Born to Raise Hell: The Owl Shifter Chronicles Book Three

by Qatarina Wanders

  “That’s why you spent some of those days at my house, right?” Emily asked. “You were fighting with your parents?”

  Joanna nodded. “You see why I don’t understand why you want to believe so hard that my parents care about anything other than themselves.”

  Emily sighed. She saw where Joanna was coming from with her line of reasoning. But it just didn’t work that way. At least, not for Joanna. She couldn’t hate Joanna’s parents just because they hated her. And she wasn’t going to condemn them or judge them just because they did her.

  “I’m just saying, talk to them,” Emily pushed. “I won’t tell you how to relate to your parents or whether you should forgive them or not. I’ll leave that decision up to you because, in the end, you’re going to live with that decision.

  “All I’m telling you is to give them a chance to explain to you why they did what they did. Give them a chance to make it right. I’m saying this because I never got that chance with my mom, and I’ll have to live with that regret for the rest of my life.” Her heartbeat sped up as she recalled what Aunt Anastacia had said about the possibility her mom was still within reach somehow.

  Silence.

  Joanna knew that Emily’s mom was a touchy subject for Emily. So every time Emily brought it up, it struck a strong chord with both of them.

  Joanna let out a loud exhale, then she chuckled. “Well, if it’s any consolation, we might not be alive for too long anyway.”

  Emily cracked a tight-lipped smile. “I know, right?”

  Joanna nodded as she snapped up to a sitting position and climbed out of the bed. “I’m going to talk with them, but you’re coming with me.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Emily complained. “You said it yourself; they don’t like me that much.”

  “Yeah, well they can suck it,” Joanna huffed, “but you’re coming with me.”

  Emily tried for another time to dissuade Joanna from that decision.

  Joanna refused to budge.

  “It’s either you go with me or I don’t go at all.” Joanna stomped her foot to drive her point home further. “We’re in this together.”

  “Okay, sure, why not?” Emily muttered through the side of her mouth as she climbed out of bed and, with no lack of hesitation, led Joanna out of the room.

  The moment they were in the corridor, they saw Michael exiting the anteroom. He was wearing what looked like a sparring uniform with chest and shin guards. His body was smoking—yes, smoking—as though he’d just put out a fire.

  His face was twisted in a gruesome frown. He passed by them on his way to his room, flashing them a cold look, and grunting, and then he entered his room, slamming the door behind him.

  “What was that all about?” asked Joanna, surprised.

  Emily shrugged. “Maybe his training session with Aunt Anastacia didn’t go well.”

  Joanna glanced at Emily. “How’s that working out for the three of you? I mean, he’s your brother and she’s his aunty. Must be quite weird.”

  Emily thought of it. “Sometimes. But most times, no. At least not yet. He seems to have accepted the fact that Aunt Anastacia is also his aunt without qualms. Maybe because he thinks she’s really cool with all her magical powers, I guess.”

  “Let me guess, he still hates you?”

  Emily hissed. “Not more than usual. It just hurts more for me since, well, he’s my brother, and I’ve always wanted a sibling.”

  “Ouch,” was all Joanna said. After a moment, she added, “I might have an idea about Marion.”

  Emily’s heart climbed her chest.

  “Let’s get done with Mom and Dad, first.”

  They came to the door that said: Mr. and Mrs. Russo.

  “Are you ready?” asked Emily.

  Joanna shrugged, brushed past Emily, and pushed the door open. They entered a dark room. Light from the corridor flashed into the area, revealing two figures in armchairs. Their arms were bound against them, and their legs were bound together. They weren’t blindfolded, so the moment the light came into the room, they had to shut their eyes.

  Joanna shared a wary look with Emily.

  Emily nodded, egging her on. “Lights,” Emily said out loud.

  Overhead fluorescent lights came on, flooding the room.

  9

  Emily closed the door behind them.

  “Mom? Dad?” Joanna whispered.

  “Joanna?” Mr. Russo croaked.

  “Is that really you, Honey?” her mother asked.

  “Yes.” Joanna slowly crept toward them.

  The man and woman in the armchairs by the window squinted their eyes at the flood of light overhead. They had been in darkness since they were brought there, so their eyes were taking a moment to adjust to the new status quo.

  There were no other armchairs in the bedroom, but the bed was empty, so Joanna motioned for Emily to take a seat there.

  Emily gave her friend a nervous look. Joanna returned it with a stern frown and another gesture for her to sit on the bed. Emily complied meekly.

  After Mr. and Mrs. Russo could see clearly in the room, their first instinct was to look at Emily—the rage in their eyes made Emily feel like shrinking into her skin.

  “What is she doing here?” Mrs. Russo asked. “She shouldn’t be here. This is a special moment for us.”

  “I asked her to be here.” Joanna wasn’t hiding the bitterness from her tone. “In fact, the only reason I’m here is because she’s damn stubborn, and she used her stubbornness to get me to talk to you.”

  “What?” Mrs. Russo croaked, uncertainty fleeting across her face. Then her face hardened and she glared at Emily again. It was always Emily. “What did you tell her?”

  “Leave her be!” Joanna snapped, stomping her feet into the hardwood floor. This caused the two bound Russos to jump. “She told me the truth,” Joanna continued, her voice filled with bitterness. She was also on the verge of tears, and Emily was beginning to see how bad of an idea this was.

  “She told me what you did,” Joanna snarled. “She told me how you sold out the whole town—or the whole human race, really.”

  “We did it to protect you.” Tears brimmed in her mother’s eyes. This couldn’t have been easy for her, seeing her child reject her like this. “We did it because we love you.”

  “You should have trusted the vigilantes!” Joanna shouted again. “You should have leaned on their knowledge. We could have fought this. We could have stopped this!”

  Mrs. Russo was crying now, as was Joanna. “Honey, there’s no stopping what’s coming. It doesn’t matter what Emily and her band of merry fighters do; the ritual will be performed; the world will end. We basically made good use of a bad situation.”

  “That’s not helping your case, Mom!” Joanna retorted, wiping her eyes clean.

  “It’s the truth,” Mrs. Russo reasserted. “The Alfreds are only pawns in a larger, grander plan. If he fails, his master will not fail.”

  Joanna sniffed twice, trying to curtail her tears. “And who is his master?”

  Mr. Russo cleared his throat at this point. He was the picture of perfect tranquility. While his wife was a nervous and emotional wreck, he wore only a grim look on his face. His eyes were passive and void of emotion. His teeth seemed to be set on edge. He held his daughter’s gaze for a moment and then said with a rasp of air, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

  Joanna scoffed. “Well, your deal didn’t work out very well, did it? If you bargained for my life, then the Alfreds double-crossed you because they caught me, threw me into a dungeon, and tortured me for two days before my friends came to rescue me.”

  “What?” Mrs. Russo blurted, shock plastered on her face.

  Joanna’s lips twitched. “What, didn’t they tell you?” Joanna exchanged a glance with Emily. Emily shook her head slightly.

  “They just told us they found you in the dungeon and rescued you,” Mrs. Russo replied.

  Joanna shrugged. “Obviously, you can�
�t trust the Alfreds.”

  “No, it turns out we can’t.” Mr. Russo thought deeply for a second before he said, “The true evil rove is not Gregory Alfred. It’s his master. Gregory is just a tool, just like he uses supernatural means to guard his house.”

  “Tell us something we don’t already know,” scoffed his daughter.

  “We never got the chance to meet this evil rove,” said Mr. Russo, “but we know that the Alfreds, all of them, fear him greatly. He is the one who wants to take over the world. He’s the one who wants to rule everything living and dead.”

  “So who is he?” Emily heard herself say. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t trust Joanna to ask the right question. If Emily had learned anything from living with Aunt Anastacia these past few days, it’s that knowing about a magician, especially his ancestry, was a powerful way to gain the advantage over him.

  If Emily could find out the evil rove’s real name, maybe they could come one step closer to defeating him.

  “We don’t know,” Mrs. Russo replied when her husband kept mum. “All we know is that he has been seen only by two people in this town.”

  “Who?” asked Joanna.

  “Gregory Alfred,” said Mr. Russo. “He communes with the evil rove every other day.”

  “The second person?” asked Emily.

  “John Davies.” Mr. Russo looked Emily in the eyes. “Your father.”

  Something snapped within Emily, and she jumped to her feet. “You’re lying!”

  “No, I’m not!” Mr. Russo retorted. “The evil rove has appeared to your dad before, on the night your mother convinced Everet to kill her.”

  Emily staggered back. She felt as though the wind had been driven out of her lungs. She struggled to breathe for a moment as she tried to gain her bearings.

  “Everet killed my mother because she was an Owl and he was a vigilante,” Emily corrected the man, even though she sounded weak and unconvinced. “My dad said the evil rove that accosted him was Gregory. He would swear to it.” The more she spoke, the bolder she got. “You’re lying! You’re trying to cause a rift in our family. Our team.”

  No one countered her.

  Emily snarled at the man. “Even in defeat, even when it’s all over for you, you still try to help the Alfreds. You must be ashamed of yourself.”

  At that, Mr. Russo barked a terrible laugh. “Now who is deluded?” he sneered. “If you don’t know the real history of your family, is it my fault? Ask Everet. He’ll tell you how it happened. And the evil rove that visited your father wasn’t Gregory. It was The Man. He manipulated your father’s mind and memory. He sent you threatening text messages as well.”

  Emily’s mind was unraveling. This whole time, she thought it had been Gregory Alfred. “But it doesn’t make sense. If it was The Man, then he’s pretty sloppy because Aunt Anastacia was able to deconstruct the spell in a day.”

  Mr. Russo laughed again. And this time, the action made Emily rear back a bit.

  “He’s playing a game with you,” said Mr. Russo. “That’s all I can say about it. The Man is a very patient creature. Even though he’s enormously powerful, he enjoys the thrill of the hunt. He sees all your efforts as futile, but he lets it go on. When he’s tired of all this delay, all he needs to do is walk out of the darkness and into the light. Everyone will bow to him. No one can withstand his power. Not even you, Emily Davies.”

  “You see?” Mrs. Russo said to her daughter. “You see why we made the deal? To ensure the human race continues, because I don’t think he plans on leaving very many people alive during his conquest.”

  Joanna glanced at Emily. “Have you had enough?”

  Emily nodded.

  Joanna glanced back at her parents. “We need to contact Marion Alfred. Any ideas on how we can reach him?”

  Mr. Russo suddenly looked desperate. “There’s a way we can stop them. The Alfreds. Maybe we can stop The Man as well.”

  Emily knew where Mr. Russo was going. “It’s nonsense.”

  “What is it?” Joanna quizzed.

  Mr. Russo smiled. “She hasn’t told you, has she?”

  Joanna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my gaaawwwd, Dad.” Then she turned to Emily. “What now?”

  “They want me to kill myself,” groaned Emily. “And use my life to make the whole vigilante task force immune to magic. They believe the vigilantes will be able to defeat the Alfreds if magic didn’t work on them.”

  “Not just the vigilantes, but The Man,” Mr. Russo reasoned, looking a bit maniacal. “After all, with all his power, he’s still really a magician.”

  Joanna hadn’t taken her eyes off of Emily. “C’mon, let’s get the heck out of here.”

  Emily didn’t respond at first, so Joanna took her by the hand and led her out of the room. Just as Joanna was about to shut the door, her father called out: “Marion always has his cell with him. If one of you has his phone number, you can call him.”

  Yeah right.

  Joanna shut the door. They were now in the corridor, which was empty by this time of the day.

  The girls could hear heated arguments coming from the anteroom. Emily recognized Dad’s and Everet’s voices. She figured they’d started talking about their issues. She hoped they reached a resolution before it was time to fight the Alfreds.

  “What was that about killing you?” Joanna was frowning at her. It was a serious moment for Joanna, and whatever joke that might have come into Emily’s mind was pulverized instantly.

  Emily told her about the discussion they’d had about it. She explained how Joanna’s father had even tried to bully the vigilante boss into apprehending Emily to be used for the procedure.

  Joanna looked horrified. “He did that?”

  Emily tried to look sympathetic as she nodded her head. She didn’t blame the Russos for what they’d tried to do. Fear made people do very stupid things. Emily didn't want Joanna to develop any further hatred for her parents. “It was probably a moment of weakness for them,” Emily gave the excuse. “I’m sure they never meant it.”

  Joanna shook her head, turned away from Emily, and leaned her back against the wall. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m really scared, Babe.”

  Emily leaned against the wall with her friend, moving close to her so their shoulders touched. She might not have all the answers for herself or for Joanna, but at least they had each other again.

  “I’ve never seen my parents this terrified before,” her friend went on. “I’ve never seen them this ruthless.” She turned to look into Emily’s eyes.

  Emily returned her friend’s intense look.

  “If they say it’s going to be tough, it’s going to be tough.” Joanna squeezed Emily’s hand as she spoke. “If they say we can’t make it, I seriously doubt our chances of survival.”

  “We have a strategy.” Emily refused to believe they had no chance in this fight. “I’m The Owl—a freaking fire demon. Michael is in training. If we get through to Marion, and I’m able to persuade him to relinquish some of his blood, then we can make weapons that will render the Alfreds powerless.”

  “It’s not about the Alfreds anymore.” Joanna sounded defeated. “This ‘Man’ my dad talked about—he made it seem as though he’s all powerful and all our contriving will be useless. When The Man is ready to end this game, he will, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “And you believe him, don’t you?”

  Joanna nodded. She looked into Emily’s eyes, terrified beyond her wits. “I’ve watched my dad for so many years, Emily. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve never known him to be wrong about anything.”

  10

  And if Joanna believed her dad was right, then Emily believed it as well. But did that mean they should give up and not even fight? It seemed foolhardy not to at least try. What if The Man made a costly mistake they could capitalize on but couldn’t because they weren’t prepared?

  So they had to try. They had to. There was no other option.

 
; Well, there was, but it was to stand and watch the world burn. They couldn’t very well do that now, could they?

  “We have to try, Babe,” Emily said to Joanna, stroking her upper arm. “If we don’t, we might as well just kill ourselves.”

  Joanna stiffened at that. She snapped away from the wall and stood in front of Emily. “I need you to make me a promise.”

  Emily suspected where Joanna was going with this promise thing, and she wasn’t really able to make such a promise. So she tried to ignore Joanna. This was a tall order, considering the fact that Joanna was standing in front of her, staring at her fiercely.

  “Emily?”

  “Yeah? What promise?”

  “That whatever happens, no matter how ugly it gets, you will never, ever kill yourself to make it all go away. Promise?”

  Emily shook her head. “I’m not sure I can—”

  “Promise!” Joanna grabbed her by her arms and shook her.

  “Cut it out, Joanna,” Emily cried, but Joanna refused.

  “You can’t ever do that to yourself.” Joanna sounded frantic. “You can’t ever do that to me. To us. It’s wrong. Killing yourself—”

  “It’s what my mother did.” Emily’s voice broke with tears. “It’s what her father did. They did it in different ways, but the effect was always the same.”

  Joanna staggered back. “What are you talking about?”

  Emily told her a little of her family history. She told her how Mom had to die because Aunt Anastacia was already in the hands of the evil rove. That’s when Emily paused as a new puzzle piece started to fall into place in her mind.

  Joanna’s eyes got big. “Your aunt has been in the clutches of the evil rove before? She should know his real identity. She should know that he’s not Gregory Alfred.”

  “Yes, she should,” squeaked Emily. “But she didn’t say anything about it. She asked my dad to confirm that Gregory was the evil rove, and my dad did.”

  “She’s lying then?”

  “Well, it’s either she’s lying to me, or your parents are lying to me,” Emily said, meeting Joanna’s gaze.