by Debra Dunbar
But there was something I needed to tell him. Or rather, show him.
“Ummm… .” I hesitated as I pulled away from him. There was no easy way to say this, so I just jumped into it imp–style. “I’ve got one of your angels tied up in my basement.”
All the affectionate stroking stopped. “You what? You have what tied up in your basement?”
“A Hunter angel. He’s from your choir — says he reports directly to you. He came for Harper, and we fought. I didn’t know what to do with him once I’d subdued him, so I stuck him in the basement.”
“One of my angels. In your basement. Tied up? How has he not untied himself and returned to Aaru? Do you have some sort of magical containment wards on your basement? I didn’t sense anything the last time I was here.”
“No … well, it’s a sort of magical containment. He can’t teleport or use any energy. It turns him temporarily into a human as far as skills and abilities go.”
Gregory stared into my eyes; his were dark and unreadable. I wished I knew what he was thinking.
“Okay. Why the tying up then? He shouldn’t be hard to handle as a human.”
Sheesh. Angels always underestimated humans. It’s not like the Hunter was completely defenseless or with the IQ of a slug just because he no longer had angelic powers.
“Well, he could escape through one of the basement windows, or make a shank out of the shit down in my basement and attack us when we came down, or annoy the fuck out of us by flipping random breakers in the electrical box down there. Yeah, he’s tied up. Actually he’s duct taped to the point he looks like a giant silver caterpillar.”
Reminder to self: when confessing terrible misdeeds to an angel, avoid sarcasm at all cost. Gregory exploded in anger, slamming me into the wall. His irises bled out to engulf his eyes in solid black, and he shimmered. As he spoke, I saw the pointed piranha teeth that meant he’d lost control.
“Cockroach, how could you do this? Why?”
“He attacked me,” I wailed. “In my own house, he attacked me. And he tried to take a woman I have vowed to protect, a woman I now consider part of my household.”
Gregory’s breathing was ragged and hot against the side of my face. “You have restrained an angel who was simply doing his job then covered him in some sticky substance so he cannot use his limbs. And you didn’t think to tell me this until now? When did this happen?”
I squirmed, looking anywhere but at his face. “Um, a couple of days ago? I just … no, I didn’t want to tell you. Part of me worried that you had leaked the news of Harper’s presence and sent the Hunter here.”
He leaned closer to me as the silence dragged on. “And the other part?”
I dragged air into lungs that suddenly felt too small. “He was part of your choir — a Hunter under the command of the Grigori. I didn’t want you to hate me. I have held one of your own against his will. That’s not the sort of thing you do to a household member of a loved one.”
I felt him relax. His hands on my arms rubbed, soothing, although the power he leaked still burned against my skin. “No, when you have a confrontation with the household member of a loved one, you let them know. You let them deal with the issue. How would you feel if I had done this to Dar and not told you?”
I couldn’t help a snort of laughter at the idea of Dar showing up in the fourth circle of Aaru and attacking Gregory. “I’m sorry. I’m a demon, and I’m not really good at this trust stuff, let alone the whole communication thing.”
I reached out in a caress with my spirit–self and felt him return it. He still had me pinned against the wall, still had that inferno of power blasting against me, but at least I knew he didn’t hate me. Right now, anyway.
“Why have you let me know this now? It would have been decades before I noticed his absence. You could have hidden this from me for quite a while.”
“Because I trust you now and I thought you needed to know.” I glanced up into his face. “And, honestly, you would have found out by date–night. He makes a fucking lot of noise down there in my basement. So, unborn Nephilim in my house and a captive Hunter in my basement. We’ve got that problem to deal with too.”
“We?”
Shit. Was the ‘we’ stuff all over and gone? Maybe I should have just kept the angel in the cellar a secret and disposed of him discretely. I sneaked a look at him. He didn’t look pissed. He looked more shocked than anything else. Finally he tilted his face toward the ceiling and shook his head.
“Okay. Let’s go see this angel tied, or taped up, in your basement, so we can figure out what to do with him.”
Everything swam before my eyes, and I realized I’d been holding my breath, waiting to hear his response. We. How I loved that pronoun.
I led Gregory into my cellar, wondering if I could possibly set up some cots for my overflow guests. With the rate things were going, I was bound to wind up with more angels down here. Maybe Gareth could get me some additional nets on an emergency order. It really wasn’t that horrible in the basement. If I slapped some posters on the walls and threw a few cheap rugs down, no one should complain about the accommodation.
Cheap rugs and posters were better than this angel had it. He was still attached to the chair where we’d tied him yesterday after he’d taken to rolling across the floor and banging loudly against the furnace. He hadn’t been able to get loose from the chair, but the way the silver edges of the duct tape were rolled and cutting into his skin showed he had been struggling.
“What is that thing around his neck?”
I winced, remembering the feel of the collar, how I’d dug at it with my hands until my neck was raw and bleeding. Guilt lanced through me. I didn’t want to use it, never wanted to see one of them again, but there was no other way I could keep this angel from hurting Harper or gating back to Aaru to rat us out.
“It’s that restraining device I told you about — a collar designed by an elf–demon collaboration. With it on, a demon — or angel — is basically a human. They can’t access their energy or powers.”
Gregory moved past me to the angel. “Is that why he has injuries?”
“Yeah.” He’d managed to heal the most severe of them in the moments between being released from the elven net and having the collar put on, but the Hunter still had a host of abrasions on his arms and legs. I suddenly saw this from an outsider’s eyes and realized how bad it looked. Heck, it looked bad enough from an insider’s eyes.
“He was going to take Harper. He attacked me, threatened me and my guests on my own property — in my own home.”
“Mmm, mmm–mmm mmm mmm!”
At least that’s what the angel sounded like. I couldn’t really make out his words since his mouth was covered by duct tape.
“Do you mind?” Gregory asked, pointing to the flexing silver band across the angel’s mouth.
“Be my guest.”
Gregory grabbed hold and ripped the tape off with one swipe. I knew it had to have hurt like fuck and was filled with admiration for my badass angel.
“Now, what was that you said? I couldn’t hear you, and evidently the collar also inhibits mind–speech.”
The angel gasped a few times, working his jaw. I suddenly realized that with the collar on, he’d need to eat and drink. Ooops. Guess when this was over I’d need to bring him down a plate of something, assuming Gregory didn’t dump my ass and gate back to Aaru with him.
“She … it was all her, Ancient One! I asked for entry into her home, and she granted it. I asked for her to hand over the woman, and she agreed. Then she hit me on the back of the head after the human woman impaled me with a knife. I was defending myself. Then she drew the sword of the Iblis on me!”
Yeah, I was so screwed. I should have just killed the guy when I had the chance. Gregory tilted his head, regarding the other angel thoughtfully while I held my breath.
“Surely you cannot have been so foolish as to turn your back on a demon. Or believe that one spoke truthfully. Either you are l
ying to me, or you are a fool. Which is it?”
The angel shot me a hate–filled glance. “But, with greatest respect Ancient One, your back is to her right now.”
“I have no doubts regarding my foolishness, especially when it concerns this particular demon.” Gregory turned to me, and I felt my insides warm at his smile. “Cockroach, can you please remove this collar from my angel? I’m rather reluctant to touch it.”
I snorted. “And you call yourself a fool. Nobody in their right mind would want to touch that thing. I can put it on, but a human or elf needs to activate the release catch. Hopefully Nyalla is home.” Because I wasn’t about to get Harper within ten feet of this guy.
“She is.” Gregory looked up toward the top of the stairs. “I’ve asked her to come down here, and she’s on her way.”
Sure enough, I heard the slap of flip–flops as Nyalla hurried down the stairs. She took one look at the angel, at Gregory, then at me.
“You sure about this?”
I nodded, and she walked to the Hunter, carefully feeling around the back of the silver collar for the catch. With a ‘snick’ the silver ring was in her hand. I moved to put myself between Nyalla and the angel, just in case.
“Ancient One, may I heal myself and remove the sticky silver tape that binds me?”
Gregory gave a short nod, and with a flash of light, the angel stood before him, fully healed and free of duct tape, his head bowed in submission. My angel touched his head and golden light flowed around them in a spiral.
“Dalmai Haseha Huzia Rami, angel of the fourth choir, Hunter of Nephilim, you are forbidden from physically harming any humans under the protection of the Iblis. You are relieved of your Hunter responsibilities. You will remain here and serve the Iblis for a period of two decades.”
“Yes, Ancient One. Is this my punishment? For being a fool?”
Gregory smiled and looked up, his eyes briefly meeting mine. “No. It’s a reward. I hope that in the next two decades, you become an even greater fool than I am.”
–15–
As usual, Gregory took off, leaving me in a house with two humans, one unborn Nephilim, a Fallen angel, and a Hunter angel that hated my guts. Dalmai followed me sullenly up the stairs as I gave him the household tour. I wasn’t about to put him in my bedroom, so I led him to the nursery, thinking he could shack up with Nils for a while.
Wrong. Nils was sitting cross–legged on the floor, eyes closed in serenity, seemingly undisturbed by our intrusion. Dalmai took one look at him and erupted in anger.
“I’m not sharing living quarters with that.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, the other choices are with me or the basement, because you’re not going to be sleeping in the same room as the humans.”
“I wouldn’t harm the humans, can’t harm the humans even if I wanted to.” Dalmai sounded a bit insulted.
“It’s not the humans I’m worried about; it’s you. Nyalla is more than a match for you. Harper just got jilted, and she’s got mad knife skills. You definitely don’t want to be sharing a room with her.”
“I’ll take the basement.”
I snatched a spare blanket off the floor and thrust it at him.
“I don’t need sleep, or a piece of fabric to keep me warm. I only need a place of solitude to meditate. One untainted by the stench of the Fallen.”
Okay, this had to stop right now. “Listen up, Dalmai. You’re sharing a house with Satan, two humans — one of whom is pregnant with a Nephilim — and this angel. He’s probably the most un–stinky of all of us. I’ve changed my mind. You’re staying here, and I don’t want to hear any more shit out of you.”
The angel snarled — the angel that wasn’t on the floor meditating, that is. “The Ancient One said I needed to serve you. That doesn’t include me having to put up with Fallen scum, or keep silent about my distaste of my situation.”
“Watch it, buster. That collar is one room away, and I’ve got loads of duct tape handy. Could be a very uncomfortable twenty years.”
Dalmai glared at me, then at Nils. “We’ll do six–hour shifts. That way, I don’t need to spend any more time in the presence of your wretched vibration pattern than necessary.”
Nils’s eyes popped open. He stretched his legs before hopping to his feet with an agile spring. “I’ve completed my contemplations, and judging by your descent into the sin of anger, you seem in desperate need of centering. The room is yours, brother, for the next six hours.”
“I’m not your brother,” Dalmai snapped as Nils walked past him.
“Well, if you serve the Iblis, you’re no longer an angel.”
I closed the door behind me, cutting off any potentially inflammatory replies by Dalmai. As much as I longed to see the two angels duke it out, while they were naked in a pit of melted chocolate, I had other things to get done first — like ensuring Harper didn’t get caught outside of Hel.
I was lost in thought and nearly trampled Nils, who had halted at the bottom of the steps.
“What the fuck?” I couldn’t walk from one room to the next without running into someone. I longed for the days when it was just me, and occasionally Wyatt, inside my house.
“I need to go outside.” Nils’s voice sounded odd, and instead of heading to the front door, he turned abruptly and jogged back up the stairs. Whatever. If the guy wanted to exit the house by jumping out a second–story window, it wasn’t my problem. Angels. They were so fucking weird.
Harper was in the living room, flipping through a parenting magazine with unseeing eyes. I sat next to her, noting she didn’t grab a knife from her belt or move away.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“Tell me about it.” She hesitated at a full–page advertisement showing a joyful infant with pureed food smeared all over his face. “I wonder if Nephilim eat baby food. What if they need to feed on the souls of innocents or eat baby kittens or something?”
Shit. Was this normal for pregnant humans, or did I need to force–feed her some Prozac? “Harper, you’re not giving birth to a demon. I’m sure this baby is going to eat the same strained peas as every other infant.”
“How do you know? Maybe Ben was right. Maybe I’m not fit to raise this child. What if it’s a monster? What if it kills someone?”
“Your baby is not a demon. Even our demon–spawn hybrids aren’t like that. It’s going to be okay.” I had no guarantee it would be okay, and I had no idea how to move the conversation back to Harper’s need to stay hidden in my house for the rest of her natural life. Given her despondent tone, perhaps I should delay that conversation until some other time.
Tears glistened in the woman’s eyes. “Angels have been sent to kill my baby twice so far. What chance do I have of bringing this pregnancy to term? I’m terrified that even if I make it nine months, an angel will snatch my baby from the hospital nursery before I even get to hold him.”
I had nothing. For fuck sake, I was a demon. I wasn’t skilled in consoling distraught, pregnant women. If only I was still bound to Gregory, I could summon him here to help. He’d quieted Nyalla’s fears. I was sure he could do the same for Harper.
I opened my mouth to attempt some kind of generic platitude, when the front door opened, slamming against the wall. Harper jumped to her feet, the parenting magazine sliding from her fingers as she reached for a knife. I spun around, putting myself in front of her and summoning my shotgun. Before my mind even registered who had entered my house, the gun was in my hands and against my shoulder.
It was an angel, but thankfully one who had permission to be in my house. Nils, back from his fresh–air jaunt, strode across my threshold dragging something. Flexing the impressive muscles in his arms, he threw the item forward. It hit the floor with a heavy thump and rolled to the side. That’s when I realized the ‘something’ was an angel, duct taped into a ball and sporting a silver collar around his neck.
I leveled the shotgun at him only to have Harper knock the barrel aside as she raced forward, kn
ife at the ready.
“That’s Ben,” she shrieked.
I’d already fired, and my angel–seeking bullet looped around her toward the duct–taped angel, not heeding my mental attempt to retract it. It hit with a splatter of iridescent white. The angel’s muffled ‘umpf’ was immediately drowned out by Harper’s scream of rage. The pregnant woman vaulted a stray chair with surprising agility and dove on the angel, stabbing him repeatedly with the knife.
“You’re not taking my baby, you worthless piece of crap.”
“Whoa!” I dismissed the shotgun and jumped on Harper’s back, struggling to pull her away without hurting her. I didn’t give a shit about this Ben, but he was spurting gallons of angel blood all over my maple floors.
Nils stood unhelpfully to the side, watching in amusement while Ben groaned and thrashed on my floor. His blood was going to eat a ten–foot hole in my hardwood if I couldn’t get him to heal himself. I looked around for the one human who wouldn’t slice this angel to ribbons given half a chance.
Nyalla. She stood beside Nils, her eyes wide.
“Take off the collar,” I told her, finally relieving Harper of her knife and trapping her hands in mine.
“No. Don’t.” Nils grabbed Nyalla, holding her back from Ben. The taped angel continued to bleed onto the floor, turning even paler than he had been when he’d been flung onto the ground. “He was sneaking around the house. I don’t trust him.”
I didn’t either, but I needed answers, and for that I needed this angel alive and able to speak.
“You okay?” I asked Harper. “If I let you go, can you hold off stabbing him to death until we find out what he’s doing sneaking around the house?”
She nodded, glaring mutely at the angel.
Summoning the shotgun back into my hands, I told Nils to let Nyalla free and aimed the weapon at Ben while she struggled to undo the band of silver around his neck.
The collar clattered to the floor, and the angel healed himself. His hands, no longer duct taped, were raised as he eyed me suspiciously.
