Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4)

by Debra Dunbar

  “Got him,” the mage announced.

  Rifle man slung the weapon over his shoulder and walked over, unhooking Stab’s chains from the rings on the floor while the mage half dragged him, keeping him at a safe distance. Nobody looked at me. Nobody noticed me until I lunged at the mage and wrapped the chains connecting my arms around his thick neck. He dropped the staff and frantically clawed at his neck.

  I jerked the mage around so he was between me and rifle man, and Stab was safely behind us. In an enviously smooth motion, the guard had his gun aimed and ready.

  “Can you walk? Get up and stay behind me.”

  I heard Stab shuffle behind me, felt his hands as he steadied himself on my body. At the same time I heard a whisper from the mage, and yanked the chain tight against his windpipe.

  “If you even start to cast a spell, I’ll pop your head off,” I growled.

  In reality, I was stuck. I had no idea how the fuck we were going to get out of here. Would the mage be a valuable enough hostage that we could make it to the edge of the forest? I had a bad feeling the answer was “no”. And even if he were, attempting to negotiate the halls of whatever building we were in while trying to keep my human shield between me and multiple armed attackers was going to be impossible. Add in the fact that Stab could barely stand and was dragging a five–foot staff, and my little escape plan was doomed. Still, I had to try.

  Stab clung to me, and I edged around, sidestepping my way to the door while I kept one eye on the rifle and the other on the open doorway. I figured if we could get out into the hallway, Stab could shut the door, locking the dude with the gun inside and we’d have one less problem to worry about. Rifle man must have been thinking along the same lines. As Stab peered out the doorway to make sure all was clear, he rushed me. I jumped backwards, knocking the other demon into the hall and dragging the mage by his neck, managing to get out in time and slam the door, but not before the guard unloaded a few rounds. He was either a good shot or very lucky because both bullets tore through my right shoulder.

  I grimaced, slightly pulling myself back from the injury to better concentrate. I couldn’t risk using any of the energy I’d collected to fix myself. There were potentially far worse things ahead of me than two bleeding holes in my shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” I asked over my shoulder, hearing Stab struggle to get up off the floor.

  “You go on without me. I’m just going to slow you down, and I’m not going to make it much longer anyway. If I don’t get some food and water soon, or if I can’t manage to fix myself, this form will die.”

  “Pull back,” I urged, turning my head to look at him. “Consolidate yourself within the form if it dies and you’ll survive. You can exist within any matter, doesn’t have to be alive. I’ll carry you out if I have to, just hang on.”

  He stared at me as if I’d gone insane.

  “Go on without me.”

  I shook my head and transferred my chains to my left hand, sacrificing valuable energy breaking the cuffs that linked them to my right and stooping to pick up the stick attacked to Stab’s collar. I had no idea how to unhook it, but at least I could urge him on and yank him out of the way if needed. Of course that meant I had to extend my spirit self back down into the shoulder that was now throbbing in agony.

  “I’m not leaving here without you. Come on. If we make it to the beach, we can swim for it. I’ve got an Orca that I Own. You can ride on my back.

  He looked skeptical. I didn’t blame him. I hardly had any energy left that was accessible. I might be able to manage a full–body conversion, but then I’d be completely drained.

  “I know an angel that can help get these collars removed,” I told Stab, urging him forward. “If only we can get off the island and back to the mainland.”

  “But the angel brought us here,” he protested, limping down the hall beside me.

  “Another angel. A real badass angel. He’ll wipe the floor with these guys. He’ll shred them to bits and send me their body parts as tributes. He’s ancient and powerful, and he’s gonna be pissed as all fuck when he finds out what’s going on here.”

  Again, I got the skeptical, “this imp is insane” look from Stab.

  About twenty feet from the door, our hallway ended in a “T”. I held the pair back and leaned out into the intersection, my shoulder screaming at the extension.

  “I don’t know whether to go left or right,” I whispered. In reply I heard a muffled scream. I spun around, dropping the stick and pulling the mage in front of me as a shield. Stab was huddled on the floor, struggling under a sorcerer’s net, and before me was the caster, eyes narrowed as he contemplated his next move. I was so fucked. I wasn’t leaving here without Stab. I’d promised him, and I wouldn’t break my vow.

  “Let him go or I’m killing your mage,” I announced, again tightening the chain around the man’s neck.

  “Or maybe not.” A hand touched my un–injured shoulder and I felt the compulsion slam into me and bounce off.

  Compulsion was the least of my worries. The remaining bit of energy I’d managed to pull away from the restraint rebounded into the rest, and I was left with nothing. Stab was powerless and in a net, I had no energy to use, nothing to fight an angel. The compulsion hadn’t worked though, and one less bad guy was good enough for me. I yanked on the chain with all my might and heard a satisfying crunch as I snapped the mage’s neck.

  The sorcerer screamed in anger, and the angel grabbed me, smashing my head against the hallway wall. The grey cement block whirled around my head, and I collapsed to the floor as everything went black.

  ~31~

  I woke to find myself back in the dark cell, my chains once again firmly connected to the floor. In addition to the collar on my neck, I now had one around each wrist and ankle. I’d need to find a weakness in five different restraints in order to pull any of my energy free. I could do it, but I doubted I had the time to amass any useful amount.

  “Are you okay?” a weak voice asked to my left.

  Stab. He was still alive, although, by the sound of his voice, he didn’t have much more than a day or so left.

  “Yeah. My head is killing me and I’ve got two gunshot wounds in my shoulder, but other than that, I’m just peachy.”

  I felt bad the moment I’d said it. He was worse, far worse, than me.

  “That sorcerer was livid when you snapped his mage’s neck. He wanted to kill you right then and there, but the angel wouldn’t let him.”

  “Wish I could have done more. I’m sorry Stab. I tried to get us out of here.”

  I heard the rustle of him moving closer. “I know. I appreciate it. You’re the only demon who’s ever done anything for me.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better. It only made me sad.

  “The sorcerer doesn’t have any more mages, just an apprentice. You killed the one, and he was shouting about how the other one was found dead a few days ago. He was shredded to bits, and his hand was missing.”

  I smirked, hoping that was the one Gregory had killed, the one whose hand he had sent to me up in Juneau. The only bright spot in this whole nightmare was the thought that he wouldn’t rest until he’d tracked down and punished my killers. They’d never get away with it, and if they thought they could avoid that particular angel’s wrath, they were sadly mistaken.

  My mind churned, thinking of any possible way I could get us out of here. If I’d had use of my huge store of energy, I could easily take on the humans. Heck I could probably defeat the angel and the sorcerer too.

  “How long have you been here, Stab?” I asked as I continued to look for gaps in the restraints that would be big enough to pull even the smallest bit of energy through.

  “Two weeks, I think. Not exactly a great vacation, huh?”

  He wasn’t going to make it. He’d either die, or they’d come for him, and there was nothing I could do about it. I redoubled my efforts to search for cracks in the collars.

  “I’m the Iblis. We’ll
get out and you can be part of my household. That means you can come and go through the gates with some minor behavior restrictions. You can visit me at my house in Maryland. We’ll relax by the pool, grab some beer and hot wings, then go blow shit up downtown.”

  He sighed, the sound a hollow rattle. “I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

  “I vow it on all the souls I Own.”

  We sat, the only sound the rustle of Stab’s body against the floor as he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. My heart ached.

  After a few hours, the door opened. This time I saw the sorcerer shadowed against the bright light, two guards by his side. He walked into the room, and the two guards took point at each side of the door. As the sorcerer approached Stab, I saw the angel waiting outside, his arms crossed before his chest.

  “Touch him and you’ll meet the same fate as your mage,” I threatened.

  The sorcerer jumped back, his eyes darting to me with a mix of anger and fear. The angel laughed.

  “Not likely. Don’t worry, we’re going to take you too, just to make sure you’ve not slipped your shackles again.”

  The sorcerer employed the same stick–as–a–leash technique as the mage had, and a guard stepped forward to release Stab’s chains while the other guard continued to keep his rifle trained on my head. Stab was handed off to the guard, clearly too weak to be much of a threat, and it was my turn to be connected to a pole. The sorcerer practically hyperventilated while the guard holding Stab released my chains one handed. The angel spun about, leading the way, followed by the sorcerer pulling me along, then the guard with Stab. The guard with the rifle was our caboose.

  My mind considered and disregarded options. I was truly trapped, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I might be a dead imp walking, but I was going to ensure a few of these fuckers went to their deaths before I did. Pulling back, I made the sorcerer yank me along as we navigated the labyrinth of hallways. About three minutes into our walk, I lunged forward, taking him off guard. The pole slipped from his hands and I grabbed it, giving the sorcerer a solid whack across his head and turning to do the same to the guard holding Stab. My shoulder screamed, and I felt fluid leak from the bullet holes. Adrenaline and desperation does wonderful things to a human body, and I managed to keep a solid grip on the stick.

  “Run,” I told the demon, hitting the rifle held by the rear guard just as he shot. The bullets slammed into the wall, and I reversed, hitting him as hard as I could on my backswing.

  Stab staggered down the hall the way we’d come, dragging his pole behind him, while I spun about. I’d need to face the angel, and without the use of my energy I’d surely lose. Hopefully I’d give Stab enough time to either escape, or hide in the facility. The angel was blocking the hallway before me, his arms again across his chest, his lips turned up in an amused smile.

  “Nicely done. It’s about time I got a real demon in here. You might be just the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  The sorcerer clutched his bleeding head and crawled behind the angel for protection while I stood sideways, trying to keep the unconscious guards in view as well as the angel.

  “I want my money back. I was promised a comfortable two weeks stay before my death, and I’ve been far from comfortable the last few days. What kind of facility are you all running here?”

  The angel laughed and walked toward me. I held the staff attached to my collar with both hands, swinging it in an arc to determine the exact extent of its range of motion. It rotated easy on the collar, but my shoulder was the weak link in my fighting strategy. The initial adrenaline burst was receding, and my arm was beginning to feel numb just as the throbbing in my shoulder moved into the realm of agony.

  “I don’t honor whatever promises the demons made to get you over here. Perhaps your anticipated vacation will await you in the afterlife.”

  He lunged at me, lightning fast, but I was fast too. I parried his attack with my pole, knocking his hand aside and stepping sideways. Rubbing his wrist, he watched me carefully, mirroring his moves to mine as we danced about the narrow hallway. He was toying with me, dragging the fight out by keeping it purely physical. One blast and I’d be on the ground, unable to protect myself from more than fists and feet. I’d done this too — dragging a fight out to give a victim false hope, only to revel in seeing that hope die in his eyes. Knowing what he was doing didn’t make it any less effective, though. My heart raced with the misplaced idea that I might actually win this and escape.

  Again, the angel lunged, feinting as I reacted and sending me off balance from an unconnected swing of my pole. Nearly blacking out from the stab of pain in my shoulder, I staggered slightly. He dove in to grab my arm, his grip wrenching downward, separating my shoulder from the socket. Great. With both injuries, the shoulder was useless. Grimacing in pain, I pulled backward, further disconnecting my shoulder from the joint and snapped a kick at his knee. It connected, but the angel jumped back, avoiding full impact.

  “I think I’m in love.” The angel laughed. “It’s been nearly three million years since I’ve had the pleasure of a fight like this.”

  I could no longer see Stab down the hallway. The two guards were still out for the count, and the sorcerer cowered to my left. I went on the offensive, ignoring the waves of pain and swinging wildly as I advanced on my opponent. He easily stepped around me, but with his eyes on the pole, he completely missed the foot that hooked around his ankle and pulled him off balance. He threw out a hand to catch himself against the wall and I jabbed with the pole, hitting him right under his ribs.

  The angel doubled over, but he also managed to grab the pole with both hands. Yanking backwards, I tried to slide it from his grasp, but his grip was firm and my leverage horrible with the damaged shoulder. The angel took advantage of my movement to launch forward. I fell backwards just as he pivoted, sending me sideways onto the floor.

  “Got you, you stinking little cockroach.”

  Fury flared up inside me. Only one being was allowed to call me that. Spinning around on my back, I looped my legs around his and twisted, sending him crashing to the floor. Unfortunately, he fell right on top of me, crushing the breath from my lungs and enabling him to get a grip on my collar. With a flash of light it tightened, choking the breath from my throat. Once again, the world swam before my eyes.

  “Yes, you’ll do very well indeed.”

  It was the last thing I heard before consciousness slipped away.

  ~32~

  This time I woke staring into a blinding florescent light on a ceiling. I was on my back, bolted to some sort of table by my hands and feet, my neck also attached through the collar. The special restraints were still on each of my limbs. I once again began the tedious process of trying to find a series of gaps to access my energy stores.

  Everything hurt. I closed my eyes, trying to pinpoint the location and severity of my injuries. The repeated blows to the head made me feel like I was ready to puke my guts out. Not that there was anything in my stomach to come up. The gunshot wounds burned, hot and swollen. They felt infected, and I had no way to counteract the raging fever that would soon follow. Not that I’d live long enough for the fever to take hold. Worse than the gunshot wounds, the dislocated joint screamed in agony. With metal stakes driven through my hands and feet, to secure me to the table, I was in a world of pain. I got the impression this wasn’t a usual means of restraint, that the special method was just for me.

  It wasn’t all that difficult to hammer a pike through hands and feet, but it took immense strength to slam them through the table. I gritted my teeth and wiggled my extremities slightly. There was a flat end keeping me from pulling my hands and feet off the stakes, and they felt like they’d been bent as they exited the table to keep them attached. I could probably rip my hands and feet free, given enough time and pain tolerance, but then I’d need to somehow deal with the one holding my collar to the table.

  The collar only allowed me to turn my head a limited amount
, but when I opened my eyes, what I saw alarmed me. I appeared to be in some sort of laboratory. Other metal tables were on either side of mine, complete with straps and what appeared to be a sort of drainage system of grooves. Large teardrop–shaped globes stood on stands along one wall, long tubes roped on a hook by their sides, like a drip. A sort of portable electronic console sat nearby. I couldn’t see or hear Stab anywhere, which gave me hope. Maybe he’d gotten away. Maybe he’d found a way out and was safely heading back to the mainland.

  My stomach had stopped growling days ago, and my mouth was like a wad of cotton. Whatever they had planned for me was obviously imminent. If I couldn’t manage to gather enough raw energy to launch another attack, I wouldn’t have any hope.

  I heard the swish of a door opening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two armed guards and the sorcerer.

  “Seriously? Two guards?” My voice sounded harsh, like I’d been smoking four packs a day for half a century. “You’ve got me bolted to a table. What do you expect me to do, spit on you?”

  The guards stood at either end of the room. They looked rather bored from what I could see. The sorcerer, on the other hand, was practically shaking with nerves. He wasn’t a young guy. I’m sure all this business with the angel and a bunch of demons wasn’t doing his blood pressure any good.

  “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Gareth, would it?” I asked. It would be downright poetic if the runaway sorcerer I had refused to go after wound up being the instrument of my death.

  His fear vanished and he glared at me. “No, I’m Pash. Gareth refused this assignment and ran away.”

  He turned back to the console, muttering something under his breath about how he should have been smart enough to run away himself.

  “You’re Feille’s guy then?” Pash ignored me, but his shoulders tensed somewhat. The guy was clearly in a no–win situation. Feille was a rat bastard, angels were assholes, and the alternative was to run and be torn to bits by a bounty hunter demon. Not that any of this particularly endeared me to the man.