Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (story books to read TXT) 📗

“Have you got a ‘Chaos’ quota to fill there?” I joked. How many times did he want to say that word?

He gave me a hard stare. “Do you want to know where the djinn come from or not?”

“I do. Sorry. Go on.” I pretended to zip my lips.

“The djinn, among other Purge monsters, came from my Chaos matrix.”

Yes, Mr. Anderson… I fought the urge to say it. He wouldn’t get the reference, and he’d seal my mouth shut if he thought I was being clever.

“The magicals call it a Purge Plague,” he continued. “In reality, I had fiddled with Chaos and pushed it through many magicals at once; hundreds expelled djinn at the same time, though this was a very long time ago. And, as most experiments do, it backfired somewhat. They are bound to me, as they take their magical abilities from me, but I can’t break their magic. A punishment from Chaos, for treating it lightly.”

It served him right, but it was about to be a gigantic pain in my ass. His inability to break the curse meant the monkey had to do it, instead of the organ grinder. And here I was, with my opposable thumbs and my tail between my legs.

“You want me to break this curse? I’m not sure I have the expertise for that,” I said, a token protest.

“I can always splatter Ryann across the city if you don’t feel like it.” His tone sizzled with menace. “Blood sprays far if you strike carefully.”

I sank into my chair. Yet again, Erebus had me wedged between a rock and a hard place. I had to do this. He wouldn’t have brought me here if I could defy him. Frankly, it had already gotten tedious having to go through the same thoughts over and over.

“No need to get feisty. You know I’ll do it,” I replied sourly.

“It never hurts to add a bit of encouragement.” Erebus sipped his champagne, satisfied. I wished him a healthy dose of botulism to go with it.

I held back my awaking gremlins. “Where am I going to find this Calvert guy? Let me guess, you won’t tell me?”

“Of course I’m going to tell you. How else would you find him?” Erebus smirked. “His last known location is an off-grid interdimensional pocket, much like that one Kenzie’s uncle made for himself—in the carcass of a crashed airplane in Churchill, Manitoba. I do not know if he is still there, as he moves often, but it gives your search a starting place.”

“Manitoba? I’m going to Canada?” I rolled my eyes so hard my eyeballs almost popped out.

“Problem, Finch?”

I flashed a fake smile. “Not at all, just let me grab my thermals and a bottle of polar bear deterrent.”

“I suggest you do. I hear they’re hungry, thanks to the mess you humans made of this planet.”

“Hey, you’re human now, remember? Our mess is your mess.” I could already picture the icy tundra, and my extremities panicking that they might not all make it.

He smiled. “I am not human, Finch. You would do well to remember that.”

How could I forget?

“Before I head out, there’s one thing I need to ask.” I recalled my promise to Santana. And now that I knew a touch more about djinn, this meeting had transformed into the perfect opportunity.

“You want to know where to acquire polar bear repellent?” Erebus chuckled.

I shook my head. “I want to know about the djinn.”

“I told you about them.”

“Not that. I want to know if you’re responsible for what’s happening to them. They’re going crazy, and nobody knows why. Not even them.”

Erebus’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Oh… that. It is simple, really. Their access to Darkness is restricted because my form is compressed inside this body, meaning my power must be channeled differently. I suppose it’s like cutting off their air supply, very slowly.”

Annoyance splintered through me. “You made them, Erebus. Don’t you feel responsible? They’re suffering!”

“And they will continue to, until I resume my Child form.”

“So, you are planning to return to your original form?” That didn’t surprise me. In his body, he had limits. Erebus didn’t like limits.

He swirled his drink again. “Naturally, at some point. I cannot say when that will be. I am hoping to find a happy medium of flitting between forms, but I am in no rush to figure out the details of that just yet.”

“And you’ll just let the djinn suffer until then?” The gall of him made me sick.

“In simple terms that you will understand… yes. I imagine my other creations in Tartarus are struggling, too.” He shrugged. “Oh, well.”

“‘Oh, well’? That’s all you have to say?”

He tilted his head. “What would you like me to say? They are expendable. I do not trouble myself over insignificant beings that would not exist had I not experimented with Chaos in the first place. They ought to be grateful for the time they’ve had.”

“Unbelievable,” I said, not attempting to hide my disgust.

He smiled coldly. “Is it?”

When did Erebus plan on getting back into his smoky skin again, exactly? His desire to stay like this had everything to do with Atlantis. That didn’t take a genius to figure out.

My mind flitted to Lux, and I wished she hadn’t gotten so angry. She might’ve been able to tell me more about Atlantis. It had taken her all of two seconds to realize Erebus’s goal, which meant she probably knew more about it than I did.

“Something the matter, Finch?” Erebus’s eyes bored into my soul. I must’ve been quieter for longer than I’d thought.

“Nothing aside from you not giving a crap about the creatures you created,” I answered, a beat too quickly.

His glare intensified. “You aren’t hiding anything, are you?”

“Of course not.” I squirmed in my chair and avoided his gaze. Could he see Lux written all over my face?

I made the mistake of taking his silence as a good sign and dared to glance at him. An eerie smile stretched across his mouth. A blast imploded in my ribcage.

I lurched