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Dearest Mother of Mine (Overworld Chronicles)

John Corwin




  Dearest Mother of Mine

  Book Six of the Overworld Chronicles

  John Corwin

  Copyright © 2013 by John Corwin.

  Digital eBook Edition.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  LICENSE NOTES

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people unless expressly permitted by the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, Smashwords.com, or other digital ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  I AIN'T NO MAMA'S BOY

  When Justin finds out Daelissa plans to use his mother, Alysea, to reopen the gateway between the mortal and Seraphim realms, he decides it's high time to mount a rescue operation. But she's being held by Jeremiah Conroy, the most dangerous and secretive Arcane in the Overworld.

  Of course, Justin's got even more problems when he accidentally kills the brother of Maulin Kassus. Who happens to be the leader of the Black Robe Brotherhood, deadly expert battle mages. And Kassus wants revenge.

  If Justin can't locate the Conroys and avoid the Arcane mafia, not only will he never see his mother again, but Daelissa will be one step closer to world domination.

  To my wonderful support group:

  Alana Rock, Kayla Moore, Patrick Yates, Karen Stansbury, Dana Prestridge, Karla Ileana, Keren Hall, Nicole Passante, Anino, and Pat Owens

  My amazing editors:

  Annetta Ribken and Jennifer Wingard

  Thanks so much for all your help and input!

  Chapter 1

  The apocalypse was nigh.

  Even so, I felt sickeningly optimistic as I walked to the mailbox and couldn't help but grin.

  All was right in my universe—impending Seraphim invasion aside. I'd passed my fall semester classes. Nightliss was slowly recovering from the curse Daelissa tried to kill her with. My sister, Ivy, had cured me of the vampling virus. Life was wonderful. Now all I had to do was mail the invitations to my Christmas party and hope the world didn't end first.

  Jeremiah Conroy had the Cyrinthian Rune. At any moment, he could use it to repair the Grand Nexus allowing Daelissa and her fellow angels to storm through it and enslave every last one of us in the mortal realm.

  I, for one, wasn't about to let the apocalypse ruin the holidays.

  Despite the hefty stack of invitations, I couldn't stop thinking about three missing names—Ivy, Mom, and Dad. Ivy still lived with the Conroys. Daelissa had locked Mom away in an astral prison to prevent her from interfering in the mad angel's plans for world domination. And Dad? He'd abandoned us to marry Kassallandra, a princess of House Assad, in the hopes of reuniting the Daemos for the war that would erupt the moment Daelissa repaired the Grand Nexus and led through a Seraphim army. I didn't buy his excuses for a minute.

  I would bring Mom and Ivy home one way or the other. In fact, I planned to deliver their Christmas party invitations in person when I rescued them.

  A flicker of movement drew my eye to the thicket of woods surrounding the mansion and separating it from the other houses on Greek Row. Most students had gone home for the holidays, so I doubted a stray frat boy had wandered over from a neighboring house. Most people kept far away from this place anyway thanks to its haunted reputation.

  The crackle of dry leaves and limbs came from all sides at once. I looked into the woods and saw flashes of gray passing between the skeletal trees. Before I could turn to run back to the house, something slammed into my back. Invitations scattered to the winds, fluttering everywhere as they burst from my grasp. My face slammed into the dirt. Despite the strength in the arms pinning mine to my sides, I roared, and broke free.

  Another flash of gray came from my left. I dodged left, grabbed the man by his arm, and flung him into a tree so hard, I heard it crack. The man's head broke open, and a ball of sparkling energy floated out, miniature bolts of lightning erupting from it for a moment before it imploded with a little pop and vanished.

  More men appeared from all sides. They wore gray business suits. Their skin looked pallid and gray. They each wore silvery hair slicked straight back. Oh, and they looked identical. In fact, they looked exactly like my friend, Cinder. They weren't the result of a crazy experiment with infertility drugs. No, I'd faced these things before. Technically, they weren't even alive. I called them gray men. Most people in the know referred to them as golems.

  And they encircled me.

  Each gray man was a killing machine. It had been a while since I'd seen them, but I should've known Mr. Gray would eventually come back for me. The worst part—I didn't even know why he wanted me dead.

  "Can't we talk about this?" I asked.

  The golems didn't so much as blink, but closed in from all sides, some of them pulling guns from inside their jackets. I'd faced a gaggle of these dudes before, but this time Mr. Gray had gone all out. I counted nearly a dozen. "This isn't exactly what I was hoping to get for the twelve days of Christmas," I said. I juked right, reversed course, and plowed through two golems blocking the path back to the mansion. Something whistled past my head and buried itself in the ground. Those weren't guns, I realized, but Lancers which fired darts used to incapacitate supernaturals. "Show some holiday spirit, you jackasses!"

  A gray man grabbed my shirt as I passed. I ducked, raised my arms, and let the shirt slide off my torso, freeing me. As I blurred toward the mansion, another group of golems appeared from the sides of the building and converged on my spot. I'd never make it to the door in time, I realized. Since I couldn't run left or right, I made straight for the manor, planning to dive through a window, and make a run for the basement. The tunnels down there connected with the school. If I was fast enough, I could make it to safety.

  Having unwillingly played football in high school, I knew my path would connect with at least two golems before I reached my destination. I blinked my eyes to activate my incubus sight, and reached for the magical energy, or aether, floating in the air around me, and pulsing like blood through the ground beneath me.

  Swirling gray mist, streaking white comets, and pulsating black holes of ultraviolet energy appeared. I extended my senses, and drew in a breath—my way of absorbing aether. Ever since Ivy had healed me, something inside me had changed. Before, I couldn't sense how much aether I'd drawn inside me. When I drew it in now, I felt it coursing through my veins and filling my internal reservoir to the stretching point.

  "I'm gonna use your heads for tree ornaments," I growled at the gray men rushing to block my path.

  I brandished the practice wand Shelton had given me, focused my will, and a fireball coalesced around the end. I veered left so I'd intersect one of the golems before the other. "Hadouken!" I shouted, and flicked the wand. An orb of flame the size of my head streaked toward the gray man in my path. The golem dodged, but wasn't fast enough. The fireball blasted into him and hurled him in a lopsided spin to the side, charring his suit to ash.

  The golem on my right altered trajectory. I focused on his legs. With another effort of will, I cried, "
Shoryuken!" Web-like ropes of aetherial energy jetted from my hands like a bolo and wrapped around the golem's legs. The target crashed to earth in a heap. Rather than give up, it began crawling forward with its hands, eyes locked on me like some kind of terminator robot from the future.

  The window lay ten feet ahead of me. I dove.

  I hit the window hard enough to break through bricks. But it didn't break. It bent inward, stretching like rubber, and I suddenly remembered Shelton telling me how the windows on this place were enchanted to preserve them for centuries. I also suddenly realized why none of the windows in the place had been broken despite it sitting derelict for several years before my gang and I assumed control.

  The rubbery glass pressed tight against my face. I saw the inside of the house. I saw a group of golems emerge from the kitchen in the back of the first floor. I realized they must have come in through the back door an instant before my forward momentum ran out. The enchanted glass made like a slingshot and hurled me backward at terrifying speed. I flew over the front yard, down the driveway, and finally met a tree.

  Twisting to the side, I took the brunt of the blow on my side. The air exploded from my lungs, and I dropped to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath. My vision flickered back to normal. Fighting the oxygen deprivation, I scrambled to my feet, desperate to get my bearings. But the blow to my body left me off balance. I saw the mansion to one side through a blurry haze. Using it as a reference point of extreme danger, I ran the opposite way.

  The driveway intersected the road just ahead. A cramp stabbed into my side. I sucked desperately for air, and finally managed to gulp a breath. I looked behind me. An army of gray men raced down the driveway toward me. Silver darts whistled past. I reached for my wand, and realized I'd dropped it somewhere between the window and the tree.

  "Go bother Santa Claus!" I wheezed.

  My absent wand left me only one alternative—my arcphone. I grabbed it and took a right where the road passed through Greek Row and looped back down toward the dormitories. As I ran, I flicked through defensive spells Shelton had given me in case of an emergency. They were ready made, kind of like scrolls, and all I had to do was activate them. I twisted my torso to look behind me as I ran, aimed my hand at the ground, and tapped the "run" command.

  A glowing circular pattern flashed onto the ground and vanished. I activated the spell several more times before my phone flashed a battery warning. Even though it ran on magical energy, it had to recharge like every other gadget. I ran the spell once more, and Nookli—the name of my phone—desperately said, "Justin, please feed me," and promptly turned off.

  A gray man hit the first trap.

  Blue light burst from the ground, instantly gluing the golem in place like a fly trap. The other golems flowed around their trapped comrade without so much as a second glance. The ensnare spells flickered like flash bulbs as my pursuers triggered more traps. The traps snagged more and more golems, slowing them, and giving me a greater lead over my pursuers.

  I saw the curve in the end of the road. Saw the last two houses on Greek Row. I've got this. The gray men were fast, but I was faster. Even if they dared follow me onto campus, I could run straight to security and let them deal with the golem menace.

  Two platoons of gray men rushed out from behind the houses on either side of the road. They numbered far more than a dozen. I looked behind me and saw my pursuers fanned out across the road to prevent me from cutting left or right.

  "What the hell do you want?" I said, my eyes desperately scanning the area for any method of escape. I saw no way out. It left me no choice but to fight dirty.

  Reaching inside myself like my Aunt Vallaena had taught me, I opened the cage where the demon side of me stalked, always trying to break loose. Eager to consume, destroy, and basically do whatever the hell it wanted if I didn't control it. It flowed into me. I felt muscles coiling along my arms, my legs, and my back like snakes. Felt my skin press tight against my clothing as my body grew larger and taller. Felt a tail spring from my backside.

  Sunlight glinted on silver in the air before me. I heard a whistling noise followed shortly by the sting of multiple projectiles piercing my skin. I looked down at tiny silver darts sprouting from my chest. One hit me in the nose with a painful doing. I heard more of them glance off the horns growing from my forehead.

  I thought my demon form would protect me. Unfortunately, nothing could protect me from so many darts. I tried to walk. Tried to move forward. Intense pain coupled with lethargy crippled my muscles. All I could do was watch helplessly as the ground closed in on my face.

  "Mr. Slade, I do hope you'll forgive this somewhat rude invitation."

  I jerked awake. I peered through bleary eyes to find the source of the polite voice. My head felt as heavy as a bowling ball, mouth hanging open. I tried to lick my lips with a sandpaper tongue. Despite feeling the obvious presence of drool at the corners of my mouth, I was also so thirsty my mouth felt like a desert. "Wa-wa," I said, unable to properly form the word.

  "Of course, Mr. Slade," said the voice of someone with an obvious nerd pedigree.

  I felt a straw pressed into my mouth, and managed to suck sweet delicious water down my parched throat. I kept drinking until I thought I'd barf.

  "Please don't overdo it, Mr. Slade," said the nasal voice.

  I blinked a few times as my eyes focused on someone standing in front of me. A face resolved from the blob, and I tried to jump back but failed since I was sitting in a chair apparently attached to the floor.

  A gray man looked back at me, smiling. The smile sent the feeling of spiders crawling up my spine, even though it looked amazingly genuine.

  "Who are you?" I asked, and tried to stand, even though I fully expected restraints of some kind to hold me down. Much to my surprise, I rose to my feet, albeit with a bit of wobble in my knees.

  "I am Lornicus," the golem said. "I apologize for the shoddy way you were treated, but it was imperative I bring you here to talk to my master." He clapped his hands, and the dim light in the room brightened perceptibly.

  I felt another shock of confusion as I saw him clearly for the first time. Though he looked exactly like a gray man, his skin boasted a natural peach tone.

  Lornicus seemed to sense my confusion, and held out a hand. "My skin is also warm, Mr. Slade, if you wish to see for yourself."

  I backed away. "Are you real?"

  His lips pursed in thought. "I am real in the sense that I am not illusion. However, the question you are asking is, 'Am I alive?'" He offered a slight smile. "I am not alive in the way you are, because I am a golem." Lornicus folded his hands behind his back. "However, I know you did not mean to engage in philosophy, and it is rather imperative you speak with my master while he's still here. Given that, would you please accompany me?" He motioned toward the door.

  I could have played tough guy and refused or demanded more answers, but curiosity—as usual—got the best of me. I shrugged, and said, "After you."

  We walked through a long hallway with white tile flooring and equally bland walls and ceiling. The light fixtures looked like ordinary fluorescents, and I noticed electrical outlets with a North American design interspersed along the wall. Evidently, I wasn't in Queens Gate anymore. We passed several closed doors and reached an elevator.

  Lornicus pressed the call button. A moment later, it dinged, and the doors opened. The easy-listening version of a song I recognized drifted out. We stepped inside, and the golem pressed the topmost button.

  "You're not like the other gray dudes," I said as the doors slid shut.

  He shook his head. "No. I am either a success story, or a failure, depending upon the way one might look at it. My creator didn't intend me to appear or act as I do, though I take comfort in the fact he didn't destroy me upon realizing my defect."

  I almost told him about Cinder, formerly a gray man who now possessed sentience, though he was completely ignorant of how to act like a real person, unlike Lornicus. The idea se
emed like a bad one, though. Despite his friendliness, this golem served someone who'd tried to kill me on numerous occasions. On the bright side, I could ask all the burning questions I wanted once I came face-to-face with this special someone. Not that I anticipated solid answers.

  "He is not expecting you," Lornicus said, clearing his throat nervously. "Please allow me to speak with him first in case he decides to kill you."

  "Wait a minute," I said, fear gripping my bowels. "Why—what—"

  I didn't have a chance to finish the question before the elevator opened into a spacious office overlooking a skyline crowded with skyscrapers. A man sat at a desk, fingers steepled, steely gray eyes staring pensively at the elevator.

  He looked exactly like Lornicus and the gray men. More correctly, they looked exactly like him. His lips compressed into a thin line, and anger clouded his face. This man was Seraphim—an angel. He could kill me where I stood.

  This man was Mr. Gray.

  Chapter 2

  Mr. Gray's eyes switched to Lornicus. "I told you no," he said, his baritone voice deadly quiet. "I see my commands no longer hold sway over you, servant."

  Lornicus bowed deep. "They do, master. But I am here to serve your greater good. Meeting the Cataclyst, in my estimation, serves you far better than ignoring or killing him."

  "Explain," the angel said.

  "Foreseeance four, three, one, one has come to pass, sir. The decision has been made. This makes the future uncertain, and I believe Mr. Slade is your best hope for determining what is to come." The golem bowed again. "I am only doing what you created me for, sir."

  Mr. Gray regarded Lornicus silently for a moment before switching his unnerving gaze to me. He motioned toward a leather chair in front of his desk. "Please have a seat, Mr. Slade." He looked back at the golem. "Lornicus, leave us. I will decide what to do with you later."