Fallen Angel of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #3)

I'd expected him to at least tense up or look a little angrier. But aside from the sharp violet glare from his eyes, he still looked very calm and composed. Which made him seem all the scarier. In fact, he kind of reminded me of someone else I'd met. Whoever it was lingered right on the tip of my brain but didn't quite drop into place.

"Unfortunately, you have to be friends with my sister."

My eyebrows almost shot through the roof. "I have to be?"

"Foreseeance four, three, one, one."

I groaned. "Next thing you know I'll need prophecy to tell me when I can wipe my butt."

For the briefest second, I could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Just watch yourself, spawn. If you try anything with my sister, I won't kill you, but I'll make you wish you were dead."

That did it. Before I'd turned into demon boy, I'd been a nerd. A kid who'd enjoyed live-action roleplaying, had B-cup man boobs, and glasses half an inch thick. I'd been bullied. A lot. I wasn't about to let the supernatural equivalent of Nathan Spelman enter my life and push me around, especially when it came to the girl I loved.

I walked up to him, nose to nose—or more like nose to chin since he stood a few inches taller—and poked him in the chest with a grubby finger. "How about this, Michael? You don't ever tell me what I can or can't do again, and I won't go Bruce Lee on your oversized ass."

He arched an eyebrow. Turned and left the room.

I stood there for a few second, wondering if I'd just won the argument, or ticked him off even more. The guy didn't react normally, at least not by any pissing match standards I knew. Meghan entered and almost ran into me. She gasped, putting a hand to her heart.

"You scared me half to death," she said, shaking her head and pulling out a wand.

"This isn't even my scary face." I crossed one eye. "This is."

She laughed. "If anything it makes me less frightened and more sympathetic." Taking a seat next to Vadaemos, she ran her wand an inch above his body, back and forth.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking the level of tranquilizer toxins in his body." She flicked the wand up and smoky numbers hovered in the air. "Can you hand me those sleepers from the white bag with purple flowers on it?"

I located the duffel bag she spoke of and pulled out a pair of the plastic-looking cuffs. I'd seen Shelton use them before on vampires, and they worked like a charm, keeping the prisoner unconscious until removed. I wondered if they were strong enough to keep someone from breaking them, but figured it was a moot point, considering the unconscious factor.

Meghan cuffed Vadaemos and his troubled, shallow breathing morphed into the peace of deep slumber. Even though he was out, she didn't remove the diamond fiber straps from his arms. I didn't blame her.

"What's this?" she said, tugging a slim piece of old parchment paper from the pocket of what remained of Vadaemos's shredded pants. She unfolded it to reveal what looked like a map.

"May I?" I said.

"Sure. I don't want it." She handed it to me.

I unfolded it. It wasn't very large. There were no labels I could find to indicate what it mapped or who'd made the map. It occurred to me Vadaemos might have some kind of fancy magical map he'd been using for plotting his dastardly deeds, so it merited further study at some point, should the army of evil ever give me a vacation. For now, I needed some rest.

I turned for the door. "Are you sure you're not going to kill Vadaemos the minute I go outside?" Despite her earlier assurances, it didn't seem likely she could refrain from doing something awful to him while he slept.

"I promised Michael. Keeping him alive is for the greater good. For now."

Smith walked in. He smiled at me, but I could tell something was bugging him from the concern in his eyes.

"What's been happening since I left?" I said. "I need to know the truth about my father and where he is."

"Your father is fine," Smith said, his smile wavering for a moment before flattening. "Maximus's vampires overran Shelton's old hideout, but Felicia warned them in advance and they escaped."

"Is that why you look so worried?"

"Yeah. I can't stop thinking about her."

I'd forgotten about Felicia, his vampire sister. Smith was a very gifted Arcane. His younger sister, not so much. In fact, she hadn't been graced with magical talents of any kind. When their parents were murdered, Smith had become obsessed with finding the truth, while Felicia had gone off the deep end with drugs, alcohol, and anything else she could lay her hands on. Then she'd met Maximus. He'd turned her into a vampire—or someone affiliated with him had, since Maximus wasn't old enough to have that ability.

Not so long ago, she'd helped kidnap my father. I'd freed Dad, but run into Felicia again. She'd told me she wanted to turn over a new leaf. And then she'd run straight back to Maximus. Except this time, she'd supposedly gone undercover to spy on him.

"Tell me," I said.

"She couldn't reach you, so she called me and let me know about her spying on Maximus."

I grimaced. "I told her to give it up and come back, but she wouldn't."

The wrinkles on his brow deepened. "I know. She won't listen to me either. Says she has a lot to make up for."

"That much is true," I said, folding my arms and leaning against the wall. "But she's still your sister."

He sat on the edge of a bed. "I love her and hate her."

I knew that mixed-up feeling all too well thanks to my mother. I guess we both had abandonment issues. "Did she have anything interesting to report?"

He nodded. "Max has been a busy beaver. He's got recruiters all over the country."

I'd heard this before from Underborn. And according to Franco, the vampiric drug runner, Maximus was active in other countries as well. This was big. Too big. Maybe once I turned Vadaemos over to Thomas Borathen, he could set aside his war on spawn and concentrate on rogue vampires instead.

I pushed off the wall and put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Smith."

He chuckled. "I'm going by Adam now."

"Oh?"

Meghan took his hand and flashed a pretty smile. "I told him I wasn't dating anyone named Mr. Smith. Makes me think of that talking horse show my dad used to love."

"I think that's Mr. Ed," Smith—Adam said.

"You two are?" I looked back and forth. Smith—darn it—Adam had a smooth tongue when it came to women, even if he looked a bit gawky and nerdy. Meghan was cute, if a bit unbalanced and teetering on crazy scary at times due to her hatred of spawn. But maybe they would make a good couple.

"We are," he said, patting her hand and grinning from ear to ear.

"Congratulations!" I said. "Welcome to the family."

"Are we part of your family now?" Adam asked, laughing.

"Yep. The great menagerie of friends and family I've made along the rocky road I call life." I peeked outside through the blinds and saw Bella and the others from Colombia trailing wearily after Michael as he led them to an adjacent room. "In fact, I think I added a few more while I was down south."

"You do have that effect on people," Meghan said. "I really wanted to hate you because of your heritage, but I just couldn't. Not after all you've done for me."

I gave them both a smile and put my hand on the doorknob. "Take good care of the prisoner," I said. "Not that I'll complain if he's missing his balls in the morning."

Adam burst into laughter. Meghan looked scandalized. I winked and stepped outside, closing the door behind me. Michael directed Bella and Fausta into a room while a little further down I saw Pokito and Curtis unlocking a door. The big Templar approached me and pressed a key into my hand.

"You're at the end."

"How generous." I noticed a scantily clad woman emerge from a room right next to mine and light a cigarette. A rugged looking guy with a beer belly and a tattoo—presumably of his mother—on his cheek came out, pressed some cash into her hand, and rode away on a Harley. I gave Michael a disgusted look. "Are you paying for our rooms by the hour?"

His lip twitched.

"You smiled," I said.

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

His eyes narrowed. Then he turned and walked away.

I glanced about for any sign of Elyssa, but figured she had to be in the same room with Fausta and Bella. My heart sank a bit. I'd really wanted to talk to her. She'd actually kissed me during our little escapade beneath El Dorado. I'd hoped to use that momentum for my own selfish gain. But now we were back in civilization, and her brother was around. Oh well. I turned back toward my room at the lonely end of the row, right next door to the lady of the night. She had the haggard look of someone who'd played the game of life and lost at every turn, no doubt due to subpar decision-making skills.

The decor inside my room was identical to Meghan's, right down to the old-school, nineteen-inch television and circa nineteen-forties rotary phone in a shade of green usually reserved for hospital bathrooms. The cheap laminate furniture looked like it belonged back in the sixties. The overwhelming odor of deodorizer barely covered the stench of decades' worth of cigarette smoke, made worse thanks to my supernatural sense of smell.

Now I knew how dogs must feel when they sniff each other's butts.

I closed the door behind me and let loose a depressed sigh. I should be thankful for the big blessings now, I thought. Capturing Vadaemos was huge. Maybe this would help Elyssa come back into my life. Such rationalization didn't quite ease the knot of pain in my chest.

Someone knocked on my door. I opened it and saw Elyssa standing there, fury coiled on her face like a dragon.

I offered her a smile.

She punched me so hard I saw stars.

Chapter 33