He didn’t like seeing him trapped on a small island in a lava river way down at the bottom of a cliff.
Ronan probably didn’t enjoy it either.
Sam considered going after him to help, but Blix hadn’t come back up. Without an ‘imp-a-chute’ to change a fall into a gliding descent, he’d definitely go straight into the lava.
The tall demon walked up beside Sam, peering down. “I hadn’t expected him to jump.”
“He didn’t jump. He forgot we were standing by a cliff and backed up too much. He fell.”
“True.”
“What’s your name?” asked Sam.
“Olmaz.” The demon struck a commanding pose. “I used to be known as Dal’Olmazkaggan the Bleak, Steward of the Fourth Plane of Torment.”
“Why’d you change it?”
“Wouldn’t fit on my Discover card.”
Sam glanced up at the demon. “You actually use Discover?”
“What other card would a demon have?” Olmaz started to chuckle, but stopped at the blank look on Sam’s face. “You don’t really understand, do you?”
“No. My dad always makes fun of them ’cause nowhere we go ever takes it.”
“Ahh yes. A delightful bit of tedium.”
“You torture and torment people?” asked Sam.
“Not in the way you’re thinking. My torments are more subtle. I make toilet seats cold in the middle of the night. Drain the ink from ball point pens at DMVs and post offices.” He examined his claws. “Make traffic in the other lane move, but as soon as you change lanes into the one where it’s going, it stops. Then the one you were in starts moving. My greatest achievement is the USB device. Despite having only two ways to orient, it invariably takes three tries to insert.”
“Wow, that’s… not really evil. More frustrating,” muttered Sam.
“Exactly.” Olmaz bowed. “My name change came about when the council realized I far more enjoyed a well-written epic fantasy novel to inciting bloodbaths.”
“Ahh.”
Olmaz whispered, “They demoted me” past the back of his hand.
Sam blinked.
“Hah.” Olmaz chuckled. “I’m teasing you. My name is and has always been simply Olmaz.” He waved dismissively while rolling his eyes. “I am not one of those self-important puffins from the Lower Three.”
Sam offered a handshake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam Wright. It’s technically Samuel, but no one ever calls me that except for my mother when she’s scared or super angry.”
Olmaz shook hands with him. “Pleasure to meet you, Sam.”
“Same.” Sam looked over at the demon. He only came up to the creature’s waist, but for some reason, had no fear whatsoever of him. “What did you mean by Lower Three?”
“Planes. Demonic realms.”
“Hell?”
“Some humans refer to them as such.” Olmaz shrugged. “We aim to please… beyond your dimension, reality tends to bend itself to suit the expectations of the observer. If a mortal spirit enters it expecting to find Hell, they will.”
“Oh.” Sam nodded. “I guess the Lower Three are the worst ones? You must put all the really bad guys down there.”
“Indeed. It’s mostly telemarketers and those people who pester everyone about extending automotive warranties.”
Sam chuckled.
Ronan wailed. Probably screamed ‘help’ but at the distance, his voice melted into a wordless sound.
“Wow, umm. Mom’s not going to believe I met a nice demon.”
“Ahh… humans.” Olmaz let out a long sigh. “To be fair, my kind are not so different. Some are good, some bad, but most of us are somewhere in between. I suppose more of us are bad than humans, but we haven’t exactly had the best public relations department.”
“Yeah.” Sam scrunched his nose. “Most people are afraid of demons.”
“Humans who don’t immediately condemn us for how we look are quite rare. I am surprised by you, Sam. Especially a boy your age.”
Sam peered down at Ronan, worried but feeling powerless to do anything. “How someone looks doesn’t mean anything. It’s how they act.”
Olmaz smiled.
“Saaaaam!” yelled Ronan. “It’s hot down here. Help! I think my sneakers are melting.”
Blix appeared to be trying to pull the boy into the air, but laced the wing power.
Sam looked up at Olmaz. “Can you please help my friend back up here before he catches fire?”
“Would you possibly be willing to do me a favor?” Olmaz raised one brow, the yellow light in the eye under it growing brighter.
“I know you’re not asking me to do a favor in exchange for helping Ro, so can we discuss it after he isn’t about to catch fire?”
Olmaz bowed. “You are correct. His being down there is my fault after all.”
“Thanks.” Sam smiled, then cupped his hands around his mouth before shouting, “Hang on, Ro. He’s gonna help.”
“Please remove your shirt,” said Olmaz.
Sam blinked. Umm. This is probably going to hurt, but I can’t let Ro cook. He shrugged, then pulled his shirt off. The cave was certainly warm enough not to be uncomfortable while shirtless.
Olmaz gingerly spun him to face away and rested one hand atop his head. Two points of fiery pain pierced into his back, near his shoulder blades. He held totally still despite having demon claws embedded at least an inch deep into his body. They burned bad enough a few tears seeped from his eyes, though he didn’t make a noise. Ronan looked terrified, and kept screaming for help.
A moment later, a pair of demonic wings sprouted from the claw marks in Sam’s back with a leathery ‘umbrella snapping open’ noise. Once the burning lessened enough to where he no longer needed every ounce of concentration not to scream, he exhaled and admired his new body parts. The leading edge felt like rubbery skin, thick and probably armored, the same dark crimson as Olmaz. Membranes like bat wings between the spars appeared so black they seemed to be holes in reality. When the pain stopped entirely, Sam experimented trying to move them.
The complete oddity of having two additional limbs faded in mere seconds. He stretched the wings out, collapsed them, stretched them.
“Umm, are you making me into a part demon?”
“No,” said Olmaz. “It is temporary. Think of it like a spell similar to what your sister does.”
“So it’s going to go crazy and do something weird?”
Olmaz laughed.
Sam grinned. “I get it. This is like a temporary conjuration buff for flight power.”
“Erm…” Olmaz tapped a clawed finger to his chin. “I have existed for over a thousand years and have not the first clue what you just said.”
“It’s from the roleplaying game my dad sometimes runs for us. The beastmaster class has a spell to grow wings for an hour. So… am I magic too?”
Olmaz shifted his jaw to the side, still looking bewildered. “Your family line is connected to those who were once known to wield such abilities. It has been dormant for many generations.”
“This is awesome!” Sam stretched his wings out to either side. “Is this just now to help Ro or can I do this again?”
“We can discuss that once your friend is no longer about to catch fire.” Olmaz smiled. “Then you can hear my proposal.”
Sam dropped his shirt on the ground and walked to the edge. “Okay. Be right back.”
He jumped.
“Wait!” called Olmaz, reaching for him but missing. “You didn’t ask me how to use them.”
Screaming in glee from the sheer awesomeness of flying, Sam careened down toward Ronan. Having gone flying with Sarah several times—admittedly as little more than a backpack—the orientation and general feel of it didn’t seem alien. As if he’d been flying from birth, he pulled out of the dive, circled the island over the lava river once to bleed off speed, then swung his feet down to land beside Ronan.
“What the frick!” shouted Ronan, staring at him.
&n
bsp; “Whoa,” muttered Blix. “Your Mom’s going to lose her mind.”
“Both you guys, chill.” Sam held his hands up. “It’s temporary.”
“Umm, so… you’re gonna carry me up?” Ronan stared at the ledge overhead. “Are you strong enough?”
“I have to be. Why else would Olmaz let me borrow wings?”
Blix folded his tiny arms. “He’s the demon who drains ink from pens at government offices. He’d do it for the laugh.”
“Heh.” Sam chuckled. “I trust him. He felt believable.”
“Hurry up. It’s so hot.” Ronan hopped from foot to foot.
Sam glanced around at the lava. Even though glowing molten rock passed less than ten feet away on either side, standing there didn’t feel much worse than being outside in the summer. “It’s not that hot.”
“Look at me.” Ronan flapped his shirt, which had drenched in sweat. “I’m about to pass out. And your jeans are smoking.”
Sam glanced down at himself. Sure enough, a faint wisp of smoke peeled away from his pants a few inches above his sneakers. Has to be the spell. I’m resistant to fire right now. “Sweeeeeeet.”
“My hero,” said Ronan overacting the ‘princess’ and swooning into his arms.
“Ha. Ha.” Sam lifted him—with some difficulty—arranging him sideways before extending his wings and flapping.
Despite looking like they’d be better for gliding than power-flapping, the wings offered a surprising amount of thrust. Sam cruised upward, zig-zagging back and forth as going straight up proved a little too slow while carrying another kid the same size as him. It took him about two minutes to reach the opening in the side of a jet-black mountain seemingly miles tall.
He landed a little hard, Ronan’s weight pulling them forward into a pratfall.
“Wow. Thanks.” Ronan made no effort to get up, lying there with his arms out to either side.
“Are you okay?” Sam sat back on his heels, kneeling beside him.
“Not sure. Trying to decide if I’m scared or if that was the coolest thing ever.”
Sam shrugged, his wings matching the gesture. “Could be both.”
The wings disappeared.
Aww. Oh well. Ro’s safe.
Hooves clomped up behind Sam.
He glanced up at Olmaz, who offered him back his shirt. “My apologies, Ronan, for startling you off the edge. Sam, are you ready to hear my proposal?”
“Sure.” He pulled his shirt back on, then stood. “I have room in my quest journal.”
19
Keep it Believable
It’s amazing what a nice car ride with the family and some light kidnapping can do for my mood.
Turns out, I’d been taken to the woods east of Astoria, Oregon. It’s not too far from home, but still a bit of a hike. Since the vampires who grabbed me had been obliging enough to leave some mind-controlled humans to watch over me and make sure no one interfered in my appointment with combustion, I had to take advantage of the situation. So thoughtful of Mohawk and Mr. Pistol to leave me snacks.
The experience drained me big time, and with the sun still out, I didn’t have any more strength than a normal person. Kinda surreal watching my father handcuff and chain up three guys before he and Sierra carried them to the Tahoe. Even more surreal watching Sierra helping carry grown men. I know this isn’t going to end well. Giving a twelve-year-old vampire blood is going to do something to her that ought not to be done. I mean they have warnings about giving kids her age too much caffeine, right?
Hate to admit it, but if Dad showed up alone, he wouldn’t have been able to help me.
No point thinking about it since it didn’t happen. I barely held it together when we got home. Roasting all damn day left me so hungry, instinct came close to making me pounce my sisters or Dad for food. It’s scary to think about, but having those three guys close at hand and knowing food was only a few minutes away is probably the only thing letting me contain the hunger long enough to get to the basement.
Also, having three men to bite let me feed enough to recover without killing any of them.
Yeah, they attacked us, but it’s not their fault. More mind-control puppets.
The all-consuming drive to feed—a blackout—breaks when I’m finished drinking from the second man. I come up for air to find my mother arguing with Dad about us kidnapping people.
“Mom, relax.” I wave her off. “It’s only temporary. Not planning to keep them here long.”
“Oh, so only temporary kidnapping.” She facepalms. “That’s different then. Totally legal if you practice catch and release.”
Sigh. “I needed to eat real bad after the sun bake, plus I’m going spelunking in their brains. Don’t worry, Mom. They won’t remember being here or seeing any of us. Besides, we didn’t arbitrarily kidnap people. These are the bad guys. Well, the mind-controlled pawns of bad guys. Still.”
Mom nods in her ‘almost having a nervous breakdown, just do whatever and I’ll try not to think about it anymore’ way.
Dad puts an arm around her. “Your mother’s upset at me for not calling her to come with us, but can’t bring herself to say so. She’s not really upset we abducted three guys.”
“Jonathan…” Mom stares at the rug. “You know I could get disbarred for being part of committing a felony.”
“You’re not part of it dear.” Dad kisses her on the cheek. “One of the reasons I didn’t call you. Besides, you don’t have a headband.”
She groans. “I still can’t believe you brought the girls.”
My sisters stand there next to each other looking overly innocent.
“We couldn’t have found her without Coralie’s help,” I say. “And for Coralie to lead us there, we needed Sophia along.”
“What about Sierra!?” Mom gestures at her.
“He needed a hand kicking ass and taking names. Oops, we only got two names.” Sierra nudges the third guy with her foot. “What’s this guy’s name?”
“Snake to the face,” says Sophia. “That’s his name.”
“I’m going insane,” mutters Mom.
I stand and grasp her shoulders. “Relax. These guys aren’t going to remember anything. They’ll be out of here in five minutes. The handcuffs are only until I remove their mind control. We’re not kidnapping them. We’re saving them. Besides, if anyone gives you crap about it, I can fix it. This is my fault… sorta, anyway. And no, I didn’t do anything to cause this. It’s my fault for being a vampire.”
“You’ll fix it.” Mom rolls her eyes. “How deep is this rabbit hole going to go?”
“There’s a bunny?” asks Sophia in an overly cheerful tone.
Dad cracks up.
Mom looks about ready to cry, but ends up laughing.
Obviously, Sophia meant it as a joke.
I peer into my mother’s eyes. If it’s too much, I can go somewhere else. I don’t want to drive you nuts.
Mom shakes her head. No… no. Just… I’m being hit with ethical questions I can’t answer. It’s confusing and nerve wracking.
Hug time. Mom, think about it this way. I’m using vampire powers to negate the effect vampire weirdness has on our lives. It’s not unethical and it’s not a rabbit hole. The only reason these guys are here is they came after me for being a vampire. Me ending any sort of ethics investigation into your knowing about it is just resetting the world to normal… without vampires.
She nods. “Fine… Fine… just finish up what you’re doing and get them out of here. Try not to get blood in the carpet.”
“Where should I send them?”
“I dunno.” Mom waves her arms around. “Let me go check my copy of Serial Killing for Dummies.”
“Mom, stop being a drama queen.”
She points. “You have three men tied up in the basement.”
“True, but I'm not going to kill them.” I step over the third guy and crouch to feed. “Besides, they tried to kill me... and Dad.”
“Operative word being
tried.” Dad puffs up his chest.
My sisters exchange a glance of ‘wow’.
Dad’s posturing appears to remind Mom he got his butt kicked. She starts doting over him. Like a true badass, Dad winces and flinches whenever she prods a bruise.
“Oh, Sophia?” I abort the bite to glance over at her. “What did those snakes do? Am I going to poison myself?”
“No. Just made them sleep. Not real snakes.”
“Snakes?” Mom raises both eyebrows.
Sierra points a thumb at Sophia. “The guys had guns. Sophia turned their guns into snakes. Two guys dropped them right away, but one genius ran in circles holding it like when Ashley lit a pan on fire the first time she tried to cook.”
Everyone laughs.
“And it bit him in the face!” yells Sophia.
Nom time.
This guy’s blood tastes like maple syrup pancakes. Has to be from having my nose pressed against a tree for hours, even though it wasn’t a maple. Once I take my fill, I reposition to straddle him and peel his eyes open so I can stare into them.
Hmm. Interesting. In his memory, the guy’s being dragged along by hands too strong to be mortal, down what’s probably an underground corridor. There’s no light whatsoever. They stop in a large chamber, guessing based on echoes. A hand lifts this guy’s chin and red glowing eyes appear in the dark right in front of him. Before the dude can crap his pants, he’s in derpville. The glow doesn’t give away too much of the face, but it’s definitely a man… and not Stefano. Whoever set this up has long, wavy, dark hair and a goatee. Sharp nose, cold eyes. Hard to say age from such a brief glow, but wrinkles around the eyes make me think he’s in the general vicinity of fifty. At least, he’d been around fifty when he became a vampire.
Well, there’s something. I know for a fact it isn’t Stefano who arranged for my forced conversion to Greenpeace. Or Paolo. Unless, of course, they’re hiring outside help as another tool to distance themselves should the proverbial supernatural poop hit the fan.
Vampire Innocent | Book 11 | How To Stop A Vampire War In Six Easy Steps Page 17
