by Larissa Ione
“Mom, has it occurred to you that this is my normal self? With the False Angel enchantment wearing off, I don’t feel the need to trick anyone into sex or anything else.”
“Are you saying that you’d rather let the concealment wear off so Eradicators and Destroyers can kill you? I won’t let that happen. I’ve worked too hard to keep you safe. Your father’s death can’t be in vain.”
Blaspheme rolled her eyes. Always the guilt trip with her father. “Do you really think my father would be happy knowing we’d sacrificed the life of an innocent to keep my true identity concealed?”
“Your father was an angel,” Deva growled. “He wouldn’t care if we sacrifice a demon. To angels, a dead demon is a good demon.”
“But he’d want me to be happy, and I can’t be happy if my existence comes at the cost of another person’s life.”
“You didn’t know Rifion,” she snapped. “You don’t know what he’d want.”
Tired of the same old argument, Blas stood. “We’ll talk about this later. You need your rest.” She glanced at her watch. She’d been off duty for hours now.
Her mother jackknifed forward and grasped her wrist. “We will not talk about it later. I’ve set a trap for the False Angel. She’ll be caught at my place tonight, and by the time she bleeds out in the morning, you’ll be safe. I can perform the ritual from here.”
Oh… holy shit. “You are unbelievable, you know that?” Blas practically yelled.
The blood drained from Deva’s face, and although Blas wished her words had caused it, she knew better and eased her mother backward on the bed. “You’re woozy from sitting up so fast.”
“I don’t care,” Deva moaned. “I need you to be safe. You’re all I have. We’re all each other has.”
Blaspheme’s anger diluted a little, but it didn’t change her mind about the ritual. She had to stop Deva’s False Angel from falling into whatever gruesome trap her mother had set.
“I have to go, but I’ll be back soon.” She handed Deva a glass of water. “Drink this and keep yourself calm or I’ll order sedation. Got it?”
Swallowing sourly, Deva nodded.
Blaspheme left the head nurse with orders to sedate Deva anyway and to not allow visitors. Even though angels couldn’t enter the facility – with the exception of Reaver – Blas didn’t want to take any chances. An angel desperate to grab her mother could bribe, bespell, or blackmail a demon into abducting her. The clinic’s Haven spell would prevent an assassination attempt, but once outside the facility, Deva would no longer be protected.
Feeling confident that her mother was in good hands, she left the clinic through the Harrowgate rather than the main exit to the tube station. If angels were watching the hospital and the clinic, they could easily nab anyone exiting into the human world, but there was no way to track people through Harrowgates.
The Harrowgate opened up a few blocks away from Deva’s Key West home, in an alley behind a touristy seafood restaurant and bar. Once more, Blas wished she could use her vyrm powers to flash directly where she needed to be. She did not want to get caught out in the open, blocks away from a Harrowgate.
Cursing her mother’s poor choices, she slipped out of the alley and fell in with a group of rowdy tourists enjoying the last remnants of evening twilight. Key West was one of the few places that had escaped most of the recent apocalyptic mayhem, and because of that, it had become a popular getaway for those seeking temporary asylum from the disaster that was the human realm.
Deva’s pastel green and orange beach house sat at the end of a quiet drive, goofy plastic pink flamingos dotting the manicured lawn like fleas on a dog. As Blas approached, she engaged the False Angel ability to go invisible, one of the False Angel gifts Blaspheme rarely used. But as she slowly opened the front door, an uncomfortable vibration rattled her, and she looked down to see that she was flickering in and out of invisibility.
“Damn,” she breathed. How much longer did she have before she was going to be exposed for what she really was?
She took a deep, bracing breath to keep panic at bay. The door swung open with a squeak, and holy shit, the place was trashed. She’d expected a scene from a battle, and sure enough, furniture was turned over and broken, dishes were shattered, and blood spatter and smears left ugly stains on the once-pristine white walls and bamboo floors.
But what she hadn’t expected was the ransacking. Books had been knocked off shelves, drawers had been emptied, and papers were scattered all over the place. Someone had been looking for something, but what?
Letting go of the invisibility enchantment since it wasn’t working anyway, she grabbed a butcher knife off the kitchen counter and tested the blade. The stupid knife was dull and chipped, as if Deva had been using it to chop wood. How handy it would be right now to have the vyrm ability to summon powerful weapons instead of relying on what amounted to a large butter knife for defense.
Dull-ass weapon in hand, she tiptoed to the bedroom, checking all of the closets to make sure she was alone – not that the angels who did this couldn’t flash inside again at any moment.
As she moved to the bathroom, a crash rang out. Heart pounding, she whirled, blade poised to strike. Across the room, the blinds crashed again, blown through the open ocean-facing window.
“Damn,” she muttered. She was going to have a heart attack before she got out of here.
Feeling a little foolish, she went to the den and sat down in front of the glowing computer screen on the desk. When her mother wasn’t out partying and causing trouble, she was on the computer, which meant that somewhere on the hard drive there had to be information about the False Angel she planned to trap.
A hasty scan of the computer’s history showed that on the day of the attack, her mother had been reading articles at theCHIVE and downloading some disturbing fetish and vampire porn that would never allow her to look her mother in the eye again. She’d also been instant messaging someone named SexySweetXOXO. A lover, maybe? Did she have a partner in crime?
She opened up the app, and right away, a message popped up.
SexySweetXOXO: Hello, darling. You left our chat so abruptly yesterday. Is everything okay?
Blas had no idea how to respond to that, and seriously, couldn’t her mother have chosen any name but HornyAsHell69? Ew. Just… ew. And why in the hell was her avatar a good-looking black dude? Was she pretending to be a male?
She thought about ignoring SexySweetXOXO, but according to the time on the last conversation, chatting with SexySweetXOXO had been one of the last things her mother did before she was attacked.
Okay, so she’d play along for a few minutes, even though SexySweetXOXO’s avatar was a butt with an angel tattoo on the right cheek.
HornyAsHell69: Sorry I had to go so suddenly. I had an unexpected visitor, but I’m fine.
SexySweetXOXO: Are we still on for a good time?
Well, crap. Unsure how to respond, she settled for playing dumb.
HornyAsHell69: Remind me what you consider a good time. I know what MY idea is.
SexySweetXOXO: I’m going to show you what Heaven tastes like, my sweet boy.
Boy? Okay, so her mother was masquerading as a male. Interesting. And weird.
SexySweetXOXO: Did you still want to meet?
Meet? What in the name of everything unholy was Deva getting herself into?
HornyAsHell69: Let me get back to you. Something may have come up.
SexySweetXOXO: Aw. :-( Let me show you a little something that might encourage you to cancel whatever it is.
A picture popped up in the IM screen of a naked blond female sitting on a bed. She was holding her breasts provocatively, her legs spread wide, her ivory stilettos digging into the mattress.
Massive gossamer wings spread out from behind her, which could have been faked… except that they weren’t. Not if her sparkly, translucent pubic hair was real.
SexySweetXOXO was a False Angel. The chosen sacrifice.
Feeling sick, Blasp
heme leaned back in her mother’s leather desk chair. This was how Deva had planned to trap the False Angel. By pretending to be a human male, Deva was luring this female to her house, where, no doubt, a trap visible only to Deva’s eyes was waiting to snap closed.
SexySweetXOXO: I’m ready for you. I have your addy, and I’ll be at your place at nine o’clock to make every one of your angel fantasies come true.
Another picture popped up, this time with her bent over – still naked, of course – her perky, round ass sticking up as she spread herself with her fingers. Her wings fanned out over the bed, where dozens of assorted sex toys lay strewn about.
Aaand… that was about enough of that.
HornyAsHell69: You’re gorgeous, babe. But I changed my mind. I’m not into angels anymore.
SexySweetXOXO: I can be anything you want me to be.
Blas sighed. Thanks, Mother, for choosing a False Angel who is clearly desperate and ready to screw complete strangers. Granted, that description fit most False Angels, but criminy, Blaspheme did not want to be absorbing that kind of personality.
Blas figured she should be grateful that her mother hadn’t chosen to sacrifice a soul-eating fugwart or a Sensor demon, which lived to destroy half-breeds like herself. She couldn’t imagine a life in which she had to kill demons who had the misfortune of being born to the wrong parents the way she had.
Okay, time to make this False Angel go away for good. Blas didn’t trust her mother not to attempt to reestablish the relationship and snatch the female no matter what Blaspheme’s wishes were.
HornyAsHell69: Thanks, but no. I found someone else to meet my angel fetish needs.
An image of Revenant popped into her mind, and she quickly banished it. Not only was he not an angel, there was no room in her head for him. Although she couldn’t deny that picturing him naked was so much better than having the image of SexySweetXOXO’s bubble butt and cotton candy cooch in her brain.
HornyAsHell69: Don’t contact me again, and if for some reason I contact you in the future, ignore it. It just means I’m drunk, and I’m a mean drunk.
SexySweetXOXO: Asshole. Good luck finding a fuck as good as I am. I’m going to make sure you get kicked off every angel fetish forum on the Internet. Fuck off, punk.
Oh, good, SexySweetXOXO was a sore loser as well. Deva sure knew how to pick ’em.
Feeling like she’d dodged a bullet, Blas shut down IM and poked around the computer a little more, figuring that while she was here, she might as well look for anything that might have tipped off Eradicators as to her mother’s identity.
Nothing. Not unless the angels who attacked were into full-moon werewolf porn and male-on-male vampire sex. Blas had to admit, though, that the vampire videos were kind of hot.
Another search of the house revealed exactly the same; nothing. Frustrated, she straightened the place up a little, and by the time the moon had climbed high overhead, she was starving.
She was about to head for the Harrowgate when her cell rang with Underworld General Clinic’s “Bark at the Moon” ringtone. Rumor had it that Ozzy had recorded the song as the theme for the hospital, but Eidolon would neither confirm nor deny.
She pushed the Answer button. “Doctor Blaspheme.”
“Blas.” Gem’s breathless voice rasped over the phone line. “It’s your mom. She’s in trouble.”
Nine
Blaspheme hit the nearest Harrowgate at a run. The moment the gate closed behind her, the walls inside the dark space lit up with glowing maps of both Sheoul and the Earthly realm, but she didn’t need either of those. Instead, she punched Underworld General Hospital’s caduceus symbol, right next to the smaller clinic symbol that would have taken her to the clinic’s Tube platform entrance. Instantly, the gate opened into UG’s bustling emergency department.
Rushing past a Croucher demon who was holding his own bloody ear in his clawed hand, she slammed her palms down on the reception desk. “Where is Deva?”
The nurse, a new vampire recruit named Bridgette, looked up from her computer. “Your mother?”
Dammit, Blas hadn’t wanted that to get out. Even though she’d stressed the adoptive mother thing, she knew how rumors worked. The adoptive part of the equation would be dropped in conversation eventually, and then the speculation as to how Blaspheme could be a False Angel if her mother was a fallen angel would start.
“My adoptive mother, yes,” Blas ground out. “Where is she?”
“She’s been transferred here from the clinic and taken to OR three,” Bridgette said. “She —”
Blas didn’t wait for the rest. She took off at a sprint, skidding around corners and crashing into equipment and carts in the halls. As the door to the operating room came into view, Gem stepped out, her blue-striped black hair tucked under a surgical cap.
“Gem!” Panting from exertion, Blas came to a grinding halt in front of the other physician. “What happened?”
“She had a cardiac incident an hour ago. A team was able to revive her, and we got her into surgery right away.”
“An hour ago? Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“There was a mix-up… I’m sorry. Your old home phone number was in the records, and when that didn’t work, someone tasked someone else to call your cell… it was a fuckup. We’ll address it at the next staff meeting so it doesn’t happen again.”
Oh, they’d sure as hell address that. But right now, she was more worried about her mother.
“Who is in there with her now?”
“Docs Soduchi and Bane,” Gem said. “She’s in good hands.”
Yes, she was. Bane, one of several Seminus demon brothers Eidolon had hired, was extremely talented, even beyond his natural healing abilities. Soduchi had been a more recent addition to Underworld General, stolen away from the Mayo Clinic a couple of months ago. The noted cardiac surgeon was a werewolf, and when the apocalyptic shit had gone down, his true identity had nearly been exposed in all of the chaos. It had been the perfect time for Eidolon to poach him – and several other ter’taceo medical specialists who had been working at human hospitals and clinics.
Too bad Soduchi was an arrogant ass. But then, most surgeons were. No werewolf blood needed for that. Just a medical degree.
Gem slung her arm around Blaspheme and guided her toward the operating room’s viewing area. “Let’s get you settled.”
Blas, exhausted and worried, allowed the other female to take her into “the box,” where she watched Soduchi and the rest of his team work on her mother.
“Can I bring you anything?” Gem asked as she sank down in the seat next to Blaspheme. “Coffee? Something to eat?”
“Thank you,” Blas said, “but no. Go ahead and get back to work. I’ll be fine.”
Gem’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You sure? Because I can stay.”
Blaspheme liked Gem, but right now she just needed some space. So much had happened in the last few hours, and she felt like she was going to break down at any minute.
No witnesses, her mother always told her. False Angels’ tears are an aphrodisiac to some, toxic to many. You don’t want to accidentally poison someone.
Now that the False Angel enchantment was fading, Blaspheme’s tears were probably not liquid sex or toxic anymore, but she didn’t want to test that theory. Not that she planned on crying, but as tired as she was, she couldn’t take any chances.
Gem made promises to check in soon and left Blaspheme to observe the surgery in peace. Thankfully, everything was going well, so well that at some point, she dozed off. She woke four hours later to the sound of the door swinging open, and a boar-like Guai nurse named Chu-hua entered, her hooved feet clacking on the floor.
“Gem asked me to bring you these lab results,” she said in her squealing, piggy voice. “She brought you a sandwich and coffee earlier.” She gestured to the tray of food with one hand and handed her a folder with the other.
Blaspheme gazed out at the surgery, which appeared to be winding down. “Thank
you, Chu-hua. And please thank Gem for me.”
Chu-hua smiled, her top lip catching on her tusks, and then she ducked out of there in another clack of hooved feet.
Blas looked down at the folder. Patient name: Gethel.
She scanned the contents quickly, but the intercom buzzing interrupted her. She looked out the window at the operating theater to see Soduchi giving her a thumbs-up through the glass.
Relieved, Blas shot out of the viewing area, her stiff legs protesting as she stepped into the hall and paced while she waited for Soduchi to come out of the OR.
Thirty seconds into her pace-fest, a tingle in her spine alerted her to a presence, and she knew exactly who she’d see when she turned around. Sure enough, Revenant was sauntering down the hall, his long legs eating up the distance, his black leather coat flapping around his boots, his predatory gaze fixed on her.
Geez, he was punctual. Yesterday she’d told him to come back tomorrow, and here he was, six o’clock in the morning, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She, on the other hand, must look like she’d slept on a bed of nails.
Groaning softly, she watched him approach. He might be the sexiest evil bastard in existence, but dealing with him was the last thing she needed right now.
“Revenant,” she said. “Can I meet up with you in fifteen minutes? You can wait in the UG lobby or in my office at UGC —”
Naturally, Soduchi came out of the OR at the same time Revenant stopped in front of her.
“Dr. Soduchi,” she said quickly, heading him off before he could start off his report with the words Your mother. Gods, this masquerade was turning complicated, messy, and stressful as hell. “How is the patient?”
“I couldn’t do anything about the previous damage, but she’s out of immediate danger. Bane is finishing up with her.” Soduchi tore the green surgical cap off his head, revealing his severe blond high-and-tight that suited his hard-core personality. “I assumed she threw a clot as a result of a surgical complication, but it turns out there was a foreign blockage in the inferior vena cava that resulted in her heart attack.”
