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

by Louisa Lo

  “Help me find Eldon. You started all this by enlisting my help to figure out where he was. An eye for an eye, a location for a location.”

  “Why can’t Serafina help you?”

  “She’s been blocked. She can’t do it. But somehow you knew to find him in the first place. How did you do it? You must know something.”

  Or knew someone who did. At the very least, he might have contacts that knew how to find the Greys, and by extension, Eldon. Considering I didn’t have a lot to go by, it was something.

  Gregory took a deep breath and I could practically see him mentally sifting through his options, his expression turning from annoyance, analytical, and finally to resignation, with even a dash of grudging admiration. Then his eyes flashed with renewed determination. “I’ll help you. But once the changeling prince is located, all bets are off.”

  “Alright.” I would cross that bridge when I got there. I understood where Gregory was coming from. Right now, with Eldon missing, nobody was getting any vengeance done anyway. He might as well help me. Besides, I was pretty much the only person in the world who had an intimate knowledge of what it meant to deal with the Greys.

  We were useful to each other. For now.

  “Should we shake on it?” Gregory asked, offering his hand, a hint of challenge in his eyes.

  A little giddy from my success at getting his co-operation, I didn’t stop to wonder what that look was all about. It was too late by the time my arm swung up and his hand clasped mine.

  Unlike the long, bony fingers typical of tall men, Gregory’s hands were large, his palm padded with warm flesh. My own hand felt freakishly small in his, and the tingling sensation I felt earlier again enveloped my body in one breathless moment.

  Then the moment passed, and I pulled my hand back with as much dignity as I could manage.

  I wasn’t happy with myself. But from the frown on Gregory’s face, neither was he.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Oracle

  GRANDMA RETURNED TO THE Council while Gregory took the rest of us to meet his contact. By “us” I meant me, Fir, and Serafina. I couldn’t leave Serafina behind because she had every right to be there. I couldn’t shake Fir because, well, he was Fir.

  I was expecting to go to a bar, a nightclub, or a gambling hall. Someplace clandestine I assumed mercenaries would operate from. Gregory ended up taking us to the most non-supernatural and non-menacing place that had ever existed on the human plane.

  A supermarket. The discounted, price-matching type, with bright fluorescent light bulbs and infinite boxes of mac and cheese on sale.

  “Seriously?” I shook my head at the carts of perfectly wholesome apples and oranges, so different from the seedy lairs I had pictured.

  “This way.” Gregory gestured as he led us to the deli section of the store. The unmanned counter displayed various sausages and hams. Next to the counter was an entrance draped with vertical plastic strips. A sign taped to one of the strips said “Employees only.”

  Gregory pushed aside the plastic and headed in. We followed closely.

  “Let me go in there on my own first.” Gregory stopped walking, holding back the plastic strip curtain.

  “No,” Fir, Serafina, and I answered as one voice. We were so coming in there with him. I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

  He sighed. “Alright. But be warned, the mercenary world is…different than what you might think.”

  What did he mean by different? Like, meeting in the meat freezer with butchered pigs all around us? Dumpster-diving at the back with hobo-looking informants? I had no idea what mercenaries actually looked and acted like save for Gregory, and I had a feeling he might not be the norm.

  After the barrier of the plastic curtain, we crossed a small tiled room to another door.

  This door opened onto a dark hallway, hypnotic siren music echoing in the background. The air was filled with the smoky clouds of overpowering incense, making my eyes water and my throat dry. At the end of the hallway, a scantily clad female fire demon with a whip in her hand waited. In contrast to the supermarket plastic, a jeweled and beaded curtain hung from the doorframe. She leaned casually against the doorframe, but there was nothing casual about her. She was dressed like a belly dancer, with an exposed navel, a glittered bra top, and a skirt embroidered with gold metal coins. Grey clusters of asbestos ash lined her shoulder bones, elbows, and kneecaps; those clusters could instantly expand to cover her entire body in a fire.

  So, this was a nightclub of sorts, after all? Couldn’t say I was expecting anything different, as per Gregory’s warning.

  “Pete. Long time no see,” the she-demon greeted Gregory, her voice sultry like the music in the background. She referred to him by his mercenary street name, the I’m-oh-so-harmless moniker “Pete.”

  Then the she-demon turned her eyes to the rest of us and asked, “Who are these people?”

  “Clients,” Gregory replied.

  “Partners,” I declared at the same time.

  The she-demon looked from Gregory to me, Serafina, and Fir, then back. She crossed her arms. “Partners, really? I thought you said you’d gone solo and that’s why you’ve been too busy to spend time with me. And two of these people are vengeance demons. They don’t even need your service. So what’s really going on?”

  “It’s complicated,” Gregory said.

  The she-demon pouted. The wounded look would have looked cute on a young girl, but on her it just seemed childish and manipulative. “It’s been months since you played with me. You promised.”

  Ewww. I didn’t even want to know how exactly Gregory had been playing with Miss Ample Bosom. Not that it was any of my business. But, let me say it again. Ewww.

  And no, I wasn’t jealous. Just grossed out. Really. I thought his taste would be a little less crass, and his sexual partners a little more discreet. Geez, I had learned all sorts of unattractive qualities about Gregory in the last twenty-four hours. He would have stayed a lot sexier in my mind if he’d never come around and collected his damn boon.

  “Just go get Mel, Candy. I’ll come back to see you soon. Right now I have business to attend to.” Gregory reached out and tugged a strand of hair behind the vixen’s ear, his voice affectionate.

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. The girl who dressed like a stripper was named Candy. How cliché was that?

  Gregory noticed my eye roll and seemed to realize he was forgetting something. He turned back to the she-demon. “Don’t bother keeping up with the illusion for these three, Candy. These aren’t paying customers for Mel.”

  “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Candy’s voice shifted higher on the register. No longer deep and sultry, but like a little girl’s. The image of the tall, sexy girl shimmered, leaving behind a witch no older than six or seven in her jammies. The whip in her hand turned into a My Little Pony figure with a long, pink polyester tail. The incense cleared from the air, the siren music stopped and the room was now lit up with regular standing lamps.

  I looked at Gregory questioningly.

  He coughed. “Mel. He, er, he believes in a professional environment for the line of work that he does.”

  All the details of the nightclub scene were nothing but an illusion, conjured by a little girl who was probably just starting elementary school. All those words that she said to Gregory, being put into the context of who she really was, fit perfectly now. She wasn’t a clingy flirt. She was just a child who wanted her friend to come play with her.

  A part of me wondered why Gregory felt the need to clarify the situation. Then I wondered why I would want him to care enough to do that.

  “You’re really good, you know?” Fir said admiringly to Candy. “I totally bought the whole thing. I didn’t even pick up a single stray vibe of witchcraft. You’re going to be spectacular when you grow up, young lady.”

  Candy gave Fir a brilliant smile, pleased by his compliment.

  Sure, she would be extraordinary when she grew u
p. But at this age, being this talented made her vulnerable. There were many magic-sucking creatures who would love to make a meal of her raw talent. What the heck was she doing in the shadowy world of mercenaries? Shouldn’t she be in one of those schools run by the witches’ unions, where she would be protected?

  Gregory leaned toward me and whispered, his eyes never leaving Candy, “Candy did go through the regular witchcraft education system for a while.”

  It unnerved me that he seemed to understand the questions whirling in my head. So I forged ahead. “What happened?”

  Candy, like any child, was ignoring the grown-ups and chattering to Fir about the various tricks she used to make her illusion so realistic. Fir, in turn, told her about the magical tracking app he was working on. Gregory leaned closer to me.

  “The system failed her. Monsters came to her home. Her mom grabbed her and her baby brother and ran. Mel took them in, and ever since then her mother does odd jobs around the office for him.”

  Candy stopped talking and winked at Gregory. “You don’t have to whisper. I know the story. I was there. I’ll go find Mel now. I’m filling in for a few hours. Ma’s off taking Teddy to the doctor. She thinks he’s got pixie flu. Pixie flu, what a baby!”

  And off Candy went, disappeared through the bead curtain.

  Gregory laughed. “That little brat!”

  When he turned toward me, the first genuine smile I’d possibly ever seen was on his face. It took years off him and made it feasible that he and I were approximate in age.

  Then, of course, I had to ruin it by asking him more questions.

  “You mentioned Mel wanted to present a professional image to the outside world. Just what kind of work does he do that would require the whole shebang of incense, siren music, and gypsy hip scarf?”

  Gregory’s face immediately became guarded. “Look, I want you to keep an open mind.”

  “Uh-oh, that’s what people say when they’re going to tell me stuff that would make me want to close it.”

  “Mel is an oracle.”

  An oracle? We were here to visit a two-bit fortune-teller? Like, we’re going to try finding Eldon with crystal balls and tarot cards and stuff? The last time Mom followed a seer’s advice, she ended up playing a role in bringing forth the Trick of the Century rather than preventing it. The paradox of prophecy? Yeah right. More like the seer was talking out of her ass.

  This was how Gregory planned to help me? Was this guy pulling my leg?

  “Megan,” Gregory warned, “I can’t have you disrespecting Mel.”

  “How could I? He’s the fortune telling dude called Mel. Can’t he at least make his name a bit more exotic, like Melchior or something?”

  “No. He never had to. They just called him The Oracle here.”

  I was about to laugh in his face when Fir gasped. “The Oracle. The Oracle? Megan, the guy is the stuff of legend. Very selective clientele. Super secretive.”

  I bit back a snotty comeback. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “You consider Candy part of your family,” Serafina stated. She was staring after the still swaying bead curtain, the only original decoration in the room that turned out not to be an illusion. She had been quiet through this mission thus far, so I paid attention when she did speak.

  Gregory nodded in confirmation. “We outcasts stick together. The family I choose is the only family I have.”

  I wasn’t sure what it would be like to create a family with members of your own choosing. I could bitch about the high-strung vengeance society all I liked, but when it came down to it I had a pretty nuclear immediate family, made up of a pair of loving parents and half-siblings that, while different from me in nature, were there for me in their own ways. What was it like to not have that support system at all?

  “And yet you’re using a fake name with them,” I pointed out. I was being a jerk, but I couldn’t afford to feel bad for Gregory, not after all the vengeance class action business he had dragged me into.

  “Pete is my real name. To me,” Gregory emphasized. “The only people using ‘Gregory’ are Lady Aequitas, you, my mother, and—”

  He stopped himself, but I already knew what he was going to say. The only other people who used the name he was born with were those who knew about his bastard origins, who would never accept him as Candy and his self-made family would.

  I couldn’t help but think that in our own ways, Gregory, Serafina, and I were all outcasts. I was a hybrid, Gregory was a bastard, and Serafina was a constant reminder of her family’s shame. Gregory might have become a friend, like Serafina, had we met under different circumstances and he wasn’t such a treacherous ass.

  “So how does it work?” I asked Gregory, eager to move away from my own train of thought. “Mel uses whatever voodoo he’s got to see stuff you can use, and then you give him a kickback?”

  “Something like that.” He, too, looked relieved that we were moving on to another topic.

  Candy came through the bead curtain before I could ask more questions about the business arrangement. She announced, “Mel’s ready for you now.”

  I snorted. “If he’s the Oracle with the capital ‘O’, he would’ve known that we were coming without someone having to run in to tell him.”

  Fir kicked at me.

  “Be nice.” He pulled me closer and whispered, “I think this guy is the real deal.”

  “Sure he is.”

  Fir gave an exasperating sigh. “Megan, you are a supernatural. You’re born of magic—two types of magic, actually. How could you be so closed-minded about fortune telling?”

  “I’m not. I have no problem with the supernatural stuff. I just don’t like scammers.” I couldn’t exactly tell him about what happened with the terrorist video that had gone viral a few months ago, now could I? Mom had set events in motion that brought forth the Trick of the Century, when she went about preventing it from happening as per an oracle’s instructions. So much for all that mumbo jumbo.

  “It worked well enough to get you to find Eldon in the alleyway that first time, didn’t it? Give this guy the benefit of the doubt.”

  I had nothing to say to that. Maybe Fir was right. Maybe there was something to future prediction. Maybe my wariness toward Gregory was coloring my perception of those associated with him.

  I followed Candy along with the others, pushing the bead curtains out of my way just a little too hard; the colored glass beads collided against each other in an annoying chorus like tiny mocking bells.

  Suddenly, it was as though we stepped into the make-believe land of television—straight onto the set of Doctor Who. Behind the bead curtain was the control room of the TARDIS—from the Matt Smith years, not Capaldi, thank you very much. Countless bright buttons and levers surrounded us, and there was even the severed head of a Cyberman lying on the ground. The TARDIS shook, the familiar sound of the TARDIS taking off through time and space echoed around us. The smell of burnt metal and old books filled the air, which to me was always the scent I mentally associated with the Doctor. I had no idea what other people thought the TARDIS smelled like, but right now, it was as if my imagination had become reality.

  “What the hell?” I looked around me. I would go out on a limb and say that my surrounding was an elaborate illusion. One that was disturbingly custom-made to speak to my inner geek. Yet no amount of rationalization could get my five senses, which were screaming at me that everything was real, to shut up.

  Fir took it all in, awestruck. And who could blame him? Illusions this detailed surely took hours to perfect. If Candy’s little handiwork was flawless, then this Mel guy was a god amongst magicians.

  And for a trickster, illusion was the bread and butter of the trade.

  “Like it?” A man in the image of Peter Capaldi materialized in front of us. Sigh. I would have preferred a Matt Smith illusion. I was obviously being toyed with.

  “I’m Mel. I had foreseen that you would doubt my gift, Miss Megan, and I understand that you’re qu
ite into human pop culture. I hope you’re pleased with what I have put together on your behalf.”

  I gritted my teeth. “You’re good. I’ll give you that.”

  He was either a really good wizard or a really good visionary. Either way, he might be able to help with my present dilemma.

  “Are you a mind reader as well?” I narrowed my eyes on the image Mel projected of himself. “Did you pull my dislike of Capaldi from my head?”

  “That one is too easy, dear. I don’t have to be a mind reader or a seer to bet Capaldi wouldn’t be a lot of people’s favorite.”

  He had a point there.

  Mel must enjoy tormenting me, because he kept his Capaldi appearance as he took Serafina’s hands into his. “Lady Serafina.”

  Serafina shook her head. “No one has called me that since I left Dualsing.”

  “That is true, and the title didn’t help you get an ounce of respect even when it was used, did it?” Mel chuckled. “But regardless, once a lady, always a lady.”

  I coughed, drawing Mel’s attention back on me. Though his touch on Serafina seemed more respectful than leering, I still felt better when he let go of her hand. She’d gone through enough as it was.

  “Now, about Eldon—” I began.

  “Prince Eldon,” Mel corrected.

  “Fine. About that. You knew.” I stated that as a fact, with no room for denial. “You must have known from the moment he landed on the human plane.”

  “Actually, I knew a little earlier than that, dear. The poor prince would have been laying in that alleyway for quite a long time if he had to wait for me to tell Pete, Pete to tell you, you to tell your friend, and you girls to get to him, don’t you think?”

  “How did you do it?” I asked curiously.

  “I have a gift predicting disturbances in the Cosmic Balance. Not the big waves, mind you, just minor ones. When this knowledge is used in an intelligent manner, it leads to satisfactory results.”

  “You mean when partnered with someone like Gregory, it leads to satisfactory profits.” I remembered what Gregory stood to gain with the class action vengeance and wondered what Mel’s cut was.