Cursed Mother: A Mongrelverse Book (Mother of Monsters 1)

by Paul C. Middleton

  Contents

  To those who supported me, all of you from 20 books.

  But Especially to

  Cover Design / Illustrator: Deranged Doctor Designs

  Final Copy Editor: Kat Lind

  Editorial Team: Bree Burrs, Diane Velasquez, Dorene Johnson, Tom Dickerson,

  This Book would literally be less than half as good without you. Your support and commentary to a new author cannot be more appreciated

  Technical Thing: Kat Lind and her team (and the SCARE program)

  Other: The Innana's Circle Game Group

  And the 20 Books Crew. We're all on this crazy journey together.

  Thank you for your encouragement.

  And apologies to anyone I have forgotten. You have my email or facebook, tell me if I missed you and I'll add you for the next edition.

  Disclaimer

  This book is an Urban Fantasy novel, set in a world like ours in many ways, but very different in many others.

  This book is a work of fiction, all the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Similarities to current events can be considered 'timey wimey wibbly wobbly'

  Any references or portrayals of religion are not intended to provoke offense, but rather provoke thought.

  If there is a God or any Gods they obviously intended us to think - look at the Yapok and the Platypus.

  Copyright (c) 2016 Paul C. Middleton

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is dedicated to the Roberts family

  Who made Armidale a true home for me

  Marnie, for being there to talk to whenever I needed it.

  Henry for always being able to make a joke, if sometimes a bad one.

  Shaniah and Courtney, for helping me see the world through younger eyes.

  Harry and Lewis for reminding me there is still wonders in the world (At least for some people).

  I don't know what to thank Max for yet, he's a little young.

  (Max was born while I was finishing the book.)

  Chapter 1

  I was always nervous as I headed into The Menagerie. After all, it's not a safe place for people like me. It catered to a unique mix of Supernaturals, and was the only place like it in Australia. Publicly, it was the kind of dive that made biker bars look like havens for saints. You might find places where demons and angels would frequent simultaneously. Not as unusual as you'd think, as they both had an agenda to scare people away from the Supernatural, and towards the God they followed.

  Not the kind of place people expected a wealthy woman like myself to enter. The number of propositions I received was somewhat ego swelling, although I looked at least a decade younger than I really was. It was part of the nature of my problem. I'd give up all those years of youthful looks to solve it, and gladly.

  The front bar often had Weres fighting each other in their human form. Behind the front bar was an unregistered back bar. The venue catered to any peculiarities that a Supernatural might desire. Except murder. For the Vampires and other blood drinkers there were 'groupies,' recruited for their desire to be bitten or their hope to be chosen to become a Vampire. Or so I assumed. I did not want to associate with blood givers and drinkers. For Shapeshifters, there was a pit where they could conduct training and challenges. For the Fae it was considered neutral. In all ways, the bar was to them. It was the place where they could meet without violence being guaranteed, no matter the mix of courts.

  I came once a month, like clockwork. People assumed it was to get a piece of 'rough' on the side when they found out. I wish. I was looking for someone willing to take a big risk and help me remove the curse my ex's new wife had placed on me on their wedding day.

  The thought always brought a tear to my eye. I had loved Dan, deeply. I had played around on him because he was always at work. He'd even slept there four or more nights a week, making me feel like I was a piece of eye candy to him. Someone to be on his arm at events. He’d objected to any attempt I made to help him at work, or find a job of my own. I'd become bored and lonely, so I'd lashed out.

  When he found out what I'd been doing, it nearly killed him. His love for me became a burning hate. Though I hadn't known it, Dan believed in the Supernatural. He started looking for people to curse me. Unfortunately, both of us were angry at each other in different ways. Witches had been unwilling to curse a woman who felt scorned. So he looked deeper and darker for someone—some being—willing to curse me.

  He found Alecto. The Fury of Anger. As both of us were enraged at the other, and my ex had lost most everything in the divorce he insisted on, her payment had been to curse him. A curse he found he enjoyed. They ended up married.

  I ended up convinced it had all been faked.

  I have long since come to the belief that if there was a God, he stopped listening some time ago. He sure as heck hadn't heard my prayers.

  When I married Dan, I would never have thought that he even believed in cursing people. I used the excuse that he was at work so often for why I cheated on him. He never seemed to have time for me. I see now that he was working so hard for us. After all, when I broke his heart he didn’t just try to curse me himself. No, he found a real professional and paid her.

  Then he ended up marrying her.

  The curse his new wife put on me came in two parts. The first part was that I would never give birth to a human child. The second part was that I would be fertile for more than a century. It’s been 15 years. I still didn’t fully believe the curse was over me until after the birth of my fifth child.

  My first two children seemed normal, although my eldest daughter has always had a green tint to her hair. Following the birth of my third child, I found myself thinking that the curse that had been placed on me might actually be real. That was my final child with that father. When she came out with scales covering her legs he hadn't been able to ignore them. Unlike the medical staff. Thankfully, I'd had a prenup agreement. With no evidence of, or actual, cheating I'd taken him to the cleaners. I started believing in the curse with my third child’s birth. It took me longer to believe in the full extent of I also became afraid that some of a Fury's nature might have crept through from the curse.

  I had two more children from discreet one-night stands, despite using every method of birth control known to man. The only sex I'd had in the last twelve years. The final one had, despite my own needs, forced me to reconsider having any sex life beyond those dandy little devices. It still caused me some despair at times. A woman has needs, okay?

  I loved all my children, but in desperation had needed to find a new home for the youngest. He'd been an Imp. Horns, a tail, the works. Of all people, Alecto's grandson, who insisted on being called The Mongrel, had been the only one willing to help me with that problem. Even he refused to cross his grandmother on helping me find a way to break the curse problem I have.

  So I regularly visited The Menagerie, hoping to find someone crazy enough to cross one of the ancient Furies. Tonight was no different. I braved the unique and disgusting ambience of the front bar to reach the main venue. Stale beer, dried blood and a hint of urine were not my favorite odors.

  Thankfully, the rear section had some form of ventilation that kept the foul odors from settling. Only once had an overwhelming smell of blood assaulted me, when one of the local packs was holding an Alpha challenge. Bot
h the current Alpha and the Challenger had died that night, requiring more challenges to sort out the mess.

  As I walked across to the bar, Jimmy, the bald-headed barkeep and owner, waved me over, unexpected cheer on his face. He was the main reason I was safe here. He'd spread the word about the curse. In a strange way, being cursed with a century-long timeline by Alecto had given me a form of fear-driven protection. No one in their right mind wanted to end such a curse prematurely. To do so would cost them their lives, probably in a long, creative, and drawn-out process. The corollary being that their refusal to help me was driven by blinding terror.

  My relationship with Jimmy was mostly financial. I slipped him five hundred dollars under the table every month. He gave me possible candidates who might be willing to take on the curse. No guarantees — he just kept an eye out for people who might be willing to help me for the right price. Often the price wasn't money, but something more…esoteric.

  "New guy been coming in. Stared down Andre, made him back off,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Andre was the leader of the local pack. He was tough as nails and had taken my eldest under his wing. He also never backed down to a challenge, and his pack wasn't the one that had been messed up last year. Andre had supposedly taken down a Werebear. Being a wolverine in his other form, his victory was impressive, to say the least.

  "No one is sure how. Seems to be a vanilla like you, but can't be if he managed that. Should be here in half an hour. I'll warn you, he comes in with half a skinful. Not the cleanest smelling fella either.” There was a hint of disgust in his voice, but he continued with amusement. “He's got some kinda death-wish by the looks of him and those that see it stay well away. A Demon was trying to corrupt a young Sorcerer here last week. Somehow this fellow, Anslem, got the fucker out of here. I've never seen anything like it." He grinned at me, "By far the best candidate for what you want I've seen here."

  Technically, Sorcerers ranked below Vampires on the supernatural scale. A talented Sorcerer could be as powerful as a full Wizard. Most were just dabblers. Heck, technically every priest you meet is a minor Sorcerer, the hypocrites. The sin of Simony be damned.

  Those rituals they use? The ones to turn wine into the blood of Christ and bread to the body of Christ? Minor magic and symbolism, used to create a link between all the parishioners and make them a form of community battery. The church mostly does this to prevent magic users from drawing on members of the church as energy sources, but it has been used for other purposes in the past. Having people linked in that way allows you to influence their emotions and their reactions. Once I’d realized that, I found the thought of going to church disturbing. Communion would allow a priest far more influence over someone who knew sorcery than a normal.

  A Sorcerer's biggest weakness is their reliance on ritual magic. I should know—I've been learning the path of the Sorcerer for a while. After any working, I made sure I cleansed my aura. I did not want to come across as someone who was more than a vanilla human. Not after some of the things I'd seen existing in the Supernatural world. I feared that showing I had talent in that area would make me a target, despite the curse. The thought of beings and practices caused me some occasional flashes of irrational terror. There are things about the supernatural world that you can’t unsee.

  "Can you send him to me when he gets here?" I thought for a moment, considering the best way to attract a drunk. Ick. The things I do. "Tell him I'll cover his tab for the night if he'll just give me a half hour of his time."

  Jimmy nodded and held out his hand. I passed across a couple of green notes to the barman. Two hundred would at least cover the first few drinks, no matter how top shelf the guy went.

  I waited patiently, and Jimmy brought me my current favorite drink. A double Irish single malt whiskey served on the rocks. Somewhat more literally than most places, it was served over chilled granite cubes. I sipped it lightly as I waited. The rich, peaty odor and flavor of the whiskey was a balm for my troubles, but not one I could indulge too often.

  I noticed several Weres, all of whom I recognized from their association with my son, moved to a nearby table. It seemed like the pack had decided, finally, to make a statement about protecting the entire family, not just him. I appreciated the gesture but waved them away. I had no idea of any prejudices the man I was about to meet might have. Two of them nodded and left, but the third stayed put. I sighed. That meant it was an order that they stand representative of the pack’s statement. I was likely to have a shadow from the pack for the next couple of months. I'd have to talk to Andre about that.

  I was about halfway through my drink when he arrived. A Siren had started performing on one of the stages and almost everyone had shifted towards her. She was a good singer, I'll grant you, but having a daughter who was also a Siren had made me immune to her ability. That annoyed my daughter no end. Considering the reaction she received at school as puberty hit and her ability manifested, I now home schooled her. Thankfully, the entire family was immune. Something to do with being blood relatives, no matter what the curse twisted as my children grew inside me, we were all still blood related.

  It also gave me some protection from other Sirens.

  I cursed as I saw a man fitting the description Jimmy had given enter the room. He wasn't going to want to talk to me with a Siren present. To my surprise he spoke with Jimmy while his drink was poured and once it was in his hand he headed over to me. The sour smell of an alcoholic hit me as he sat down. I had to take shallow breaths to stay near him.

  "Jimmy said you wanted some of my time. It's not worth what it'll cost you, but sure. I still can't figure out how a normal like you made it to the back area, though." He looked at me closely.

  I sighed. If he couldn't tell why, then he was drunk so often that he'd stunted any abilities he might have.

  As I went to wave him off, he grunted. "I've seen that sort of work before. Was somewhat in Limbo at the time, too. Saw how it was broken. The curse I saw was much more a brute force thing though. The one on you is…more subtle, but stronger. Who’d you piss off so I can at least research before I say yes or no to what you want?"

  I was a bit shaken at that. Either he wasn't as drunk or as confirmed an alcoholic as it seemed, or he was something I'd never encountered. The latter seemed most likely. I'd only spent eight years seeing past what most people could—or wanted to—see. I'll admit I found it fascinating, but I knew I was still a neophyte in that world.

  With a deeper breath, which I soon regretted, I said, "Alecto. But all I want is someone who can take me to see her. I've tried,"—frustration tinged my voice—"but I can't find her hometown. Her grandson told me that if I brought someone more Supernatural than I am with me, I'd be able to find the place. He was unwilling to take me. I understand why, I mean she is one of the original Furies. But…"

  He stared at me, the expression on his face completely unreadable. He rubbed his right shoulder with a wince. I heard a muttered, “Couldn’t be, could it? If it is…” Slowly he cleared his throat, and speaking more clearly, asked a question. "This grandson of hers, what does he call himself?"

  "The Mongrel."

  A slow smile crossed his face. "Yes. Oh yes. I'll help you find Alecto, and if she refuses to aid you we'll find another way to get the curse removed. If it costs everything I am, I'll do it. To complete a task he refused to take…"A mad fire burned behind his eyes and he knelt on one knee before me.

  In a formal sounding voice he said "I, Anslem, swear to help you in your goal, by any means it might require, to advise you to the best of my knowledge, and guard you until it is achieved." He crushed the glass that had been holding his drink in his hand, then picked out shards of glass from the wounds, until his blood ran. It was strange, a dark red with glittering points in it. I didn’t think they were glass. It also smelt somehow sweet, not the bitter coppery odor blood usually had. "I swear on my blood, it will be done." He finished.

  I looked at him incredulously. "What?
I am happy to pay you. You didn't need to swear a blood oath."

  He shook his head, the mad glitter in his eyes still. "No, by completing a task The Mongrel would not, I will be able to stand before my father someday, rather than remain a failure in his eyes."

  I blanched at that. Was he some kind of Abrahamic Supernatural? That was the last thing I needed. I got up as if to run, but he gently held my arm. "My father lives in a cave in the Middle East."

  My panic drained, and relief flowed color back into my body. That didn't sound like a fanatical Abrahamic nut job of some sort. Probably. If he'd said ‘in Heaven,’ then I'd have touched him with a small silver ring on my other hand. No thing enjoyed it when I used that ring. It took days to charge it though, so not having to use it was a relief.

  He released my arm and looked over himself. His face flushed and he said, "Might I request that you aid me in a place to clean myself up…and perhaps some clean clothes?"

  I smiled. "We'll sort it out at the guest house. And what I need to pay you." He opened his mouth to object, but I cut him off. "I made mistakes that led to me being cursed. I won't make them again. If I don't pay someone sworn to my service when I have the resources to, that would be a mistake." He looked at me carefully. Then slowly, grudgingly, he nodded.

  Chapter 2

  I lay in bed contemplating my past and how to travel forward in my life.

  Over the years I had discovered that money was at best a useful tool. Having been cursed by Alecto, who happened to be one of the original three Furies, meant that money was of no use to me in solving that problem. No one wanted to cross her. The only one willing to offer me any aid after my fifth child was born an Imp was The Mongrel, whom I later found out is her grandson. He helped me foster my fifth son. Even he wasn’t willing to push his aid beyond a certain limit. He wouldn’t even try to break the curse. Apparently he had a soft spot for Imps, but he felt even finding foster parents for my other children would be seen as meddling too much by his granny, Alecto.