The smell of burning flesh and hair filled the room. Haagenti roared, snatching the thorn from his paw and retaliating with a burst of energy. I converted as much of it as I could, storing it within me as raw energy, and had the satisfaction of seeing Haagenti’s eyes widen in shock. Yeah, fucker. I can hold more than you. I can probably hold more than anyone. Undaunted, the demon blasted more energy at me, this time in a colossal, steady stream, pulled from our surroundings. The room felt like a vacuum had sucked the air out of it, and I struggled to convert and store such a great volume of energy. He planned to overwhelm me in a game of demon chicken. How close to our deaths were each of us willing to push this?
Haagenti continued his attack as he made his way toward me. I tried to retreat, but had to choose between defending myself from the stream of energy that would cook me from the inside or the demon’s approaching horns. I chose to avoid the more lethal, and felt sharp points slide between my scales and into flesh. The pain broke my concentration and as I frantically clawed at Haagenti’s sides to push him away I began to feel the burn of his energy attack along the edges of my spirit being. I was so fucked. This fight was just about over, and I was seconds away from a dungeon and torture.
“Yield,” Haagenti commanded, his horns still slicing through my insides.
I began to say the words of submission when I felt an agonizing rip through my abdomen and stumbled as the demon’s forward pressure abruptly ceased.
Zalanes. He’d decided to pick sides. Haagenti flew backwards, a shocked expression on his bovine face as the imp grabbed him by his lion tail and swung him around. Haagenti’s head crashed into a table and he lay on the floor, momentarily stunned. I ran toward him, slipping and sliding on the two inches of slush covering the floor. I could hardly believe it. Thanks to Zalanes I’d gained the advantage and now had a snowball’s chance of actually killing this fucker. With a leap I planted my front legs on him, preparing to drive a lethal stream of energy through his form, and felt the bottom of my foot hit something hard. There was something under his skin; round with a slight give. Instinctively, I recoiled; trying to pull my weight off the object, but my momentum was too much to overcome. I felt a click and heard a whisper from off to my left:
“ Glah ham, shoceacan.”
“Fuck!” I screamed as my front legs hit the watery floor. Fucking elf buttons. But who had said the activation words? It hadn’t been me. It hadn’t been Haagenti.
A net ensnared me, holding me tight to the floor and immobile in a ring of light. Now. Now the stupid sorcerers arrive. And who did they hold? Me. I rolled my eyes to see if any other demons had been subjected to this indignity. Nope. Just me. Fucking elves.
I saw a beautiful pair of brocade slippers pause before one of my heads. I was so pissed I would have bit them if I could.
“Is the other one dead?” a voice above the slippers asked. It didn’t seem a particularly caring voice.
“No, my lord. Just unconscious,” a voice off to my left replied.
“Interesting. Dump him over the border. He’ll find his way home once he comes too. The others are free to leave. Usual procedure.”
They’d be ‘escorted’, to be sure they crossed the border.
The slippers shifted, moving out of my range of vision, even with the benefit of three heads. “The Iblis appears to be fatigued from her journey, and the festivities. Ensure she is comfortable in her suite and has a restful night.”
Fuck. A chanting began and I felt myself hover on the edge of sleep. Fucking elves.
8
I’d woke up in a soft bed. Yes, I was well rested. I was also pissed. And I was still in my first form. The back four feet of my body spilled over the end of the bed and onto the floor, my rear legs dangling off the edge. One of my heads rested upside down on the floor, with a beautiful view under the bed. It was dust free. With a ‘pop’ I converted my shape back to Samantha Martin. They could have at least let me change forms before knocking me out and dumping me in a too–small bed. But that was the least of my grievances. I was lured through the gates, under false pretenses, nearly walked into a trap, somehow managed to get the upper hand on Haagenti only to have him yanked out from under me. Literally. Then I suffered the indignity of being circled, dropped, and carted off like a dead deer. The first elf I saw was going to be a dead elf.
The fates were smiling on me because as I rolled over, one walked right through my door. I sprang at him with a speed and agility that the human Samantha Martin would never have had outside of Hel, and pinned him against the wall.
“I’m going to rip your tongue out first, you lying sack of shit. Make an example of you.”
“No, no,” he choked. “Remember me? I helped you last night. Made sure you looked human. It’s not my fault you blew your cover.”
He was right. Reluctantly I let him go and he clutched at his throat, looking at me with a wary gaze.
“His Lordship will see you now. I am to escort you to him.”
I glared at him then dressed in my jeans and t–shirt, which had been laundered and neatly placed on a table. Such a courtesy wasn’t enough to outweigh all the outrages I’d suffered in the last twelve hours.
“I’ll bet he fucking wants to see me. No doubt to stick a bow on my head and hand me over to Haagenti. Well, I want to see him too. I want to feel his blood run down my chin, taste the pulse of his heart on my tongue, hear his last screams ring in my ears.”
The guard shivered, his eyes wide. “Iblis, hear him out. He was sincere in his offer to you. He would never risk his reputation and his people’s safety with such an act. You have common enemies.”
Fine. I still muttered explicit threats under my breath the whole way down. The guard looked ready to vomit by the time he announced me. I strode across the opulent expanse, radiating anger. His lordship walked calmly toward me—weird comb–over and all—as if nothing had happened, as if he were greeting a long–lost friend. I wouldn’t be pacified.
“Iblis, I am so pleased you made the time to see me. I am Taullian, High Lord of Cyelle.” He paused and looked at me expectantly, as if I was supposed to know him. I’d never met this guy before and was far too angry to play these games. I stood silent, burning a furious gaze into his eyes.
Finally he sighed. “I sincerely apologize for last night. Please believe me when I say I had no idea one of the demons in attendance was the one who has a price on your head.”
“Bullshit,” I shouted. “You brought me here under false pretenses to turn me over to him, to gain substantial favors in return.”
“No,” he replied, his voice calm. “I would never sabotage my own festival, appear a fool in front of my guests, a paltry lord who cannot protect his own people or control a pack of unruly demons. Someone made sure Haagenti was on the guest–list, let him know you would be here. Someone wanted me to look weak at my own festival.”
He waited a moment while I struggled to gain control. He was right. Elves watched carefully for weakness like this. He’d face internal and external pressure as a result.
“Why do you feel the need for that guy, then,” I asked, gesturing toward the sorcerer trying to be unobtrusive in the corner.
He smiled. “From what I could see last night, you are a formidable foe. And I knew you’d be very angry with me.”
“Fuck yeah,” I glared. But it was a halfhearted glare.
He backed away a slight step. “When I find out who orchestrated last night’s events, there will be repercussions.”
I moved closer, leaning in to where his ear would be under that mountain of hair. He jerked back, a flash of terror on his face quickly hidden. “You might want to look inside your own house first. Someone triggered that portable gate Haagenti had hidden on his person. It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t him. Someone close by knew he had it on him, knew I had accidently hit the trigger, and spoke the activation words.”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “Thank you. I am grateful for that information. I’m certain you w
ill be able to help me with my current problem, and in return, I offer to relieve this Haagenti from the burden of his existence. I believe it’s a good trade.”
“Well I don’t know. That depends on your problem.”
He looked at the sorcerer in the corner. “Leave us.”
The human didn’t question. Rising, he crossed to the door, his robes flying behind in his rush to leave. His Lordship motioned me over to a series of couches and seats. He waited until I sat, joined me and poured us each a glass of red liquid from an etched decanter. Ugh. Wine. And before breakfast too.
I took the obligatory sip while the elf nodded approvingly.
“I need you to locate a baby living among the humans and bring it back to me,” he said, sipping from his goblet.
Well, that was a new one. Usually it was runaway humans. Demons were very good at retrieval, especially when you didn’t care if your property came back alive.
“You want me to do a changeling exchange? Isn’t it cheaper to have a trusted human do it, like always?”
He shook his head. “We have had an unfortunate and embarrassing incident here in Cyelle. It seems there is some doubt as to whether a changeling elf baby was actually deceased when it was exchanged. I want to make sure we have not inadvertently left one of our offspring among the humans. If alive, please bring the baby back. If dead, please return the corpse so we may put these ugly rumors to rest.”
I smelled a rat. Never had a live elf baby been exchanged. The babies were kept in stasis for months, sometimes years, until a suitable human changeling was identified. A live baby would never have survived the wait. And no elf mother would have let her baby go without every test to ensure it was truly deceased. She would have had to be absolutely positive the baby was dead before even considering the exchange.
“No problem. I’ll speak to the mother of the baby first.”
“She is under confinement pending the outcome of this issue,” he replied quickly. “We suspect she may have been complicit in the crime. That she may have knowingly sent over a live child to exchange.”
Yep: definitely a rat. “Right. So this horrible mother willingly sent a live baby to the humans? Never. What was wrong with this baby? Deformed? Really ugly? Did its head spin around as it shouted profanities?”
His eyes flashed at the last one. No fucking way. “The baby is alleged to be only half elf,” he admitted with clenched teeth. “The mother claims she was seduced by an Incubus and deliberately impregnated.”
Holy crap. We’d been trying to seduce elves since the beginning of time. It never worked. Never. Even the most skilled Succubi and Incubi had failed. Seducing an elf would be a huge boost in status. But what fool would impregnate one? Sheesh that was really going too far.
“I’d like you primarily to find and bring back the baby, dead or alive.” Yes, he’d clearly want a hybrid dead, either by my hand or his own. “I’d also reward you handsomely for bringing me the Incubus responsible.”
“Okay, let’s start with some information here. Who is the alleged Incubus?”
“He primarily appears in female form. Goes by Leethu.”
Well, shit. I should have seen that one coming. No wonder she was hiding out at my house. She probably had a price on her head as big as the one on mine.
“And I’m assuming you’ve questioned the human who did the changeling exchange? Do you have a human family name and address?” This should be easy. Go grab a baby, drop it off here, get Haagenti off my back for good. But what to do with Leethu? Something inside me clenched at the thought of handing her over to this elf, sending her to a certain death.
He shook his head. “The woman says she killed the human who did the exchange, as a precaution. I had my people check, people I trust, and there has been no sign of him since the exchange. There was no bill of sale or transfer either—either inside Cyelle or to another kingdom. “
Great. This was getting harder. “So question the woman. Find out who the exchange family was.”
“She claims not to know. Says she was so mortified and humiliated she never inquired. She just wanted to put it all behind her.”
Something bothered me. Why hadn’t she aborted the baby? True, the elves valued pregnancy, so they would not readily have abortion techniques available, but she still should have tried. She should have been desperate enough to go to the dwarves, her own mages, or even paid a demon to expel the fetus.
I wanted to speak to this woman, but I also was curious about something else. “Who started this rumor? The whole plan sounds fairly airtight. The one person who knew all and could blackmail her is dead. Why has this leaked?”
“That’s the part of the mystery I’m working on. It has to be someone who certified the baby dead, or someone in attendance at the birth. All those records have conveniently vanished.”
“How are you going to find out without the records?”
“I’m tracing it backwards. Someone wants to discredit me, to weaken my throne. They have paid for the information to leak the rumors. I suspect Wythyn. We have a rather uneasy truce at the moment.”
“Okay. I really need to talk to the woman though. When did this changeling exchange happen? You must have the human baby from the exchange. Are there records of the gate they went through? The baby’s gender? That might narrow it down a bit.” Wow, an elf/demon hybrid, lost in the world and probably unaware of his or her power and skills. A little baby, confused and … different.
“Nineteen? Twenty years? Not long ago.”
The hybrid wouldn’t be a baby then. Twenty would still be an infant for an elf, but nearly a quarter of the way through a human’s lifespan. Even with the longevity of an elf and near immortality of a demon, the hybrid would have adapted to its human surroundings and aged itself accordingly. If still alive, it would appear to be a young adult human.
“It’s female,” Taullian continued. “They used a gate we had in existence back then in what the humans call Virginia. The changeling family was probably within a hundred miles of Leesburg, Virginia. That’s one of the reasons I thought you could be of help. You know the human world better than any other demon, and you have a residence close to that area.”
Well, that should narrow it down to fifty thousand or so, if I assumed the baby was alive. Maybe I’d start with deaths. It would be a smaller number. I could have Wyatt get me a list, and perhaps he’d have some ideas on how to go about finding this needle in a haystack.
“So where is the human baby? Did she have anything distinctive, anything that might help me identify the changeling family?” If I saw her, I could at least narrow it down by race. I assumed anyway.
Taullian smiled. “We have the human female right here, along with her owner. You can see them now, and then I’ll allow you to speak to the accused elf woman.”
I conveniently left my wine on the table as we strolled from the room to another nearby. Inside was an elf relaxing on a comfortable seat, admiring a sculpture. A human female stood to his left, in a sort of military at–ease pose. The elf jumped to his feet as we entered and greeted Taullian with great deference.
“Iblis, this is Aelswith. He is the one who purchased the changeling rights on the human we’ve been discussing.”
Aelswith nodded at me politely and I waited for him to introduce the human. An awkward silence stretched out, and the elf looked at his lord questioningly.
“So you received this human female approximately twenty years ago after purchasing the changeling rights from….I turned to Taullian. “What is her name?”
“Tlia–Myea.”
Aelswith nodded. “Yes. When I received the human female, she was approximately seven days old.”
I walked to the woman, looking her over. She was blond, fair skinned, thin, average height. Nothing that would make her stand out from thousands of other humans in the Virginia area. I had hoped she would have been an unusual minority, or perhaps had a defect that would have been noted at birth. Of course, she would never have been
chosen as a changeling with a defect.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She shot a surprised look at me, her eyes a deep, vivid blue, then glanced questioningly at Aelswith.
“Nyalla,” Aelswith pronounced.
“Can I touch you?” Again she looked at Aelswith, who nodded.
I did a quick scan, but there was no genetic disorder, no inheritable flaw that might have identified her parents. By this point I’d gotten the idea that Nyalla wasn’t allowed to so much as blink without her master’s permission. It irked me.
“She did come to me with an item,” Aelswith commented. “Normally in the exchange, clothing and all personal items are left behind, but a demon brought her through the gate and he missed something.”
A demon? Demons were an odd choice for a changeling exchange, especially when this Tlia–Myea woman had sent her human servant. I wondered if the human had been killed here, in Hel, or if he’d died before returning from the swap.
Aelswith handed me a small metal object, careful not to touch my hand. It was a ring. A tiny gold ring with an “A” inscribed on it. “A”, possibly the baby’s first or last name. It might help narrow things down a bit.
“I believe it is a piece of human jewelry,” Aelswith said. “Very poor quality, with little aesthetic merit at all. Of course, the human is of very poor quality too. A terrible waste of money. She failed even the most basic of mage tests, has exhibited no magical ability whatsoever. She can’t even manage to boil water without a fire. Even has to have someone else start the fire for her. Her artistic skills are nonexistent, and there is no poetry in her speech. She’s an idiot. An imbecile.”
Taullian made a sympathetic noise. “You can never really tell what you’ll get with a changeling, but it seems you received an especially poor one.”
Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) Page 9
