animals before they moved on to bigger targets. The changelings were the same. At the beginning of time, they began their questionable tradition by switching much weaker supernaturals with their own. Those with less valuable skills to impart. Those with less magic to guard their babies. And yes, those too insignificant to wield weapons, to enjoy beauty treatments, or to have regulated destinies. It was only after they became successful with these weaker supernaturals that they moved onto more and more powerful targets. Therefore, without a doubt, the first right of vengeance belongs to my clients. Our claim is indisputable.”
Even I had to admit he had a point. There was a good reason why Santa Claus’s annual naughty list fetched such a high price in the vengeance world—not every kid on that list ended up being big-time criminals, but almost all big-time criminals began their career by being on that list.
I knew that Gregory would always be gunning for his own profit, and it wasn’t like we had any sort of relationship that would give me any right to his loyalty whatsoever. Sure, I found him hot, but it wasn’t like we even went on a single date. Not that he’d asked, and not that I’d say yes. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t. Maybe.
But at the end of the day, our entire interaction could be summed up to him coming to my aid once, wherein I promised him a boon in return that he came back months later to cash in. That was pretty much it. So I totally didn’t understand this sense of betrayal cutting through me. Like I was deeply disappointed in him or something. I told myself it was simply because I was ashamed I didn’t do more homework on the guy before getting Serafina and the rest of my family involved in this mess. Ashamed and horrified. Yeah, I was going to stick with that.
Sui-Ling launched into her trademark response de jour, “As I already told those in presence before your arrival, Gregory, all these claims would have to be fully investigated—”
“Do my clients’ claims not have the Ring of Vengeance to them?” Gregory cut straight to the point.
The Ring of Vengeance was like the ring of truth humans talked about—this certainty of rightness of someone’s claim that a vengeance demon could sense. It was an instinct we were born with, but had to learn to trust over time.
Something in Sui-Ling’s hard eyes shifted. She felt the Ring. And damn him to hell, I felt it, too. His clients owned this vengeance fair and square.
>
From the disgusted looks on the faces of Eldratha, Greexet, and the Three Fates, they knew defeat when they saw it as well.
“Look,” Sui-Ling sounded both irritated and impressed, “I get it. Even I have to admit your claim is solid. But there’s still a procedure that has to be followed. It’s best if we wait for the Council’s verdict—”
Gregory snorted. “Would your plan be to wait, if you’d managed to sneak off with the changeling without the Council’s knowledge?”
Sui-Ling glared at him, then she thought of something and narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “Oh, Gregory, what will your dear old dad say about all this?”
Gregory’s lips thinned. “He has no say in this.”
“You’re going to embarrass him in front of his peers.”
“This is business.” Gregory tried to pretend that the mention of his father didn’t bother him, but one muscle kept jumping on the right side of his jaw.
“Bastard,” Sui-Ling hissed. I got the feeling she meant it more than the common curse word. She knew he was illegitimately born. In this aspect, the respectable vengeance society was forever stuck in the fifties—the only thing more cringeworthy than being born out of wedlock would be to go rogue, which Gregory had also done.
Despite my anger at him, a part of my heart softened a little wondering about the circumstance that had forced the younger Gregory to choose the path of mercenary.
I indulged that soft fuzzy feeling for half a second, before squishing it like a bug.
The goblin chief exchanged glances with his underlings. Suddenly he gave out a battle cry. Weapons raised, they all charged toward Gregory, clearly hoping to use their sheer strength of numbers to bag the changeling while they still had a chance.
Without thinking, I reacted. I flanked Gregory while Sui-Ling did the same on the other side. In such close quarters, using magic had too great a risk of backfiring, so hand-to-hand combat was employed instead. Together, Gregory, Sui-Ling, and I blocked weapon after weapon. Just how many knives did one single goblin carry anyway? Sui-Ling and I glanced at each other, both unbelieving that we were defending Gregory. But dammit, it was the right thing to do. Even the Three Fates tried to help. They had no chance to examine the life thread of the individual goblin within the herd that was rushing toward us, but they helped by trying to trip them or hit them with their handbags.