Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) Page 19

  I grabbed her arm. "Whoa, whoa, wait! I'm not getting naked with you. What are you doing?"

  Her forehead wrinkled in surprise, as if I'd just asked her why grass didn't scream when you walked on it. "Your clothes will be ruined if you leave them on. I can, of course, control my manifestation, but I also wished to show you my full form. I just purchased this dress on sale, and am not about to ruin it."

  I could only stare incredulously at her.

  She returned an indignant glare. "Just because I have money doesn't mean I spend it foolishly. I refuse to feel guilty for bargain hunting." She motioned at my clothes. "At the very least, strip down to your underwear. I know how smitten you are with that Templar girl of yours, and how brainwashed you are by human values of love and sex. I will respect your corrupted notions."

  Since I'd already wrecked a perfectly good pair of jeans and one of my favorite shirts in the fight with Bigglesworth and subsequent spontaneous manifestation against Zagg, I relented, and stripped to my boxer briefs.

  Vallaena removed every last stitch of her clothing and folded it neatly into her purse. She pulled a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra from within, slipping them on. They hung loose from her frame, though I figured it was by design.

  She knelt, examining the black stain on my calf where the vampling fangs had penetrated the skin. The wounds still looked puckered and fresh. I noticed a scrape on my leg I must have sustained the night before. It wasn't severe, but I usually healed within minutes of an injury. The blood seemed to have clotted, but my blighted skin wasn't healing. Blackened veins ran up through my thigh, vanishing past the hem of my boxer-briefs. Either the potion wasn't working, or trauma accelerated the curse's spread.

  Vallaena traced the dark veins up my leg with a fingernail.

  "Hey, now," I said, dancing back. "No touching, please."

  She shook her head. "How could the foreseeance be wrong?"

  I realized she was talking about Foreseeance 4311. "Foreseeances can be wrong," I said.

  Vallaena gave me a sad panda face. "Justin, at the rate the curse is spreading, you will not survive the month."

  My heart seemed to stop dead. My back muscles knotted. It took a moment before I could speak, and even then my words sounded hoarse with tension. "Guess I'd better learn fast then." She had to be wrong. But what if she wasn't?

  My aunt murmured something to herself, and shook her head. Looking up at me, she said, "There may be one cure."

  A little flutter of hope started my heartbeat again. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Why didn't you say something earlier?"

  She stood, looking me in the eye. "Because it is next to impossible to find."

  I didn't like the sound of that. "How hard?"

  Vallaena took both of my hands, and squeezed them. "Justin, you must eat the heart of an angel."

  Chapter 25

  I nearly choked on my own tongue. "Eat the heart of a freaking angel? How am I supposed to do that?"

  "As I said, it is nearly impossible."

  Jerking my hands from hers, I backed up a step. "Okay, let's say I kidnap Daelissa, cut out her heart, and eat it. What makes you think it'll cure anything? It might just give me indigestion."

  She pressed a hand to her chest. "Our hearts are where we store our powers, our emotions, our very core."

  "No, all that stuff comes from our brains. And I don't think I could eat any kind of brains, not even from an animal." I made a gagging noise. "That's just gross."

  "True," she said with a nod. "Our brains process what we do, but it all passes through the heart. When our kind feeds, we channel essence through our hearts. Angels feed in much the same way, though they winnow the essence into purer forms, dissecting the spectrum between dark and light."

  "How does this mean eating a heart would cure me?" I asked.

  Vallaena steepled her fingers. "Because Brightlings created the vampling curse, they are immune to it. Eating a heart would channel their pure essence into you and cleanse you."

  "Are you sure this isn't a crazy myth?" I said, shaking my head. "Angel hearts sound like something you'd find in the canned pasta aisle in a grocery store, for crying out loud."

  "Let me give you a history lesson, nephew," Vallaena said. "Many eons ago, our people joined with the Darklings to combat the Brightlings. The enemy used curses against us, some more terrible than the vampling curse. Though the Darklings had some defense against these attacks, the Daemos had no such immunity. One of our infected warriors embarked on a suicide mission to kill a Seraphim. He succeeded. As he lay dying from his wounds and a curse, he ate the angel heart as a final insult."

  Gross! I shuddered at the thought of eating a raw heart.

  Vallaena continued. "According to the legend, it healed him completely, mind, body, and soul." She gave me a pointed look. "If this story is not simply legend, it means an angel heart could cure you. And you are our last hope, Justin."

  I scratched my chin. "Gee, that sounds like a line from a movie."

  She scowled. "Do not make light of this. If you die, our chances for defeating Daelissa and the Brightlings dims considerably. They will enslave mortals and Daemos alike."

  And take away the power you crave. I threw up my hands. "No pressure, huh, Vallaena? Good lord, you're going to give me anxiety attacks with talk like that." I blew out a breath. "Look, you may be right. If I happen to get my hands on Daelissa, I'll be sure to eat her heart, okay?"

  "There is another possibility." Her eyes narrowed. "The one they call Nightliss."

  "Oh, hell no, woman. If you think for a minute I'd hurt her, you need your head examined."

  "But what if she were to sacrifice herself for you?" Vallaena said. "She could save you. Save us all."

  I slashed the air with my hand. "End. Of. Discussion." I really hated to separate all my words with a period but my dear aunt needed to receive the message loud and clear. "I will die before I do anything to harm her."

  Vallaena sighed long and deep. "You're so melodramatic at times."

  "And you're bat-poo crazy sometimes." I offered her a tight smile. "Now, can we get back to demonology one-oh-one?"

  Her typical cool demeanor returned. "Very well. Let us begin."

  Then she punched me in the stomach.

  I doubled over, and felt the air rush from my lungs as my legs left the ground. I flew backward through the air, landing on a jagged rock that cut into my bare skin. I cried out in pain. Rage flushed my skin with heat. Vallaena was on top of me before I could get up, her body a blur of motion. She punched me on the bridge of my nose. Stars burst into my eyes. When they cleared, I saw Vallaena leap to her feet, a sneer on her face.

  I managed to climb to my feet. "What the hell you stupid—" I forgot my next words.

  My aunt's skin shifted to a cold shade of blue. Beneath it, coils of muscle writhed, bulged, and grew. She went from average height to over six feet, as curving ebony horns grew from her head like plants growing in a time-lapse video, blonde hair lengthening until it hung halfway down her back. Instead of turning into a monstrous clawed creature of death, she stopped. Her breasts bulged against the athletic bra, while her hips and bottom filled out the yoga pants with tantalizing curves. She looked every inch like a seductive queen of pain.

  "I will tear out your heart," she said, baring white teeth, and growling before lunging at me.

  I ducked under her first thrust, and punched her stomach. She grabbed me by the neck, and slammed me to earth with a solid thud. In a blur, she straddled me. Gripped my underwear with one hand. "You won't even want your puny girlfriend after I'm done having my way with you."

  The awe and fear at her unexpected attack melted in an instant. "Nobody but Elyssa will ever experience that," I said and let the rage burn through my veins. The demon burst from its cage. I roared in pain as I felt that part of me claw its way free. My body shuddered, muscles swelled. Pinpoints of pressure in my forehead exploded in pure agony as horns burst from my skull.


  "And, hold it there!" Vallaena said, abruptly leaping from my chest and jerking me to my feet by my hand.

  I lost my hold on the rage as confusion sucker-punched me in the brain. "What?" I said, my voice a mix of its usual timbre and menacing, guttural depth. I stood slightly taller than my aunt. Blue and peach tones splotched my skin. My right leg bulged with muscles while the other wasn't quite as pumped up, causing me to stand a little lopsided, and my right arm looked just as scrawny by comparison. The demonic force inside me pressed and fought against my will, demanding I let it break free. I pushed back, against the pain, barely managing to hold it off.

  "I would apologize for the attack," Vallaena said, "but it was the fastest way to make you lose control and release your spirit."

  "You wanted to make me angry." I staggered as my demon side surged against my will.

  She shook her head. "We exist in two worlds, Justin. We are corporeal, but we are also spiritual. That part of us exists in the demon realm. When you lose your temper, you lose control over your spirit. This is one reason why you manifest without wanting to."

  "We're possessed by demons?"

  "No, we are the demon, and the demon is us. We are one and the same, but coexisting in two different realms. It is both our strength and our weakness. Our physical bodies require food. Our spiritual nature requires essence from other living beings." She took my hand, and turned it palm up.

  I looked at my hand, at the blue skin, the black fingernails. It remained human in shape, but huge.

  "One part of your spirit wants to be free to do as it wishes. The other part understands control and restraint, Justin. It has a conscience. This is the first step in learning to control that dual nature."

  "Brings a whole new meaning to free spirited," I said, looking at my half-morphed form. "But I'm a bit off kilter."

  She smiled, her perfect white teeth contrasting with her blue skin. "You will learn."

  And then the lessons began in earnest. For the next couple of hours, she forced me to lose control again and again, stopping me just before I went completely berzerk. Thankfully, it didn't involve grabbing my underwear.

  After practice, I went back to the dorm room. I saw Shelton munching on a large pizza while Cinder observed him from a seat. I grabbed a piece and inhaled it. "Man, that is so good," I moaned.

  Cinder's eyes met mine. "I think it would be interesting to eat food."

  "You don't need to eat at all?" I asked.

  "I require neither food nor sleep, though I can process food if I wish. But I only sense the textures, and none of the flavor, so it is a wasted exercise. I believe the emotion I feel at this inability would be called depression."

  "This is the part where you sigh," I told him, and demonstrated a sad sigh.

  Cinder mimicked me almost perfectly but still didn't come across in a very convincing manner. I grabbed another piece, and let out another moan of pleasure.

  "Justin," Cinder said, retrieving his phone from the inner pocket of his gray suit jacket. "When you were whining the other day—"

  "Whining? I don't whine."

  Cinder tilted his head ever so slightly. "Is not whining a nasal or complaining sound? Or to snivel and complain in a peevish self-pitying way?"

  Shelton laughed. "He's got a point."

  I pursed my lips and gave Cinder a dirty look.

  He stared back without blinking.

  "Yes, fine, okay, I guess I do whine sometimes." I took a bite of pizza and spoke with my mouth full. "What was your point?"

  "As I was saying, when you were whining the other day about how often you are forced to repeat your history, I decided it might be appropriate to make a transcript. I took the liberty of recording your words with my phone, and transcribed it into a document." He pushed his phone across to me, and I skimmed over the text. It was dry and to the point, but was, essentially, a synopsis of my crazy life since discovering I was an incubus.

  "This is why I love you, Cinder," I said, scrolling down the document.

  Cinder cocked his head slightly. "Do you feel romantically toward me, or is this an indication of agape love?" he asked, his voice never wavering in pitch.

  Shelton's drink sprayed from his mouth.

  I woke up extra early the next morning and purchased my school books. Even with a book and most of my mental faculties intact, Ms. Crab still treated me like a moron. The remaining classes were much the same as before, with Zagg's class being my favorite. The man had a way of telling stories, like a bard with a magic staff. Ivy wasn't at lunch, much to my disappointment, so I joined Morgana and made small talk, trying to figure out why she avoided other students. My gentle prying yielded nothing but her shrinking further into a shell.

  After classes, I met with Vallaena again for a daily dose of Demonic 101. By the time I ate supper, I was ready for night-night beddy-bye time. I checked my phone for the umpteenth time that day, hoping Elyssa had finally messaged me. Instead, I found only a little stab of disappointment at the blank notification screen.

  The rest of the week rolled by, each day absolutely stuffed to the gills with instructional work and even homework. I kept an eye out for my sister, but didn't see her once. I wondered if she'd gotten in trouble for going to lunch that one day, and worried about her. Morgana asked about her every day, never failing to look sad when she didn't show.

  When Friday afternoon arrived, a buoyant sense of relief lightened my heart at the thought of a free weekend. Even Vallaena's attempts to make me lose control had less effect than usual. After my lessons with her, I practically skipped back to the dorm. The usual exhaustion had melted away in the face of the immense amount of chill time I planned to enjoy.

  My phone buzzed with a message, and my heart danced. I nearly dropped the phone trying to view the message. But it wasn't from Elyssa. It was from Meghan.

  Justin, Nightliss wants to see you. She's not doing well.

  Worry shattered the relief, and weighed my heart like lead. I showed Shelton the message, and his eye twitched.

  "You're telling me the main weapon in our arsenal is still sick?" he said.

  I nodded. "Sounds like it."

  We took the shuttle down to the arch station the next morning. Apparently, the Gloom cracks weren't a public menace anymore, because people lined up to take the Obsidian Arch. Shelton saw the line and groaned. He motioned me to follow him, and we made our way around to the control room where we found the Arcane operators. Using our fake Darkwater story, we convinced the operator to let us go through next.

  "So I hear you guys got the small arch back at the Grotto working," the operator said as he escorted us outside.

  I almost let surprise show on my face before catching it, and nodding. Shelton never missed a beat, giving the man a calm shrug.

  "What exactly did you hear about it?" he asked, a look of suspicion on his face.

  The operator's face creased in concern. "Uh, just that it was working, but they hadn't sent anyone live through it yet."

  Shelton nodded. "Might be best kept to yourself." He waved his hand between him and me. "We're around to make sure info doesn't leak. You come to us with anything else. And don't tell anyone about us. Understand?"

  "Y-yes sir." The operator bobbed his head up and down. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

  Shelton clapped him on the back. "Hey, no problem. We're not as bad as the old man, if you know what I mean. If we can warn people to stay quiet before you-know-who finds out, then everyone is better off."

  The man seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Good." He went to open the door, and hesitated. "I did hear one other thing from an operator back at the Grotto. He said the Gloom fractures were caused by the work they were doing on the smaller arch, but they think they figured out how to keep it from happening again."

  "That is definitely something you want to keep on the down-low," Shelton said, giving the man a sly wink. "The public would freak if they knew."

  "I will. And I'll be sure to let you kno
w if I hear anything else."

  "Tell the others, too." He gave the man his number, and we left.

  "Being a fake Darkwater employee has benefits," I said as we waltzed directly to the arch, waited for it to flicker on, and stepped through to the Grotto.

  Shelton and I emerged on the other side, both of us braced to combat any Gloom fractures the moment we set foot on the polished stone floor. Thankfully, the operator's theory about the Gloom fractures seemed to hold true. Minders still patrolled the perimeter around the arch, their creepy forms drifting uncomfortably close as we left the striped safety zone line around the arch.

  We found Shelton's car still in its parking slot, and took it to Meghan's house.

  "I'm so glad you're here," the Arcane healer said, a tired note in her voice. She brushed a lock of blonde hair from her face and waved us to follow her in.

  The moment I stepped inside, I smelled something. The odor wasn't unpleasant exactly, but it reminded me of an old-folks home and baby powder. My insides tightened at the thought. Meghan showed us to a bedroom where a small form lay beneath heavy blankets. I walked up to the bed, disbelief warring with sorrow as I looked upon the gaunt face surrounded by tangles of black hair streaked with gray.

  Meghan took my hand, and looked me in the eye. "Justin, she's dying. I don't think she has much longer."

  Chapter 26

  "Nightliss?" I said, my voice cracking with pain. Her cheeks looked hollow, and her eyes sunken.

  The angel's eyelids fluttered open, and blinked a few times before her eyes found me. "Justin?" She struggled to pull an arm from beneath the covers.

  I pulled back the cover to help, and gasped when I saw the loose skin and bones of her arm. "What's wrong with her?" I asked Meghan, my voice sounding plaintive.

  "Daelissa's curse," Meghan said from the doorway. "I thought I'd removed it all, but apparently it was beyond my ability. I only gave her a slow wasting away instead of a fast death."

  "It is okay," Nightliss said, her voice sounding like an old lady's. She smiled, but her bony, protruding cheeks looked gruesome. She made the poster child for anorexia look fleshy by comparison.