by Debra Dunbar
Once inside, nothing else made any attempts to assault me. I declined the seat his butler dude offered me claiming to be interested in the artwork. A couple of other demons brought in the usual trays of food and a pitcher of some beverage, then the three left me to wait for my host.
Unlike Ahriman’s homes, this place had décor that might be at home in a luxurious European castle. Yes, there were a few heads and other body parts mounted in display on the wall, but the ornately carved and gilded wooden chairs and gold embroidered cushions looked very Louis the XIV.
The door opened and I turned to see a demon come toward me. Not Remiel, by the energy signature, although this demon was old enough to be an Ancient, and certainly had held power at one time, although from the looks of him, he’d been put through the wringer and fallen quite far from whatever status he’d normally held.
The demon snarled and stopped just inside the door, his hands flexing then curling into fists. It was then I realized that I recognized this being—both his battered energy signature and his equally battered physical form. This was no demon, this was an angel. Or at one time, it had been an angel.
“Bencul,” I said hesitantly, not sure how to greet him. How does one greet an angel that you basically hog-tied and tossed through the gateway into Hel?
“Bitch,” he snarled.
Bitch wasn’t one of my names, but under the circumstances, I’d accept it. He wasn’t attacking me, so I didn’t summon my sword or do anything but the same as he was doing, which was stand and stare, with every muscle tensed and ready.
As the shock of his beat-to-crap appearance faded, I noticed a bit more about the angel. He’d been marked. He was part of Remiel’s household. And the Ancient hadn’t just tagged Bencul as a member, he was tagged as a partner. Not as a consort with authority such as I was supposed to have in the contract with Ahriman, but a partner. It was a cross between how a demon would have marked a very precious toy, and a low-level consort.
Whatever it was, it made my stomach clench. Bencul was basically a slave, but a very favored one. Woe to anyone who gave this angel so much as a hangnail. Which made me glad I hadn’t pulled out my sword or done anything threatening. It didn’t explain, though, why Bencul hadn’t attacked me. He clearly wanted to. And I wouldn’t really be able to defend myself without incurring Remiel’s wrath.
The air shimmered to Bencul’s left, and the angel dropped to his knees, his head bent. A large bipedal form appeared, red-skinned with two huge horns curling above his bovine head. Smoke puffed from his nostrils as he reached out a hand and curled Bencul’s hair into a tight fist.
“I’m so pleased you’ve asked to see me, imp-who-holds-the-Iblis-sword. Bencul here has told me that you are the reason he is here in Hel. You are the one I owe for being able to acquire something I value far above any of my other treasures.”
“Um…you’re welcome?” None of this was going as I’d planned, and I had no idea how to deal with the fact that Bencul had become an Ancient’s fuck-toy. He kind of deserved it after what he’d done to Harper, but the dynamic before me was stirring up all sorts of memories of being in Ahriman’s dungeon at his mercy. Did I feel sorry for the angel? I wasn’t sure if I could find a way to get him out of this, even if I wanted to. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to, given what a douche he’d been to the human woman who he’d impregnated with his Nephilim.
It wasn’t like I could send him back to Aaru. And I certainly didn’t want him in the human world either. Maybe this was the best punishment for him—making him suffer the same sort of relationship that he’d pushed upon Harper.
“Stand.” Remiel released the angel’s hair and as Bencul stood, the Ancient’s hand drifted lower to stroke down Bencul’s side to his hip. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with an Angel of Order. Millions of years. I’d nearly forgotten the ecstasy of joining.”
The Ancient shimmered, and Bencul lifted his head, his eyes heavy-lidded, drunk with a feeling that I knew very well. He might be pretty close to a slave. He might have suffered at Remiel’s hands. But there was an attraction there that wasn’t one-sided. Bencul was just as addicted to Remiel as the Ancient was to him.
And I was two seconds from being a voyeur. Ick.
“Okaaaay. I really had no idea Bencul was still alive, let alone that you’d entered into a…whatever with him. Cool. No biggie. But that’s not why I’m here.”
Remiel halted his affections with a sigh and turned to me. Bencul shot me a hate-filled glance, then dropped back down to his knees beside the Ancient.
“Then why are you here? Do you have more angels you’re planning on bringing to Hel? I know several other Ancients who would gladly pay you to have one of their own.”
I was so not going to become the pimp of Hel. Infernal Mates was a different matter entirely. That was a dating service, not snatching angels off the streets and throwing them through the gates into what was basically slavery.
“Actually, I’m here because I heard from several sources that you’re gathering forces to make an attempt on Aaru. I met with Asmodiel, because at the time he was the leader of this campaign, but now I hear you are?”
Remiel smiled benignly—well as benignly as a huge red bull-headed demon could. “Yes, I am. And I plan to advance on Aaru within the next day or two. Why wait? Strike while the iron is hot, I’ve always said.”
I’d expected him to deny it or hem and haw. This bland acknowledgement had thrown me just as much off balance as seeing Bencul had.
“But you can’t get into Aaru,” I said. No one had so far given me anything as to the why they could now enter Aaru—nothing beyond a vague feeling that it was possible. Perhaps Remiel knew more. “You’re banished. Only the Iblis, that’s me, and my household members can enter. And none of those who I bring into Aaru can be Ancients. There’s some wiggle room for demons, but not for those who were originally banished after the war.”
Remiel walked over and took a handful of beaks, popping one into his mouth and tossing another one over to Bencul, who remained on his knees. The angel paid no attention to the roasted beak that bounced across the floor and came to rest a few inches from his leg.
“But there has always been an opportunity for reinstatement, for a reversal of the banishment.” The Ancient turned to Bencul. “You may eat that, darling.”
The angel reached out and picked up the beak, crunching it a few times before swallowing. “Thank you, beloved.”
The scary thing was that he meant it. Bencul was battered, but he wore his wounds as proudly as any demon would. His reply to Remiel wasn’t defeated, or defiant, or anything besides adoring. The term of endearment he used practically caused the air to vibrate with the force of emotion. Bencul hated me, he hated being in Hel, and he clearly disliked some aspects of his status, but it was clear he was infatuated with Remiel.
“Yeah, I believe to become un-banished, you would need to repent and gain forgiveness,” I said. “Now I might be wrong, but you don’t seem like the repentant type, Remiel. And I’m positive that none of the archangels have been in Hel to offer you forgiveness.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. It doesn’t take an archangel to offer forgiveness, it takes an angel. Surprised? I know I was. I doubt any of those flying rats heading the Ruling Council realized that there was a little slip up in section forty-two, sub-section eight, item one-sixty-five of the treaty. It pays to read these things carefully. And it pays to be patient. I was patient. And I have been granted forgiveness by an angel. I’m now, how did you put it, un-banished.”
I glanced at Bencul, wondering how he could so betray his own kind. “I’m sure there is something in the treaty about forgiveness granted under duress. It’s not going to work, Remiel.”
He walked back over and stroked Bencul’s head. “But it will and it has. I did not coerce Bencul to grant me forgiveness. There was no threat, no bribe. Was there, Bencul?”
The angel looked up at Remiel. “I freely gave you my forgiveness, b
eloved. As well as my heart, my form, and every bit of my spirit-self. And you have done the same with me. Your repentance has been accepted, and I have forgiven you for all. The doors of Aaru will open to you.”
Bencul’s words rang true. He really loved this Ancient, and I got the idea that Remiel returned the affection. This might be a weird, twisted sort of love, but it was earnest. And I understood why Bencul had done this. He was trapped in Hel. The only way he’d ever get back to Aaru was if I took him there, or if he attached himself to an Ancient and broke the banishment. I don’t think he’d entered into this arrangement for love, but love is what happened. I was pretty sure he’d been passed around between some rather enthusiastic demons before Remiel “rescued” him, then hatched his plot. Then somehow, he fell in love.
What the fuck was I going to do now? I didn’t really like Bencul—and that was putting it mildly. I was worried that those Ancients who’d suddenly sensed their banishment had ended were right, and that Remiel’s plot might work, but what could I do to stop it?
It would really suck if this Ancient managed to get him and his army into Aaru, only to find it empty and ready for new occupants to take over. Gregory would never forgive me. It was bad enough when there was a chance the rebels would take Aaru, but the thought that his homeland would be taken over by the exiled and demons, while he and his brothers were still denied entry, would pretty much spell the end of our relationship.
It did strike me as poetic justice, but as much as I liked poetic justice, I loved Gregory. No, I would not let this Ancient take Aaru. If I had to stand in front of him with my sword, if I had to kill him or Bencul, if I had to mobilize an army of Lows against him, I’d do it. The first being to set foot back into heaven would be Gregory and no other. Except maybe me. But if I was first, I wouldn’t tell anyone, and would quickly go get Gregory to be the first.
“What if there’s some glitch in Aaru and you can’t get in?”
His smile was a weird combination of tolerant and condescending. “I’m no longer banished. I’ve been forgiven. And once I’m in, once I open the door to Aaru, the other Ancients will be able to follow. You’ve proven that yourself. As the Iblis, you’ve had entrance to Aaru, but until recently, we always assumed that only you would be able to enter. Imagine our surprise when we hear warmongers and greed demons bragging about how they have been to Aaru and fought with the angels. And they’re not lying. Several of them have trophies that are recent. If demons can get into Aaru under your household, then I’ll be able to bring Ancients and demons in under my own.”
I bit my lip, remembering the Ruling Council meeting, the loophole in the banishment. Yes, Remiel might be able to bring Bencul and a bunch of demons into Aaru, but I didn’t think his forgiveness would extend to the other Ancients even if they were in his household.
Which should have reassured me. Instead of an army and a bunch of Ancients in a vacant Aaru, there would be one Ancient and an army of demons. That wasn’t reassuring at all.
I prayed that my own banishment was not so flawed. As much as I hated what I’d done to Gregory and his siblings, if it saved Aaru from an invasion of Ancients, I’d be thankful.
If. It was a really big if.
“So, what’s your plan here?” I asked Remiel, figuring he wasn’t going to tell me his evil plans, but it was worth a shot to ask.
“We have a planning meeting tonight, then we move within the next two days. Our army will teleport just to the edge of Aaru, then storm the place. We’ll kill any angel who doesn’t leave. Well, except for a few that we take prisoner. It’s important to have leverage against any of the host who flee, and we all want a chance to take revenge on specific angels who wronged us in the past.”
Crap. This was a fucking nightmare.
“Remiel, I’m begging you to wait on this invasion. You and so many of the others have been asleep for so long. Things have changed in two-and-a-half-million years. Lots of things have changed.”
“Yes, I hear that the humans have become…interesting. And that the angels are in the midst of another internal war. It’s the perfect time for us to make our move.”
“It’s not the perfect time. If you just wait, then you might never even have to fight them. I’m the Iblis. I’m serving on the Ruling Council with the archangels. Angels and demons are beginning to come together. The treaty’s terms are in debate, and the banishment is being revisited. Aaru is…fractured, and many angels regret what happened during the war and want a reconciliation. There will be a path to reinstatement, if you just hold off.”
“We’ve waited two-and-a-half-million years. Are we to wait another million years? We have the strength, we have the ability to enter Aaru, and we will have the advantage with the host currently divided amongst themselves. It’s unreasonable to ask us to continue to wait. If we miss this opportunity, we may not have another.”
“It won’t be a million years, it will be two or three. Or maybe even this year. I’m not at liberty to give specifics, but everything is turning upside down. Waiting will only improve your chances of seeing your homeland once again, not lessen them.”
“It’s not just about regaining our homeland, it’s about revenge. It’s about making angels suffer the way we have for so long. It’s about putting an end to the archangels.”
“What if you lose? What if the angels win and kill you all or throw you back down into Hel? What if you’re all killed? Do you want to be the one that spells the end of the Angels of Chaos?”
I didn’t include myself in that Angel-of-Chaos designation, nor did I mention Ahia, or the possibility of a whole new race once angels and demons started creating together. Let him think that failure might spell the end of their entire race.
“No Angels of Chaos,” I repeated. “Just demons that weaken each time we interbreed. Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the angels to bring you back to Aaru than to risk extermination? Risk the end of us all?”
“No. The angels will never allow us back into Aaru. Even if they did, none of us could live with them after the war, after the banishment. There’s a hatred there that will never die. I have reconciled with my Bencul here, and he has forgiven me, but other angels will not. We need to move now. The timing is right. We’re powerful at a time that they’re not, and now we have a way to access Aaru. And for that, I thank you. If you had not thrown Bencul into Hel, we would never have been able to enter Aaru and take back our homeland. I owe all of this, all of our success to you.”
Fuck. This was all my fault. I’d fucked up so badly. How was I to know that Bencul would survive in Hel? That an Ancient would find him, and that the two would fall into a sick, twisted kind of love that evidently sufficed to break the banishment? I’d always been a lucky imp, but it seemed that everything I did lately went to shit. Now I was handing Aaru to the denizens of Hel on a silver platter. And making it oh-so-easy for them to take over by emptying the entire place of their enemy angels.
“You are welcome to join in, along with your household,” he said magnanimously. “As a show of gratitude for my Bencul here, I’ll give you a section of Aaru. You don’t even need to become part of my household since as the Iblis you can enter Aaru on your own. Between the two of us, we can take back our rightful home and oust any angels who refuse to bend their necks to us.”
They’d find Aaru empty—if they could get in, that is. And Remiel’s offer didn’t give me much hope. Yeah, if I could get in, maybe I could miraculously manage to win out with my army of Lows against his more skilled one, but I’d never get in. I’d tried. The only way I could sneak in was under his household.
I bit my lip and thought. Now wasn’t the time to place myself under him, not when I was trying to become the mighty Iblis and exert my influence. But if things looked bad, if it seemed like he was going to take over Aaru, to get inside, then I’d need to do something desperate and throw my lot in with him.
And hope that under his leathery wings, I could sneak into Aaru, and once there, un-banish the
rest of the angels. There would be a war just like the war two-and-a-half-million years ago. History repeating itself. I hated the thought, but that would be better than Remiel and the demons residing in Aaru while Gregory gnashed his teeth down among the humans, watching his homeland in the hands of those he considered the enemy while he could do nothing about it.
“I’d like that,” I lied. “If I can’t convince you to wait, then I’d like to be on our side of the invading force. When do you plan on making your move? Most of my Lows…I mean my household, are on the other side of the gates, so I need to plan accordingly.”
“Two days. I want to move fast before any word leaks out. Not that I think it will, but there’s always a chance that some demon spills the plans to a gate guardian in exchange for his life. Can you be ready by then? We’ll leave from my home here in Dis.”
Two days. That didn’t give me much time to prepare and plan, but two days was better than two hours. “I’ll be ready.”
He clapped his hands together and sparks flew across the room. “Splendid! Please let my staff know if you have any questions regarding logistics, what weapons to bring, etc. I look forward to working with you.”
With a shimmer of his form, he was gone, and I was in the room alone, with Bencul. The angel rose, and suddenly he was a whole lot more intimidating than the battered angel I’d seen when he first entered the room.
“He thinks of you as an ally, and that is your protection,” Bencul told me. “But the moment you betray him, the moment you draw your sword against him, or even speak a word of treason to him, I will kill you. And I will love every moment of it.”
I smirked. “Better think twice about that plan, Bencul. I might look like a lucky little imp to you, but I’m the Iblis. I rule Hel, whether Ancients like Remiel know it or not. And I refuse to meet my end at the hand of some weenie-ass angel I tossed into Hel.”
I walked past him, confident that he wouldn’t lay a hand on me, and headed down the hallway, very aware of him behind me, his hate-filled eyes staring at me the entire way.
