Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) (24 page)

"Hello, Justinius," Vallaena said, smiling sweetly as a gentle breeze picked at her blonde locks.

Resolving to be as nice as possible despite the lack of trust I felt toward this woman, I put on a smile of my own. "Hello, Vallaena." I sat next to her. "What's up?"

Her blue eyes looked me up and down. "You've grown since I last saw you."

"Puberty," I said.

She shook her head. "No, it's something more than that." She peered into my eyes with uncomfortable intensity. "You are no longer the confused boy I first met, but a young man. A leader. Your father would be proud."

I stiffened at the mention of my dad and looked away.

"Though I see you aren't yet ready to accept some realities." Vallaena touched the top of my hand. "Duty weighs heavily on your father, Justinius. Do not hate him for the choices he must make."

"Call me Justin," I said, trying not to acknowledge her statement or allow it to make me feel guilty. "What do I need to learn first?"

"Protocol. It is extremely important to Daemos." She stood, brushing a lock of blonde hair from her face as a breeze ruffled it. "Once I feel you are adequately versed, you will learn summoning."

"Like hellhounds and demons?" I asked, still sitting on the bench.

She nodded. "Yes, but it goes deeper." She held out a hand. "Take my hand."

I regarded the fair skin of her hand with suspicion before taking it, wondering if Daemos protocol meant I had to kiss her knuckles or something. A surprised yelp escaped my throat when she yanked me to my feet like I weighed nothing. It was easy to underestimate someone's strength when they looked like Vallaena.

An amused smile crossed her face.

I suppressed a snarky comment.

Still holding my hand, she led me through the gardens, past pools of bubbling fudge, chocolate-brown bunny rabbits nibbling on green licorice grass, and all sorts of candy-themed plants, trees, and animals. I touched a flower on one of the trees. It felt like normal vegetation.

"None of this is candy," Vallaena said, as if reading my thoughts. "The animals are real, though they wear illusions to make them appear edible."

"They're still edible," I said.

She laughed. "True, though the gardeners would likely be very unhappy with you."

We passed out of the garden, took the walkway past the stadium, and cut across the wide green field between the school and the dark forest where my new best buddy, the tragon, lived.

"Why are we coming out here?" I asked, gazing at her with narrowed eyes.

"I know you don't trust me," Vallaena said. "Please believe I only have your best interests at heart."

"More like
your
best interests," I said.

"What is good for you is good for all our people," she said. "I am here to teach you, nothing more."

I stopped and said, "Before we get into all that protocol stuff, I want you to tell me more about manifesting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Manifesting is related to summoning and banishment."

My forehead scrunched. "Huh?"

"We summon a part of ourselves when we manifest, and banish it again to return to normal," Vallaena replied.

Her explanation made sense. It certainly felt as if I were summoning a demon when I manifested, though lately the vampling curse made it feel like the demon was banishing me instead. "I've been having issues," I said, after a moment's hesitation. Despite my misgivings, I knew she was the only one who could probably help me in this area. I told her about my issues, the curse, and how I'd nearly lost control during the battle with Zagg.

Her eyes went wide at the mention of the vampling curse, and for the first time, worry clouded her face. She put a hand to her chin as she thought. "This is not good." She paced for a moment. "We do not possess immunity to Seraphim curses."

My stomach went cold. "Is there a cure?"

Vallaena stopped, gave me a look which bordered on sorrow. "I am unsure."

I waved off the subject. "It doesn't matter." Meghan's potion gave me time, and I had to hope I could unlock my Seraphim side and heal myself. "I need to know how to control the manifestation, especially with the curse trying to take over."

She gave me a sad look. "I can explain part of your problems. Spontaneous manifestation is a problem young Daemos males face during puberty. Females can control the urge, but males cannot help themselves."

I groaned. "Gee, that sounds familiar."

"Indeed." A smile flashed across her face. "The vampling curse may be a trigger, but even without it, your hormonal urges would also trigger manifestation, especially under stressful situations."

"The curse is definitely stressing me out." I ran a hand through my hair. "What can I do to stop it?"

"I can teach you how to properly summon your demon form."

"I'm listening," I said.

Vallaena continued. "We are not morphs—not in the way lycans and other shifters are."

"Or like Flarks?"

Alarm showed in her eyes. "There are Flarks in the game now?"

Apocalyptic problems were hardly a game, but I didn't feel like bringing that up with her. "There's one. Do you know about them?"

Her upper lip curled with distaste. "In my studies, I learned Flarks are creatures from the Seraphim world. They are the devoted servants of the angels."

I remembered what Mr. Bigglesworth had said. If I knew anything about Flarks, then I'd know why he was helping Daelissa. "Devoted servants," I said. "Their loyalty lies foremost to the angels."

"Naturally," Vallaena said with a shrug.

In other words, Bigglesworth was only helping the Conroys because Daelissa wanted him to. Maybe he felt loyalty toward Ivy because she was part angel. Maybe he regarded her as an abomination. With Daelissa holding his reins, he was a danger to my sister. As for the Conroys—they weren't even relatives, just power-hungry Arcanes who'd kidnapped my sister and had now imprisoned my mother. Bigglesworth could eat them, for all I cared.

"You are not telling me something," Vallaena said.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? There's a lot I'm not telling you."

A nod. "Very well. Perhaps I will earn your trust. I am here to help, after all."

"Great, you can start by helping me control my spontaneous manifestation issue first." I sighed. "It's really embarrassing."

She smiled. "I understand." Her eyes scanned me up and down. "I think you should strip before we begin." She slid the strap of her dress off one shoulder, and reached for the other.

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."