Kali Sweet Series, Three Urban Fantasy Novels (Boxed Set) by Misty Evans

Author:Misty Evans [Evans, Misty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-seven

The Chaos Demons are a band made up of exactly what the name implies: Chaos demons. In the demon world, there are multiple levels of Chaos with lower level demons and higher level ones.

Even though Rad was half-human, the Chaos magic inside him was upper level. He possessed elemental magic—the ability to manipulate air, earth, water and fire (although fire was his weakest element)—and he could mess with a human’s mind and emotions, creating simple confusion all the way to total madness. Put both skill sets together and his magic was strong enough to create anarchy or start a war.

The other members of his band were lesser demons. The drummer, Bottrill, could whip up a strong wind and cause clouds to come and go. Shine, the keyboardist, could get into the minds of animals and control them. Some shifters as well. The bassist and guitar players, Que and Ozzie, were weak demons who majored in troublemaking.

How Rad managed to hold the band together was beyond me, but he did. Somehow out of all that chaos and bedlam, he managed them into a unique type of order. Unique and very talented.

Rad seemed better than the last time I’d seen him, before New York and my incapacitation. There were still circles under his eyes and he needed a shave, but the emotional angst and inner bedlam seemed eased. Had Damon extracted my vampire-infused blood and fed it to my slaves while I was unconscious? Seemed like a good bet.

We took Rad’s brand new Lamborghini Urus, a prototype SUV that wasn’t yet for sale in the U.S. Rad claimed to know one of the company’s owners who’d shipped the Urus to New York for him. Another reason he’d made the trip. The SUV was luxurious and sporty and completely over the top in the gadget department…a bigger version of the standard Lamborghini. It was even red.

The sound system was exceptional and Rad let me have control of the music. I dialed up my favorite pirate radio station on the satellite and we rocked out to Stone Sour and Breaking Benjamin as we left the burbs and entered farm country. Lake Michigan was on my right, the dark, choppy water absorbing the moon’s light. I scanned the horizon for any signs of storms or errant lightning and saw none.

The private ice skating rink wasn’t just some pond in the backwoods of Illinois. Less than hour after we’d left my place, we were slightly northwest of Lake Forest and smack dab in the middle of an estate, hidden from the main road by a curving, tree-lined drive.

The elaborate gated fence swung open the moment Rad drove up. Fifty yards in front of us was a beautiful Italian-style mansion, surrounded by statuary, snow-covered lawns and decked out top to bottom in white Christmas lights.

Maddy leaned forward from the backseat as we drove up to the front door, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Holy pretentious, Batman.”

To me, it wasn’t pretentious at all. In fact, it reminded me of home.

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