30 Ways to Fool an Angel (Tales of a Midlife Witch #7)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

M om glared at Tony. I bet she wondered if he was going to say she owed him. Would it upset her to know he only saved her because he was compelled to save me? I would be upset to hear something like that.

Maybe it was best to say nothing. At least we both were alive.

Maybe I should just let the angel be the bastard he was and not get involved in their philosophical debate about his duties.

When Mom narrowed her eyes at Tony, I covered mine. Now she was really mad. Danu, help us all.

“I’m grateful ya stopped Ezra, but the snake fight is my battle. There will be no mercy for Hisser this time. He ate several of the witches that the fairy had forced to serve him. One of them might have been my friend. I can’t live my life wondering who else he’s going kill, use, or eat. So turn me loose and let me end this.”

Tony’s second sigh over her announcement was even louder than the ones when dealing with me. He could be such a controlling bastard when he wanted to be. In my opinion—which I felt counted more now after being in prison—being more powerful than my mother and her enemies did not give him the right to be condescending about her work.

My temper rose once more when Tony merely smirked at my mother’s explanation.

“I can certainly see where your child gets her temper from. But I still can’t let you kill him. Now that I’m involved —thanks to your daughter’s insistence—I’m tasked with finding an amenable solution for everyone.”

He turned his head and pretended to retch over having to help us.

When he turned back to face us, he grinned even wider than before. “Doing good is my eternal punishment.”

I decided that was about enough of my mentor’s holier-than-thou attitude. Who was he to say what had to be done? My mother had been making decisions like this all her life. She fought for good and did good all the time.

He knew full well he couldn’t control me and my temper. Why would he think controlling Mom would work?

I snarled as I stalked toward him. I was going to shove him backward until the arrogant bastard learned to talk to my mother with some measure of respect. “Look here, you six-fingered hooligan. You are not allowed to talk to my mother that way.”

Rolling his eyes at me, Tony waved a hand and froze me in place. Or stopped me in time. I still couldn’t tell what sort of physics he was bending.

The joke was on him because the ring let me listen to him and Mom. The evil fairy and I might appear to be matching statues but I heard everything my outraged Mom and he were arguing about. Could the fairy hear too? That would be terrible and yet oddly poetic.

Recently, Mom had told me only guardians had the sort of power someone like Tony wielded. If Tony was a guardian, he was not like Rasmus or Orlin. He didn’t change forms the way they did. He could pop out his wings and fly while in his human form. Plus, his voice hurt no one—or not that I’d seen. Orlin’s voice had shattered Mom’s eardrums.

As I listened to the two of them fight, I admit I was a little disappointed that Mom didn’t sound angrier when she responded to Tony. Normally, she would have taken Tony’s head for freezing me, but I guess Mom was too exhausted from her fight to stay alive.

Or maybe Mom felt obliged to overlook his actions because he’d technically saved her life. I might have felt that way in her shoes. She sounded like she’d gone into her calm space. I’d learned long ago to be wary of that mood because I could never win an argument when she was in it.

Mom blinked at him. “Six-fingered?” she asked.

Snickering at Mom’s question, which omitted addressing the finer points of my insult, Tony held up both hands to show her that indeed he had six fingers on each hand.

Why was he always using his hands to show his strangeness? He was so damn secretive. Even my father wasn’t that secretive. Well, he was a liar, but a secretive liar who lied to keep me from knowing things.

I was surprised when Mom’s smile grew wider. “Is it useful to ya to have that extra digital on each hand? Were ya born that way?”

“Something like that,” he said.

I could tell Tony was trying hard to come up with some story he’d thought Mom would believe. But she jumped right to the heart of things, as usual. “Don’t try to fool me. Are ya a guardian?”

“Well...” he drawled, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not supposed to tell people what I am, but since your daughter can’t keep her mouth shut, you might as well hear it from me. No, I am not a guardian. Those ancient ones replaced my kind. They got called in after those like me were judged to have screwed up humanity. But have they actually done a better job than us? I think that’s highly debatable.”

Just what the hello Texas was he talking about?

He’d just given my mother the most straightforward answer I’d ever heard him give anyone. Tony said he wasn’t a guardian. He had actually denied it. I’d heard him.

But he had powers similar to theirs—maybe even exceeding them.

And he hinted that he’d once been one of them. So what did that make him?

Mom said guardians once had been called watchers . That meant he had to be sort of like them. If watchers morphed into guardians. What had Tony’s kind morphed into?

I still thought he was what people called an angel. Many holy books referred to the watchers as also being fallen angels . The only question I still had was if Tony was one of the fallen ones.

I had my opinions on what he was, but he’d just admitted to Mom that he was compelled to do good. Who was doing the compelling? That’s the being he should address as “Your Highness”, right?

My eyes couldn’t move but I saw Mom laughing and rubbing her face. When she tried to turn toward me, she seemed surprised to discover her feet were finally free.

Still pissed over being restrained, Mom fisted her hands on her hips and stared at Tony. “So what do you think needs to be done? Hisser thinks he’s a god, and twenty years behind bars never changed his mind. I refuse to send him back to prison.”

Tony smiled at her. “I don’t blame you. A single day in prison changed you forever. I can see why you’d be disappointed in your enemy for never having had a proper epiphany about his crimes. Prison did you some good, though, Aran of The Dagda. For one thing, you don’t tolerate bullshit the way you used to.”

Mom narrowed her eyes at Tony’s mind-reading trick and glared at him again. “Are ya sure ya’re not a guardian?” she demanded.

Tony simply snorted. “You say that like you interact with them daily.”

I wanted to snort and tell him he’d be surprised at all the creatures my mother interacted with regularly. She and Conn both seemed to be monster magnets these days.

“Can we get back to yer problem with my fight?” Mom asked. “My slimed friends on the other side of the room still need saving. Their skin is rotting away while we chat about yer reluctance for me to kill the creature who did that to them.”

Her rant caused Tony to roll his eyes at her again. He could be such a rude dude. “They’re not rotting. The demon would never let that happen to his magickal Asian. He’s too much in lurve...”

His thick sarcasm should have offended Mom further, but Tony was a kindred soul with his slightly mean teasing. I could see the two of them becoming fast friends. They both had a wide, wicked streak. I had yet to find mine, but Tony’s constant irritation had me searching inside myself daily for it.

Laughter burst out of my mother. “If ya’re an angel, ya’re certainly a wicked one. No radiant robes. No halo. Good Goddess, yer kind is nothing at all like people imagine them to be.”

“And you are so very pagan. Do you hear me denigrating your beliefs?” he said with a haughty sniff.

Even though she continued to glare at him, Mom also laughed at everything he said. That meant she liked him. Or at least, she respected him. Yet I could also see why my grandfather hadn’t liked him at all. I had arrived at a point where I loathed and liked him in equal measure. It was the strangest of conflicts.

“So what’s yer name, angel?” Mom demanded.

“Stop calling me that,” he said. “And I never told you what I was so stop trying to goad me. My name is Tony. That’s all you need to know.”

She laughed again. “Your name is not Tony. Tell me yer real name.”

Tony pursed his lips and crossed his arms, not answering her. The angelic being didn’t seem to want to intervene but he was doing it anyway. By now, I knew what Tony most wanted to do was walk out of the cave and leave everyone to do whatever pleased them. But he couldn’t because he was compelled to do something different from what made sense to him.

Mom understood that way more than he knew. She smirked at him as she crossed her arms. “So... Tony . Would ya like to hear a few suggestions about how we might mutually resolve this situation?”

Tony tilted his head and studied her. “Well, I can see your heart feels warm and fuzzy toward others most of the time—much more so than your testy daughter’s.”

“Fiona’s father raised her during her teenage years. I regret that every day but she’ll have to fix that aspect of her character on her own.”

“Her self-centered sperm donor used Fiona’s well-being to control your actions, as well as hers. I know all about your life from Fiona’s stories. That’s why I’m up for hearing what you have to say. It’s very difficult for me to work out warm and fuzzy scenarios. I’ve gotten better over the millennia but still find it to be so very tedious. Yes, that is the correct word for what I feel. Being too good is tedious.”

A noise at the entrance to the room made Mom’s head swivel on her shoulders. Her far darrig friend stumbled in and stared at Hisser’s giant snake form. Hisser’s human torso had returned at some point. He had a bloody face and was still writhing in pain.

Brave as always, Mom waved him over and around Hisser. The far darrig looked up at me and Tony when he stopped beside us. Then he turned and stared at me as if I were a ghost.

To make sure he saw the whole picture, Mom pointed behind him too. The man turned, and then jumped and rammed back into Mom at the sight of Ezra in attack mode.

Mom chuckled as she pushed him gently away. “Ezra can’t hurt ya.”

She smiled while she made introductions. “Dylan, this is Ton y. The frozen woman is my daughter Fiona. Tony shut her up for a few moments because she wouldn’t stop ranting. And Ezra... well, Tony stopped him as well. I would say Tony was the answer to my prayers, but I don’t think he’d see that as a compliment since it would be coming from a pagan.”

Did my hot-tempered, mouthy mother just accuse me of ranting?

When I got unfrozen, she and I were going to have a little talk. She was a ranting professional. Anyone with ears could tell my nutty ranting had dropped into my bloodline through the O’Malley tree. Gigi could hold her ranting own as well. The women in my family were never shy about expressing their opinions.

Tony held up a warning finger to Mom. “I did not save you on purpose. The only reason I stopped the fairy was because the fiend was going after Fiona. My power is for protecting her and the life she lives while we’re doing her training. My power increases or decreases based on my emotional decision-making about who or what I’m charged with guarding. It’s very complicated and I can’t talk about my actual work. It’s forbidden.”

Mom huffed. “It sounds like yer work involves being forced into thinking only good thoughts even when ya’re feeling wicked. Ya poor thing. How ya must suffer so.”

Tony held out both of his six-fingered hands, closed his eyes, and nodded solemnly. “It is a wondrous blessing to be so understood. Thank you, Aran. Thank you.”

Mom laughed and scrubbed her hands over her face. “Okay. Here’s what I think. Hisser was not born a naga. He was just a snake shifter. Snake forms are part of his DNA. If ya can change him into an actual snake, we wouldn’t have to kill him. We’d give him to a zoo where he’d live out his evil serpent life. We could make him a hooded black snake. He’d be an anomaly and make the zoo a lot of money. They would treat him like the royal being he believes himself to be. Is that enough of a win-win scenario for ya?”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “That’s brilliant.” Then his face fell. “Well, I’m not allowed to do that to him, but your tiny friend can.”

“Tiny?” Dylan asked.

Mom rolled her eyes at Dylan’s answer. She hated being short but didn’t consider it a liability. Her far darrig friend needed to get a handle on the being short thing. He’d also missed the point that Tony was a powerful being who stopped a power-bloated fairy mid-attack. If I could have talked, I would have informed him that wasn’t even half of what Tony could do.

Mom motioned to him. “Give Tony yer relic, Dylan. He’s offering to fix it for ya.”

“Yes. I can certainly do that. Gimme ,” Tony demanded, holding out a six-fingered hand for it.

Dylan looked at Tony’s outstretched hand and then up at him. “I’m actually quite tall for a far darrig.”

“Get over yourself and give me the relic, leprechaun,” Tony ordered.

Mom nudged Dylan’s shoulder with hers. “He’s an angelic being, Dylan. Not the angel of the relic, but close enough to help ya. I suggest ya do as he says.”

“Are you seriously an angel?” Dylan asked, clearly not believing it.

Tony shrugged. “I have six fingers on each hand. What do you think?”

Being frozen kept me from showing it, but it didn’t affect my shocked reaction. It amazed me what extraordinary lengths Tony seemed willing to go to deny what he was.

Dylan leaned forward to count the fingers of the hand Tony held out. Finally, he set the relic into Tony’s six-fingered palm.

“It’s all right, little one. You can trust me,” Tony said with a grin. “At least this time.”

Tony took the relic and walked to Ezra, circling the fairy twice. “Ah ha… I found it! The fairy has stored the energy he’s absorbed in bubbles. He’s certainly well-organized for a power thief.”

Murmuring words that had Dylan and Mom covering their ears, Tony drew out a stream of green power from Ezra’s side. My eyes moved to watch the green energy move into the relic. Dylan’s dead relic came alive in Tony’s palm, stretching like a person waking up. When the green energy stopped, some brown followed it.

Tony looked it over and then moved to the other side of Ezra. He pulled out some white energy and directed it into the relic as well.

The questionable angel smiled when he was satisfied. “Here you go, little guy. All fixed.”

Dylan glared at him for speaking to him like a child. “Thank you,” he said.

Tony shrugged. “I gave it an extra little zing for calling you a leprechaun. When I called you that, I didn’t realize your kind considered it an insult. You should be flattered. Most people like leprechauns but consider your kind to be thieves and pranksters. I can see you’re a nice guy, though—mostly. You need to stop cooking books for your parents and find better work.”

Dylan snorted before looking guilty. “Did you truly fix the relic?”

Nodding, Tony grinned at Dylan. “Yes, but the catch is that you have to do what Aran said to do to the giant snake thing—I mean, creature. Naga. Or whatever she said it was.”

Dylan shook his head. “The relic doesn’t work for my family. We only guard it. We’re not the least bit Abrahamic.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Then he put both his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “We are all one, little brother. Watching it and not using it was yesterday’s work for you. The museum made a clay replica for the Viking display that will serve their needs. Humans warp magick in such strange ways, but there’s absolutely nothing for you—as a far darrig—to feel bad about. The relic is yours to command. Go forth and use its power well.”

Dylan stared down at it. “I believe the relic is powerful but it doesn’t talk to me. Aran said angel relics talk to their keepers.”

Tony turned to glare at my mother. “Of course, she did. Because if Aran hadn’t said that, you’d not believe speaking to it was a requirement . I swear, every species on this planet is so freaking hard to help.”

Dylan glared at him. “You’re not very nice. I thought angels were nice.”

“Oh, ye of little faith...” Tony sang.

Then he put a hand on the relic and the other smack on top of Dylan’s head. The angel—who did not act like any angel anyone had ever read about—hummed as an energy cord formed between Dylan and the relic.

When the cord faded from visible sight, Tony said, “Ta freaking da,” and stepped back with both his hands in the air.

Mom looked at Dylan. “Are ya okay?”

Dylan nodded. “I think so. Give me a minute.”

The far darrig walked away to stand at the exit. He held the relic in his hands. I watched his head bobbing up and down.

“It’s talking to him,” Mom whispered in awe.

“Shush,” Tony ordered. “I can’t eavesdrop and listen to you at the same time.”

She turned to glare up at him. Mom hated being dismissed. It made me insanely happy that I was tall enough to look Tony in the eye. I would have smirked if I could have moved my mouth.

“Dylan’s right. You’re not very nice,” Mom said to Tony. She used her chastising voice on him too, which was the one I heard most often.

Tony, who was at least six feet tall, looked down at her with a smug grin. “Being nice is not a requirement for my work. All I have to do is be good at my job.”

Mom turned her head to watch Dylan walk directly to Hisser. The far darrig reached out with the relic, laid the stone on a giant snake coil, and closed his eyes. As we all watched, Hisser shrank and transformed.

Dylan followed the snake down until it was thrashing wildly on the floor. When the change was done, an eight-foot black snake with a cobra hood remained. Dylan caught the snake behind its head and lifted it.

After tucking the relic into his pocket, the far darrig transformed into his human form, which was tall enough to hold the snake off the ground.

Dylan turned to Mom, smiled, and held up a thumb. “You have an empty animal crate in the back of your car, Aran. Can I put the snake in it?”

Mom nodded. “Yes. That’s a great idea,” she said, smiling back at him.

Sighing loudly as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders alone, Tony turned and waved a hand in my direction. I snapped instantly back into yelling at him. I turned to look at Mom.

“Did you see him freeze me again? Tell me the truth, Mom.” I knew he’d done it but I wanted confirmation. I wanted a witness . More than all that, I wanted a reason to kick some wicked angel ass.

Mom turned to Tony and glared at him. “Freezing Fiona cannot be a legitimate part of her training.”

“Yeah... what she said!” I stomped my foot like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. It was not my proudest moment but I was really mad.

Mom covered her mouth with her hand. I knew she was laughing at me but didn’t care. Why did everyone in my life find my anger so amusing?

Tony’s sigh of resignation was loud—so very loud. “Okay... I can see she’s not calm enough yet,” he said.

Then the dickish bastard waved his hand again and froze me mid-glare.

He quietly turned and looked at Mom. “Your father—Fiona’s grandfather—was such a calm, easy person. His training took only a month of human time. Your daughter’s training is going to take her years ... or maybe even decades . I was so surprised by her caustic personality that I double-checked whether or not she was the ring’s chosen one. For some unfathomable reason, the ring adores her. It even talks to her. I have no idea why.”

“My daughter is a survivor and not afraid of dealing with conflict. I’m as proud of her as a mother can be. Fiona will be the best keeper the ring has ever known. And I knew it liked her because it talked to me when I was babysitting it. Maybe it doesn’t talk to ya because ya’ve given it reasons not to trust ya.”

“No. I don’t think that’s the case. I have served it well,” Tony said.

Mom grunted at his denial and then chuckled as she went to free Conn and Mulan. My loathsome angel mentor looked so genuinely confused at Mom’s comments that she grinned the whole time she used some weird-looking dagger to burn the slime off them.

Magickal flames melted the goo off their bodies and yet never harmed them. Was there nothing my magickal mother couldn’t do? She surprised me with every moment we spent together. Nothing set her back for long. Not my father. Not falling in love with a guardian. Not monsters. Not even my ignorant rebellion against what she thought was best for me.

I had to admit there was something comforting about knowing exactly how Mom felt about things. She might laugh at my anger toward Tony, but she also would understand the challenges of working with him. And she would help me if I asked.

I heard Tony tell Mom not to worry about the remaining witches. He said he and I would free them from Ezra’s fairy influence. My angel mentor assured her it would be a valuable training exercise for me to help him. Since we’d barely begun training, I wanted to call bullshit on his big talk, but he’d stilled my tongue. All I could do was glare at him in my frozen way.

When Conn and Mulan were finally free of the slime, Tony finally let me go too. This time I kept my mouth shut and quietly planned my revenge. And I would have it because I was an O’Malley. Getting even was in our blood.

The angel smirked when he saw Conn in demon form carrying a frozen Ezra under his giant arm like a football.

I exited the cave with Mulan who was still reeling from what she’d gone through and needed someone’s support to keep walking. The Wu Shaman wasn’t used to enemies who slimed her. She needed a cup of her special tea and some time to get over her shock. She also had to use her staff as a walking stick.

Everyone’s expressions were the most defeated I’d seen them all be. Yet they’d all survived, so I couldn’t fathom why they were so bummed. Except for Mom. Another man she’d cared about had broken her heart that day.

I had no idea what Mom planned to do with Ezra but knew the decision would weigh on her. Their shared past would make it a hard decision to kill him. I knew she’d slept with him once because she’d confessed it to me. That relationship—though it predated the one with my father—probably complicated things further. Or it would have for me so maybe I was projecting.

Mom stayed away from Rasmus for a long time because he kept disappointing her. She wasn’t the kind of woman to put up with some man’s shit for the sake of sex. I wasn’t that kind of woman, either. Our feelings that men weren’t a hundred percent necessary for happiness were absolutely one way I was like my mother.

There was no getting around it. Ezra had betrayed her trust just as Dad had. That had to hurt her womanly soul. The fairy lost more than he could ever have magickly gained when he decided to kill her.

The fairy could be absolved of most things. Absorbing power and saving it wasn’t technically a magickal crime. Mom said it was what beings did with power that mattered. She claimed keeping the balance among magickals was her primary job.

Even after all Ezra had done, I suspected Mom still wondered if he’d truly been bad the whole time she knew him, or if something had flipped a switch. I know I would have wondered about it.

I wish there was something I could do to help Mom deal with Ezra, but I was still having problems with Tony kissing me. I had even more problems with him pulling away and not following through. And it was not because it’d been like ages since I had sex, though it had been. There was just something about the man that called to the female part of me.

As I walked out of the cave with Mulan, I glanced back and saw the not-so-angelic being I was stuck dealing with putting his hand on my mother’s arm.

“Not outright condemning the fairy to death after he tried to kill you is very Abrahamic, Aran. Do pagans believe in turning the other cheek too? It’s a fundamental tenet of many religions.”

Mom grew quiet as she tried to give Tony’s snarky question some real thought. I couldn’t save her from what was coming so I looked at Mulan instead. But that didn’t prevent me from eavesdropping.

When Tony laughed at Mom’s silence, I frowned without turning. That’s how the mean bastard was with me as well. He was wicked enough that my mother’s soft heart did nothing but amuse him. The wicked angel deserved to be taken down a notch or two.

If there was any justice in the world, I would be the one who got to do it.