Fallen Angel of Mine by John Corwin
Page 3
Why in the hell was Mr. Gray sending his toy soldiers after me? What reason could he possibly have for causing such a spectacle? I didn't have time to think about it. I had to move.
I rolled to my knees and staggered upright. Every movement sent fresh stabs to my insides, tiny daggers wielded by wicked little pain fairies, the evil kin of sleep fairies. My vision faded at the edges, dissolving into static.
"Stupid gray bastards," I muttered through clenched teeth.
Without a word, or even an indication that they'd heard or understood me, they blurred forward.
I turned to run and yelped with surprise at a massive, drooling muzzle inches from my face. A gigantic hellhound, tall as my chest, blocked my way. Two more hellhounds sprang from behind bushes on either side of me. I was boxed in. Dead meat. The golems didn't seem to care or notice. They rushed full steam ahead.
Since I couldn't fly, I stopped, dropped, and rolled. My broken ribs gouged my insides like a meat grinder. But it worked. The first golem, running too fast to adjust course on the slick forest bed of pine needles, tripped over me. Smacked face-first into Gigantor, the oversized hellhound.
The hound's jaws clamped around the golem's waist and bit it clean in half, teeth shearing through fake flesh and metal bones like tin foil. The other hounds pounced on McPulperson and pal, tearing them to tiny gray shreds. The torso of the first golem pulled itself toward me by its hands. It reached for my ankle. Gigantor sank its teeth into the arm and wrenched it off with a savage jerk of its head. Then it leaned down. Sniffed the still-wriggling golem and, almost daintily nipped off the thing's head and spat it out on the ground.
Good news: The golems were dead. Bad news: I was surrounded by hellhounds. In my current condition, I wasn't outrunning a pack of demonic hounds. So I opted for the next best thing. Sweet-talking.
"Good boy," I said, reaching a very tentative hand toward the hound's lean, almost Doberman-like head. I wondered how long, if ever, it would take my arm to grow back once this thing bit it off.
It bared sharp canines and growled a deep rumbling basso, yellow eyes burning.
I backed away. "Take me to your leader?" My voice sounded distant and thick. I wondered if my healing abilities were overwhelmed from the trauma I'd suffered.
A small black ball of fur darted between the massive hound and me. It hissed and spat, fur standing on end to make it look bigger than it was. I stared in horror as Nightliss, the little cat I'd rescued from a slobbering dog at a dumpster not so long ago rawred and advanced on the creature towering over her like a giant. How had she found me? What in the hell was going on? It was like watching a crazy, surreal dream unfold right before my eyes. Then again, it could have been a hallucination thanks to brain trauma caused by McPulperson punching me in the face.
The hound's growl turned into an uncertain whine and it backed away, shaking its head in confusion and glancing at its pack mates who still surrounded us.
"Nightliss, no!" I scooped her up and cradled her to my chest. "Are you trying to get yourself eaten?"
Nightliss glared at me with angry green eyes. She meowed and struggled against my arms, setting off more agony in my snapped ribs. I set her down, expecting her to run. Instead, her body seemed to melt and flow, expanding until a very familiar and very naked girl stared at me with those same green eyes.
Chapter 3
My mouth dropped open. "You? You're Nightliss? Who—what are you?" This was the same mystery girl who'd helped me save Stacey after hellhounds nearly killed her and showed up to help me carry Elyssa from an alley after gray men attacked us in the Grotto. This couldn't be happening. Then again, only weeks ago, I would have thought none of this possible. Hellhounds, golems, vampires, demon spawn like me—all real.
And this girl was every bit as adorable as her cat form.
Nightliss brushed long, dark hair from her face and smiled. One of the hounds growled and advanced. She turned and gave it a furious glare, more cute than scary, considering she stood maybe five-feet tall. The hound whined and retreated, circling back and forth as though uncertain what to do next.
"Hi," she said, and kissed me on the nose.
"Hi?" Though petite, Nightliss possessed womanly curves, beckoning my eyes to stare. But a storm of questions overwhelmed my teenage hormones and incubus instinct. Who was this woman? Was she a felycan like Stacey? "Who—"
"Who are you to interfere in my business?" said a cold, angry voice with a British-tinted, Russian accent. The owner of the voice, a tall woman with flowing crimson hair and matching eyes, pushed past one of the hounds and planted herself in front of the diminutive woman.
The girl responded in a strange melodic language and the redheaded woman's eyes flared in either disbelief or outright surprise.
"Kassallandra," I said, unable to stop staring at the succubus my father refused to marry. She wore a slinky red dress hugging tight against her curves. A pair of expensive-looking platform heels accented smooth, fair calves, adding a bit more oomph to her curvy rear end. This woman was smoking hot in more than one sense but looked completely out of place in the woods.
She planted both fists on her hips and raised her glare to me. "I am Anae Kassallandra to you, Castratae. You would do well to remember your place rather than sully me with your words. "
"Ooh, I guess your poop doesn't stink," I said, unable to keep the petty retaliation off my tongue. According to Elyssa, spawn adhered to a strict social caste system. Since I was half-human and half-spawn, not to mention the son of an outcast, that pretty much damned me to the lowest of the low, the Castratae, whereas Kassallandra was almost as far up the chain as spawn could go.
Kassallandra ignored my response. Looked back at Nightliss whose olive skin and dark hair seemed a stark contrast to the snow-skinned woman with flaming red hair.
Kassallandra hurled what sounded like a heated question in the strange tongue at Nightliss. The girl responded, the melodic language flowing from her throat like lilting music on the air. I found myself lulled to peace by her voice and shook my head to clear the fog. The hounds seemed mesmerized, their great yellow eyes growing unfocused, tongues lolling as Nightliss spoke. The redhead threw several more sentences in the foreign tongue at her opposite, though her accent didn't have the same clarity.
Whatever they were talking about didn't seem to be going anywhere.
"Can someone translate for me?" I asked.
They both looked at me. Turned back to each other and kept on talking. I took a deep breath and, for the first time since being thrown from the truck, a pleasant but somewhat itchy tingle spread through my battered ribs. Apparently, my wounds were healing. I traced my bones to make sure they hadn't somehow reattached themselves all crooked, but aside from a little mushiness, they felt normal. As the pain subsided, the toll from the trauma settled into my body. My muscles felt like lead. I'd need to feed soon, and what my demonic nature desired couldn't be satisfied with a burger and a super-sized order of fries.
Nightliss shouted a single word at Kassallandra and shook her head. Tears pooled in her huge eyes. An almost sympathetic look crossed the redhead's face and she touched the smaller woman's bare shoulder. Said something in a comforting tone. Nightliss nodded slowly and looked at me, the tears trickling down her cheeks.
She walked over, pressed her hands to my cheek, my lips, and ran her fingers through my hair. I stood in dumbfounded confusion. Then she kissed my lips and sighed.
"I cannot," she said in a tearful whisper.
"Can't what?"
She sniffled. "Interfere. "
Kassallandra said something else in the strange language.
Nightliss scowled. "Have hunger?" she said in a whisper, concern tightening the corners of her large eyes.
I nodded. "Famished. " I almost expected her to tell me to eat more chicken.
Her lips pursed like those of a rebellious child. She pressed her
lips to mine. Warmth flooded me, running from my lips to my toes. It felt amazing, like a flush of warm hot chocolate taking away the chill of a lonely winter night. Nightliss cast an angry look at Kassallandra and blurred away into the forest.
I stood for one stunned moment as the needle on my demonic gas tank pinged full. How had she done that? I hadn't fed from her—at least not in the usual way. Kassallandra's stern gaze pulled me from my thoughts. Anger replaced confusion. "Where is she going?" I asked. "What did you say to her? What the hell is going on?"
"Where is Daevadius?" Kassallandra shot back, ignoring my questions.
"My father?"
"Not only did he dishonor me and my family, but he insulted us by bearing a child with a human!" She shuddered, her lips peeled back from her teeth in revulsion.
My fists tightened, though I didn't dare advance on this succubus diva with her pets shaking off their Nightliss-induced trance. "Well, whoopty-friggin-doo! Maybe you need to get over yourself, lady. My dad followed his heart instead of your nasty, incestuous customs. " Though, considering how hot Dad's sister, Vallaena, and Kassallandra were, I could kind of see the appeal of mating with relatives.
Did I really just think that? Gross!
Anger flared in her crimson irises as her pupils shrank to pinpricks. "His dishonor forced this course of action upon me, Castratae. I was unaware of you until the day I tracked him down. "
"The day your pets chased us all over creation?" I glared at the largest of the hounds. I remembered him now, how he and his buddies had run us through the gauntlet. If he weren’t so huge and scary, I'd beat him like a rented mule. "I don't know what you hoped to gain from attacking us. "
"I went there to talk with him. To make him see the course of redemption. But you ran like frightened children. "
"And you sicced your hounds on us?" I took a step forward and a growl like thunder rumbled in the huge hound's throat. "One of them almost killed my friend, Stacey. "
"I ordered no such violence. "
"Yeah? Well my werewolf friend killed one of your puppies. "
Why in the hell was Mr. Gray sending his toy soldiers after me? What reason could he possibly have for causing such a spectacle? I didn't have time to think about it. I had to move.
I rolled to my knees and staggered upright. Every movement sent fresh stabs to my insides, tiny daggers wielded by wicked little pain fairies, the evil kin of sleep fairies. My vision faded at the edges, dissolving into static.
"Stupid gray bastards," I muttered through clenched teeth.
Without a word, or even an indication that they'd heard or understood me, they blurred forward.
I turned to run and yelped with surprise at a massive, drooling muzzle inches from my face. A gigantic hellhound, tall as my chest, blocked my way. Two more hellhounds sprang from behind bushes on either side of me. I was boxed in. Dead meat. The golems didn't seem to care or notice. They rushed full steam ahead.
Since I couldn't fly, I stopped, dropped, and rolled. My broken ribs gouged my insides like a meat grinder. But it worked. The first golem, running too fast to adjust course on the slick forest bed of pine needles, tripped over me. Smacked face-first into Gigantor, the oversized hellhound.
The hound's jaws clamped around the golem's waist and bit it clean in half, teeth shearing through fake flesh and metal bones like tin foil. The other hounds pounced on McPulperson and pal, tearing them to tiny gray shreds. The torso of the first golem pulled itself toward me by its hands. It reached for my ankle. Gigantor sank its teeth into the arm and wrenched it off with a savage jerk of its head. Then it leaned down. Sniffed the still-wriggling golem and, almost daintily nipped off the thing's head and spat it out on the ground.
Good news: The golems were dead. Bad news: I was surrounded by hellhounds. In my current condition, I wasn't outrunning a pack of demonic hounds. So I opted for the next best thing. Sweet-talking.
"Good boy," I said, reaching a very tentative hand toward the hound's lean, almost Doberman-like head. I wondered how long, if ever, it would take my arm to grow back once this thing bit it off.
It bared sharp canines and growled a deep rumbling basso, yellow eyes burning.
I backed away. "Take me to your leader?" My voice sounded distant and thick. I wondered if my healing abilities were overwhelmed from the trauma I'd suffered.
A small black ball of fur darted between the massive hound and me. It hissed and spat, fur standing on end to make it look bigger than it was. I stared in horror as Nightliss, the little cat I'd rescued from a slobbering dog at a dumpster not so long ago rawred and advanced on the creature towering over her like a giant. How had she found me? What in the hell was going on? It was like watching a crazy, surreal dream unfold right before my eyes. Then again, it could have been a hallucination thanks to brain trauma caused by McPulperson punching me in the face.
The hound's growl turned into an uncertain whine and it backed away, shaking its head in confusion and glancing at its pack mates who still surrounded us.
"Nightliss, no!" I scooped her up and cradled her to my chest. "Are you trying to get yourself eaten?"
Nightliss glared at me with angry green eyes. She meowed and struggled against my arms, setting off more agony in my snapped ribs. I set her down, expecting her to run. Instead, her body seemed to melt and flow, expanding until a very familiar and very naked girl stared at me with those same green eyes.
Chapter 3
My mouth dropped open. "You? You're Nightliss? Who—what are you?" This was the same mystery girl who'd helped me save Stacey after hellhounds nearly killed her and showed up to help me carry Elyssa from an alley after gray men attacked us in the Grotto. This couldn't be happening. Then again, only weeks ago, I would have thought none of this possible. Hellhounds, golems, vampires, demon spawn like me—all real.
And this girl was every bit as adorable as her cat form.
Nightliss brushed long, dark hair from her face and smiled. One of the hounds growled and advanced. She turned and gave it a furious glare, more cute than scary, considering she stood maybe five-feet tall. The hound whined and retreated, circling back and forth as though uncertain what to do next.
"Hi," she said, and kissed me on the nose.
"Hi?" Though petite, Nightliss possessed womanly curves, beckoning my eyes to stare. But a storm of questions overwhelmed my teenage hormones and incubus instinct. Who was this woman? Was she a felycan like Stacey? "Who—"
"Who are you to interfere in my business?" said a cold, angry voice with a British-tinted, Russian accent. The owner of the voice, a tall woman with flowing crimson hair and matching eyes, pushed past one of the hounds and planted herself in front of the diminutive woman.
The girl responded in a strange melodic language and the redheaded woman's eyes flared in either disbelief or outright surprise.
"Kassallandra," I said, unable to stop staring at the succubus my father refused to marry. She wore a slinky red dress hugging tight against her curves. A pair of expensive-looking platform heels accented smooth, fair calves, adding a bit more oomph to her curvy rear end. This woman was smoking hot in more than one sense but looked completely out of place in the woods.
She planted both fists on her hips and raised her glare to me. "I am Anae Kassallandra to you, Castratae. You would do well to remember your place rather than sully me with your words. "
"Ooh, I guess your poop doesn't stink," I said, unable to keep the petty retaliation off my tongue. According to Elyssa, spawn adhered to a strict social caste system. Since I was half-human and half-spawn, not to mention the son of an outcast, that pretty much damned me to the lowest of the low, the Castratae, whereas Kassallandra was almost as far up the chain as spawn could go.
Kassallandra ignored my response. Looked back at Nightliss whose olive skin and dark hair seemed a stark contrast to the snow-skinned woman with flaming red hair.
Kassallandra hurled what sounded like a heated question in the strange tongue at Nightliss. The girl responded, the melodic language flowing from her throat like lilting music on the air. I found myself lulled to peace by her voice and shook my head to clear the fog. The hounds seemed mesmerized, their great yellow eyes growing unfocused, tongues lolling as Nightliss spoke. The redhead threw several more sentences in the foreign tongue at her opposite, though her accent didn't have the same clarity.
Whatever they were talking about didn't seem to be going anywhere.
"Can someone translate for me?" I asked.
They both looked at me. Turned back to each other and kept on talking. I took a deep breath and, for the first time since being thrown from the truck, a pleasant but somewhat itchy tingle spread through my battered ribs. Apparently, my wounds were healing. I traced my bones to make sure they hadn't somehow reattached themselves all crooked, but aside from a little mushiness, they felt normal. As the pain subsided, the toll from the trauma settled into my body. My muscles felt like lead. I'd need to feed soon, and what my demonic nature desired couldn't be satisfied with a burger and a super-sized order of fries.
Nightliss shouted a single word at Kassallandra and shook her head. Tears pooled in her huge eyes. An almost sympathetic look crossed the redhead's face and she touched the smaller woman's bare shoulder. Said something in a comforting tone. Nightliss nodded slowly and looked at me, the tears trickling down her cheeks.
She walked over, pressed her hands to my cheek, my lips, and ran her fingers through my hair. I stood in dumbfounded confusion. Then she kissed my lips and sighed.
"I cannot," she said in a tearful whisper.
"Can't what?"
She sniffled. "Interfere. "
Kassallandra said something else in the strange language.
Nightliss scowled. "Have hunger?" she said in a whisper, concern tightening the corners of her large eyes.
I nodded. "Famished. " I almost expected her to tell me to eat more chicken.
Her lips pursed like those of a rebellious child. She pressed her
I stood for one stunned moment as the needle on my demonic gas tank pinged full. How had she done that? I hadn't fed from her—at least not in the usual way. Kassallandra's stern gaze pulled me from my thoughts. Anger replaced confusion. "Where is she going?" I asked. "What did you say to her? What the hell is going on?"
"Where is Daevadius?" Kassallandra shot back, ignoring my questions.
"My father?"
"Not only did he dishonor me and my family, but he insulted us by bearing a child with a human!" She shuddered, her lips peeled back from her teeth in revulsion.
My fists tightened, though I didn't dare advance on this succubus diva with her pets shaking off their Nightliss-induced trance. "Well, whoopty-friggin-doo! Maybe you need to get over yourself, lady. My dad followed his heart instead of your nasty, incestuous customs. " Though, considering how hot Dad's sister, Vallaena, and Kassallandra were, I could kind of see the appeal of mating with relatives.
Did I really just think that? Gross!
Anger flared in her crimson irises as her pupils shrank to pinpricks. "His dishonor forced this course of action upon me, Castratae. I was unaware of you until the day I tracked him down. "
"The day your pets chased us all over creation?" I glared at the largest of the hounds. I remembered him now, how he and his buddies had run us through the gauntlet. If he weren’t so huge and scary, I'd beat him like a rented mule. "I don't know what you hoped to gain from attacking us. "
"I went there to talk with him. To make him see the course of redemption. But you ran like frightened children. "
"And you sicced your hounds on us?" I took a step forward and a growl like thunder rumbled in the huge hound's throat. "One of them almost killed my friend, Stacey. "
"I ordered no such violence. "
"Yeah? Well my werewolf friend killed one of your puppies. "