by Debra Dunbar
Terrelle and Marco headed off, his arm around her shoulders. Nyalla’s hands shook as she took one last sip of champagne and stood.
Snip eyed her with concern. “Are you okay? I was going to go play the slots for a few hours, but you don’t look so well.”
Great. She’d hoped that she was a better actress than that. “It’s carrying this Tear. It makes me nervous.”
Was her voice too loud? And she needed to work harder at getting rid of that hysterical note.
“Do you want me to carry it?” Snip asked,
“No, I’m fine.” There, that was better. Not quite as panicked sounding. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, then take a walk on the beach. I’ll meet you guys back here at nightfall.”
Snip nodded. “Sure you don’t want me to carry the Tear? You look kind of pale.”
She forced a smile. “I’ve got it. And I won’t be so pale after a walk on the beach. Go. Have fun. Win some money, but please do it legally.”
Snip grinned. “Oh where’s the fun in that?”
Nyalla forced herself to walk slowly to the bathroom, not bolting for it like she wanted. In the stall, she opened her empty Tear box, then dug in her oversized bag to pull out a bunch of inexpensive jewelry she’d bought as gifts for friends. Emptying them all into her bag, she surveyed the six jewelry boxes lined up on the toilet tank cover. Then she pulled the fake Tears from her bag and put one in each of the jewelry boxes, stuffing them all back into her bag.
Then she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and strolled through the restaurant and down the pathway to the beach, the whole time feeling the demon following her. She followed the surf past the manicured resort beaches lined with their chickies, then to the rocky section of pubic beach with an old, rusted car blaring music from its speakers, a few sunbathers, and a woman sitting on a rocky outcropping, fishing.
Sitting her bag on the sand, Nyalla stripped off her t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts, wading into the water in her bikini. She swam, chatted with the sunbathers, then watched the sun drop down to the horizon. As the sky turned tangerine and pink, she brushed the sand from her skin, put on her clothes and headed back to the Hyatt to meet Snip and Terrelle.
And although she’d been keeping an eye on her bag the whole time, she was quite certain it felt lighter, less bulky than when she’d sat it down. Once she’d returned to a more populated area, she looked inside, unsurprised to see the jewelry boxes gone.
That would buy her some time. But the demon was still following her. As soon as they found out that she’d deceived them, they’d be back. And she wasn’t sure that this time Terrelle and Snip would be able to protect her.
Chapter 25
Gabe hadn’t called or returned her text message. There was always a chance that he’d forgotten her instructions on how to use the phone, but she doubted that. Something was wrong. Something beyond the demon following her and the fact that half a dozen jewelry boxes with fake Tears had been stolen from her bag.
“There’s a problem,” she told Terrelle and Snip as she smiled and looked at the menu. “Marco-the-pickpocket must not have been as stealthy as he thought because I’m being followed and they know we have the Tear.”
Snip made a squeak noise. “Are we going to be able to evade them until we can get out of here?”
“They already grabbed the jewelry boxes from my bag. Once they find out they have fakes they’ll be back. And I’m not sure getting on a plane is going to make much of a difference. Is the Tear worth enough to kill off a planeload of humans trying to get it back? Is it worth killing us?”
“Demons won’t care about humans dying to get what they want,” Snip said. “Angels either.”
“But it can’t be the Gormand,” Terrelle argued. “He and skinny demon and the Ancient all boarded the gambling cruise this afternoon and haven’t been back on the island since. Marco’s good. He had them followed and none of them was acting suspicious. They were too busy eating tomatoes and plotting how to rob all the ship’s passengers once they were just off the coast, then swim to South America.
“Is it the Gormand’s other buyer?” Snip asked. “Maybe he discovered the one he bought was a fake and is coming after us.”
Terrelle shook her head. “If so, he’d go after the Gormand, not us. No, this is someone else, and there’s only one other person in play here.”
Nyalla stared down at her silent phone, her heart sinking. Gabe hadn’t responded. And his original reason for being on the island was to catch a rebel angel, a traitor. But something didn’t make sense.
“If the angel is aware that we stole the Tear from the Gormand, why is he bothering to follow us? He wants us to take the real artifact back to Sam. He’d probably be thrilled that we figured out the greed demon slipped us a fake and managed to get the original. He should be hustling us onto the next plane out of here and back to the States.”
Snip shifted in his seat, paying far too much attention to his menu. “Umm, I think not. When they were cutting off my fingers and toes, I had to tell them something. I made up a story about how the Iblis was fully aware that the artifact in question was the Tear and knew how to modify it as well as use it. I said that she had a plot to wipe out all the rebel angels with it, and in return the archangels had agreed to allow the demons reinstatement into Aaru. The angel was furious. I think that’s the only reason they let me live was to send a message back to the Iblis.”
Nyalla caught her breath. “Snip, why didn’t you tell us?”
“I forgot,” Snip complained. “It was just a story I made up to keep them from killing me, and once they dumped me on the beach, all I could think about was how much pain I was in and that I was going to die. Even after G-man healed me.” The Low lifted his fingerless palm. “I’m missing fingers and toes, and still don’t feel right inside. And we were busy plotting how to steal the Tear from the Gormand. I didn’t think it was important any longer.”
It was. It was very important. Nyalla bit her lip. “The angel doesn’t want us to have the Tear now. If he saw us double back from the airport, if he was watching the Gormand to see what happened to the real Tear, then he knows we have it.”
And she was concerned that they had Gabe. Had they recognized him? Followed him from the airport? He wouldn’t be able to defend himself if they attacked him. He wouldn’t survive a fight with an angel.
The thought made her want to throw up. She needed a plan, and she needed one now. And the plan had to not end with either her or Gabriel dying. She’d given up the collar. The wand was broken. She had nothing beyond her gift, which wasn’t exactly useful in an offensive or defensive situation, a few minor magical items and these two demons in front of her.
“They’ll probably contact me once they figure out the boxes they stole have fakes. And no doubt they’ll offer to ransom Gabe for the Tear.”
Terrelle’s eyes grew wide. “If you give them the Tear, we’ll be right back where we started. And Gabe would not want you to give it up. Who knows what those jerks will do with it..”
She couldn’t give the tear to them because right now it was working its way through a swan’s digestive system. “I’ll figure something out. All I need you all to do is sit tight, and if I don’t show up for the plane tomorrow, call Sam and tell her I need her and the angel right away.”
As much as Gabe didn’t want anyone to know his situation, and as much as Nyalla wanted to prove that she could handle these things on her own, she knew when to call for help. Not yet, but soon. If she couldn’t manage to get Gabe and the rest of them safely out of here without giving up the Tear, then it would be time to call in the big guns.
Snip and Terrelle nodded. Then they all sat and ate dinner and chatted as if nothing were wrong. Nyalla couldn’t remember what they talked about. The food tasted like sawdust. All she could do was keep checking her phone for any text or call from Gabe.
After dinner, Snip and Terrelle headed to their room. Nyalla wandered down the beach-side path, paus
ing to sit in one of the cabanas and wait for the demon, or angel, who had been following her all day to approach.
She felt someone with demon, or angel, energy close, felt him glide across the sand. When she turned she saw a fair-skinned angel with white hair and a face so emotionless it could have been carved from stone.
“You know why I’m here,” he said, looming over her.
“Yes. But I don’t have it.”
“Then you best get it and give it to me or your angel friend dies. And die he will, because he is no longer immortal.”
She tried to mirror his bland expression as she looked up at him. “Then the other three archangels will dedicate their lives to finding and executing their brother’s killer. Plus, you’d be killing the only archangel who has ever been remotely sympathetic to your cause.”
He shrugged. “One less archangel to deal with sounds like a win to me. If you don’t care about his safety, perhaps you care about your own. You saw what we did to your little Low friend. We could do the same to you. It would be a shame to mutilate such a pretty face and body.”
Nyalla took a steadying breath. “Then you’d have the Iblis on your tail. And she’s an unpredictable imp with a powerful sentient sword and fate on her side. I think you’d be better served pissing off three archangels than her.”
“Oh we wouldn’t kill you. If you didn’t give up the Tear to torture, then we’ll ransom you back to the Iblis. You mean quite a lot to her, far more than an artifact. She’d turn the world over to ensure you came back to her alive.”
He was right about that. “You do realize that I’m a human with a very short lifespan and the world is a big place. Who’s to say the Iblis even knows where the Tear is? It could take her centuries to find it, and we both know even with tender loving care I’ll probably live no more than another sixty or seventy years at best.”
“You’ll break before then. I’m willing to bet you’ll break before morning.”
She probably would, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. The angel put a hand on her shoulder, and Nyalla turned, stabbing him in the side with a knife. He gasped, his hand tightening painfully, but it had given Nyalla a chance to nick herself on the knife and grab something from her pocket, smearing it with blood before tossing it to the ground.
“Hwilsticceth.”
The air undulated with heat, then the angel gasped, taking a step back and swatting the air before him. “Summoning wasps will do you no good.” The angel’s eyes flashed, then he blinked in surprise, continuing to swat at the air.
She had no idea how long the hallucination would last, but it gave her time to run. She dashed through the gardens, past the front desk, with the angel chasing her, hindered by the illusion he was trying to bat out of her way. Rounding a corner, she ducked into the laundry room and waited.
She slammed the door as the angel ran in and both Snip and Terrelle jumped from their hiding spot behind the ice machine.
“Got him!” Snip squeaked tossing a net over the angel.
It was a good thing she’d been over-prepared for this trip and had packed every magical item she could find. The wand had been broken. She’d given up the collar. There had been only one of the hallucination globes. Which left her with the net — the elven-made net that was so useful in rendering demons, and angels, helpless as long as they were confined inside. Hopefully nothing would happen to it, because out of the four magical items she’d arrived with, it was the only one left.
“How are we going to drag him up to our room?” she asked, remembering how difficult it had been to drag Gabriel the short distance from the door to the bedroom. “We don’t want any of the guests or staff thinking we’ve kidnapped someone.”
“We use this.” Terrelle waved her hand over to where a luggage cart stood, loaded with linens. “We put him on it, cover him with a bunch of sheets, then take the service elevator up to our room. We might get a few weird looks, but with the net in place, no one will hear him screaming or see him thrashing around.”
It was a genius idea. The three of them hauled the heavy angel over and managed to drag him onto the cart. On the way to the elevators, Snip stopped by the bar and ordered several drinks in to-go cups, stating that a good interrogation required vodka.
Up in the room, Nyalla eyed their captive, wishing that she still had the wand, or at least the collar. If she took the net off, she wouldn’t be able to control the angel, but all she had was the net.
Maybe she could bluff.
“Remember how you said Gabriel was no longer immortal? I’ve got a wand that turns angels into humans, and I’d have no problem doing the same to you. I’ll remove the net, but if you so much as lift a finger in a threatening manner, I’ll hit you with that spell. Got it?”
Of course she couldn’t hear him respond, so she took a steadying breath and nodded for Snip to loosen the net.
She waited to speak until again the angel’s head was free of the net. “Now I’m not one for torture, although I have killed on occasion, and I do believe that sometimes force is necessary to achieve something of importance to a large number of innocent people. But Snip here is a demon. And although he is a Low, he is very creative and resourceful, and I believe he also has a score to settle since he was nearly killed by you and still is missing half of his fingers and toes. So why don’t you tell us where you have Gabriel, and maybe we won’t kill you.”
His expression was still blank, but Nyalla felt something through her gift. He was nervous, almost afraid…of her.
“I brought down an archangel, made him human. Can you imagine? You’d only live another fifty years or so, and that’s if you didn’t get hit by a bus, or eat bad shellfish, or get shot by a human. You’d need to get a job, to pay for food and shelter. Your angel friends would abandon you. You’d have to learn to live as a human, or die in a few weeks through hunger or accident.”
Fear flickered through his eyes. “I’ll tell you where Gabriel is being held. I don’t want that Tear anyway. It’s dangerous. Sidriel and Tura are fools for trying to use it. Just let me go. I’ll say you used magic to get away from me, or something. Just don’t turn me into a human.”
How sad that being turned into a human was the angel’s worst fear. “Where is he? The moment I bring him back safely, we’ll let you go unharmed.”
He hesitated. “He’s at the lighthouse. There’s a locked room at the base used for storage and Sidriel has him chained up there. It’s thick, and with all the wind and surf noise, no one would hear him or find him. He’s got a keep-away charm he got from the demon on the door, so none of the humans will go in.”
She eyed the two demons and once more placed the net over the angel’s head. Then she picked up her phone and made a call. When she got the recorded message, she hung up and made another call. And another.
“Wyatt, where’s Sam?”
“Nyalla!” Her brother sounded so cheerful. She could hear the noise of people talking, of some sort of shooting video game in the background. “How’s Aruba? Were you able to go on the dive and see the shipwreck?”
“No, not yet. Maybe tomorrow.” She hadn’t told him the other reason she was on the island, knowing that Wyatt would disapprove of her sidekick activities. “Where’s Sam? She didn’t pick up her phone, and you know how bad she is at checking messages.”
“She’s in Hel for something or another. I think she’ll be back next week, although with her it’s hard to tell. Can I do something besides the fake IDs? Do you need me to wire you money?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks, though. What about her angel? He’s not picking up either.” And she knew he wasn’t up in Aaru.
“His phone took a swim in the Monocacy River a few days ago and he hasn’t replaced it yet. He’s not usually around when Sam’s away, so I haven’t seen him since Monday. Why? Nyalla are you in trouble?”
She couldn’t worry him. It’s not like Wyatt could do anything to help her right now. “No, Snip just needed something. If you see either of
them, can you have them call either Snip or Terrelle? Tell them it’s important.”
“Okay,” Wyatt sounded as if he didn’t quite believe her. “So I’ll see you in a few days? Are you going to wait around for the ID I’m sending and come back with…” papers rustled in the background, “with Christopher Edgely?”
She nearly laughed. So that was to be Gabriel’s alias. It was a sobering through that he might not get to use it.
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know. Thanks Wyatt. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hung up and turned to the two demons. “Terrelle, you stand guard over this angel. Snip, you need to somehow manage to get to Hel as quickly as you can and get Sam here.”
His eyes widened. “But Nyalla, there’s no gate here. I’ll need to fly home, then get an Uber or something to where the Columbia Mall used to be, then run all over Hel to find her.”
Good thing he had a plane ticket on the last flight out tonight. And good thing once he did find her, Sam could teleport the pair of them straight to Aruba. Nyalla got a feeling this rescue attempt wasn’t going to go as planned.
“Just bring Sam here. Terrelle, if either of them call, tell them to come. Don’t tell them about what I did to Gabriel, or that he’s even here, just tell them I’m in trouble.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t need them, but she didn’t want to spill the secret about Gabe prematurely, just in case she pulled this off after Snip had reached Sam.
“You’re not seriously thinking of going after him?” Terrelle exclaimed. “Let me, Nyalla. At least I’m a demon. You’re a human, and you don’t even have your wand or any other magical device.”
“I can’t just sit here and wait for days, hoping the rebels kept Gabriel alive long enough for Sam to get here. I need to try to help him.”
