Falter

  Falter

  Jason and Azazel: Ambrosia

  Book Eight

  by V. J. Chambers

  Azazel relishes the chance to be on the offensive for once. Chased all her life, fighting one enemy or another who intended to kill her, it’s nice to be pursuing the bad guys instead of running from them.

  Of course, Jason doesn’t agree that they’re bad guys. He doesn’t think they have the right to make moral judgments like that. Not after all the horrible things they’ve done. He chooses to stay home and get to know his son, Chance.

  Jason spends his days playing with Chance and going to parent-teacher conferences. Azazel spends hers hunting down and killing people who sell Nephilim blood. Jason tries to pretend he doesn’t long for a life of action, but deep down, he misses violence. He craves it.

  The strain of domestic life is getting to Jason.

  It won’t be long until he snaps.

  FALTER

  © copyright 2013 by V. J. Chambers

  http://vjchambers.com

  Punk Rawk Books

  Smashwords Edition

  Please do not copy or post this book in its entirety or in parts anywhere. You may, however, share the entire book with a friend by forwarding the entire file to them. (And I won’t get mad.)

  Falter

  Jason and Azazel: Ambrosia

  Book Eight

  by V. J. Chambers

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~azazel~

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the car, which I’d parked across both lanes of the road. No other cars were getting through. It was a nice, spring day, nearly seventy degrees outside here in New Jersey. Not bad for early April. I gazed up at the blue sky, soaking in the sunshine.

  A voice in my ear. “Azazel, you’re getting company in ten seconds.” Boone, back at headquarters, talking to me on my earpiece. He was monitoring the ambulance that I’d set up this roadblock to stop. He could give me a heads-up about its movement.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Grace, my partner for this operation. She leaned up against the car next to me, folding her arms over her chest.

  “Um, Grace?” I said. “Maybe you should stay back.”

  Boone’s voice in both of our ears. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. What if the ambulance doesn’t stop, and they smash right into you?”

  “I’m invincible, assface,” Grace snapped. “I’ll be fine.” Grace, Boone, and everyone else besides me on our team were all Nephilim, or demigods, or something. Different mythologies called them different things. The point was that they didn’t age, they healed quickly when they were wounded, and ingesting their blood made regular mortals react the same way. If Grace got hit by an ambulance, she’d heal up right away. I would too, even though I wasn’t a Nephilim. I drank blood, mostly from my boyfriend Jason, because if I didn’t I would die considering my neck had been snapped six months ago. I was technically dead, but if I drank Jason’s blood, it healed me and kept me alive. My life was weird, and it just kept getting weirder. I had learned not to question it too much. It only made me confused and frustrated.

  “That’s not why I think you should hang back,” I said. “It’s only that you’re fourteen, and they aren’t going to believe you’re a police officer.”

  “I’m fifteen.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, you aren’t looking all that old these days either.”

  I grimaced. The side effect of drinking a lot of blood was that I aged backwards. It kept me alive because it aged me back to before I’d been killed, but if I kept drinking it, it kept aging me back. Jason and I had, um, gotten a little too into blood sharing. It turned him on, and I was practically addicted to it. So, I looked a little younger than I should.

  My age was closer to normal than it had been. I hadn’t had any of Jason’s blood in two weeks, and I was already started to age back to my proper age. Of course, that was only because Jason and I hadn’t had sex in two weeks, because everything was sort of awkward between us. But I didn’t have time to think about that. The ambulance was coming.

  I shrugged. “Fine. Stand here, then.”

  She grinned. “Awesome.”

  We could hear the sound of an approaching motor. I watched the road ahead of us. There was a bend in the road, and right now, everything seemed still and empty.

  “Boone, next time can we have police uniforms?” Grace asked.

  “You’re plainclothesmen,” said Boone.

  “We’re not men,” said Grace.

  The ambulance careened around the bend. “Shut up,” I said. I straightened, tensing against the car.

  Grace saw it too. Her eyes widened.

  It was all I could manage to stand my ground as the ambulance came for us. Standing in front of a hurtling vehicle, praying it’s going to stop was quite an experience. And I knew I was invincible and couldn’t die.

  When the ambulance screeched to a stop only a few feet from us, my heart was pounding and my palms were slick with sweat. I wiped them on the front of my pants and approached the ambulance. I gestured with my head for Grace to go around back.

  The driver rolled down his window. “Hey, what’s going on? I’ve got someone in critical condition in the back. I don’t have to stop for anyone.”

  I drew my pistol. “The truth is you’ve got a captive Nephilim in the back, don’t you? You’re taking him to your boss so that you can drain the blood and sell it.”

  The driver’s eyes shifted to the back of the ambulance.

  I put a bullet right between those eyes.

  He slumped against the seat. A trickle of red blood dripped down the bridge of his nose.

  “One down, Boone,” I said. We were using bullets that we’d stuffed with a special herb that made Nephilim heal human slow. Shooting either a Nephilim or someone who’d been drinking the blood meant that they actually died. Otherwise, we had to cut off their heads. It was the only other way to kill them. Well, besides burning. I think burning would work too. We called the blood drinkers vampires for lack of a better word. But crosses and holy water and sunlight weren’t lethal to them, more’s the pity. “Grace, you got that back door open?”

  “Working on it.”

  I headed around the back of the ambulance, just in time to see Grace pull the doors open.

  Inside, there was a guy on a cot, totally sedated. He would be the Nephilim they were transporting. There was also a man in a lab coat. He would be there to make sure the Nephilim didn’t wake up.

  Lab Coat leaped to his feet. “What’s going on? Is that a gun? Please, I’m a doctor. I save lives. Don’t—”

  Grace shot him.

  She caught him in the chest. He clutched his wound, his face turning purple. And then he fell down, dead.

  “Nice shot,” I said to her. “Your aim is really improving.”

  She beamed. “Thanks.”

  We jumped up into the ambulance and wheeled the cot out into the spring sun.

  “You want to take care of him?” I said. “I’ve got the ambulance.”

  “Sure.” She wheeled the cot over to our car.

  I got into the ambulance and shoved the dead guy out of the driver’s seat. “What do you want me to do with this, Boone?”

  “Oh, I’m hacking into the local police and filing a report that it’s been stolen,” said Boone. “Just get it off the road and use the explosives I got you.”

  “Explosives?” I said, putting the car in gear. I wasn’t really good at driving a standard. I had to think. I was supposed to put the clutch down at the same time as the brake, right?

  “Yeah, you know, the stuff I gave you to put in your trunk?”

  “Those things were explosives? I’ve been driving around with explosives in my car?” I said.

  “Yeah. I told you t
his.”

  “You did not,” I said. “I’ve been driving all over with those things. Hell, I took Chance to school one day with those in the trunk. What if the car blew up?”

  “You have to activate them before they blow up,” said Boone. “I’ll walk you through it. Trust me, you were totally safe.”

  I was pulling the ambulance over to the shoulder, but I was doing a pretty lurching job of it. I kept stalling out. It was really hard to get the freaking thing in gear. “Maybe I was safe. Maybe I wasn’t.”

  “Are you starting the car again?”

  “I keep stalling out.”

  “Don’t you know how to drive a stick?”

  “We’re not talking about that right now, Boone, we’re talking about how you put Chance’s life in danger, and how you should be ashamed of yourself. Absolutely ashamed.” I eased the car onto the shoulder and put it in neutral.

  Wait. Chance.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “What now?” said Boone.

  “I was supposed to go to a parent-teacher conference for Chance,” I said.

  “Okay,” said Boone. “So?”

  “So, it’s happening right freaking now.”

  * * *

  ~jason~

  I sat down next to Mina White. We were given the only two adult-sized chairs in the classroom besides the teacher’s. The classroom was typical for a first grade room. I guessed. I hadn’t actually been to first grade at a public school. When I was six years old, I was being dragged across the country by Anton, my mentor from the Sons of the Rising Sun, who was trying to keep me safe, considering he thought I was the messiah. My life was weird, and it just kept getting weirder. I tried not to analyze it too much. That meant things didn’t make much sense.

  Anyway, there were a bunch of little desks in rows, all facing the whiteboard in the front of the room. This whiteboard apparently connected to a computer or something, because right now, the words, “Welcome to Ms. Carroll’s class” had been projected on it. Next to the whiteboard was a bulletin board. Twenty construction-paper apples had been stapled to it, each with a kid’s name on it. Each was stuffed with several cards of various colors.

  “Oh, that’s the rewards board,” said Ms. Carroll, as she caught me eyeing it. “If a child misbehaves, he has to pull a card. Each color corresponds to a level of offense. The amount of cards a child has leftover at the end of a week determined what kind of reward he gets.”

  I nodded, scanning until I found the apple labeled Chance. “He’s got all his cards.”

  “Oh, Chance is a lovely child,” said Ms. Carroll. “You are Chance’s parents, aren’t you?”

  “Um, sort of,” said Mina.

  Ms. Carroll raised her eyebrows.

  “I’m his father,” I said. Which was still the weirdest thing on earth for me to say. I had a kid. I was a father. It felt strange to me. It made me feel old. “And, um, Mina is...” I wasn’t sure how to explain.

  “I’m not his biological mother, but I’ve raised him since he was a year old,” said Mina.

  “Oh, right,” said Ms. Carroll. “Chance talks about how he has two mommies. Which I think is just a fabulous, because it’s really wonderful to introduce the other children to diversity and different lifestyles.” She smiled at me. “And it’s good that you’re involved too. I really believe that children can’t have too large of a support system.”

  I tried to smile back. Honestly, I was feeling uncomfortable. Azazel had promised me that she’d be here with me for this. She knew how freaked out I got about these kind of actual parenting activities. But she’d obviously forgotten. Things had been awkward between us for the past two weeks, and I knew it was my fault. Maybe she hadn’t shown up to punish me.

  Ms. Carroll had turned back to Mina. “Where’s your partner?”

  “Partner?” said Mina, looking confused.

  “Your girlfriend or wife?”

  “Oh,” said Mina. “N-no. It’s not like that. I’m not gay or anything. But, um, I can see why you would have thought that considering Chance says he has two mothers.” She shot me an I’m-drowning-here look.

  I tried to jump in. “Um, see, when Chance was born, his biological mother died. It was during the blackout, before the power came back, and things were...” I was a crazy person, drunk on the destructive power I’d inherited when the solar flare knocked out the power in the U.S., and I was more concerned with ruling the world than taking care of my own son. “Difficult for everyone. So, um, at that point, Azazel took care of him until we gave him to Mina, because...” He was in danger from Kieran and Eve, the psychopaths who had stolen Azazel’s and my powers and were using them to control the minds of everyone on earth.

  “It’s okay,” said Ms. Carroll. “I lived through the blackout too, and my students are all blackout babies. The world has changed a lot in our lifetimes.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It has.”

  “So, Azazel is not your girlfriend, Miss White?” said Ms. Carroll.

  “No, she’s mine,” I said. “Mina was in a relationship with Azazel’s brother, and that’s sort of how we met her.”

  “So, you gave her your child when he was a year old?” said Ms. Carroll.

  Actually, Azazel had done that. “To protect him,” I said. “Because things were dangerous.”

  “I see,” said Ms. Carroll. She looked pretty confused.

  Mina looked flustered. “How’s Chance doing? In class?”

  “Oh,” said Ms. Carroll. “Of course. Let me pull up his record for you guys.”

  The whiteboard projection changed, and it now showed Chance’s grades.

  “Oh, right,” said Mina. “This is what I can log onto at home and see, right?”

  “Exactly,” said Ms. Carroll. “Not all parents know about that.”

  “You can what?” I said.

  “I’ll show you,” said Mina. “I have a log-in, and I can go to this website, and I can see Chance’s grades. They update as soon as Ms. Carroll records them.”

  “Really?” I squinted.

  “I can set up another log in for you,” said Ms. Carroll, smiling at me.

  “Why didn’t I know about this?”

  Mina shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d—”

  “What? You didn’t think I’d care?” I sat forward, scrutinizing the screen, trying to understand the letters and numbers on the grid.

  “No, I knew you would care,” said Mina, sounding even more flustered.

  The door burst open. “Sorry, I’m late.” Azazel strode across the room, her shadow cutting into the projection on the whiteboard.

  “This must be Chance’s other mother?” said Ms. Carroll.

  “What?” said Azazel. “Did Chance say that?” She came to a stop next to my chair.

  I stood up. “You want to sit here?”

  “Oh, sit down,” she said. “I can stand. It’s fine. I’m mostly here for Jason, anyway. We’re just recently back in Chance’s life, and I didn’t think he still thought of me as a mom. I mean, it was ages ago that I was taking care of him.”

  “Really,” said Ms. Carroll. She was starting to look a little bit concerned. “Ages ago? How old are you?”

  Azazel bit her lip. “I’m twenty-nine.” She glanced at me. I cringed. It was my fault she’d aged back so far. I couldn’t stop shoving my blood down her throat. “I, um, have great skin.”

  Mina laughed nervously. “I know this must seem weird.”

  “No, of course not,” said Ms. Carroll. I didn’t believe her.

  Azazel shot me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I interrupted. Go back to what you were saying.”

  “Well,” said Ms. Carroll, collecting herself, “Chance is really a wonderful child. He’s inquisitive and polite. He’s imaginative. He’s very obedient. He’s energetic, but he knows how to be polite and to listen when it’s necessary. He’s a joy to have in class.”

  Mina smiled. “Really? Because, you know, sometimes at home, he can be a
little unruly, and I know that with a classroom full of kids at his age, you must have your hands full.”

  “He’s quite well-behaved,” said Ms. Carroll. “You shouldn’t worry. And you’re keeping up with his grades, so you know that he’s very smart.”

  Mina was still smiling. “Right. He gets all Os.”

  “Os?” I said.

  “Outstanding,” said Azazel.

  How did she know that?

  I swallowed. “So, he’s okay, then?”

  “More than okay,” said Ms. Carroll. She managed a smile.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry,” Azazel was saying again. She pulled the driver’s side door closed after her. I’d driven to the school with Mina, but now that Azazel was here, I was catching a ride back with her. “I completely forgot. Boone got a hit on one of his channels when someone from the hospital contacted the vampires, and we had to move fast.”

  Six months ago, Azazel and I had been captured by a group of people who’d kept us prisoner to drain our blood and sell it. Since then, we’d been working on hunting down every group of vampires who profited from the abuse of Nephilim and stopping them. Well, I’d been on the periphery, actually. It wasn’t safe for me to be too involved in killing things. I liked killing things too much. I was afraid that I’d snap if I was overexposed. For the most part, then, Azazel and the others took down the vampires. I’d been spending time getting to know my son.

  I buckled my seat belt. “I get it. I do.”

  “But you’re still mad.” She started the car.

  “I’m not mad.”

  She rested her hand on the gear shift and shot me a disbelieving look.

  “I’m not,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. She put the car in gear and backed out in the parking lot. “I know you wanted me there.”

  “I was a little disappointed when you didn’t show up,” I said. “But I wasn’t mad. I swear. I understand that you’ve got stuff to do. Besides, then you did show up. So, it’s cool.”

  “You don’t approve of my killing vampires.” She stopped at the opening to the main road and looked to see if there were any cars coming.