by Parker Blue
It was enough to pierce his heart and he dropped on top of Micah.
A LITTLE HELP HERE, Fang yelled.
He'd harried the female vamp and kept her occupied, but though he was part hellhound, she still outweighed him six to one. As she lifted her foot to kick him, I tackled her and punched her in the face as hard as I could. Her neck snapped back and she hit the ground. She looked surprised.
It felt good, so I dropped down on top of her, straddled her waist and hit her again. And again and again.
ENOUGH, Fang yelled in my mind. YOU WHUPPED HER GOOD. STOP ALREADY.
His sarcasm got to me. I stopped, fist upraised, and stared down at the vamp whose face was beaten, battered, and bloody. Repulsed, I let my arm drop. Had I done that?
Fang dropped a fallen branch by my hand. JUST KILL HER ALREADY.
Yes, that was my job—taking out the bloodsuckers who preyed on humans. Not beating the crap out of them like the monster some thought me. Before the vamp could recover, I snatched up the branch and, using both hands, stabbed it down so hard I pinned her to the ground. She stiffened, then lay still, well and truly dead.
FEEL BETTER NOW?
Actually, I did. “Shut up,” I muttered and felt the sizzle in my blood cool a bit. Lola had gotten her jollies with one kind of lust anyway, so she was happy. Glad someone is, I thought, annoyed at myself. I got to my feet to check on Micah.
He had rolled the vamp off of him and was sitting up, wide-eyed, holding a hand to his neck.
"You okay?” I asked.
Micah nodded. “Yes, thanks to the two of you.” He removed his hand from his neck. The bite mark was very shallow, so the vamp hadn't gotten started, thank goodness. I wondered idly why they were here, then realized they had probably come to pay their respects to Lily, former leader of San Antonio's bad-ass vamps. San Antonio, land of the Alamo, cowboys, barbecue, and the undead. Well, they could pay their respects in person now—in hell.
Speaking of which . . . I pulled a GPS locator out of my pocket and activated it so one of the city's secret Special Crimes Unit pick-up units would come to dispose of the dead vamps. After I'd done my duty, I studied Micah more closely. Though it was rather dark, my enhanced senses allowed me to see him clearly. He looked really shocked.
"Never fought a vamp before?” I guessed.
He glanced up at me. “No. They're so much faster and stronger, I try to avoid it."
I glanced down at the dead undead who'd almost fanged Micah and was surprised to see how slight he was. Micah must outweigh the vamp by a good thirty pounds. Why hadn't he been able to fight the bloodsucker off?
As I helped Micah to his feet, he added, “I don't know how you do it—you're as good as they are. Rick must have been one great trainer. You're not even breathing hard."
True, my stepfather had been an excellent martial arts trainer, but speed and strength came naturally to me. There'd been no need to teach me that. “You mean, you're not as good as they are?"
He laughed without mirth. “Of course not. I'm only one-eighth incubus, like you. The only thing I could do is enthrall them . . . and only if they're female.” He glanced at me curiously. “Why didn't you do that to the two males?"
Because I'd tried my whole life to avoid using my succubus powers to control men. I'd grown up with a mother who never forgave my part-demon father for enthralling her. “I didn't think about it, I just reacted.” But . . . why hadn't Micah been able to fight off a baby vamp?
Fang frowned up at me. GOOD QUESTION.
My expression must have looked as odd as I felt, because Micah asked, “What is it? What's wrong?"
"Don't you . . . have super strength, reflexes, senses, and healing ability?"
He paused in brushing off his pants, looking surprised. “No. Do you?"
"Yeah, I thought you knew that. You mean that's not part of being a lust demon?"
"Not so far as I know."
Fang stared at me. HOLY CRAP, BATMAN. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
"I have no idea.” My mind raced as I struggled to understand what Micah had revealed. Why was I so much stronger and faster than him?
"It's possible . . . “ Micah hesitated.
"What? Tell me."
He looked apologetic. “I personally don't know of any, but it's possible that you are descended from more than one type of demon."
"What?” Stunned, I asked, “What other kind of demon?"
"I have no idea. We lost a lot of knowledge when we lost the Encyclopedia Magicka."
IT'S NOT LOST, Fang said. VAL HAS IT.
It was Micah's turn to say, “What?"
"I have it,” I confirmed. “I didn't know anyone was looking for it."
"All three books?"
I nodded. “My father gave them to me for my fifth birthday.” Right before he killed himself in despair over being a demon, I didn't say out loud. .
Micah goggled at me. “So that's where they went. We've been looking for those books for years, struggling in the dark, trying to find clues to our demon nature whenever we could. And you've had them all along?"
He looked indignant, but I held up my hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn't know he stole them. You can have them back, no problem.” It was the least I could do after Micah had made me feel so welcome. Besides, they really belonged to him, since my father had probably stolen them from Micah's father.
He relaxed and ran a hand over his face. “I'm sorry, but you have no idea how much having those books would have helped us over the past thirteen years. It's the only known copy of the encyclopedia in existence."
Fang rolled his eyes. EVER HEAR OF A SCANNER? OR A COPY MACHINE?
Micah grinned ruefully. “Good point. But my father probably didn't want to make it too easy for others to steal—the information can be dangerous in the wrong hands."
"Dangerous how? You mean because it reveals our weaknesses?"
"Yes, but that's just the first volume. The other two . . . “ He gave me a quizzical look. “Did you read the other two?"
"No—I didn't read much at all.” I shrugged. “I figured they were just more books on magick, maybe a little more accurate than most.” After all, I'd been around lots of them at Mom and Rick's New Age bookstore. And I wasn't much of a reader—action was more my thing.
"And you didn't feel any . . . pull from the books?"
"No. Should I?"
"I guess not. My father didn't explain that real well, but I definitely got the impression there was something dangerous about possessing volumes two and three. They're about the old magicks, ones no one uses anymore. I'll be glad to get them back, so I can keep them safe."
"I'll bring them over to you right away, I promise."
It dawned on me we were chatting there in the dark, in a cemetery, with Lily buried nearby in two pieces—her head and the rest of her—and the gape-eyed corpses of three vamps sprawled around us. I shrugged. No biggie. All in a day's work.
"I appreciate it.” Micah snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. The reason I've been trying to find you is because I want to make sure you come to the social. You can bring the books to me then."
I grimaced. “I'm not feeling very social right now.” And I didn't know many people in the Demon Underground.
"You should come. Eat, drink, get to know other part-demons like yourself."
"Why don't you guys just start a chat room? Or friend each other on Facebook?"
IT'S OKAY, Fang assured me. I'VE BEEN AND IT'S FUN. YOU CAN BE YOURSELF WITH NO BLOOD, MAYHEM, OR VAMPIRES BEATEN TO A BLOODY PULP.
I glared at him, but he ignored me.
Micah added, “Oh, and the New Blood Movement wants to discuss something with us, too, so some of them are coming as well."
I grimaced. I hadn't seen Alejandro or his vampire followers since I'd lopped Lily's head off and stained his pristine rug. He'd said he was cool with that, but . . .
Oh, well, might as well get it over with. “Uh, okay. When is it again?"
He
checked his watch. “In about an hour, at the club. I've closed it to the public tonight."
"Okay, I'll come and bring the books. Maybe you can help me look through them to find out why I have these abilities and you don't."
Micah shook my hand. “It's a deal."
The SCU pick-up unit, disguised as an ambulance, drove up then. Micah left, and I helped the staff load the undead remains. Then I headed home to the townhouse I shared with Dan's sister, wondering what freaky thing would happen next. It had been a hell of a week, and the revelation that I might have two demons inside me made me tired and confused.
Fang nudged me. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, KIDDO. YOU'RE STILL VAL.
Yes, but until an hour ago, I'd thought I knew myself pretty well. Now I had no idea who . . . or what . . . or how many of me . . . I really was.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Fang and I went to the townhouse to stock up again on stakes and holy water—just in case—and I put the heavy books of the encyclopedia in a backpack. My friend and landlord, Dan's sister, Gwen, a nurse, wasn't there to ask questions, thank goodness. She worked the night shift at the hospital.
My cell rang as we were about to head out, and I checked the number. Nope, not Dan. It was my stepfather. Sighing, I answered, “Hello, Rick."
"Hello, sweetheart. How's everything going?"
"Okay.” Fang snorted, but I ignored him. “Everyone there okay?"
"Wonderful, thanks to you. Jen and I owe you our lives and—"
I cut him off. “You don't have to keep thanking me. Once was enough.” Besides, that's what family did for each other.
"Sorry. I just meant that I've been talking to your mother, and she's grateful, too."
"Uh huh,” I said noncommittally, as Fang rolled his eyes. We both believed Mom was happy that her husband and favorite daughter had been saved . . . but I wasn't so sure she was glad I was the one to do it. She'd always blamed me for being a bad influence on Jen. It's why she'd kicked me out of the house and made me live on my own the day I turned eighteen. I'd been lucky to connect with Fang, Dan, his sister, and a job with the San Antonio P.D.
"No, really,” Rick said. “I'm calling to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner."
I hesitated. A week ago, I would have been thrilled to be invited back into the fold. But now . . . I wasn't sure. I stuck my hand in my pocket and hunched my shoulders. “I don't know. I'm still not sure I'm welcome.” They were all fully human. I'd finally accepted that I'm not. Fully human, that is. The whole time I was growing up, Mom had made me feel like a freak. I wasn't sure I wanted to go back.
His voice softened. “Really, Val, she's mellowed. She's even hired one of Micah's people at the store."
"You mean she'll actually have another part-demon around Jen?” Just as long as the part-demon isn't me, huh?.
"Yeah, well, but Jen doesn't like him."
Fang snorted. THAT EXPLAINS A LOT. IF BABY SISTER DOESN'T LIKE HIM, MOM ASSUMES HE CAN'T BE A BAD INFLUENCE ON HER.
True. And it might deter Jen's unhealthy fascination with all things vamp and demony. Mom wasn't being altruistic—she was covering her butt. After seeing how naive Jen was about Alejandro and the other vamps, I couldn't blame her. “I don't know, Rick. I might spend Thanksgiving with Micah and the others."
Rick sighed. “I know they probably feel more like family right now than we do."
"Not really, but at least they don't carp at me and blame me for everything wrong in their lives like Mom does."
"I understand, but Jen and I want you here, and your mother promised to behave."
I grimaced. Why couldn't she just want me to come home ‘cause I'm her daughter, too? Selfishly, I wanted her to want me there.
But that obviously wasn't going to happen. “I don't—"
"Think about it, Val. Thanksgiving is three weeks away. Really, I think this could bring the two of you back together."
Fang eyed me. DON'T DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU'LL REGRET IT.
He was probably right, but Mom, Rick and Jen were the only human family I had. Hedging, I said, “I'll think about it."
"Good, good.” Rick sounded relieved. “We'll count on you being here."
I made a noncommittal noise and changed the subject. “Hey, did Mom ever mention anything about my father being more than one kind of demon?"
"No.” Rick sounded surprised. “Why?"
"No reason. I'm just, uh, trying to learn more about my uh . . . heritage, you know?"
"Sorry, she never mentioned anything else about him. Want me to ask her?"
"Sure, if you would.” Mom was the only connection I had to my father's demon ancestry. If I have any close relatives on his side, they'd never made themselves known to me. But she might know.
"Okay, will do. Or you could ask her yourself . . . “
I grimaced. Yeah, right. Loads of fun, talking to Mom about her unwanted demon in-laws. “Hey, listen, gotta go. I have a thing."
"Okay, sweetheart. See you soon."
He hung up and Fang nosed me. DO YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE MOMMY DEAREST AGAIN?
"Not really.” But there was something deep inside that longed to be a kid again, playing with my sister, training with Rick, baking cookies with Mom . . .
. . . BEING TREATED LIKE CRAP, LIKE YOU'RE SUB-HUMAN, BEING HIDDEN AWAY FROM THE WORLD LIKE YOU'RE A FREAK . . .
I winced. Fang was right. Unless I could somehow rip out the demon part of me, my mother was never going to love me like she did her fully human daughter. I sighed. It was her problem, not mine, and I'd learned to deal.
EVEN BETTER, YOU HAVE A NEW LIFE OF YOUR OWN. AND ME.
I laughed and hugged him. “True. Let's get going so we don't miss the party."
* * * *
Fang and I cruised down to San Antonio's famous River Walk on my Valkyrie, looking forward to the restaurants and crowds and romantic atmosphere, relaxing in the balmy autumn evening. I parked the Valkyrie and Fang and I walked down the stone steps. Tourists and locals mixed freely on both sides of the narrow, jade-green river, strolling hand in hand, or chatting and laughing over meals under bright umbrellas. The little twinkling lights in the trees overhanging the river made it seem somehow magical . . . in a good way. The River Walk always seemed to me like a lost world in a bubble of its own, far removed from ordinary reality. Or at least, certainly something I never knew as ordinary.
But despite being in my favorite place, I couldn't help but speculate on what other kind of demon might be lurking within me. It was hard not to wonder . . . and worry.
RELAX, Fang said. MAYBE THERE'S MORE THAN ONE WAY TO BE A LUST DEMON. MAYBE YOUR PHYSICAL STRENGTH IS INHERITED FROM YOUR FAMILY AND NOT MICAH'S. NO BIG.
"Maybe not for you . . .” What if it was something else? Like there was a demon time bomb set to go off in my body or something.
OBSESS MUCH?
"Maybe I have good reason."
AND MAYBE YOU DON'T. DID YOU READ ABOUT ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN THE ENCYCLOPEDIA MAGICKA?
No, but I hadn't read that much of it, and I didn't remember reading about anyone having a mixture of demons inside them. What happened when two types of demons mingled?
YOU GET VAL SHAPIRO, Fang said. NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
I grinned down at the hellhound. He did know how to make me feel better.
Ignoring the “Closed” sign at Micah's place, Club Purgatory, Fang and I entered through the front. A man at the podium glanced at us then waved us in. “They're in the Ladies Lounge,” he said.
Fang sniffed the air. THERE'S ANOTHER DOG HERE. COOL—SOMEONE MY OWN SIZE.
He bounded up the stairs, and I followed. The club looked so different with the lights turned up. Not as dark and mysterious. No crowds of swooning women watching Micah dance. Instead, the purgatory flame and devil theme seemed a little theatrical and hokey under the bright lights.
When I entered the lounge, I saw that someone—probably Micah's assistant, Tessa—had made an attemp
t to decorate for the party, with streamers, balloons, and floral centerpieces on all the tables. But thankfully, no stupid party hats. Could you imagine demons wearing pointy pieces of cardboard snugged with elastic under their chins? Not.
The room was full of people of all shapes, sizes, age, and ethnicity. All colors and creeds of human being could be part-demon. And most of them looked entirely normal . . . though a good sprinkling of them showed evidence of their mixed family trees.
I was used to them, now. I didn't even blink at the sight of small horns peeking from their hair, or purple skin, or vaporish clouds where their faces should be.
Fang immediately followed his nose to the other side of the room, and I smiled at Micah, who came to greet me. He glanced at the backpack. “You have the books?” he asked eagerly.
"Yep."
I handed them over. He unzipped the backpack and peered inside. “Excellent.” He glanced around and beckoned Tessa over. She looked even more elfin than normal in this lighting. Not that she was an actual elf. At least, not so far as I knew. Tessa's claim to demon fame was subtle. She went into trances and uttered mysterious prophecies. “Could you put these in the office and lock the door, please?” Micah asked.
Tessa smiled a greeting at me. “Sure.” She hefted the backpack. “That's strange . . . I didn't know I'd be able to feel the magick."
"You can?” I asked in surprise.
"Yes. Can't you?"
"Uh, no. Guess I'm not sensitive enough."
Tessa shrugged and took off with the backpack, but now that I didn't have anything to hold onto, I wasn't quite sure what to do with my hands . . . or the rest of me. I hadn't attended many parties in my lonely life, so I stood there, feeling like a total loser.
Micah must have sensed my geekiness, because he gestured toward the bar. “There's food and drink over there. Have some, then mingle, get to know folks."
"Uh, are there some . . . manners or customs or whatever, that I should know?” I didn't want to screw up or anything. Please, give me directions on how to navigate this foreign land.
"One thing—in the Demon Underground, it's considered bad manners to ask someone what kind of demon they are. Unless they choose to tell you themselves, of course."