Infernal Father of Mine

  Infernal Father of Mine

  Book Seven of the Overworld Chronicles

  John Corwin

  Copyright © 2014 by John Corwin.

  Digital eBook Edition.

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  LICENSE NOTES

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people unless expressly permitted by the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, Smashwords.com, or other digital ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  EVERYBODY HAS DADDY ISSUES

  Justin's reunion with his father starts with a punch to the face and their capture by Exorcists, a cult branch of the Templars supposedly disbanded centuries ago. The Exorcists banish Justin and his father, David, to the Gloom.

  Fighting to escape exile, Justin discovers everything he knows about his father is a lie. Even worse, the man is a complete jackass who won't give a straight answer to the simplest of questions. But when they stumble upon a secret army being grown by one of Daelissa's minions, they realize much more than a healthy father-son relationship is at stake.

  Justin and his father will have to escape the Gloom, bring back reinforcements, and crush the enemy before Daelissa marches her forces into the real world. Unfortunately, the army stands between them and freedom.

  Daddy issues will have to wait. The war starts now.

  To my wonderful support group:

  Alana Rock

  Karen Stansbury

  Pat Owens

  My amazing editors:

  Annetta Ribken

  Jennifer Wingard

  My awesome cover artist:

  Regina Wamba

  Thanks so much for all your help and input!

  Chapter 1

  On a bright sunny day in the middle of a small cemetery, I punched my dad in the face.

  David Slade staggered back a foot before recovering his balance. He rubbed his jaw. Grinned. "I suppose that wasn't the answer you wanted."

  Breathing heavily, rage building inside, I stared at this man, unable to believe he was the same man who'd raised me. The same man who'd rented movies and bought pizza every Friday for family night. The same man who'd thrown baseballs and footballs with me despite my pre-supernatural clumsiness. The same man who'd once so gently kissed my mother.

  I'd saved Mom from Daelissa. My long-lost little sister, Ivy, had left the Conroys and was now living with me and Mom. My family was so close to complete in a way it had never been before. And still this man insisted on abandoning us.

  "Does this mean you won't come to the wedding?" my father asked.

  Jackass. Somehow, I pushed back the anger. "Let me get this straight. I just told you Mom and Ivy are living with me in Queens Gate. Your family is waiting, and you're just ignoring us?"

  David leaned against a tombstone. When I'd asked for a meeting, he'd chosen a tiny cemetery trapped between two new high-rise condominiums in Buckhead. The unfinished buildings loomed on either side, all gray concrete and rebar. "When you reached out to me about reconciling, I knew it was a bad idea. Does your mother know about this meeting?"

  I shook my head. "No, but Ivy does. We were hoping to surprise Mom."

  He crossed his arms. "You should have asked Alysea first. There are bigger things at stake here than just a happy family reunion."

  "Bigger stakes?" I threw up my hands. "What have you been doing the past few months that could be more important than reuniting with your family?" The last time I'd seen him had been just after Vadaemos Slade escaped from Templar custody with the help of Daelissa and nearly killed me. It hadn't been more than a few months ago, but the man I faced now seemed completely different.

  "Justin, do you think you can beat Daelissa's forces as things stand?" David's expression turned serious. "She practically owns the vampires, the Synod Templars, and probably a good portion of the Arcane Council."

  I wanted to be an optimist, but couldn't. "Probably not. Right now it's just my friends and the Templars under Thomas Borathen's command." I narrowed my eyes. "What's your point?"

  "What I'm doing isn't for me. It's for you too."

  My blood pressure spiked. "What a load of bull. You're still betraying Mom to marry Kassallandra, that red-headed demonic ho-bag."

  "I knew you weren't ready for this," David said. His amused grin returned. "I guess I'm expecting too much from an eighteen-year-old."

  My teeth clenched. "I'm nineteen." This man isn't my father. He's a stranger, and he doesn't give a crap. I'd held such high hopes for this meeting. Buoyed by having Ivy and Mom back, it had seemed so simple to convince my father to come home. After Mom abandoned my father and me to live with the Conroys and Ivy, I'd thought David's entire reason for marrying Kassallandra was some kind of payback. Now I wasn't so sure about his motives at all.

  My fists clenched as I fought back anger. "Mom says she can't tell me about you. About how you really met. I want to know the truth."

  He pursed his lips. "Are you sure?"

  "Don't you think I deserve it?"

  A smile flickered across David's face.

  "What's so funny?"

  "I suppose it depends on whether you'd view the truth as punishment or reward, son."

  "Don't call me that," I said. "You haven't even come close to earning the right to call me your son again."

  He put up his hands in a surrender gesture. "I get it, son—Justin. I'd just hoped maybe what you'd been through had evolved your way of thinking."

  "Not when it comes to family, David."

  "Fair enough." He crossed his arms and watched me without offering more.

  I crossed my arms. "The truth. Please."

  "I am not, strictly speaking, a man." He paused, as if letting that sink in.

  "Um, ok. You're Daemos, so of course you're not human."

  David grinned. "Perhaps I should have phrased that a little better."

  Something flickered in my peripheral vision. I looked up at the towering concrete structure to my right.

  David followed my gaze. "What is it?"

  "I thought—" A human silhouette appeared next to a support beam. Whoever it was seemed to know I knew he was there, because he didn't move from our line of sight.

  "Did you bring along your Templar friends to watch your back?" David asked.

  I shook my head. "Elyssa promised she wouldn't follow. Commander Borathen wouldn't send anyone without asking."

  "Which means—"

  "Yeah, we're about to have a situation."

  The watcher's arm catapulted forward. Something flashed in the sun. We jumped back as a silver disc landed on the grass between us. The grass sizzled and hissed. Bright orange light flashed, smoke rising from charred vegetation, forming a perfect circle crisscrossed by blackened lines. The silver disc vanished.

  "I think this is the situation you mentioned," David said. "Time to go."

  The two of us raced toward the low stone wall at the back of the cemetery—or tried to. Before we'd gone two feet, we both bounced back from the edge of the circle.

>   "A sense of déjà vu just hit me," David said, touching the air at the edge of the circle, unable to push through.

  My bounty hunter friend, Harry Shelton, had once tried to bring in my father. He'd trapped us in a simple magical circle designed to contain demon spawn. Because of my angel side, however, I'd been able to leave the circle.

  I pressed my hands to the invisible barrier. "I can't get out either."

  A group of hooded people filed from the small red brick church in front of the cemetery. Without a word, they made like a human train and encircled us while we watched, perplexed. They didn't look like Templars or act like Templars, and they sure as heck weren't dressed like any I'd seen before. If anything, they looked like monks.

  "Who are you?" I asked.

  A grim look passed over David's face. He touched my arm. Shook his head. "Exorcists."

  "From the Catholic Church?"

  "No. They used to be a division of the Templars, but some of them left to form their own cult."

  "We are not a cult, demon," said a man, his face hidden beneath the black hood, though the robe strained to conceal his generous paunch. "We cleanse humanity of your ilk."

  "You don't like demon spawn?" I asked. Stupid question, of course. Nobody seemed to like our kind. At least my friends had learned I was a kinder, gentler sort of demon spawn—all warm and fuzzy.

  "Is that my old friend I hear?" David said, the relaxed look on his face belying what felt like a dangerous situation.

  "I am no friend of yours, infernal creature," the man replied in an imperious British accent.

  David tutted. "Really now, Montjoy, is that the way to treat someone you've known for so long?"

  Who the hell is Montjoy? I clung to a brief hope David actually knew the guy and this was all some big misunderstanding.

  "Subdue them," Montjoy said.

  Hope faded, and smartassery took over. "Maybe someone should subdue your appetite," I said. "Or at least buy you a new robe." I thought I heard someone snicker, or maybe it was my imagination.

  "You would do well to keep your mouth shut, Justin Slade." The man pointed a meaty finger at me. Rings adorned every finger, each one crowned with large jewels, though one with a fat gray stone stood out from the rest. "It will go better for you if you do."

  "You mean I'll get candy and ice cream?" I said in a childlike voice. "Oh, gee, Mr. Montjoy, that would be swell!"

  That time, someone definitely snickered.

  "I'm curious. How did you know about this meeting?" David asked.

  "I have agents constantly watching for you," the Exorcist said with an evil smile. "When you left your haven alone, I knew this was my chance."

  David pursed his lips. "If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask. Some flowers would be nice, too."

  Someone in the group of Exorcists snorted.

  Montjoy's face went bright red. "I said subdue them!"

  Something stung me in the neck. I saw David's hand go to his at nearly the same time. A silver dart protruded from between his fingers.

  "Why is it always in the neck?" I managed to say before feeling my legs fold and the impact of grass against my side. David fell beside me, his eyes open and staring. I waited patiently for darkness to take hold, but consciousness remained. David blinked. I blinked back. I tried to open my mouth, to move a hand, a foot, a finger, but nothing responded. Even blinking took tremendous effort.

  A female voice chanted in what sounded like Cyrinthian. The black line in the entrapment circle faded away. Hands gripped me beneath my armpits and legs. My view shifted to the brilliant blue sky as our captors hauled me from the ground and set me atop something firm. Though I couldn't move my fingers, I felt fabric against my bare skin. Using all my concentration, I closed my eyes as they began to water from staring into the brightness.

  I felt myself move smoothly without the jarring bumps associated with a wheeled gurney. It was possible our captors had employed flying carpets or some other form of magical levitation.

  "This is risky," I heard someone whisper near my head.

  "Hush," said someone from the direction of my feet. "You know Montjoy hates it when we second-guess him."

  "But this is bloody David Slade," the man said. "He didn't say we'd be going after bloody David Slade."

  While both men had British accents, they didn't sound nearly as refined as Montjoy.

  "We do what we're told, you ruddy git. Now, shut it."

  The other man remained quiet. I heard car doors click open. Smelled the odor of stale cigarettes attack my olfactory senses. Heard doors slam shut. I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of a vehicle. A moment later, an engine roared to life, and the vehicle lurched into motion. I tried in vain to move my head. A bump in the road sent it lolling to the side for a view of the back of David's head where he lay on a plain gray rug—presumably a flying carpet. We were in the back of a van, judging from the size of the cargo space.

  What a happy family reunion.

  It had already been spoiled by my wonderful father's refusal to give up his marriage plans. Was I being obtuse by demanding he come back to Mom? Was it really so important he marry Kassallandra to create an alliance between House Slade and House Assad? It seemed the threat of a Seraphim invasion would be enough to unite anyone with common sense.

  Don't I have more important things to worry about now, like escape?

  Not much chance of that in our condition.

  Reaching inside for the infernal half of my soul lurking there, I tried to open its cage, hoping I could manifest into demon form. It was apparently as incapacitated as me. Elyssa's gonna be pissed when she finds out I'm in trouble again. Christmas was barely over and I'd already been captured by a cult. I probably should have waited until the new year before embarking on another adventure.

  After what felt like hours, we finally stopped. I heard the passenger and driver doors open and slam shut. The rear doors opened. A breeze wafted in, tickling the hairs on the back of my neck.

  My left pinky finger twitched.

  Hope bloomed in my chest. The drug is wearing off. I'd need a bit more than my pinky to get us out of this situation, though. I closed my eyes in anticipation of the sun as I felt the flying carpet I rested on rise and move into the open. Birds chirped somewhere, accompanied by the honking of horns not far away. It sounded like we were still in the city.

  Cracking open an eyelid, I saw a tall church of gray stone to the side. The carpet rotated and my head lolled to the left. A parking lot with several black SUVs came into view, bordered by a tall black iron fence embedded in a stone wall.

  Creepy monks. Creepy church. Great.

  We entered a door, glided through a hallway, and entered a large dim cathedral. Candles flickered from tall metal candelabras along the wall. We turned a corner and entered a sprawling semi-circular area in front of a choir loft. Metal cages to the left gleamed in the candlelight. A hand lunged for me from between the bars as the carpet drifted by, the filthy fingers so close, I felt the breeze of their passing. A man's face slammed against the bars hard enough to draw blood. He strained his grasping hand toward me, foam-flecked lips gibbering madly. Paralysis came in pretty handy right then because, otherwise, I would have crapped my britches.

  My bearers rotated the carpet and the center of the chancel came into view. The podium and table where the priest usually stood were absent. A thick silver circle at least fifty feet wide was embedded in the stone floor. Something even more shocking than caged humans met my paralyzed gaze. Two arches stood side-by-side in the center of the circle separated by about ten feet of stone floor. I'd seen arches before—shiny black arches used for traveling the globe, and arches veined with white used to travel between the mortal realm and the angel dimension. But these arches were unlike any I'd seen before. One was drab and gray. The other shined like a sapphire.

  What do they do?

  My inner nerd completely forgot the dire situation for a moment as possibilities ran through my mind. In
all my travels and adventures, I'd never heard of arches this color. Maybe the color didn't mean anything. Maybe the Exorcists had a really good interior decorator who'd grown tired of black and white arches. Unfortunately, I couldn't move my mouth to ask questions.

  "You got him, Montjoy?" someone said, excitement in their voice. "I can't believe it."

  "I told you he would eventually be mine," replied Montjoy. "It was only a matter of time before he left the haven of his household."

  "We were preparing for one of the other subjects. Would you like to do Slade first?"

  "I would be delighted," Montjoy replied. "I will lead the purging myself."

  "Who's the kid?" someone else asked.

  "His son," Montjoy said, spitting the last word with obvious distaste.

  A man's face came into view, a thick gray beard bristling from his chin. "He's spawn. We can't purge him."

  "No, I suppose not," Montjoy said. "He's an impetuous runt, though. I believe banishment would suit him fine."

  The fingers on my left hand clenched. My right hand joined the party. Come on, body. Don't fail me now.

  "What about House Slade?" someone else asked. "What if they find out we took him?"

  "They are of no concern to me." Montjoy appeared in my view. "Place David Slade in the circle."

  My carpet moved. Someone leaned down to my ear. "I'll let you watch," said one of the men from earlier. He sounded rather smug.

  I welcomed the surge of anger. I felt a growl attempt to rise in my throat, though it was hardly audible. My carpet stopped near the side of the large silver circle inlaid in the stone floor. I watched as they pushed David's carpet into the center.

  Why can they purge him but not me?

  It didn't make sense. We were both Daemos, our souls bound in human form, one half in the mortal realm, the other in the demon plane.