Magic - Chapter 9
When I was eighteen, I left home to make a name for myself.
This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.
Ollie wasn't looking for trouble, but after she saved the Antichrist from being slaughtered, it came for her.
Ollie lived by one rule. Never get involved with anyone for any reason; humans, demons, fae folk, it didn't matter. They were all trouble. Keeping her distance was how she survived in the criminal underworld for so long.
Keep your head down and don't piss anyone off. That was her motto, especially since her clients all had access to powerful dark magic.
She thought she had a flawless system for keeping her nose clean, so how did she wind up in a stolen car, with a demon spawn in her back seat, driving away from her ex-lover and a gang of demons ready to skin her alive?
That's a good question.
And why did she agree to help save the demon's life so she didn't get sacrificed to open the gates of Hell?
An even better question.
She had one rule. One stupid rule. And tonight...it goes right down the toilet.
Now, the only way for Ollie to get her life back is to save the girl, prevent the Apocalypse, and track down the people who betrayed her.
They will pay. Oh yes, they will all pay.
When I was eighteen, I left home to make a name for myself. Mom didn’t much care as I was well-built to survive and thrive in a world of humans, even though she didn’t much like the way that I did it. That was important to her—not just that I did something, but that I did it in the appropriate way. I thought the right way could suck an egg. After all, she did everything right and still ended up with me, the bane of her existence.
I hadn’t been on the street for long before I got in a fight with a group of teen toughs and beat their asses something fierce. That’s when he found me and brought me to the Palomino. He wasn’t relevant to the story except as a catalyst for my new life. I didn’t even remember his name, but I owed him everything. He brought me to the hub of monster underworld activity in Los Angeles and introduced me around to the right people at the right time. Somebody noticed when I knocked out his teeth for trying to slip his hand up my shirt, and they offered me a job. That job led to another, which led to another, which led to a half dozen more, and soon I was making more money as a street urchin than I would have if I got proper work.
Naturally, Mom didn’t approve and said that it must be the demon in me who was comfortable making money the slimy way. She really hated demons, which was probably why she hated me so much. Point was, I knew the Palomino and its reputation quite well.
Nobody in front of the Palomino batted an eye at the fact that Anjelica and I just emerged from a portal, which was why I loved it there.
“I gotta say,” Anjelica said when she stepped out of the portal, “that is so cool. You can just do that all the time?”
“I can,” I said with a stiff nod. “I prefer to drive, though.”
“Why?” she asked. “I would never ever drive if I could just portal everywhere.”
The Palomino was a safe place, and there were frighteningly few of those. Even fewer that existed out in the open. Billy and Tommy paid good money to keep it that way. It wasn’t that there weren’t normals that came into the bar, they just tended not to remember what they saw when they left the parking lot, except that they had a good time.
“You get bored of it sooner or later, like with all magic. I like having the time to think, and Lily gave me that.”
“Lily…was your car?”
“Is my car. She’s not dead yet. I just don’t know where she is right now.” I sighed solemnly. “She was the best car I ever had. Those monsters better not have ruined her.”
There weren’t a lot of places for a country music fan to have a good time in Los Angeles, and the Palomino was the best one for fifty miles in any direction. People came from all around to play the stage, and it was known that if a big act was playing, the monsters laid low, but most other nights, it was a free-for-all.
“Hey,” Anjelica said as we walked up to the entrance. “You aren’t really a demon, are you?”
The bouncer at the front had gills like a fish, and he didn’t raise an eyebrow when he overheard Anjelica’s question. I paid him with part of the wad I got earlier, and he stamped our hands.
The band was a country music act called the Whosiers, which I assumed meant they were from Indiana, probably traveling across the country building a name for themselves. Either that or the poor shmucks uprooted themselves and moved to Los Angeles, city of dreams—a thousand dreams dashed every day. Of course, it could have also been some stupid writer who liked puns and decided to try his luck in a band in his copious spare time from not having a job.
“What’ll it be?” a squid monster said from behind the bar.
“Two whiskey cokes,” I said, holding up two fingers.
“No way that girl is 21,” he said, walking over with an eye on Anjelica.
“They’re both for me,” I replied. “What do you want, Anjelica?”
Some girls have resting bitch faces. She had a resting sweet smile face. “Can I have a Shirley Temple?”
“Sure, kid,” the squid monster replied with a curt, abrupt smile.
I rolled my eyes. “You gotta be the least demonic demon I’ve ever met.”
“Well, I only found out I was a demon this morning. Before then, I was just a kid and a pretty happy one at that.”
“That’s gotta be rough.”
She shrugged. “It was rougher being kidnapped, and it will be rougher if I die by sunrise, but yeah, it’s not the best night of my life. I did meet you, though, and that’s been rather pleasant, except when it hasn’t been.” She took a cherry from the bowl behind the bar and sucked on it. “What about you? When did you find out you were a demon?”
“I’ve always known,” I said. “My mom wouldn’t let me forget it.”
The bartender placed the Shirley Temple down in front of Anjelica.
“Thank you!” She pointed to the cherries behind the bar. “Hey, are those free? I’m starving.”
The squid monster rightly chuckled that time and slid them toward her. “Eat away.”
“Thanks, mister,” she said with her mouth full of cherries, then turned back to me. “What’s with you two anyway? Why does your mom hate you?”
I grabbed one of the two drinks the bartender put in front of me. “My family situation is complicated, kid.”
“And mine isn’t?” She swallowed her mouthful of cherries. “I’m the antichrist, for crying out loud. No, correction. I’m AN antichrist.” She looked down at her lap. “I know you hate questions, but I’m just trying to figure this out. Can you please help me?”
“I’m already helping you.”
“More. Can you please help me more?”
“All right, kid.” I tilted my head back and finished my first drink. “But I’m going to need more than this.” I picked up the second drink. “Luckily, I have another one.” I sighed loudly. “The truth is I’m not quite a demon. Not really.”
“What does that mean? You either are a demon, or you aren’t, right?”
I shook my head. “I’m a Nephilim. Half angel, half demon. The ultimate bastard child of the universe. Heaven doesn’t want me. Hell won’t keep me. Cursed to roam the Earth forever.”
“That’s terrible. Which parent was the angel?”
“My mom.”
“I can see that.” Anjelica nodded. “She looks like the type. She has a real ethereal way about her.”
“She knows it, too.” I took another sip of my drink. “When God found out what she’d done, he flipped out and kicked her out of Heaven.”
“Why would he do that?” Anjelica asked. “I thought God was cool.”
“He is decidedly not cool.” I took a longer drink this time. “Angels are supposed to be pure. Not only did my mom have sex, she had sex with a demon. It’s bad enough when a male demon has sex with a succubus or inferi and creates a half-breed. At least they can hide their shame with denial. My mom, though, she brought her shame with her everywhere for nine months. God couldn’t abide that. So, he booted her.” I finished my second drink. “That she didn’t abort me was a minor miracle. Another thing she will never let me forget.”
Anjelica placed her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I replied. “It was a long time ag—”
“Well, well, well…” I spun around to see Blezor holding a shotgun a foot from my tits. “Fancy seeing you here. Where’s my dagger, honey bear?”
Couldn’t I catch a single break?
This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.