Abominations (Demonkin Book 3)

by Sean Hayden

  "Obviously, you are feeling guilt over your little snack this evening–"

  "Get out, Marcel"

  "Little one–"

  "Get out. Both of you. Just go." I tossed the rest of the blood in the sink and headed toward my bedroom. I paused for a moment, worried I would see Vic again, but decided I would prefer her company, even dead, to the two assholes sitting in my kitchen.

  Apparently, my luck wasn't going to change anytime soon. Marcel followed me, even though I heard the front door shut. Thompson listened at least.

  "Marc, I'm really not in the mood."

  "You seldom seem to be anymore," he said wistfully.

  "What?"

  "'In the mood'" He even did air quotes. I hate air quotes.

  I stopped just before my bedroom door, turned, and gave him the look. He held up his hands and shook his head.

  "Can you blame a girl?"

  "No, but life moves on no matter how you may feel about it. I'm speaking from experience here. I know how it is to lose. I know how it feels to want to give up. I know how it feels to want to die. Trust me."

  I sighed. I knew a little of his story and how he had lost his one true love. He kind of filled me in on it after accidentally making out with me when he was half-asleep. It was hard to be whiney and mopey with someone who had gone through the exact same thing. In a decidedly uncharacteristic move of recent Ash, I held out my hand and put it on his arm.

  "I know you do. And I'm sorry for being such an ass lately. I know I need to get my shit together, I just don't know how."

  "Come with me, cher."

  He slid his arm from under my hand and grabbed it, pulling me gently toward my living room. He led me to my overstuffed white chair and took the closest seat next to it on the couch. He gave me some space and it relaxed me just a tiny bit.

  "Where do you think we should start?"

  "With what?"

  "Getting your shit together. What, besides dealing with the loss of Vic, do you think is a priority?"

  His question caught me off guard. It was the first time in weeks anybody asked me what I wanted. I could feel a tear form in the corner of my eye. The only slight problem with his question was that I didn't have any idea where to start. Or did I?

  "I need to get all the vamps tied to me off my plate. It's too much of a drain I can't afford right now."

  He nodded. "You are correct."

  "After that–"

  "No."

  "What?"

  "No. There is no after that."

  "Um…"

  "You misunderstand me. I asked you what your priority was, and you answered. I didn't inquire as to your ten-step program for reinventing your life. One step at a time. Figure out what is the most important and let us tackle that first. Good plan?"

  "I like this plan."

  "I thought you would. You have too many things running through that adorable head of yours, cher. You have been placed under my care and my supervision. Reese is very worried about you. I can't promise I can fix everything, but you do have my word that I will try, by any means necessary, to put you back on the right path. Is that okay?"

  All I could do was nod. If I tried to use my voice, I'm pretty sure it would crack and I'd start bawling again.

  "Bon. Why don't you watch some television while I make some calls?"

  So, I did.

  I took a quick shower and got in my jammies and grabbed a pouch of blood. I even made a note on the whiteboard on my fridge to call Reese about restocking me. I was going through it like water.

  Marcel returned to his spot on the couch. "Do you have plans tomorrow, cher?"

  "My schedule just became a desert wasteland."

  "Good. I shall send someone to fetch you at sunset then."

  "Fetch me?"

  "Yes. Pick you up. Bring you to me."

  "So, now I'm take out? Or a bone?"

  "No. You are a pain in the ass. Please remember that I do think in French and it doesn't always translate to how you might like it."

  "I know. I was just trying to lighten the mood and failed miserably. Hard to talk when you have a mouthful of bitch."

  He nodded and turned his attention to the movie playing on my humble fifty-inch television. It was a Disney kind of night. I fought the urge to sing along. I finished my blood bag and tossed it onto the table next to me and tried to curl up in the chair.

  "Where are we going?"

  "We are meeting a mage friend to see about freeing you from your burden."

  "Hey, Marc?"

  "Oui?"

  "Are you going to stay a while?"

  "Do you wish to be alone?"

  "Not even a little bit. Could you stay for a while?" He nodded "Mind if I share the couch with you?"

  "As long as you behave yourself."

  I turned, ready to give him a ration of shit when I noticed the smile on his face. "No promises," I said and moved myself, sprawling across the remaining two-thirds of the couch and using his thigh as a pillow.

  I nearly gasped when I felt his fingers gently run through my hair.

  "It will get better, cher. That I can promise."

  Lying on the couch with my head almost in his lap, I was leaning toward agreeing with him. I tried to concentrate on the movie instead of how good his fingers felt in my hair, or how good he smelled, or the pulse in the femoral artery pulsing beneath my cheek. So many places I wanted to sink my teeth and so little time. I guess that wouldn't qualify as behaving.

  We stayed that way until the movie finished. I wasn't whole. I wasn't fixed. Not by a long shot. But during that movie, my heart hurt just a little bit less.

  "It is almost sunrise. I should go."

  I slowly turned over and looked up at him. "Please stay. I really don't want to be alone tonight."

  His lids narrowed. "Cher…"

  "Don't be a perv. You do realize the irony of calling you a perv, right? I mean sex and bondage is like air and water for you. But, that isn't what I meant. I just really don't want to be alone. We can sleep here on the couch and loveseat. Or we can share the bed if you think you can behave yourself. I'll sleep on top of the covers."

  With a soft sigh, he nodded once. "I think I can behave. But, sleeping on a couch is something I haven’t done in decades."

  "Promise to keep your hands to yourself and be a gentleman?"

  "Of course…"

  "Damnit," I said and stood, holding my hand out for him.

  Even though Marcel was older than me by about a millennium, I woke before he did. He was on his back, completely immobile, and I was curled up in the crook of his arm with my head on his chest. I could think of forty-eight billion worse ways to wake up.

  His arm curled around my shoulders and his hand went back to my hair, ruffling it slightly. I fought very hard not to let out a contented sigh and ruin the moment. Instead, I lay very still and just enjoyed the sensation. Waking up next to someone was a rarity I could definitely get used to.

  "You're being very good this evening."

  "Yeah. I am. You should give me a reward."

  "And there it goes," he said with a small chuckle.

  "Can't help it. I'm all evil and shit."

  His eyes opened, and the good-natured hair ruffling stopped. He turned on his side, facing me, but didn't remove his arm from underneath me.

  "That is something you do not believe, correct?"

  "One more time in English, please." I blinked at him in confusion.

  "That you're evil. You don't believe that do you?"

  "You mean me in general or vampires as a whole?"

  "Both," he clarified.

  I twisted in his grip until I faced the ceiling and thought about it. It had never crossed my mind. I'd only been making a joke, but tripped a philosophical moment.

  "I don't know. If you had asked me a year ago, my answer might have been different. But right at this moment, I would have to answer negatively."

  "To you or in general?"

  "Both."r />
  "Why? And why is your answer different now?"

  "I'll answer your second question first. The answer is Vic. She is also my answer to your first question."

  "How so?" His question didn’t sound patronizing in the least. I could almost feel the curiosity coming off him like a gentle heat.

  "My whole life, I thought there was something terribly wrong with me. The only person I had ever had contact with was my aunt. There isn't a doubt in my mind that she loved me, but she hid me from the world. I had always thought deep down, that it was because she was protecting the world from some sort of horrible evil. Me. Now I'm not so sure. I think she might have been protecting me from the evil world."

  He nodded, urging me on.

  "The reason I don't think all vamps are intrinsically evil anymore is because of Vic. She was a vampire when I met her, and if anybody tried to tell me there was an evil bone in her body, I'd beat them to death. I know she wasn't perfect, I don't have blinders on, but gods damnit, she was close." My voice caught in the back of my throat.

  "I know exactly what you are trying to say. It was my Sophie who taught me the same thing."

  I nodded.

  "But why do you think you aren't inherently evil anymore? Do not get me wrong, I don't think you are either, I just want to know your thoughts."

  "Because Vic wouldn't have loved me if I were. She might have obeyed, or found me attractive, but she wouldn't have loved me."

  "Exactement. You are growing, little one."

  "Gee, I hope my boobs get bigger."

  He let out a bark of laughter and kissed me on my forehead. "Me, too," he whispered, winked, and darted from the bed to the bathroom before I could slap the shit out of him.

  Even through the closed door, I could hear his laughter.

  "Asshole," I said, but laughed as I slid off the bed and walked over to the dresser to find some clothes. Hopefully I had some clean ones.

  I heard Marc turn the shower on, so I decided to change in my own room. I had my pajama bottoms off and was halfway through lifting my shirt over my head when the bathroom door opened.

  In a tangled mess, I squatted down, hiding my nakedness as best as I could. "I…um…thought you were getting into the shower," I squeaked miserably.

  "No. I was starting it for you. My apologies," he chortled and left the bedroom, dialing his phone as he walked.

  I showered before we had our movie marathon. I probably still reeked of blood and this was his polite way of telling me to use more body wash. Sighing, I did just that and then put on a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a T-shirt that didn't seem to have one solitary hole in it.

  Staring at myself in my dresser mirror, I had to admit it. I looked better than I had in weeks. Pledging not to fall into the same trap I seemed to keep stepping in, I promised myself to gulp down a breakfast pouch before we headed out. I planned on doing everything in my power not to end up on my ass tonight.

  I exited the bedroom and headed straight for my fridge. "Are you ready to go?"

  "Just waiting for our ride."

  "You didn't drive?"

  "Non, I don't drive."

  "You don't have a car?"

  "Or a license. Or the will to learn. It is much simpler to have people do those things for me."

  "Until you get stranded without a ride at a crazy teenage vampire's house," I added.

  "There are worse places to be," he said with a smile as I parked my butt at the end of the couch with my breakfast in hand.

  "I'm sure there are several layers of hell less cozy than my living room. Plus, I have cable."

  His cell rang once and then silenced itself. "Now we are ready to go," he said and stood.

  I looked at the bag of blood in my hand and sucked for all I was worth, getting down to the slurping bubble noises by the time we made it to the front door. I discarded it on the table in the hall and slipped on the Nike's I kept there.

  "So where are we going?" I saw the limo. "And why are we taking a fucking limo? Should I go put on a prom dress?"

  He glanced over his shoulder at me in confusion. "Why?"

  "Limo?"

  "Car?"

  "Your car is a limo?"

  "Several of them, yes."

  "How rich are you?"

  "Very," he said a little too seductively. A shiver ran down my spine and ended somewhere pleasant.

  "Marry me?"

  "Maybe in six-hundred years or so. You might be a little more mature by then."

  I flipped him off as he ducked into the black monstrosity. The driver, complete in gray suit and funky chauffer hat, smiled as he held the door open for me to get in behind Marcel.

  "So, where we heading?" Curiosity got the better of me.

  The door thunked closed and Marcel looked over at me. "Church."

  "'Scuse me?"

  "Church. We are going to a church."

  "Not as in sitting down, listening to a sermon and confessing all our evil sins before bursting into flames church?"

  "Probably not."

  "I hope you're kidding me," I said and stared at him, hoping for at least a smile. I got nothing.

  The car pulled away and we headed downtown. Marcel was eerily silent for the half hour it took us to get down by Printer's Row. We headed a bit west and pulled into a parking lot just outside of a very Catholic looking school. The engine quieted and a moment later, my door opened. I stepped out into the brightly lit lot and looked around. Sure enough, Marcel hadn't been kidding. We were right next to St. Pat's Catholic Church. I could feel my insides tighten. I had never been inside a church before. Sure, I knew the whole bursting into flames thing was bullshit, but that didn't mean I had to have a warm and fuzzy feeling either.

  "Relax," Marc whispered in my ear.

  "Are you?"

  His chuckle told me everything I needed to know.

  I followed him out of the lot, past the park and across the street. The front door loomed above me and I could almost feel the angels watching me as I walked up the stone steps and stopped in front of the three huge, ornate red circled crosses emblazoned on the doors. I shuddered.

  "Are they even open?"

  "For us, they are," Marc said and knocked three times. I wondered if it was some sort of secret code or if he just wanted to be a little bit dramatic.

  The door opened and the tallest human being I had ever seen stood in the brightly lit entrance. He wasn't dressed like a priest, but he wore a black suit. My mind screamed Lurch. He didn't look like the butler, but he stood damn near as tall. I really wanted him to say, "You rang?"

  "Marc!" He actually beamed and held out his hand.

  "Cosmo. Always good to see you, mon ami."

  "Cosmo?" I couldn't help it. The entire scene had turned surreal. I wanted to look around for a hidden camera.

  "Hi. Yep. Cosmo," he said and shook my hand after he had finished shaking Marcel's.

  My hand became completely lost in his. He actually had to bend over to reach me. I was afraid something would startle him, and he'd fling me up into the air accidentally. I took a deep breath of relief when he let go.

  "Come on in," he said and led the way.

  I couldn't help it. I closed my eyes as I crossed the threshold. When nothing burned I finally opened them and gasped. The place was even more beautiful on the inside. Long, curved wooden pews faced the altar. Stained glass windows adorned the walls from floor to ceiling. The grey and white ceiling appeared held aloft with columns and beams adorned with saints. It was simply breathtaking.

  Cosmo's giant shoes echoed on the stone floor as he quickly headed toward the altar. I tried not to look as I passed by. We headed down a hallway through a cleverly hidden door on the back wall of the church.

  "Okay. I'm sorry. What exactly are we doing here?" I tried to whisper to Marcel, but Lurch heard me.

  "I'm the Mage for the Arch Diocese. Sorry to have you meet me here, but I was dispelling some nasty curses on some stuff being sold at the church yard sale
on Sunday."

  "You're kidding?"

  "Hell no. Nothing says hoarder like a ninety-year-old Catholic gramma. Some of the shit they find in their attic probably survived the great fire. You wouldn't believe the nasty ass mirror that nearly bit my finger off last week." He held up his hand, and sure enough, a line of stitches ran around his index finger. I gulped and decided to pay more attention to Marc's ass. It deserved it.

  We passed several doors on both sides of the dimly lit hall before he finally opened one on the left. I turned the corner and the smell of books slapped me in the face like a heavy leather glove. A tingle ran down my spine. The entire room was a bookcase. Floor to ceiling, every inch of the walls was filled with leather tomes. The only other things in the room were a giant wooden desk with clawfoot legs and three leather chairs.

  Cosmo pushed the knick-knacks littering the desk to one side and motioned us to sit. Sparks arced across a few of the items and he separated them. One of them began smoking. He grabbed it, tossed it in a drawer and slammed it shut. A muffled bang reverberated through the floor. He shook his head and smiled.

  "So, what seems to be the problem."

  "The girl," Marcel supplied.

  Cosmo shifted his gaze to me and seemed to really take a good look. "I don't see anything?"

  "You have no idea," I said nervously.

  "No. That's just it. Even normies have traces of magic on them. You've got nothing. You're a blank. A matte black wall," he said and furrowed his brows, standing and coming back around the desk. He gestured to my hand.

  I nodded and held it out for him. If he noticed my claws, he didn't flinch and just reached out and touched a fingertip to the back of my hand. The arc of electricity racing up his arm didn't seem to faze him much. I guessed that he had taken a few jolts over the years.

  "What the actual fuck?"

  I laughed. "You sure don't sound like a church guy."

  "I'm not. They just pay the bills," He said absent-mindedly, like it wasn't the first time he'd been told that. He reached out again, took my hand in his, and closed his eyes. I couldn't feel anything other than the delicate touch of his long fingers on my skin.

  "This is amazing," he said almost reverently.