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Enraged: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Unturned Book 4)

Page 8

by Rob Cornell


  “Stop,” Mom shouted. “Listen.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” she said with an edge I remembered from childhood. The Do as I say, or else tone she had right before grounding me. “And you will.”

  I stood up. My knees ached a little from hitting the solid floor. I loomed over her. But she didn’t let that last. She rose, and while I still had three or four inches on her, she had the largest presence, her magic pulsing from her body with enough heat to raise the temp in the room a couple degrees.

  I stepped back.

  “I did not claim the Maidens aren’t using Sly’s soul for whatever they’re up to. And I have little doubt they sent that creature after you. That doesn’t mean Sly’s sickness is coming from the ritual.”

  I grinded my fingertips into my forehead to massage out the headache gathering there. “That doesn’t make any sense. Angelica seemed to think their ritual has something to do with it. Who am I to doubt her?”

  “It’s an avenue to explore. That’s all I’m suggesting. If he’s sick for some other reason, you won’t have to face the Maidens of Shadow.”

  Sounded like pure… “Wishful thinking.”

  Isn’t that what she had said to me before, completely out of context? Now I understood. I also understood why she had whispered I know when I had told her about Sly’s deal with the Maidens. Because she had known all along.

  I turned away from her, moved to look out the back window overlooking the old covered porch. The woods started about half an acre out across a flat clearing. A light flurry had dusted the field. The flakes were small, and I hoped they stayed that way. I was pissed enough without having to trudge through snow on top of everything else.

  “They used Sly’s soul for you,” I said more to myself than her.

  “Yes,” she said. “They did. And I suppose I’m glad I didn’t tell you.”

  “That’s great, Mom. Fantastic.”

  I heard her sigh behind me. “Someone else knew about it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Everyone gets to know but me. Did you tell Gladys or something?”

  “I told Sly.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A part of me didn’t believe her. I thought she was trying to back off from the truth, calm me down. But when I turned away from the window, I could see in her pinched eyes she was telling the truth. It didn’t make me feel any better. The two people left in the world who I trusted had both kept a pretty major secret from me.

  That left me where? With only myself to trust? Ha. I probably couldn’t even do that.

  “I suppose Sly was perfectly okay with that,” I said.

  She smiled. I couldn’t believe it. What could she possibly have to smile about?

  “He was,” she said. “He told me he was glad he could pay once to help me twice. I felt awful, of course—”

  “Then why did you let them do it?”

  Her smile turned into an vicious scowl. Her fingers curled to claws at her sides. “Because I was desperate. You know that. You saw how not knowing what happened to your father chewed me apart. It was killing me, Sebastian. Those girls didn’t just save my memories, they saved my sanity.”

  “So you’re fine with them using part of Sly’s soul to work magic? It doesn’t bother you at all?”

  “Of course it bothers me,” she shrieked. Tears welled in her eyes. Her nostrils flared. Her clawed hands tugged at the bottom edge of her sweater as if she wanted to rip it off. “But it’s done. And the only man who has any right to be angry has already forgiven me.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And now he’s dying.”

  Her damp eyes widened, flashed in the light from the simple, tulip-shaped chandelier above. An electric smell rose in the overheated room—Mom’s magic hijacked by her emotions. “You have some nerve.” Then she turned on her heel and stormed into the hall. A second later her door slammed, vibrating the walls.

  Like the dog I was, I slunk away to the kitchen. I picked up my pen off the counter and went through my shopping list. I could stop by a Meijer on the way to get Odi. Anything else I needed? Something made the words on the page blur. I blinked. Tears gummed up my eyelashes.

  I swiped my arm across the counter and sent the notepad flinging off the end. The pages spread in flight and fluttered like the winds of a duck shot from the sky. I tossed the pen after it. Then I slammed a fist down on the counter top. Something cracked along the outside edge of my hand. Needles of pain jabbed through my palm and up my wrist.

  I raised my throbbing hand. My pinky finger looked a little crooked.

  For the gods’ sake, what was wrong with me? I had alienated the one person left standing on my side. Did I want to fight a coven of black witches on my own?

  What about what your mom said? Maybe it isn’t the witches.

  Bull. I had to apply Occam’s razor here. Simplest explanation—the Maidens were killing Sly, nothing else.

  But what if?

  I hated what ifs. They only muddied otherwise clear waters.

  Standing there whining about it wouldn’t do me any good, though.

  Carrying my broken hand against my belly, I marched over and picked the notepad up off the floor. I scanned around for the pen, but didn’t see it. I had given it a good toss. It had probably bounced behind the furniture somewhere. No matter. I was going to add bandages and a splint to the list, but I didn’t think the thumping heartbeat of pain in my hand would let me forget those couple items.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I did the best I could with the splint while sitting in my car in the Meijer parking lot. I could have waited the last hour before dusk and had Odi help, but pride left me to fumble with it on my own.

  I managed.

  Then I leaned back my seat, tuned the radio to a classic rock station, and dozed to the sounds of Led Zeppelin, The Who, and Queen while I waited for evening to turn to night. I stayed in the parking lot because I didn’t want to sit at home to wait for another attack from the Maidens. I just hoped they hadn’t shown up anyway and messed with Odi. If that were the case, I might return to find a crater where the house used to be.

  I did not want that kind of thing to become a habit.

  The little bit of sleep I managed was enough to allow my magic to heal my busted pinky. I was glad I’d decided to put the splint on myself. Just because my magic can heal me more quickly while I sleep, it didn’t mean everything healed straight. I could have ended up with a funky looking finger that I would have had to rebreak to fix.

  I ripped off the splint, then headed for home.

  When I arrived, I found the house unscathed. I saw no sign of the witches or any other creature they may have dug out of whatever hell they’d tapped into. I had to wonder how many they could summon and bind like that, especially while working whatever huge ritual they already had going.

  Seemed like a lot. Even for the Maidens of Shadow—mothers or no mothers.

  I parked in the short driveway and went inside.

  Odi sat in the living room watching the Cartoon Network. I didn’t recognize the show, but the cartoon characters’ behavior didn’t look kid-friendly to me.

  He lounged on the couch, remote in one hand, a glass mason jar in the other. Thick, red liquid filled the mason jar halfway. My blood. We kept it refrigerated for him. Something about the nature of my vamp infected but unturned blood made it five times as potent to vampires than the average human’s. I had seen it heal the kid from some serious injuries in record time. And since we still hadn’t figured out an ethical method of feeding Odi, I let him drink my stuff for the time being.

  I know. Three months sounded a little longer than the time being. I couldn’t very well send him out hunting, though, could I? And I didn’t feel comfortable having him try to enthrall a “willing” donor, even though that wasn’t against Ministry law. The Ministry gave vamps that leeway in order to keep the peace. As long as the vampires didn’t kill their donors, the Ministry looked the other w
ay. A morally questionable compromise, but there you had it.

  Besides, I didn’t think Odi could successfully enthrall even the most empty-headed human. Toft had only given the kid the basics behind enthralling, but hadn’t shown him the mechanics on how to actually do it. And I sure as hell couldn’t teach him that trick.

  It occurred to me, not for the first time, that I might have to find Odi another vampire mentor. But that idea had as much appeal as letting Odi loose to feed on his own.

  So, lucky him, he got my blood. No thrall necessary. Just a little guilt.

  “What’s up?” he said, eyes on the TV.

  When I didn’t answer, he looked over at me. His eyes narrowed. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

  I didn’t know what he saw. Something about my posture maybe. Or the look on my face.

  “I had a fight with my mom.”

  “Oh.” His gaze drifted off. Not back to the TV. Just away, as if he were embarrassed about something. He probably didn’t want to hear about my parental issues. He’d never had a real set of parents. And now I was feeling guilty about even mentioning it.

  “You ready to hit the streets?” I asked.

  He nodded, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, and smeared blood (my blood) across his knuckles. I hadn’t noticed how deep red his lips had been until he cleared them off some.

  I felt a weird twitch at the back of my brain, some primal reaction to the sight of someone drinking my blood. Apparently, evolution had a tick for that.

  But what he did next twisted my stomach like a bile-soaked rag.

  He licked the blood off his hand as casual as if he had popped the last bite of a meal in his mouth before standing up from the dining table. I gaped at him while he scooped the mason jar’s lid off the coffee table and screwed it back in place. Obliviously, he stood and hiked it back to the kitchen.

  I heard the fridge open. The clink of glass on glass as he set it on the shelf. Then the door shut. The faucet ran for a few seconds. Finally, Odi came back into the living room and froze when he saw me.

  “You look even worse. Don’t let those lame witches get you down. We’ll get them, dude. We’ll mess ‘em up.”

  My face felt clammy. A bad taste filled my mouth. I had planned on picking up a burger, but I wasn’t sure I would eat for days now. When had the drinking of Sebastian Light’s blood become so mundane?

  “Hey,” Odi said as he crossed over to me. He clapped me on the arm. “Chin up.”

  I shook my head. There was no point complaining. I had offered my blood. He had accepted. He was living up to his end of the bargain. But I thought I was within my rights to make a request.

  “Odi?”

  He grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t ever eat in front of me again.”

  His grin disappeared. “Oh. Yeah. That’s awkward. Sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Odi kept asking me where we were going. The problem was, I didn’t know. I had the groceries in the trunk. I had my apprentice with me in the car. And I had no destination in mind. So I drove aimlessly.

  Eventually, Odi got sick of bugging me. He fell silent. But only lasted five minutes.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  “I broke it.”

  He rolled his eyes. “How?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Where’s Judith?”

  “In hiding.”

  He grunted. “Are you gonna tell me anything, or am I supposed to guess?”

  I realized he didn’t know about the hell beast at the hospital. He’d been asleep in his coffin. I apologized and caught him up.

  “Dude, those witches are—”

  “Skip the poetry, kid.”

  He waggled his head and mimicked me in a nasal voice. “Skip the poetry, kid. Nananana.”

  “Besides, Mom has an alternate theory.” I wasn’t sure why I brought it up. I didn’t need to confuse the issue with Odi. I guess I wanted to talk it out…like I should have with Mom, instead of getting all pissy with her.

  “I’m listening.”

  Tired of driving, I pulled into a Taco Bell, planning to park, but curved around to the drive-thru instead. I ordered six crunchy tacos and a Dr. Pepper. Then I drove around to the front lot and parked next to a rusty minivan that looked like a hand vac on wheels.

  The smell of the tacos made me forget Odi’s meal incident at the house. I tasted the first taco before it reached my mouth. I crunched through them, one after another, while Odi stared out the passenger side window, shoulders hunched a little.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked through a mouthful of crunchy taco goodness.

  “You don’t like me to eat in front of you? Right back at ya.”

  I held up the last half of my last taco. “This bothers you?”

  He hunched his shoulders more and crossed his arms across his belly. “It smells…I remember the smell. I could have gorged on those things before… But now it’s making me hungry and sick at the same time.”

  Memories of what it used to be like as a human didn’t sit so far back on Odi’s timeline. I often found it strange how much human he still clung to. I found a lot of things strange about his situation, actually. The only people who typically had contact with baby vamps were other vampires. Makers tended to shelter their young until the transition from mortal to demon had jelled.

  I had a unique view into the lifecycle of the undead. Weird doesn’t begin to describe it.

  I finished off my last taco, my stomach swollen and gurgling, packed up the trash, and tossed it over my shoulder into the back seat. The meaty smell still hung in the air. I would have cracked the window for Odi’s sake, but that small flurry from earlier had thickened to a steady snow, the flakes fat and almost as big as fall leaves shaken from a tree. I’d be damned if I let any of that float into my car.

  “So what’s this alternate theory?” he asked, finally turning to face me. His face had a pink flush to it. My blood had perked him up nicely. I suddenly didn’t feel so bad about eating those tacos in front of him.

  “I didn’t get any details,” I said. “I don’t think there are details. But Mom thinks it could be something besides the Maidens making Sly sick.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “Honestly, because I think she feels guilty.”

  “About what?”

  I drummed the beat to Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” on the steering wheel. I didn’t want to reveal Mom and Sly’s little betrayal. I was angry with her, but I didn’t want to make her look bad to Odi. “It’s complicated.”

  “Ain’t it always with you?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re part of my life’s complications, so don’t get glib with me, Mr. Crossman.”

  He waved his hands in pretend fear. “Oooooh.”

  I smiled. The kid had a knack for keeping things light. Sometimes he took it to annoying lengths, but for the most part I appreciated his levity. He kept me from getting too dark and broody.

  “If we go with Mom’s theory, we’re faced with one, massive, obvious question.”

  “What else is making him sick?”

  “What else, or who else?”

  We stared ahead out the windshield. The only thing to look at was a white concrete wall that separated the restaurant’s lot from the pawn shop next door. All I could see of the neighboring building was the roof and the “We Buy Gold” sign posted high above the shop’s entrance.

  Neither of us said anything for a while.

  “What about…” Odi shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

  “If we’re brainstorming,” I said, “you don’t get to hold anything back.”

  He shrugged. “Someone from the Ministry? One of the dudes you pissed off?”

  “Possible.” But it seemed thin. Why go after Sly? I didn’t discount the idea entirely, though.

  I rummaged through my mind for other possibilities. For some damn reason Fiona popped up. She didn’t
have anything to do with this.

  You sure about that?

  Of course I was sure. That made even less sense than…well…anything.

  Fiona had plenty to answer for as it was. I didn’t need to pin any of my other troubles on her.

  I tried to back away from assuming this had something to do with me. Granted, most of the attacks lately had been directed at me. Vamps, overzealous demon hunters, Ministry conspirators. Everyone hated Sebastian.

  But who hated Sly?

  I couldn’t picture the guy having any serious enemies. He didn’t hunt demons. He didn’t summon creatures from the beyond. All he really did was mix potions in the back room of his headshop in between selling fellow ganja smokers the paraphernalia they needed for a mellow night and a bad case of munchies.

  Everyone loved Sly.

  But everybody has enemies.

  Even if that were the case, I didn’t know where to start looking for one. I couldn’t ask Sly. The only other person I knew close to him was his stoner nephew, Green. I guess he was as good a place to start as any.

  I started the car.

  Odi perked up. “You think of something?”

  “We’re gonna pay Sly’s nephew a visit. See if he knows anyone who might have it in for Sly.”

  “Green? Aw, dude, I love that guy.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I swung by Sly’s to check the address book he kept by the phone, got Green’s addy, and let Google Maps do the rest. Turned out Green lived with his mom. And he lived in the basement. Why would I have expected anything less?

  His mom had a condo off Hall Road in Sterling Heights, not far from Lakeside Mall. Nothing fancy, your basic four walls and a roof with two of those walls shared by your neighbors.

  His mom looked like she was in her mid-thirties, but that would have meant she had Green when she was around ten. The exercise bike and yoga ball tucked in one corner of the living room suggested she worked to stay fit. I felt I could safely add ten years to come close to her actual age.

  She answered the door in purple yoga pants and a tie-dyed t-shirt a couple sizes too big for her small frame. The collar hung off one tanned shoulder.

 

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