Wicked War of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 9) by John Corwin

messes and keep them hidden from the noms. Unfortunately, their operations had been fractured after the split between Thomas Borathen and the Synod. It just so happened that I knew someone in the Custodians even if we weren't BFFs.
    "Let me make a few phone calls," I said, and paced away a few steps. I quickly found the number I needed.
    "Superintendent Gaetano speaking," said a female with a saucy Italian accent.
    "Grand Poobah Slade here," I replied.
    "What have you destroyed?" she asked in a wary tone. "My resources are limited."
    I chuckled. "Amazingly, I haven't destroyed anything you need to worry about, Fausta."
    She let out a breath. I heard someone speaking in the background. "No, that is all wrong. Cover the fang marks and arrange the bodies like I showed you to make it look like a mugging."
    "Look," I said, "I probably caught you at a bad time—"
    "It is always at a bad time," she snapped. "There are vampires running rampant thanks to this war you are fighting. There are too many of them for their brood sires to keep under control, and they're treating noms like cattle to be slaughtered." Her voice rose to a near shout. "Do you know how many murders we've had to cover up these past few days? I am—" I heard her teeth clack. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "I apologize, Justin. I thought I could handle anything, but the hidden underbelly of this war is terrible."
    "I know." I didn't know what else to say. I was blowing things up while Daelissa's minions did whatever they could to keep snowballing their forces. Fausta and her comrades had to clean up the toxic waste afterward. I wasn't sure if the Custodians still under Synod jurisdiction were doing the same thing or not. "I have what is hopefully a simple question."
    "I will help you if I can."
    "The Darklings need noms to feed from."
    Faust growled. "Where are you going with this?"
    "Do you have access to the list of noms who had to attend those rehabilitation classes for people exposed to the supernatural?"
    "You want to force these people—"
    I cut her off before she took off on a rant. "Absolutely not. I want to ask for volunteers. Since they already know about the Overworld, I won't be exposing innocents."
    She went silent for several seconds. "I suppose your plan is not insane."
    "High praise," I replied dryly. "Can you help me?"
    "I have a small database of exposed noms, perhaps forty."
    "That's it?"
    "I do not have access to the main Custodian database."
    My heart sank. "Let me guess. It's in their headquarters surrounded by death traps and dinosaurs."
    "You are very melodramatic for a man." Fausta sounded almost amused. "The Custodians are not at war with one another like the Templars, even if my division is not officially recognized."
    "What are you saying?"
    "I have contacts within the bureau. Perhaps someone would be willing to copy the database for us."
    "Ah," I said. "Spies. I like it."
    "I will ask around. In the meantime, I will send you my list." She sighed. "Please be careful with my rescues. I do not want to hear of any mistreatment."
    "Rescues?"
    "It is what some of us call the noms we save."
    I scratched my head. "Sounds like you're saving puppies from the pound."
    "Exactly," she said in a tight voice. "They are very much like innocent puppies when it comes to the Overworld."
    I couldn't disagree. "Thanks, Fausta."
    "Goodbye, Grand Poobah Slade." She disconnected.
    A moment later, I received an email with the database of rescues. I called Felicia Nosti.
    "Justin!" she squealed.
    "Hey, Felicia. I have a favor to ask."
    "Anything for you."
    I laid out the basics of the volunteer program in a nutshell and then explained how she could help. "I think a lot of the people who volunteer will be vampire groupies."
    "Vamp tramps," she said in a disgusted voice. "They'll jump at the chance to let supers feed on them."
    "You're also a vampire and an attractive woman, so—"
    "You think I'm attractive?" she asked in a hopeful voice.
    I