Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) (25 page)

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 know 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.

"Oh, god," I said. "What can we do? There must be something."

"Only Daelissa or another Brightling could cure me," the little angel said.

"My mom can!" I jumped up, mind racing to think of how I could possibly contact her. All I had to do was figure out where the Conroys lived. "I'll ask Ivy."

"No," Nightliss rasped. "Too dangerous."

Meghan stepped inside the room, and stood near me. "While you're here, I wanted to check on your leg."

"Is it worse?" Nightliss asked.

"Don't worry about me," I said, standing up. "Worry about Nightliss."

"I have to worry about you," Meghan said. "Even if I can't do anything, about it, I want to make sure the potion is working."

"Justin, I can help." Nightliss motioned to me with just her fingers since she apparently couldn't move her arm very much.

I thought of her blood in the potion. "You've done too much already," I said. I didn't want her overextending.

"Vallaena told me—"

I sprang to my feet. "What?"

Sorrow creased the angel's brow. "My heart, Justin."

I took deep breaths to combat the rage roiling through my blood at the thought of Vallaena coming here and telling Nightliss about our conversation. I spun to Meghan. "How the hell did Vallaena find out where Nightliss was?"

The healer shrugged. "She called, and said she needed to see Nightliss on your behalf. I assumed—"

"That lying little…" I swallowed my next words, and ground my teeth as the desire to punch a wall wrestled with my rational mind.

"Justin!" Nightliss must have used all her strength to shout my name, because she sank even deeper into her pillow after doing it, eyelids fluttering.

I sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in mind as the anger fled, replaced by pain. "What is it?"

She swallowed, grimacing. Took in a breath. "My heart is yours. Take it, please. The world needs you."

I looked away as hot tears sprang into my eyes. "No. I won't do it."

"I am dying. Make my life count."

"Your life already counts," I said. "And it's going to keep on counting, damn it." I couldn't hold back the flood and felt tears running down my cheeks. "I won't let you die."

"It's too late for that," she said, her breathing growing shallow. Her eyes closed, and her arm went limp.

"No!" I shouted, pressing a hand to her neck, looking for a pulse.

Meghan pushed me aside, running her wand along the small angel's body. She breathed in relief. "She lives." Her red-rimmed eyes met mine. "Justin, I don't think she has more than a week left, and even that estimate might be generous." The healer gripped my hand and led me into the den where Shelton sat drinking coffee.

He looked up at me with a bloodshot gaze. "We're screwed, aren't we? Nightliss is dying. The vampling curse is eating you alive." Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he groaned. "Guess I'd better enjoy the free life while it's still around."

"Shelton, shut up," Meghan said, a scowl on her face. She handed me a tissue. "Is it true about Nightliss's heart?"

I wiped my eyes, and blew my nose. Shrugged. "Vallaena seems to think so. All she has to go on is some Daemos legend from the war with the Brightlings." I told her the story.

"It could be true," Meghan said. "It's also true Nightliss may die soon, and your chance of a cure may die with her."

"She isn't going to die," I growled. Knuckles cracked as my hands balled into fists. "I won't let her."