Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians (26 page)

BOOK: Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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I punched him in the arm before I started walking again. "Come on.
 
Let's go talk to Tim and get my stuff."

"What stuff?" he asked, keeping pace with me on my right.

"Just stuff."
 
For all I knew there were listening spells in this hallway, and I wasn't going to clue any of the council members in on what I was doing before I had to.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I GOT TO MY ROOM in record time.
 
I left Spike sitting on the couch and found Tim out in the garden regaling a few hundred pixies with stories of his adventures with the wild and crazy elemental, Jayne Blackthorne.

After a minute or so of standing in the entrance to the garden and listening to a bunch of garbage about how he single-handedly fended off a foaming buggane and saved fifty fae from certain death, I said, "Yo, Tim ... got a minute?"

"Of course, my liege!" he yelled before turning back to his audience.
 
"Important council business.
 
I'll see you all later.
 
You're going to love the story about how I saved our Mother from a demon at her mother's house."
 
He flew up from the flower throne he'd been resting his big toosh on and joined me in the sitting room.
 
"What's up, chicken butt?
 
Anything interesting?"

"Did you know about that party they had for me?"

"Yes, I heard about it, but I was busy with all my admirers.
 
It was hard to break away.
 
I was planning to be fashionably late.
 
You know how it is."

"Well, don't bother.
 
I'm not there anymore, and the food sucked."

He suddenly stopped inspecting his manicure.
 
"There was food?
 
No one said there was going to be food."

"Yeah, you know ... the usual," I said, acting all casual, pretending like I wasn't about to drop a bomb on him.
 
"But, oh yeah, they did have raspberries.
 
That was something different.
 
Pretty good too.
 
I had, like, fifty of 'em."

"Raspberries?!
 
They had
raspberries?!"
Tim's hands were now in prayer position.
 
"
Tell me they weren't fresh!
 
Tell me they were frozen!"

I shrugged as innocently as I could.
 
"I don't know the difference.
 
Are they fresh or frozen if they're all fat and juicy and kind of pop a little in your mouth ... oh and taste like they have sugar inside?"

Tim swooned in midair, and I caught him in the palm of my hand.
 
I had to speak through the laughter that bubbled up.
 
"I'm only kidding.
 
There wasn't any food."

Tim sat up immediately, scowling at me.
 
"Dirty pool, Lellamental."
 
He
 
scanned the room.
 
"Where's my son?
 
I suddenly find myself in the mood for some polly ball games."

"Forget my nostrils for a half a minute and listen up.
 
I'm going to the Underworld.
 
I need everything you've got about the posse that went ahead of me and how they got there."

Tim flew up out of my hand and hovered in front of my face, his hands on his hips.
 
"Jayne Middle-Name-I-Don't-Know Sparks Blackthorne ... what do you think you're doing?"

I walked around him into my bedroom, grabbing the backpack that I'd tossed to the side and bringing it over to my dresser.
 
"Nothing."
 
I pulled out a tunic, a pair of jeans, and a couple pairs of underwear, adding some extra hair bands for good measure.
 
I looked around my room for the empty water bottle that I'd spied on my side table earlier.
 
It was still there, so I snatched it up and filled it in the bathroom, Tim buzzing next to me the entire time.

"That's a lie," he accused.
 
"Tell me the truth.
 
You can't go.
 
It's a suicide mission."

I stopped in my tracks.
 
"What?!"

He backed up a little.
 
"Hey, watch the volume there, angel-plucker, I'm not the enemy."

I frowned, confused by my new nickname.
 
"What?"

"I'm serious.
 
As your roommate, and confidant ... as your father-figure and mentor ... as your rock star crush and unrequited love ... I cannot condone your going on this trip."

"You have no authority ..."
 

He zipped over and slapped me on the cheek. "Hey!
 
I wasn't done talking!
 
Don't sass me!"

I was so shocked, all I could do was just stare at him as he finished.

"As I was saying ... I cannot condone your going on this trip ...
without me."

My brain was going haywire trying to figure out what the hell he was saying.
 
"Are you ... ?"
 
I shook my head.
 
"No ... you're not ... "

"H to the E to the double L, yes I am too saying that I'm going!" whisper-yelled Tim feverishly.
 
"You can't leave me behind again!
 
Do you have any idea how I suffered?
 
The agony I was forced to endure?
 
The anguish of the unknown?
 
It was the single worst period of my life.
 
I almost drank myself to death!
 
Did you know that I ingested an entire vat of fermented blueberry juice
by myself?
 
Yes, Jayne.
 
It's true.
   
I gained three pixie-kilos.
 
They threw me in the drunkards tank!
 
I was an outcast for at least a day!
 
I tried to jump off a cliff but my wings kept opening up and flying me back to the top.
 
I couldn't even manage my own suicide properly."

I smiled.
 
"Are you sure that wasn't just your refusal to leave all of your legions of fans that kept those wings from staying closed?"

"Legions of fans mean nothing without family, Jayne.
 
Never forget that."

I nodded soberly at him.
 
"I missed you too, Tim."

"I wasn't talking about you.
 
I meant Willy."

I tried to swat at him, but he was too fast for me, giggling like an escaped mental patient the whole time.
 
"Gotcha on that one, Lellamental!
 
Whoo hooo!
 
That is just pixie dust for the soul!
 
Somebody get me a fire hose because I am
too
hot right now, too hot!"

"Whatever, turd monkey.
 
I'm outta here."
 
I snagged the new toothbrush and paste Netter had made sure would be there when I returned from my swording, and walked over to slam my dresser drawer shut.

"I'll bee are bee," said Tim, flying out of the room.

I shrugged.
 
Whatever that means.
 
I finished arranging the water bottle in my bag alongside everything else and zipped it up, throwing the backpack over my shoulder and leaving the room.

Spike stood up from the couch.
 
"Ready to go get my stuff?"

"What are you going to get?"

He shrugged.
 
"I don't know.
 
Just some water and a toothbrush. Maybe some food."

We moved to the door, but before we were fully through, Tim came screeching up behind us.
 
"Hey!
 
Where are you going?
 
Didn't you hear me say I'd bee are bee?"

I turned around to face him and nearly laughed out loud.
 
He had his fanny pack on and had slicked his hair down until it was plastered to his head.
 
"What are you doing? What happened to your hair?"

"I'm coming with you.
 
Geez, when did you get so thick?
 
And I've done my hair for the trip.
 
You like?"
 
He spun once in a circle.
 
"Of course you do.
 
What's not to like?
 
Come on.
 
Open the door.
 
My wings are burning with the need for adventure."

I sighed.
 
"Tim you're not going."

"Yes, I am!" he screeched in a high-pitched voice.

"You can't."

"Why not?
 
You're not the boss.
 
I'm the boss.
 
You do what I say, and I say open that door."
 
He nodded once to look extra tough, but the fanny pack was killing any hope he had of seeming authoritative.

"What does Abby say about this?" I asked.

"She gave me her blessing, not that it's any of your business."
 
He snorted in disgust.

"You can't risk your life for me, Tim.
 
You have your family here."

He flew over to hover at the end of my nose.
 
I just closed my eyes and prepared myself for the berating I knew I was about to get.

"Open your eyes when I'm talking to you."

"I can't.
 
Your man-parts are too close."

"Ha!
 
You wish.
 
Open 'em."

I peeked one lid up.
 
He was farther back now, so I opened them all the way.
 
"Say what you have to say, but you're not going."

"Abby!" Tim yelled while staring me down.
 
"Tell her what you said!"

I could tell he was fuming over having to do this, but all that did was make me want to laugh more.
 
Pissed-off pixies were hilarious.
 
Pixie dust for the soul is right.

Abby's voice rose up from the plant-covered table that served as their home.
 
"Let him go, Jayne!
 
He was miserable here without you.
 
I'll either divorce him or kill him with my bare hands if he stays behind again!"

I whistled.
 
"Daaamn ... she-pixies do
not
mess around."

Tim nodded, his eyebrows way up.
 
"You see?
 
You have to let me go. You don't want my murder on your hands do you?"

I shook my head.
 
But the guilt still nagged at me.
 
"But what about your son?
 
If something were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself."

"You're not my parent, Jayne.
 
And as bossy as you are, you're not my boss, either.
 
I make my own decisions, and one of them is to protect the way of life we have as fae; and I can't do that sitting here on my tight, sweet, perfectly-formed buns all day while others are out there fighting the good fight.
 
I have to do my part.
 
My son has done his part to save our kind, now I will do the same."

"Awesomeness runs in the family," I said, smiling genuinely now, and it had mostly nothing to do with the fanny pack bulging at his waist.

He threw up his hands and slapped his legs.
 
"Finally!
 
You get me.
 
Come on now, let's go.
 
We're burning daylight."

"It's nighttime, Tim," I reminded him.

"What do you care?
 
You sleep all day anyway.
 
Where are we going, by the way?" he asked as we went out into the hall.

"I'm not sure.
 
Spike?
 
Where are we going?"

"To my room to get some stuff and then to the prison rooms."

"Why the prison rooms?" I asked, trying to keep up with him and getting breathless in the process.

"Because that's where they're keeping Moriah, and I think she can help us get to the Underworld."

I shivered thinking about how I was going to soon see the demon angel who'd tried to murder me in a very painful way - the same one who was missing a bunch of her plumage due to my boyfriend's enthusiasm for rescuing me from her clutches.
 
If I were her, I probably wouldn't be that thrilled about helping us out.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" she spat out, sounding as if nothing would make her happier than to remove my limbs for me.
 
And she could only have looked more demonically sexy if she had a whip to swirl around in the air above her head.
 
She was as badass as badass gets.

"We came to make a deal," I said, sounding stronger than I felt.

She cocked a hip, raising a brow at me.
 
"A deal? What kind of deal?"

"Be careful, Jayne, you can't mess this up," warned Tim, standing on my shoulder and hanging onto a clump of hair in a too-tight grip.

"Thanks for the tip, pixieman," I said.
 
The useless one.
 
To Moriah I said, "We need to get to the Underworld."

She shrugged.
 
"And I care because ... ?"

"You need to get back to the Underworld."

She frowned, looking very unconvinced.
 
"Not really.
 
I'm happy in the Here and Now."
 
A slow, evil smile spread across her shiny, red lips.
 
"You have such nice all-you-can-eat buffets here.
 
I'm just dying to try them."
 
She tipped her head back and laughed like the scary demon whatever that she was.

"Nice wings," I said, before I could stop myself.

Her laughter cut off in an instant.
 
"No thanks to your
boyfriend."
 
The venom in her words was more than a little frightening.
 
I wanted to put Spike in a Green bubble shield, but I resisted.
 
I couldn't let her know that she was pulling my strings so easily.

BOOK: Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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