Hell Hath No Vengeance (Vengeance Demons Book 5)

by Louisa Lo

  Sophia blinked, and for the first time really looked at her son.

  “It’s me. Today’s me. I’m no longer a kid. I’m no longer weak.” Gregory kept his voice firm for his mother’s sake. “And even back then, it wasn’t too bad. What I didn’t tell you in the memory is that after they jumped me I got right back up and gave back more than I got. I’m okay, Mom. Really. I didn’t get hurt that badly at all.”

  Sophia lifted her hand and stroked Gregory’s hair. “I’m so sorry, dear.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just stay focused. We’re a team, and…” He swallowed. “I love you.”

  I got a feeling that Gregory as an adult had hardly been this open to his mother, and Sophia seemed pleased, if a little shocked.

  With his arms wrapped around his mother’s shoulders, Gregory walked through the memory with her. I trailed behind. He was the one who loved her and knew her best, so I would just stand back and let him do his job.

  And so he continued to add new context to the old memory.

  When Young Gregory said to his mother, “We’re nothing to him. Why can't you see that?” Adult Gregory assured his mother that he didn’t hate her and never would—he simply hated what his father had put her through. He believed all along that his mom was the only parent he’d ever needed. All he wanted to do was for them to stick together, and to take care of her always.

  When they went backward in the memory to the point when Young Gregory was talking about his newfound friends at the Field, Adult Gregory explained to his mother that seeing the mercenaries there made him wonder if their path would be a way out for him, a way to make money so that he could give her a better life.

  “I dreamed of giving you a nice big house one day,” he admitted with a wistful expression I could imagine his younger self had.

  “And so you did,” Sophia said, then sadness filled her eyes. “But it came with the price of never becoming licensed like your father.”

  Gregory shook his head with zero regret in his eyes. “That was never my path.”

  “But the risk with this kind of life—” The corners of her mouth turned down in dismay.

  “I’ve been very careful. We vet all our clients even more so than the licensed ones do.”

  “Still, it’s not the life I wanted for you. Nothing in life makes sense.” Sophia lowered her head.

  Gregory dipped his head so to be at her eye level again, “It doesn’t because his behavior didn’t. He didn’t act like a soul mate should. I understand that now. I’m so sorry to have doubted you. Please, Mom, believe me.”

  Sophia paused, then a look of peace and serenity crossed her face. “I do. Thank you for telling me this.”

  This time, when the image of Sophia shimmered, then faded away, I knew she was still here—but with her spirit free and unencumbered from the memory now.

  I closed my eyes and visualized the overall picture of her mind again. With the core of the mother-child estrangement resolved, let’s hope that the memories heal themselves in a dominos effect.

  It didn’t.

  Yes, all the angry red colors that represented the infected memories had lightened to a salmon pink, but the ties that bind them together seemed stronger than ever. I directed my magic to try to poke around, and the bonds refused to give, flexible like some sort of industrial-strength polymer elastic band.

  Gregory joined me in the overview. I felt his confusion and fear over what was in front of us. There was still something we needed to do. But what?

  I took a more careful look at the bonds. The networks, so like octopus tentacles, were not solidly white as I’d originally thought. They contained tiny, clear bubbles of jelly inclusions, and the latter weren’t stationary. They flew through the bonds like blood through the veins. Acting as some sort of information transmitters, perhaps?

  When my magical reach brushed over some of the jelly inclusions, they changed color to white, then clear again.

  “Megan,” Gregory’s voice came through a bit slurry in this state, but his cautiousness was evident nevertheless. “Are those inclusions some kind of weapon?”

  “If it’s a booby trap, I’d already have triggered it.” I brushed my magic over the inclusions again, and it changed color once more. I poked at them, hard, but nothing happened.

  Out of impulse, I reached out with my bare hands instead of my magic. Immediately, Gregory and I got pulled into yet another memory.

  “Where are we?” I asked Gregory when I found us in the living room of yet another apartment. This one had bright open windows and a couple of wall-to-ceiling bookshelves full of board games, Pathfinder books, and fantasy novels. An old mutt was sleeping on a large rug under the coffee table, and the whiffs of something spicy and wonderful was coming from the kitchen off the right side. The apartment was as crammed as the one from Sophia’s memory, but contained the signature of fresh lemon cream pies—a strong sense of joy, hope, and looking forward to the future.

  “This is not from my mother’s memories,” Gregory puzzled. “We never lived in a place like this before.”

  I was slightly disappointed. It would’ve been really cool if he was a closet nerd. “Then who’s place is this?”

  There was the sound of keys jingling on the other side of the front door, then it was opened. A woman in a waitress uniform entered the living room carrying a white plastic bag. She dropped the keys into a bowl and said, “Hon, I’m home!”

  The old mutt lifted his head in greeting, then settled back down to continue his nap.

  A man of medium height and built in an oversize apron came out of the kitchen, a wooden spoon still in his hand. He pulled the woman in for a hug and a kiss.

  Gregory shook his head in puzzlement, not appearing to know this couple at all. I had no idea what we could possibly get out of viewing this little domestic scene, or how a memory that Gregory didn’t recognize would be hidden in his mother’s mind. The inclusions I touched seemed to have been some sort of an Easter egg—hidden message within a video game that popped up when a certain level was achieved or a specific sequence of actions was implemented by the player. But Vera had left it there for a reason, and it would be wise to see it through.

  “Welcome back,” the man said to the woman when their lips finally parted. “The spaghetti is almost ready.”

  “And I got us dessert from work.” She grinned, lifting the plastic bag, which contained two small take-out containers.

  “Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable, and I’ll start serving?” the man suggested. “The show’s starting in a few minutes.”

  They parted for their respective designations, and moments later the man carried two plates back to the living room laden with spaghetti and meatballs, and laid it on the coffee table. Then he went into the kitchen again and came back with two glasses of orange juice. He had just sat on the couch with the TV remote in hand when the woman joined him, having changed into comfortable yoga shirt and pants.

  They ate in companionable silence while watching a documentary about the navigation skills of birds. The mutt jumped onto the couch and settled onto the man’s lap. He reached down and patted the animal now and then.

  During the commercial the woman asked the man, “How did the job interview go?”

  The man’s hand tensed on the dinner plate he was holding, “It went well until they asked me the standard background questions, when they heard I had a record it kinda cooled down from there.”

  The woman took his plate and placed it on the coffee table along with hers. Then she leaned into the man’s arms, her voice full of faith. “You’ll find something. I’m sure of it.”

  The man planted a kiss on the woman’s forehead, “I’ll keep trying. I want to make some money and marry my girl, you know.”

  “You better try,” the woman teased, “or else who’s going to watch good old boring docs with you.”

  The couple laughed and went back to watching TV.

  Well, it wasn’t exactly a scen
e of grand romance, but there was something really sweet about the way they were taking simple joys in each other’s company, sharing a meal and some television entertainment together. Not sure how this tied to our current dilemma with Gregory’s mom, though.

  Wait, did the guy say he had a record and couldn’t get a job because of it?

  Once I thought of that, the couple’s image blurred and morphed, until the man’s oversize apron, which he’d never bothered to take off, filled out and stretched to accommodate a large and muscular body with tattoos covering his biceps. A scar cut a path from his forehead to his cheek, edging nauseatingly close to his left eye.

  The woman’s yoga outfit could barely conceal her voluptuous figure. She, too, had tattoos, a pattern of blood-red roses and thorns peeking out of the collar of her shirt. She shifted her position on the couch slightly, tugging in her tail as she snuggled up with her man.

  We were looking at Boyce and Vera. A hardened criminal and a kidnapper, watching a documentary about how birds managed to fly around the globe with their internal guidance system.

  Gregory and I looked at each other. Just what the hack was Vera trying to do here?

  A second Vera appeared in front of us, this one in a black polyester bodysuit like the one we’d seen before, with her arms crossed over her chest. “That was Boyce and I, before the false murder charges ruined our lives. Did you find your perception changed once you realized whom the memory is really about?”

  “You!” I pointed at her. “You tricked us into accessing this memory.”

  Usually, a memory was downloaded into a USB, reconfigured, and cleaned up by vetting software before they were viewed. In Rosemary and Sophia’s cases, we had no choice but to dive in. But at least they were people Gregory and I each cared about in real life. Being tricked into viewing a memory of unfamiliar people was forcing us to see things from their perspective whether we liked it or not. And hiding their true identity during the viewing process was even more disrespectful.

  And yet I had to admit, when that memory was observed without all the preset prejudices, it felt rather authentic. Well, maybe not the physical appearances of the couple, but the feelings they had for each other and Boyce’s desire to find work. It was forcing me to think of him not just as a case file, forgotten as soon as our bounty was collected.

  Sneaky shade.

  “Look here,” I pointed out. “If you’re trying to get us to see things from your side, kidnapping our loved ones is a bad way of going about it.”

  Long pause. Then Vera’s nose flared as if she was sensing something we couldn’t. Her eyes widened. “You’re right. Come back to the physical world and we shall talk.”

  She faded away, and so did the Easter-egg memory, and once again Gregory and I were at the overview of Sophia’s brain. Before our eyes, the bonds that were tying her negative memories together dissolved, and the memories turned from salmon pink to a healthy, cool blue. Sophia should be able to make a full recovery.

  Looked like this was an olive branch from Vera. Problem was, we couldn’t exactly afford the price she would once again demand.

  Gregory let out a deep breath, relieved at the state of his mom’s mind.

  “Ready to go?” I asked.

  He gave everything a final inspection, then nodded with grim satisfaction.

  We exited Sophia’s mind. This time, the return to the physical world was faster than with Rosemary. We soon knew why when we saw Sassy and Vera sitting on opposite sides of my bed, and the latter seemed to have helped her brethren in the task of pulling Gregory and I back.

  Sassy gave Vera a look that said I didn’t ask for your help, while Vera simply grinned back.

  Gregory immediately went to my bed and took hold of Sophia’s hand. “Mom, please wake up.”

  Knowing his mother’s mind had healed was one thing, seeing her coming out of her coma was another. I know that Gregory wouldn’t relax until he saw that for himself.

  I glanced at Vera. It didn’t look like she was interested in going anywhere.

  Sophia opened her eyes tentatively.

  “My son, was it all a dream?” she whispered.

  “No, I was in your mind,” Gregory answered. “And I meant everything I said. We should’ve had a talk about all this a long time ago.”

  “I’m glad we did.”

  With his face more relaxed and carefree than I’d ever seen him, Gregory straightened up and said to Vera, “I suppose in a way I owe you a thank you.”

  After working with him all these months, I understood Gregory enough to know why he offered gratitude to Vera. It wasn’t because he was acknowledging that her action would earn her any brownie points in our upcoming discussion, but because he was a man who lived by his own code of ethics, and he believed in giving thanks when thanks were deserved.

  But that didn’t mean he would be any more likely to give into her demand. And neither would I.

  And yet…

  Boyce did seem pretty genuine in his desire to begin a new life with Vera. Was that the behavior of someone willing to commit mass murders at the risk of putting that new life in jeopardy? The Book of Life and Death was supposedly never wrong. The Council could corrupt, but the Book should be above politics, as dependable as the fact that all vengeance demons were born with wings.

  But it would just be the story of my life to be the exception of the exception.

  Chapter Ten

  The Felon’s Girlfriend

  Gregory, Vera, and I excused ourselves from Sophia’s presence and went downstairs. Sassy followed suit. She didn’t trust Vera, and I couldn’t blame her. Vera could get nasty, fast, if she didn’t get what she wanted.

  Once we reached the living room, Vera got right to it.

  “I have something that might interest you, Megan,” she said. “For a trade, of course.”

  “What trade?" I blew out a breath in frustration. “Overlooking the fact that you just offered me something right in front of my partner, I can’t help your boyfriend break out of Hell. You know that. And I don’t have an in with Lucifer, despite what the flowers suggested.”

  “Well, duh, I know all that.” She waved her hand at me.

  “You knew? Then why the heck did you make that demand?” I threw my hands up.

  “Just to see how far I could push you. I was so angry at you. When they took Boyce away, I thought I’d never see him again. Having him escape and return to me felt like a gift beyond measure. It’s not easy for a shade to form relationships but once we do, it’s for life. All I wanted to do was for us to lay low and move to a far off plane as soon as I could secure passage. Then I found out you arrested him and sent him back, and I got so mad.”

  “Wait, you said you were angry. You’re not anymore?” I asked.

  “After viewing my memory with Boyce, I sensed something from both of you. And it changed my mind,” Vera admitted.

  “What is it?” Gregory asked curiously.

  “Your conditional sympathy,” Vera said.

  “What the heck is that?” I asked. I had never heard of the words “conditional” and “sympathy” being put together in such a manner. From the look on his face, neither had Gregory.

  “As in, provided that I’m telling the truth, you both feel sympathy for the situation Boyce and I are in. I realized then you’re my best chance. You both know how it feels to want to be more than what the rest of the world thinks you could ever be. My Boyce worked so hard trying to go legit. And he really took care of me. I even stopped most of my shade activities after I met him. That’s why I took that waitress job. I know no other vengeance demons who would root for us the way you would, if only you know he’s truly innocent. All I’m asking for is a fair, independent investigation into the murders that my man is accused of, to prove that he really didn’t do it.”

  “An investigation. That’s it?” I asked with suspicion. “No insistence on suicidal jail breaks?”

  “No,” Vera’s insisted. “That’s because I know tha
t when you realize that I’m telling the truth, you’ll have no choice but to break him out of Hell, even if it’s suicidal. I know your vengeance nature would demand it.”

  She was confident, I would give her that. It made me a little queasy. What if she was right about Boyce? And she hit the nail on the head when it came to predicting my reaction in the event that he was indeed innocent. My inherent sense of right and wrong would demand that I help him, even at great cost to myself.

  Even against Lucifer.

  “And you will get something out of it if you agree, Megan,” Vera added.

  I had no idea what the shade thought I would need from her. But whatever it was, if it only benefited me and not Gregory, it wasn’t something I would want to consider.

  Then Vera dropped the bombshell.

  “I could take you to the Internet,” she announced. “I’m the missing piece you need. The Lies and Illusions half of the equation.”

  My jaw sagged, and I felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

  “How did you know I’ve been trying to go there?" I demanded.

  Who else knew? Oh no, was the Council aware of Grandma’s whereabouts, and my attempt to get her back? I thought all who were in the know were keeping it hush-hush, but somebody must’ve talked. Grandma was someone who, shall we say, knew where all the bodies were buried, and her return to the physical realm could really bite the Council in the ass. If they knew I was trying to bring her back, then they would try to stop me.

  Vera rolled her eyes. “I know because I'm a shade. We are always in the shadows, witnessing your every desire and misdeed. There isn’t much that escapes the attention of my kind.”

  “If you’re so powerful, why not help your lover yourself?” Gregory pointed out, speaking for the first time since Vera offered a deal that would benefit me but not him. I resisted the urge to look at his expression.

  “Many of the places my Boyce was processed through—the police station, the court—are shade-proofed through blanket safeguards erected when the existence of my kind was still common knowledge. I couldn’t get to the information I need on my own."