by Debra Dunbar
The sword jerked back and forth in Rubeus’s neck, making his head bob like a marionette. Asta had to pull her own neck backward to avoid the sharp tip.
“Would have had better luck trying to take his head off with a fucking copier, stupid fucking waste of metal.”
Dar.
Rubeus let go of the lance and grabbed the sword with one hand, elbowing backwards with the other arm. Dar made an ooof sound then a crunch noise as Rubeus drove the pommel into the other demon’s face.
Kicking the lance aside, Asta wrapped her burned hands around one of the demon’s horns, pulling and twisting as she tried to remove his head. Dar scrambled to his feet and threw the coffee pot at the genie’s head.
Pull. Pull. Dar’s aim wasn’t particularly good, and Asta felt herself pummeled with mini bags of chips and candy bars as she yanked. Rubeus ignored the demon and grabbed Asta’s arms, trying to loosen her grip as he worked his way across the room. He was heading for the lance. She was exhausted, burned, horribly injured, and this demon was right at the edge of her abilities. Still, she couldn’t let him get the lance, and getting his darned head off was a priority.
Something huge flew towards her, and Asta ducked, feeling the splash of water as the five-gallon jug from the cooler plowed into her shoulder. Ready to yell at Dar to cut it out, she was amazed to see it bounce off her and smack into the sword lodged in the genie’s neck, dislodging the weapon and sending it clattering to the floor.
Cheap piece-of-feces sword versus an angel’s waning strength. The sword won, and Asta dropped her grip on Rubeus’s horns, reaching out to grasp the pommel as she hit the floor. Rubeus sprang toward the lance, only to be knocked sideways by a flying microwave.
Bless Dar and his little rat heart. Asta rose and swung the sword with all her might. It slowed a bit on the bone, but this time it went through. The genie’s head toppled to the side in a spray of blood.
A headless demon wasn’t always a dead demon. Throwing the sword to the side, Asta grabbed the body before it hit the floor and put forth her final blow, feeling the flesh turn to sand beneath her fingers. The room spun, and Rubeus’s head seemed to roll in slow-motion as she collapsed on her hands and knees.
“Damn, girl. Watch your aim. You almost skewered me with that five-dollar museum-quality reproduction.”
Asta looked up. Dar stood next to the oak-veneer cabinet, the bent sword quivering inches from his head. She started to laugh, the sound edging into hysteria. “Need to rest,” she finally gasped out, sliding down to blessed nothingness on the blood-soaked carpet.
***
She was oh-so-warm, floating in steamy heat while her wings soaked in water. Something behind her stirred, and she realized there were arms around her—and a naked human pressed tight against her back. It shouldn’t feel this good to have all this skin touching hers, but it did, and she didn’t want to move. The water, the warmth, it all helped ease the horrible aches that went deeper than her physical-self. She felt a kiss pressed against the side of her head, a hand lightly rubbing her waist, and a very familiar demon’s spirit-being gently exploring hers, anxious and worried over her injuries.
Dar. Asta was vaulted into full consciousness by the thought of him so close, the memory of what had happened. She hid her wings with a snap and struggled to pull herself from his lap. In the worst moment of her life, she’d thought he’d betrayed her, but then he had stayed behind and risked his life to help her fight Rubeus.
“Easy, easy.” His voice rumbled against her back, his breath stirring the loose hair at the top of her head. “Are you recovered enough to finish healing?”
“I can’t heal this.” She touched his spirit-being with the injured part of herself and winced.
“I know, but it will get better in time. Trust me, I’ve got lots of experience with these things, although I’ve never personally been stabbed repeatedly with a bespelled unicorn horn.”
So that’s what the lance had been. Now she knew to stay away from unicorns. It hurt, but she concentrated and managed to finish healing her physical form. Then she resumed trying to get out of the tub—and most especially off Dar’s naked lap. His physical body was beginning to express some very non-saintly desires, and as vulnerable as she felt, Asta wasn’t likely to say no.
“Take it easy. Just relax. I’m not going to do anything. I vow on all the souls I Own that I’m just going to hold you until I’m sure you can stand on your own without collapsing and spilling your brains all over the bathroom tiles.”
Darn. It would be kind of nice to have him do something, although, as bad as she hurt, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Why are we here?” Thank the Creator her voice sounded less weak and pathetic.
“You were shaking with cold, and I figured a hot bath would help. After scraping you up off the floor and carrying you through the business district, I didn’t exactly want to let you drown in a tub, so I got in with you.”
“Naked?”
“Did you want me to ruin my suit?”
Of course not. It was a very nice suit. Wait—. “You carried me? You carried me all the way here from the Loop?”
“It’s not like I could take a taxi or anything. You revealed your wings when you passed out. I had no idea how to get you in the backseat of a vehicle with those things. Maybe if I stuck them out the windows, but I didn’t want to risk breaking them in half. You’ve got some big-ass wings, girl. I like it.” The demon began to sing a song about how he liked big wings and he could not lie.
Oh, by all that was holy—her wings. Demons had no ability to entrance humans. Everyone they passed had to have seen her wings. Everyone on the street, in the hotel lobby….
Dar chuckled. “You should have seen the look on the humans’ faces. I told them we were at a costume party and you’d passed out drunk from doing tequila body shots. Everyone was very helpful, opening doors and holding the elevator.”
“But we were all bloody. My clothes were ripped to shreds. What kind of costume party were we at that we’d be covered in blood?”
“A really good one?” Dar laughed. “Nah, you were dressed as a zombie angel, and I was your snack for the evening.”
“It’s what, ten o’clock in the morning? I’m passed out drunk and we’re coming home from a costume party late Saturday morning?”
“It’s Chicago. No one batted an eye.” The demon nuzzled her hair. “Wanna eat my brains?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “What brains?” This felt so good, sitting in the hot water enclosed in his arms, laughing together. He did have brains. He was clever and funny, strong and sexy. He’d saved her life with that stupid sword and various kitchenette projectiles.
And he’d killed a human. It didn’t matter that she’d managed to bring Carter back to life; Dar had violated the terms of his immunity.
“Carter... .” She wasn’t sure how to say it.
“Oh, for fuck sake. He’s fine. Probably in the hospital by now. I was more worried about getting you out of there and making sure you were okay to bother with your little human pet.”
That was the Dar she knew and loved. Asta leaned against him and buried her face in his chest, trying to commit every bit of him to memory. “You knifed him with scissors.”
This time he sighed, his arms tightening around her.
“I know, I know. I’m toast. You’ll fill out fifty forms in triplicate, and within half an hour, every angel in and out of Aaru will be gunning for me. I’m a dead demon.”
How could she explain it otherwise? She was terrible at lying, and if her report was subpar, the Ruling Council could entrance Carter and get the truth from him. There was no way she could keep Dar out of this.
“You want to kill me instead?” His voice had a rough edge under the teasing tone. “I’d rather meet my end at your hands than by some pompous asshole who will take enormous pleasure in lopping my head off.”
She wouldn’t take pleasure in it. She’d hate every moment of it. Ther
e was no way she could kill him, never in a billion years. And there’s no way she could implicate him in the report. She would buy him time enough to get safely back to Hel at least. Stirring, Asta pulled away to pivot on his lap and look into his silver-gray eyes. They were serious—sad and full of regret. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to sink back against him and let the warm water wash the rest of the world away.
But she was returning to Aaru. In a few hours, there would be no more tubs, no more flying in the city, drinking espresso, delighting in the slide of silk against her skin. There would be no more Dar.
“You need to get out of here. Go back to Hel. I’ll delay the report for a few days, and I’ll lie. They’ll eventually find out, but you’ll be safely home by then.”
His hands stroked her hair, tugging gently at the wet curls. “You’d lie for me?”
She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of him against her. “Yes.”
One word carried so much meaning. She’d more than lie for him; she’d fall for him. He was so much more than a fling, than a bit of sin before leaving this earthly plane. Dar was her heart.
For a moment they sat motionless until Dar gently moved her from his lap and rose, water cascading off his skin. “Are you okay?”
She watched him climb out of the tub, dry himself off, and dress. “Yes. I’m fine,” she lied.
Too quickly he was fully clothed. The tub suddenly seemed far too big for one being.
“Goodbye, Asta.” He struggled, as if there was something else he wanted to say. Then he snapped his mouth shut and gestured toward her. “Take care, okay? Don’t let those asshole angels beat you down.”
She nodded. “Stay safe, Dar.”
With that, he was gone. And a city full of two-point-seven-million people never felt so empty.
Chapter 22
The weather was circling down from the north, bringing a sharp bite of cold into the autumn morning. Typical. The colorful leaves and crisp scent were Chicago’s brief nod to fall before winter came roaring in with all its might. No matter the season, this was her city, and it was beautiful—especially when she was nine hundred feet above ground, watching the sunrise with a cup of steaming espresso in hand.
Cars made their way along Lake Shore Drive, hinting at the rush hour to come. Sweepers and garbage trucks banged their way through the side streets and alleyways. Once things started moving and shaking, she’d drop downtown for breakfast and some window-shopping. Maybe grab a book and head for Millennial Park. Cobb salad for lunch. Catch an early comedy show at Second City or Zanies, then over to Stanley’s to see the guys. Unless a demon popped onto her radar—then all other plans were on hold. Of course, she hadn’t sensed a demon in months, and wasn’t likely to anytime soon.
It was better than meditation in Aaru, this daily routine of hers. She thanked the stars every time she remembered her return home, how she’d begged to be given another century of assignment. Gabriel had needed her there; her report of Rubeus had raised all sorts of red flags. She was too young; she could have died, blah, blah, blah. Why they’d finally allowed her to return, she had no idea. Best not to question these things in case the opportunity vanished under scrutiny.
Three months and no sign of him. Had he come back while she was in Aaru and assumed she was gone forever? Had he been killed? Was he afraid to leave Hel? Afraid wasn’t a word Asta would think to associate with Dar, but just as she was unwilling to question the Ruling Council’s decision about her, she was equally unwilling to ask about the demon’s whereabouts.
No, she was just afraid. He was too clever to be killed, to brave to cower in Hel for the rest of his life, but he probably had moved onto the next fun adventure. Without her. That’s what she feared. That’s the truth she didn’t want to know.
Asta rose, drinking the last of her espresso and stretching her wings. Time to get a move on if she wanted a quick flight along the lake before the traffic hit. She stepped to the edge of the roof, inhaling to catch the scent of cold air off the water. The building trembled in a gust of wind that roared in her ears and carried with it the faint note of demon-song.
Dar.
She froze, her heart jumping into her throat. She’d recognize his energy anywhere. He was here—in her city. He was heading this way.
Wings snapped into hiding. Asta raced for the rooftop stairs, taking them two at a time and bursting into her little condo. What to wear, what to wear? Oh shit—shoot, he was coming. Hangers and clothes flew as she tore through the racks, selecting then discarding various dresses and pants suits. In the end, she chose jeans and the simple white button-down oxford shirt with the high-top sneakers she’d worn during their rooftop sashimi dinner.
Tearing back up the steps, Asta raced around the roof, trying to find a good place to sit. Or stand. Or recline. One where she looked sexy and casual, but not like she was posed, or waiting for him. Shit, shit, he was in the building. Wings out or not? He liked her wings, but they’d mess up the lines of her shirt, and she’d have to repair the tears.
The door opened, and Asta threw herself to the ground, trying to look serene and contemplative while her heart tore around her chest like an Indy Car.
“Hi.” After three months, after all they’d been through together, all they’d shared, and that was what came out of her mouth? Sheesh.
Dar grinned and walked over, gingerly sitting down beside her and casting a nervous glance over the roof edge. “Promise me you’ll scoop me up if I fall off?”
“Before or after you hit the ground?” Witty comeback. That was more like it.
“Fuck, I hope before. Otherwise you’ll need one of those street sweepers.” He tilted his head, eyes warm as they examined her face. “Sorry I’m late. I had a few things to do in Hel that took longer than expected.”
Her whole body heated up like one big flame. “You knew I was here? I mean, not in Aaru?”
His smile turned suggestive. “One should always know where one’s angel is.”
Asta scooted closer, resting her hand on his thigh and her spirit-self against his. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be back at all. Your angel came pretty close to being in Aaru for the rest of her life.”
“Yes, I know.” He scowled at her, but his eyes danced with laughter. “Could that report of yours be any shittier? That thing had holes big enough to drive a truck through. Rubeus accidentally stabs his possessed human with scissors, killing Carter Phelps. Then after being impaled repeatedly with a unicorn horn, you manage to decapitate him with a microwave and a cheap Excalibur knock-off then crawl halfway across the city to a hotel penthouse suite.”
She slid her hand up his leg. “The Iblis thought it was a riveting tale, and Rafael said I showed great resourcefulness.”
Dar snorted. “Yeah. If you didn’t have that tight-ass Gabriel wound around your wing, you would have been fucked.”
Her mentor had come through, although he’d made it quite clear how disappointed he was both with her report and her insistence on returning. But with Rubeus dead, and Carter Phelps rather confused about the events in question, Gabriel had ruled in her favor.
“Carter is having a tough time of it.” He was. The human was being indicted on various cyber-crime charges and being sued by at least six corporations. But he was alive, and the last time she’d seen him, he had introduced her to a lady friend. Hopefully things would work out for him.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about Carter Phelps.” Dar grabbed her hand and moved it from his thigh to between his legs. “I’ve missed you, Asta. You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you, and I don’t just mean sex. But I have missed sex with you, too. How about we go roll around the clothes in your gigantic closet, and I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.”
By all of Creation, she loved this demon. And even though he hadn’t said the words, she could see by the gleam in his eyes that he loved her right back. No matter. She’d get the words out of him.
With a gentle squeeze of her hand, she had him.
“Damn.” Dar groaned, standing and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go now before I shoot a load in my pants.”
“Lovely.” She laughed. “Your pillow talk could use some work there, big boy.”
He pulled her against him, kissing her deep while his hands dug through her curls. Breaking the kiss, his silver-gray eyes met hers. “I love you, Asta. I love you, and you’re mine. How’s that for pillow talk?”
She stared at him, drinking him in. Her very soul sang at the thought of her future with him. “Better. Although you’ll need to repeat it several times per day.”
His hand caressed her cheek as his lips reached for hers. “Deal.”
About the Author
Debra Dunbar primarily writes dark fantasy, but has been known to put her pen to paranormal romance, young adult fiction, and urban fantasy on occasion. She lives on a farm in the northeast section of the United States with her husband, three boys, and a Noah’s ark of four legged family members. When she can sneak out, she likes to jog and ride her horse, Treasure. Treasure, on the other hand, would prefer Debra stay on the ground and feed him apples.
Connect with Debra Dunbar on Facebook at DebraDunbarAuthor, on Twitter @Debra_Dunbar, or at her website
Thank you for your purchase of this book. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on Goodreads, or at the e-retailer site from which you purchased it. Readers and authors both rely on fair and honest reviews.
Books in the Imp Series
A DEMON BOUND (Book 1)
SATAN'S SWORD (Book 2)
ELVEN BLOOD (Book 3)
DEVIL’S PAW (Book 4)
IMP FORSAKEN (Book 5)
ANGEL OF CHAOS (Book 6)
IMP (Imp Series, prequel novella)
KINGDOM OF LIES (Book 7) Fall, 2015 Release
Books in the Imp World
NO MAN’S LAND
STOLEN SOULS
THREE WISHES
Half-Breed Series.
