Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #5)

Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #5) Page 27

"You went to a nom school?" she asked, her blue eyes bright with curiosity.

"Yeah." I sighed, thinking back to those simple days. "I was a chubby overweight nerd. I didn't know anything about Mom or Dad. I thought I was just a normal human."

"Really?" she asked, ignoring a stream of melted gelato as it ran across her fingers. "What was it like being normal?"

I shrugged. "Pretty normal, I guess."

We shared a laugh.

I told her about the live-action role-playing game, Kings and Castles. I told her about my crush on Katie Johnson, how I'd met Elyssa and Stacey.

"You fell in love?" she asked, blue eyes brimming with curiosity. "Does it feel wonderful?"

"It can be wonderful and scary all at the same time," I said, unsure how in-depth I really wanted to go about it.

"It must be nice having another person who's gooey for you," she said and let out a little sigh before resuming the attack on her gelato.

I continued my story, telling her about the bullying from football players and how I'd finally discovered what I was.

"Football?" she asked. "That's a game?"

"Yeah, you carry a ball shaped like this"—I formed the oval shape with my fingers and thumbs—"and you have to get it into the other team's end zone."

"Weird," she said, eyebrows rising in unison. "People make games out of anything."

I chuckled. "Yeah."

"It makes me really mad that the football players beat you up," she said, her eyes soft with sympathy. "I hate how big people think they can walk all over the little ones."

Ivy looked little, but with her powers, she was anything but. "Yeah, it was rough," I said. "But even having super powers didn't solve everything."

She quirked her lips into cute expression of agreement. "At my gifted school, the strong kids would bully the others. This one guy, Billy Vanderbilt, would make the little kids do everything he said. If they didn't, he'd do terrible things, like make them eat toads, or levitate them upside down, or even make their clothes vanish."

My jaw tightened at the mention of his name. "I've seen him around. He's definitely a mean guy."

Ivy nodded. "He and his group of bullies used to pick on us all the time. One day I got so mad, I cursed them."

I got the impression she wasn't talking about swear words. "What did you do?"

"I made them hungry for bugs. Every time they saw one, they'd get so hungry they had to eat it."

I gagged. "Like spiders and cockroaches?"

An impish grin spread across her face. "Yeah. I even spawned a nest of locusts in their dorm room." She giggled. "They got so sick."

I couldn't help but laugh myself despite how insanely gross it sounded. "Did they know you did it?"

Her expression sobered. "Yeah. I got in huge trouble with Bigdaddy and Bigmomma. Daelissa thought it was funny, but she told me not to do it again."

"Yeah, when I finally beat up Nathan, I only got myself in more trouble." I told her how I'd been blackmailed into playing football and how horribly that had ended up, with the slaughter of all those people. Technically, it hadn't been my fault—it had been Brad Nichols, driven insane by the vampling curse, who'd killed those people.

Ivy took it all in with wide eyes. "Even though we have magic, the noms sound a lot like us," she said and polished off the last bit of her cone.

"We're all human," I agreed.

Ivy giggled. "Not really."

I snorted. "Yeah, sorry. I'm still new to this whole angel and demon thing."

My sister reached a hand across to mine and touched it. "I like you, Justin."

Moisture gathered behind my eyes at this simple statement. I put my other hand over hers. "I like you, Ivy. I like having a little sister."

A tear gathered in the corner of her eye and trickled down. "Maybe we can have a talk like you said, and maybe you'll agree with us."

"I want to have our family back together," I said. "Me, you, Mom, Dad—"

Her hand abruptly jerked from mine. "No, not him."

"Not Dad?"

She shook her head, wiped the tear away. "He's a demon, Justin. You can't make him good."

"But—" the next words died on my lips. If I tried to explain that we were both half and half, it might further alienate her. I didn't know what to say. It was hard enough getting her to accept me. Besides, Dad had more or less abandoned Mom to marry Kassallandra.

Her forehead wrinkled. "Besides, I don't think he's our real dad. He can't be." Her statement sounded like pure denial. Ivy checked the time on her arcphone. "I need to go. Bigdaddy will already be mad at me for sneaking off."

I nodded. "Let's figure out a time and place to have our talks," I said. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you. Can we do it again soon?"

The corners of her mouth curved up. "I'd like that."

"Maybe we could go to a zoo one day."

Her eyes brightened. "Oh, I'd love that so much." Her face fell. "But, I can't. Not until we figure things out." She offered an apologetic grin. "Okay?"

I nodded. "Fair enough." I walked her back to the library.

"I should go on by myself," she said when we reached the entrance. "Just in case, you know."

"I understand," I said.

She suddenly threw herself against me, squeezing me in a tight hug. I returned the hug and felt a surge of joy. There might be hope for her yet.

Ivy let go, gave me a shy smile, and wandered away into the library, vanishing around a corner. I turned a moment later and nearly rammed into a man right behind me.

"Excuse me," I said and tried to walk around him.

He blocked my way, a leer on his face. "Well, well, if it ain't my old buddy, Justin," he said in a cockney accent.

It was Bigglesworth.

Chapter 20

I shuddered, backed away from the creature that had tried to kill me hours before. Bigglesworth sported a sky blue polyester suit and wide-collared shirt imprinted with the photo-realistic image of a forest on it. I choked back my initial desire to snarl and cuss him out, instead, somehow finding the will to keep my mouth shut.

"Cat got your tongue, mate?" He grinned.

"You smell slightly burnt," I said, making a show of sniffing. "Flark."

A shocked look flicked across his face. "I'd like to know how you found out what I am," he said.

I tapped my temple. "I have my resources." Changing subjects, I said, "What did you want with that man you were torturing?"

"A matter for my mistress. Nothing you need concern yourself with." He stepped closer.

I took an involuntary step back as my body flinched at the memory of how painful his touch had been. "Why are you helping Daelissa?"

He tilted his head slightly. "If you knew anything about Flarks, perhaps you'd know the answer to that question."

"You could just tell me."

He chuckled. "Why ruin the fun, mate?" He stepped closer.

I didn't back away this time.

Bigglesworth lowered his voice. "And it's gonna be so much fun killing a ruddy wanker like you."

"Justin, it is nice to see you."

Bigglesworth and I looked toward the source of the voice.

Cinder attempted a grin, instead managing a leer that teetered somewhere between maniacal and psychotic. "I am researching."

"What the bloody—" Bigglesworth tilted his head to the side. "You've gotta be kidding me." His eyes drifted to me, the orbs shifting to an unsettling shiny black color. "Methuselah. Makes sense now."

I almost asked him who the heck he was talking about, when Cinder went stock still, his eyes locked onto Bigglesworth. "Are you in danger, Justin?"

"That remains to be seen," I replied.

His gaze flicked to me. "Shall I battle the creature for you?"

I shook my head. "We were just having a nice talk." I turned to Bigglesworth. "So, Methuselah surprised you, didn't he?"

The shifter's black eyes resumed normal coloring. "He only cares about balance. Don't think you've won anything, mate." Bigglesworth tipped his bowler. "Until we meet again."

Cinder stared after the Flark for a moment and turned to me. "I am sorry, Justin. If I had known this was the shifter you'd told us about, I would not have—" He broke off, going absolutely still for a moment. "—opened my wide mouth."

"Big mouth," I said.

"Ah. I do not understand the exact difference but—"

"Do you recognize the name Methuselah?"

"It seems to have triggered a memory in me." He tilted his head. "I believe some entities referred to my creator as Methuselah."

"In other words, Mr. Gray," I said.

"And Bigglesworth believes my creator is interfering by sending me when, in fact, I am here for completely different reasons." He blinked. "How interesting. Perhaps—"

I waved off his next words. "Look, let's worry about this later. Bigger issues have come up, and we need to brainstorm."

Cinder stared at me with a blank unblinking expression.

I sighed. "It's an idiom that means we need to think hard about how to solve a problem. So let's get out of here before Bigglesworth has a chance to set up an ambush outside."

He raised a hand and snapped his fingers in a robotic motion. "Twenty-three skidoo."

I blinked at him a couple of times before deciding I didn't want to know what the heck a skidoo was. "Um, come on."

We left the library the same way I'd entered while Cinder talked my ear off about his study of golems and the latest innovative designs.

"Nothing current comes close to my own design," he said as a simple statement of fact.