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

by Louisa Lo

  Gregory studied me briefly, no doubt assessing if I was going to spill the beans in front of everyone. So I forged ahead. “You heard the list of the Council’s allies. Well, sucks to be your clients right now.”

  I might needle the guy every chance I got, but I wasn’t about to divulge his origin secret to the group.

  The House of Sumpsi was just as powerful as the Advocatus, and when the situation with Pedro was made public the embarrassment would not be any less. Gregory could have used all this to his advantage, to rub it into his birth father’s face publicly, or even tried some good old-fashioned blackmailing. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t about to do that. If he did, his father would’ve come swooping in, and we wouldn’t have been able to leave with Pedro undetected. I suspect that Gregory chose to not press his advantage for precisely that reason.

  No, I wouldn’t expose his heritage. A jerky thing to do aside, it would also be stupid. After the public broadcast, the chance of his clients getting justice had just gotten way slimmer. His lessened reward for fulfilling his contract with them meant there was less incentive to play ball with me. It wouldn’t do to encroach on the remaining goodwill between us.

  Better to keep it light and comfortable with our normal jabs and insults.

  Gregory’s shoulders relaxed and he snorted. “Sucks to be my clients? Sucks to be those who keep me from serving them.”

  “You just try anything, mercenary,” I warned, “and I’ll see to it that every fringe character from here to the siren plane thinks you’re helping me because you’ve gone soft. Good luck getting any clients after that.”

  With my taunt, the last of the wariness dissipated from his eyes. I found myself feeling a sense of satisfaction at having managed to spare him some pain and embarrassment, beyond what business motivations would call for.

  And wondered, for the first time, if I was the one who’d gotten soft.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In Serafina’s Shoes: Ambition

  MY MIND WANDERED AS Megan and Gregory bantered back and forth. Being at odds with one another seemed like a strange kind of courtship, and if I had been the kind of friend that I’d vowed to be for Megan, I should’ve been paying more attention to it, but I couldn’t. The public broadcast had left me badly shaken.

  Regardless of what the Dualsingians had done to countless supernaturals through the years, regardless of what they’d done to me, that plane was home to me for over seventeen years. I’d made friends there. I’d loved and lost there.

  I couldn’t stand the thought of it burning up in flames.

  And Eldon…every second we couldn’t get to him was another second of pain for him. I put up a relatively calm appearance in front of my friends, but inside I wanted to kick and scream in frustration. Blinding panic threatened to overwhelm me during every waking moment. It helped when we were trying to convince Pedro to join us—at least I had something else to focus on. Now I had nothing but my own thoughts in my head as we walked away from the Sumpsi estate.

  Megan said something about having to call in the cavalry, and we were heading to an animal shelter on the human plane to regroup.

  We teleported to the shelter. Megan had taken me here to volunteer on a few occasions. Having only been introduced to the art and science of teleporting upon my return to the vengeance plane, I was adequate at it at best. It usually took me a moment to reorient myself after the experience, and upon my arrival on the human plane, the spinning in my head didn’t ease.

  Massaging my solar plexus, I opened my eyes.

  And found myself not having arrived at the shelter at all.

  I was back to the dark hospital room where Eldon was. Fake Sui-Ling was nowhere to be seen. Once again there were two Eldons. One, healthy and whole, was “floating” in midair next to me. The other one, with eyes shut tight and scorch marks all over his body, was on the slab.

  “You’re back.” There was unguarded joy on his face when he first saw me, then it turned into a scowl.

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “How? I blocked you.”

  “I don’t know.” Maybe the act of teleporting, which was really a thrust through the veil between planes, fueled by my worry for him, had managed to reopen my connection with Eldon without my conscious effort.

  “She’s going to be back soon. Please go,” he pleaded.

  I didn’t have a lot of time. I had no idea how long I could remain here. “Eldon, listen. These people who are hurting you—they just made an alliance with the vengeance Council.”

  “I know.” He curved his lips, but there was no humor there. “They were very eager to get the information out of me in hopes of honoring that deal. Hence the burn marks. They’re starting to get a little more creative with their torture.”

  “We’re coming for you,” I vowed.

  “I know you are. And then I’ll return home.”

  There was something in his tone that resembled eager anticipation, which he couldn’t hide from me in our current form. It made me sad and angry at the same time.

  “You do want power, don’t you?” I stated softly. “Not just because of what’s best for the Cosmic Balance, or what’s best for me. You really want power for itself.”

  “Lady Aequitas was right about that.” His eyes held no apology. “I want it. I’ve suffered for it. I’m going to suffer more still before this is over. I deserve a chance to sit on that throne.”

  “Even if it kills you?”

  “Yes, even if I end up crushed under it.”

  Even if it broke both our hearts.

  The words, unspoken, lay between us as we stared at each other, bound by our own version of right.

  “Finny.” His hand moved as if trying to reach toward me, then lowered. “Please leave me to my pain, and allow me the delusion that the more I suffer now, the more deserving I will be of the crown when I take it from my sister.”

  “I’ll go.” My voice was strangely emotionless, given how I was feeling inside.

  “Finny…”

  “Call me Serafina. I’m not Finny anymore.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  New Deal

  WE TELEPORTED INTO A storage room of the shelter Rosemary, my human roommate, volunteered at. Was it really just two days ago that I was living among non-magical folks and stealing chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen?

  It was already well into the evening, but the shelter was still open. Most of the volunteers had day jobs and could only help out at night anyway. And cats were nocturnal, so they were actually a lot less grumpy when taken out of the cage for a brush and groom in the dead of night.

  The storage room, being right next to the grooming area, was where they kept the blankets, kibbles, and cat litter. A good thing, too, because the first thing I saw out of teleporting was Serafina diving face down, unconscious, onto a pile of large dog towels. Thankfully, she landed in the basket for fresh laundry.

  I rushed to her and flipped her over so she could breathe. “Oh no, not again.”

  “Is she alright?” Pedro demanded anxiously. Then, “What do you mean, again?”

  “Another long story. She’s fine, I think.” Her breathing was even, just knocked out cold. These fainting spells of hers were happening far too often for my own comfort.

  She came to after five minutes or so, and I helped her up.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said in a quiet yet determined voice. “But we have a job to do. A war to prevent.”

  “That, we do.” I took a careful look at her. Unlike the tears from her last venture into astral projection, she was dry-eyed and exceptionally calm, which wasn’t necessarily an improvement. But if I wasn’t going to push Gregory about his heritage, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to push Serafina about her out-of-body experiences.

  To everyone in the room, I said, “Alright, listen up, people. We’re staying here with Rosemary while we sort a few things out. We want to be nice and help her out while we’re here.
So when we go out of this room, we all grab a groom kit and an animal and start brushing, okay?”

  “But I’m allergic to fur,” Fir whined.

  “Grab the short hair ones and start clipping some toe nails.” I snapped, “No excuses. Being on the human plane is our best chance to stay off the radar. It’s either the shelter or the hospice of my current target. Believe me, this is far less depressing.”

  Current target. In my head, I was still thinking of Sandra Hogan, the power tripping ex-ER nurse as my current target. Would she really still be mine to torment when this was all over? If the world ended up going to hell, did it even matter?

  I opened the door and there was Rosemary working on a German shepherd. I enchanted it so that in the perspective of the two humans in the room—Rosemary and her boyfriend, Jordan—our group were entering through the proper entrance to the grooming area, not piling out of the storage room like thieves in the night.

  “Hey, Rosemary,” I greeted her.

  “Megan!” Rosemary’s sweet round face split into a wide smile. “I was so happy to get your message. So, you mentioned this is like a group volunteer day for work?”

  Fir snorted. I ignored him.

  “Yeah. This is kinda like an impromptu volunteer blitz. For a few hours after work.” I nodded at her boyfriend. “Hey, Jordan.”

  “Hey, Megan. If you and your friends can come over here, I’ll get you set up.”

  We got our animals and tools, and I settled us at a corner table. I put a muting and illusion spell over the entire room, making sure Rosemary and Jordan couldn’t hear us or see anything their human eyes shouldn’t.

  Gregory had a Maltese on his lap. He said with wonder in his voice, “This dog is so well-behaved he’s practically a rag doll.”

  “Only with us vengeance demons. They have the instinct to know who their handlers are,” I explained.

  “Mine isn’t that well-behaved,” Fir complained. His Labrador retriever puppy was all over the place, yelping and licking his face, and just wouldn’t sit still.

  “Like I said, she knows who and what you are,” I said pointedly. “Guess which part of her you’re bringing out?”

  “Ha.” Fir stuck out his tongue. I would’ve told him to be more mature but then I reminded myself he was already way more mature than most in his race. More mature than Fir on a regular day, even. “And where’s your animal?”

  That was right, I didn’t get myself one.

  “I have to call in the cavalry.” I replied.

  “And who might that be?”

  “Esme.” My half-sister was smart and powerful, and had started to build a network of contacts in the upper crust of vengeance society that the likes of me or Gregory wouldn’t be able to access. I needed her in the tasks ahead.

  “I thought Esme is on holiday off plane with her mom somewhere and you aren’t able to contact her.” Serafina frowned.

  “Not through the normal channels, we can’t. But there’s another way.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I gathered my energy as if I was getting ready to teleport, but instead of sending my body to a specific destination across the planes, I projected my thoughts like a heat-seeking missile toward wherever Esme was.

  I need you, sis.

  As kin and two supernaturals who had passed life force to each other before, there was a strong bond between me and Esme. Tapping into that connection across an unknown number of planes wasn’t impossible. However, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  The pressure in my head built like it was trapped in a metal crown that was two sizes too small.

  I repeated the message. It was like shouting into the howling wind and having no idea if I was heard.

  Everything was a blur and the room was swimming. Voices came to me like they were underwater. I thought I could make out the alarming tones of Fir, Serafina, and Pedro. Then a pair of strong arms surrounded me. Instinctively I knew it was Gregory’s.

  Then to my horror and utter humiliation, before I could even process the idea of being in his arms, I started puking. As if I was having the worst case of food poisoning, with bad shell fish and spoiled milk.

  “Megan, stop it.” Gregory shook my shoulders urgently. “You’re hurting yourself.”

  I used everything I had left to blast out the message one last time, then I let go of the bond and slumped into Gregory’s arms.

  Then everything turned black.

  ***

  When I came to, all evidence of my vomiting was erased. I was still in Gregory’s arms, facing away from him. Good. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “What the hell was that, Megan?” Fir demanded. All of my friends were looking a little green. Rosemary and Jordan, thankfully, remained oblivious.

  “I got the message sent. I think.” I straightened and taking my cue, Gregory released me.

  “You scared us,” Serafina reproached.

  “It has a few side effects,” I admitted weakly. I would’ve gone for false bravado, but my queasy stomach was still settling down. “At least I didn’t have temporary loss of certain motor functions, like in some extreme cases.”

  “You’re not making us feel better.” Fir rolled his eyes.

  What I did should only be used in case of extreme emergencies. But I figured this mess is as extreme and urgent as they come.

  Though not knowing exactly where Esme had to come back from, I got a sense that it was really remote, probably without immediate teleporting access. It might be a few hours before she got here, so we settled back into the clip and brush motion.

  We worked in silence for a while, and I worked on interacting with Gregory without thinking about how I puked my guts out in his arms. Very sexy. Er…not that I wanted to be sexy in front of him, but it was just not a side of me I would want anybody to see.

  Detangling a very matted long hair Himalayan cat—how did this pure breed end up in the shelter, I wondered—was a two-person job, and Gregory helped hold the kitty down when he was done with his Maltese so I could work on its sensitive belly. As the fur began to fly, I couldn’t help but remember that the first time Gregory and I met was to fight over the vengeance claim for a mother dog and her puppies.

  We’d come full circle.

  After we were done with the Himalayan, I turned to Gregory. “There’s something you and I need to discuss. Alone. But do you mind if I have a chat with everybody else first?”

  Gregory nodded. “I’ll explore this place a bit.”

  He left the room.

  Serafina, Fir, and Pedro looked at me curiously.

  I asked Serafina, “Once the passage to Dualsing is opened, what’s the longest you can keep it that way?”

  Serafina bit her lower lip. “With the help of Pedro, and if we’re really lucky, I could hold it for maybe an hour. But why would we want to do that? I thought we were just going to send Eldon back?”

  “Because there’s one factor we haven’t considered yet—all the other supernatural children currently trapped in Dualsing, including Pedro’s counterpart. If the Greys and the Council manage to crack Eldon before we get to him, then they would gain access to Dualsing. It’s going to be an all-out war on that plane, and these kids will be smack in the middle of it. For all we know, the changelings are going to use them as bargaining chips.”

  Serafina and Pedro looked at me, dawning horror on their faces. Never mind Pedro trying to avoid being returned home—his counterpart might be held back from the switch anyway.

  “We have to get them out of there before all hell breaks loose, and we should do it at the same time we get Eldon home.” It was time to think strategically. I was an Aequitas. I was from a family that, in the medieval days, had been known for its military genius. Time to live up to the family name, whether the rest of the family considered me one of them or not. “Serafina, do you know anyone in Dualsing who would help us?”

  “There were only two who have ever been nice to me other than Eldon. Alina th
e pixie and Trust the dragon. Alina is too young and fragile, and Trust is captured from what Eldon told me.”

  “Well, somebody recently told me not to underestimate the little guys.” I glanced at the door where Gregory disappeared through, remembering his defense of the “pencil pushers.” “Can Alina help us find those children fast?”

  “I think so. She used to assist me in keeping track of the changeling children. Maybe she could use the same skill to locate their counterparts on Dualsing.”

  “Alright. Sounds like a plan then,” I said, getting up from the table.

  “So what is it that you want to speak to Gregory about?” Fir’s eyes gleamed with speculation. “Or is that code for making out? I saw you and him looking funny back there by the iron gate.”

  I mentally winced, feeling like a bug under a telescope. Whatever this thing I might be experiencing with Gregory—root cause ranging from undiagnosed brain damage to overactive imagination induced by stress—I did not need to have it happening with my nosy brother poking around. He would make something out of nothing and run with it.

  I rolled my eyes. “If you must know, I’m about to give him a new deal, an offer he can’t refuse.”

  Once the words were out of my mouth I kicked myself for how corny it sounded. The Godfather reference sounded totally cool in my head.

  Just goes to show how rattled I was by Fir’s shrewd observation.

  ***

  Gregory was at the infirmary of the shelter, where the more injured new arrivals recuperated after receiving medical attention.

  I had a feeling he would be drawn to the wounded and damaged. That was one thing we had in common—beside both being outcasts.

  He was standing by a small incubator hosting a ferret with a bandaged paw. The animal kept trying to bite his bandage, but then Gregory leaned closer and suddenly it relaxed and stopped fidgeting.

  “Hey,” I greeted.

  He tensed and turned away from the ferret, as if he hated being caught at a moment of tenderness. I thought about not pushing it, then I decided I’d done that once too often recently.