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

by Louisa Lo

  The succubi liked to feed on energy, huh? It was time for a little binge eating.

  The combined power hit them like a sledge hammer, and the succubus queens cried out and withered on the floor.

  Abruptly, all their movement halted, and they collapsed entirely, like puppets with their strings pulled out.

  For a moment none of us moved, afraid that it was just a ruse to get our guards down. But after a few minutes, we approached the queens tentatively.

  Wisps of cobweb began to cover their bodies. Their eyes were closed, faces peaceful as if in a slumber.

  Like sleeping beauties, if sleeping beauties were blue-skinned parasites.

  Before our eyes the cobwebs formed two hard-shell cocoons and we couldn’t see their faces anymore.

  “Are they dead?” Fir asked.

  Gregory touched one of the cocoons with the toe of his shoe lightly, and it wobbled like a tipped-over, supersized Russian doll.

  “No.” There was regret in his voice. “Looks like the energy overdose pushed them into some kind of hibernation.”

  “Fitting, given the snakes they are.” I watched a nature documentary once. There was this ginormous snake that swallowed an entire calf and then just lay there and couldn’t move for weeks. Talk about the ultimate post-food coma.

  Hopefully the succubus queens stayed short-circuited for a long time.

  With a bang to the door, the Off-Blacks rushed in.

  “What the heck is going on?” they exclaimed. “There was a barrier around the attic and we couldn’t break through.”

  Fir proceeded to tell them what happened, concluding with, “Dudes, you gotta find less treacherous girlfriends.”

  “You saw how hot they were,” Bonaventure the Third protested. “How would I know they were reporting the going-ons to a bunch of murderous hags?”

  A debate sparked about what to do with the pair of dormant succubi. Fir and the Off-Blacks gleefully argued for merciless torment. Pedro and Esme chimed in, calling for civilized treatment to our prisoners. Gregory supported Fir and the Off-Blacks, but believed the goal of torture should be to obtain sellable information. Given the occupational hazard, as Hilda had called it, of their feeding habit, Gregory might be onto something there.

  Ever the businessman.

  As a group we decided to leave the decision until after we dealt with more pressing issues. The cocoons were miniaturized and placed into Gregory’s secret compartment along with his mobile living room.

  In a way I was glad of the debate because it gave Serafina the time she needed to compose herself. When she was ready, she told us what she’d experienced. What Trust and Eldon had told her.

  Despite Eldon’s instructions, there was no way we would just let him rot with the Greys. There might just be enough of us to handle the new complications.

  The good guys gotta try, right?

  ***

  “So, let me get this straight. Again.” Bonaventure the Third paced back and forth across the attic floor. “Your original plan was to open the passage to Dualsing and return the changeling prince. Then the mission was extended to rescuing the kidnapped kids as well—which we, the Off-Blacks, will see no profits for. And now, we’re not returning the prince, but we’re still rescuing the kids, and on top of that we’re going to sucker-block the Council’s half-formed passage from the other side. And oh, we’ll try to save the prince anyway, even though he ain’t returning home ever again. Did I get that right?”

  I winced. “Yeah, it sounds a little finicky when you put it that way.”

  “Thought so.”

  I remembered the conversation I had with Mel the Oracle not so long ago.

  “And just how am I supposed to boost Eldon’s tolerance?”

  “You’ll know when the time comes. I can assure you, you can do it.”

  When what time came? Turned out Eldon wouldn’t be needing any boosting, because he wasn’t going back to Dualsing, after all.

  Was it because Mel wasn’t that all knowing, or that what he saw was only choices and possibilities, but not absolutes?

  Who knew?

  As to what Serafina said of Trust’s prophecy? Well, that was a whole lot of nothing. So it sounded like Eldon’s sister and her people would survive at the end of the day, but that didn’t mean the Council’s campaign wouldn’t end badly for the very people who launched it. In fact, in manga, there were always tons of fists flying madly as the target of a conflict clawed his or her way out of the battle dust. I wouldn’t be surprised if that would be what happened with Eldon’s sister, the flying fists being the Council beating itself.

  ***

  With the Bureaucracy compromised, we needed a new base of operations. Somewhere unexpected, safe, and able to hide Pedro’s increasingly strong changeling signature.

  Before changeling children were placed with their hosts, their bodies were programmed to emit energy signatures that mimicked whichever race they were assigned to. The magic was set on an unconscious level, but now that Pedro was aware of who he really was, that safeguard was deteriorating. It was as if his body figured out there was no need to exert the effort to hide anymore. Since we met him, his energy signature had become more fragmented—with the top note of vengeance demon and the undercurrent of changeling. Anyone who took the time to examine it would discover that the upper layer was merely an illusion.

  So our new digs had to be able to conceal that secret, on top of being so off the radar that we could perform the passage-opening ritual in peace. I ran out of ideas, but Fir said he had the perfect place. So we packed up everything, including the new herbs that the Off-Blacks prepared, and followed him.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” My jaw sagged as we squeezed ourselves out of my parents’ birdbath. We stepped into the late morning sun, the neighborhood waking up around us. With all that had happened, we were behind schedule.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Neringa is asleep. She’s still recovering from the excitement of all the happenings, according to her tweets. Also, I have a pre-built concealment from the birdbath right into the house. How do you think I’ve been able to go to so many drinking parties and never get caught?”

  I waited until we all filed down to the basement, adding extra precautions to the house until it felt like we were wrapped under a zillion layers of protection, before rounding on my half-brother. “Why are we coming back here? This is the dumbest idea ever. Have you forgotten there was a freaking mob at our doorstep less than forty-eight hours ago? Lynch. Mob. At. Our. Doorstep.”

  Fir shrugged. “Precisely. They’ve already been here. It's the last place they'll look now.”

  “But once they start looking, really looking, even the strongest protection won’t prevent them from smelling Pedro.”

  “Yeah, they’ll smell him and assume that it’s the lingering changeling scent from Eldon. Think, Meg, it’s so dumb, it’s perfect.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.” I thought there must be something depressingly symbolic about going back to mommy and daddy’s basement. Again. But desperate times and all.

  ***

  Everyone got settled into one seat or another in the messy basement. It was kinda like musical chairs with an assortment of mismatched furniture—love seats, futons, and even video game chairs that looked like driver seats ripped out of a car. Gregory stole a sofa seat from Fir, earning him a dirty glare, and gestured to Pedro to sit on it. He patted Pedro on the back before hunting for a seat of his own. Pedro gave Gregory a grateful smile.

  They had developed quite a rapport, just like two people who were new-found cousins would, despite the fact that Gregory was illegitimate and Pedro was a fake vengeance demon.

  I headed toward Pedro with Serafina mirroring my action from the other side of the room. We both noticed how deeply troubled the kid looked when he thought no one was looking, and had the same notion to comfort him.

  “You’re doing okay?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He avoided m
y eyes.

  “Don’t worry. Your part is easy breezy. Just help us open the passage to Dualsing and wait around until we come back. Then afterward we intend to keep our promise about helping you stay on the vengeance plane.”

  “No, it’s not that.” Pedro hesitated. Then he seemed to decide on something. “Listen, can I come along?”

  “What?” I nearly shouted. Gregory gave me a questioning look and I pulled Pedro closer.

  “What the heck are you talking about?” I hissed. “You know what’s waiting for us there? I don’t even know what’s waiting for us there.”

  “I can help,” Pedro insisted. “I’m sure of it. My body is designed to mask my own energy signature. I think I could extend that to help make everyone else’s untraceable.”

  “But, why? Why would you want to go there?” I puzzled. “You told me you want no part of that plane.”

  “Look”—Pedro’s eyes were pleading—“a part of me really, really wants to see Dualsing. Just once. It’s where I was born, and I’ll never get another chance ever again. Please.”

  Now that he put it that way…

  Serafina and I glanced at each other. Hades knew we understood the need to learn about one’s origin. The poor kid was neck deep in a conflict that just days ago he wouldn’t even have known he had to choose a side for. How could I blame him for being curious?

  “Alright, but you have to promise you’ll stick close to the group.” I forced him to meet my eyes, and this time, he did.

  “I will.”

  ***

  “Alright.” I got everyone’s attention. “We’re going to divide ourselves into two groups. Esme, Fir, the Off-Blacks and me, is one. Our mission is to infiltrate the Council headquarters and rescue Eldon.”

  “We call the place The Tree. It’s on the vengeance plane. I can get us in.” Esme sat up straighter. “They’re holding the prince somewhere in there. Wherever he is, that’s where they’ll be trying to get the passage fully opened.”

  With a name like The Tree, an image of some kind of sky-reaching elven dwelling came to mind. But it was actually underground, so the proper name should really have been the Root. It was just sheer dumb luck that the part-time job Esme took to pay for her masters and recent vacation was located at the Tree. It wasn’t entirely surprising, given her excellent vengeance track record, high grade point average, and respectable family name. The job was administrative rather than fieldwork, but it was a stepping stone to take on a more political role in vengeance society.

  Speaking of which.

  “You sure you want to get us in?” I asked Esme softly, trying to convey the risk I knew she was taking.

  “Yes,” she said just as softly, meeting my eyes.

  I nodded. It was her choice.

  “The second group,” I coughed and continued, “is made up of Gregory, Serafina, and Pedro. Their job is to go into Dualsing, gather the kidnapped children, and get them out of there. Then Serafina will neutralize the half-formed passage on that end.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work with too few people involved,” Fir muttered, doing the math. “You have what, six people on team one and three people on team two? Why aren’t there more people on the second team?”

  “Two reasons. One, team one must be in position to take Eldon by the time Serafina is ready to close out the passage. The minute she starts they’re going to swarm around Eldon to find out what’s happening. But if we take Eldon too soon then they’ll know something’s wrong anyway. So timing is crucial. Hence more man-power to make sure it happens according to plan. Besides, it’s not just about the rescue, we’re also taking away the Council and the Greys’ only means to form another new passage.”

  “What’s the second reason?” Bonaventure the Third demanded. He and his two sidekicks seemed none too happy that they weren’t assigned to the Dualsing trip, and in a way I could understand. Like the tricksters, the Off-Blacks had something in common with the changelings—deceit and the art of illusion. It was natural they would want to check out Dualsing, which was exactly the reason why it wasn’t a good idea.

  “It’s a stealth mission,” I emphasized. “It works better in smaller numbers. Serafina has lived there most of her life. Pedro is a changeling and can give off the right magical vibe while masking the wrong ones. And thanks to his occupation, Gregory has more sneakiness than even a trickster. I don’t need more people drawing unnecessary attention to the group.”

  “How do we know when Serafina begins reversing the passage on that side, without us being able to communicate?” Esme asked.

  “You’ll feel it,” Serafina said quietly. “The vibration being imposed on Dualsing is going to start bouncing right back to the vengeance plane.”

  I glanced at Serafina’s face. I expected to see worry and nervousness there, but instead, there was a calm determination radiating from her. It must be killing her that her skills were required at the Dualsing leg of the mission, and she couldn’t be on the team that was coming for Eldon. But there was also an unmistakable glow about her that even the present situation couldn’t dim. It was the glow of someone in love.

  And the glow of someone who had finally allowed herself the luxury of truly loving back.

  ***

  “Sneakiness.” Gregory came to me after the meeting and repeated my earlier words. “I’m chosen for Dualsing because I have more sneakiness.”

  Everyone was busy doing their own preparation and didn’t pay us any heed. We were more or less alone.

  “Sneakiness. Resourcefulness. Whatever. Just fill in the blank to whichever description you like more.” I shrugged. I wasn’t about to admit that there were more attractive qualities I found in him, like his dogged determination to make a life on his own terms, or his willingness to abide by the mercenary code even if it went against his bottom line.

  “You’re aware you’re sending me on a mission with no one to keep me in check except a gentle girl and a young kid. Are you sure I can be trusted?” he murmured.

  “Are you sure Serafina is a gentle girl?” I raised my eyebrow at him. “She seems to be on a tear.”

  “Nevertheless, she’s new to this game. She’s no match for me in, um, sneakiness. Neither is Pedro.”

  It was true. By allowing him to retrieve those children and return them to their families as I’d promised him, I was trusting him with a lot. He could screw us over twelve ways to Sunday, such as making a more profitable arrangement with the changelings and even throwing in Pedro to sweeten the deal.

  But it was on the latter point that I was confident Gregory would come through.

  I tilted my head. “You think I didn’t notice you quietly boosting the kid’s energy every time you gave him an encouraging pat on the back? The kid has never been trained to be on the field. He never learned how to conserve or focus his energy. He should have been dead on his feet by now, given the succubus attack and sheer exhaustion, but he isn’t thanks to you. You like the kid. You wouldn’t try anything funny with him at risk.”

  Or with the other children’s lives at risk, actually. Just like with Candy, he had a soft spot for lost kids because he’d been one himself. Gregory might be many things, but my gut was telling me he wouldn’t jeopardize this mission.

  He smiled ruefully, then stepped closer, his eyes full of challenge of another kind. “What about in general? Do you also believe I wouldn’t try anything, er, funny?”

  With him right in my personal space and our faces inches from each other, memory of our near-kiss flared in my mind. I knew exactly what he meant by funny.

  “We’ll figure it out after all this is over.” I took a step back. “There’s always a chance we won’t survive.”

  He chuckled. “Such an optimist.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Tree

  THE TREE WAS AN underground facility that used an ancient tree’s trunk as an access point on the ground level. It was a ten thousand year old great basin bristlecone pine located in the White Mounta
ins of California. Members of one of the witches’ unions called the Anorites Coven had stood guard since the very beginning days of the Council. It was a tradition very much like the human Swiss Guards handling security for the Vatican.

  Esme, Fir, the Off-Blacks, and I teleported to the valley where the Tree was located; we landed about a mile out and prepared to walk to the entrance. The Tree was equipped with the expected high-security perimeters for headquarters and teleporting within them was impossible.

  Before crossing the magical boundary, Fir took out a cream lace parasol and gestured for me to take it. It was a beautiful piece of embroidery with intricate patterns, and the early afternoon sun filtered through its various loops and openings.

  The parasol was strangely fitting to the woodland we were passing through, but not really appropriate for carrying into a vengeance headquarters. But I’d learned to trust Fir’s methods, so I took the parasol. Then he gestured for me to pass it to Esme, which I did.

  Esme held the parasol and frowned. “What is this for?”

  “I mean, it’s very steampunk and everything,” I said. “But we need to get through the safeguard, not go to ComicCon.”

  “This baby is perception altering,” Fir explained. “As long as we physically touch the parasol once then stay within a few feet of it, we’re covered. When the witch who monitors the entry looks through her synch mirror, all she’ll see is Esme.”

  “She’ll see me holding this?” Esme sent the parasol spinning slightly. “Wouldn’t it look suspicious?”

  “They’ll just see you alone. No parasol. No me. No Megan.” Fir reassured her, “I’ve been getting my inspiration from human myths and legends all over the world. Figured there might be some truth behind them. In the grand scheme of things, humans dismissing magic is a pretty recent occurrence. There’s an old Asian myth involving ghosts being stuck in certain locations, but able to travel to other places if a consenting mortal is willing to carry the umbrella it’s hiding under. I tweaked the concept a bit to make it more demon friendly.”