The Morning Star

by Debra Dunbar

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked, shooing away a Low who seemed intent on sticking his lollypop into my hair.

  Tasma shrugged. “I haven’t crossed the gates in over a thousand years, and honestly I have no real desire to do so, even to acquire a pair of angel wings. And I wasn’t particularly fond of the demon who wanted to partner with me. He has a reputation for not honoring his commitments. He’s a real nanny-boo-boo.”

  Nanny-boo-boo? The Lows repeated the word in hushed tones, then glanced around with a harsh alertness that let me know they’d not hesitate to swarm any nanny-boo-boos who dared enter the room.

  “Who is this nanny-boo-boo?”

  “You probably don’t know him. He’s one of those average, run-of-the-mill warmongers that hang out up in Eresh. Caramort.”

  That fire demon in Seattle had mentioned him, and soas had Snip. Seemed I was going to need to step up my efforts to locate this guy. I’d sent Gimlet on that mission, but I suspected I’d probably have to take this on myself if I wanted to see any progress on it before the end of the century.

  “Any angel wings?” I asked. “Was Caramort specific about which angels he was gunning for? Was the bounty greater for certain specific angels?”

  Tasma nodded, taking another drink of milk. “Caramort claimed he already had killed a few dozen incredibly inept angels who, unbelievably, were just clueless, strolling around the human world. He said it was like shooting fish in a barrel, but it had gotten to the point that there was no real status in nabbing those angels any more. Seems killing them was commonplace and so ridiculously easy that a Low could probably do it. He wanted to take on the more savvy angels, the higher-level ones. Even Grigori. It wasn’t just the increased bounty on them, it was the status in having killed an angel that actually posed somewhat of a challenge.”

  “Was Caramort going to target Grigori enforcers?” If so, it seemed like I’d found my man…or demon. But what about the transmutation? Or the weird Samuel-esque energy signature? Did Caramort have talents beyond that of a run-of-the-mill mid-level warmonger? And if so, why the heck would he need Tasma?

  The Ancient chuckled. “It would be suicide for a mid-level demon to try to take on a Grigori enforcer solo. Although I’ve met many demons who were predisposed to such a thing, Caramort did not strike me as one. That could be why he was attempting to enlist an Ancient to be his partner.”

  “Could you do it? Kill a Grigori enforcer? Transmute him?”

  “It would be an even match, and I’m afraid I would be at a disadvantage as they have kept their fighting skills honed, where I have spent my time in Hel concentrating on other matters. As far as transmutation…that is not my skill. I would seek to destroy the physical form in another way so that he could not create a new one in time.”

  Hmm. Caramort? Or Remiel? Or maybe both. Perhaps Remiel was behind this whole thing, and Caramort was just trying to add a few choice wings to his collection. Once I was done with Tasma, I’d need to see if Remiel was still in Hel for a quick meeting.

  “Who is offering the bounty?” I asked, hoping he didn’t say Samael.

  “We didn’t get that far in the conversation.” Tasma shook his head. “Caramort was cagey, no doubt worried that I’d ditch him and go straight to the source. Once I made it clear I wasn’t interested, he clammed up completely.”

  “Do you have any ideas who might be behind it? What Ancient has the power to take on Grigori enforcers, can transmute, and has enough of a grudge that he’d offer bounties on angel wings?” I asked him.

  He chuckled. “As far as the latter, any of us. Any of us who fought in the war, who suffered the banishment, is carrying around a grudge. I might not stick my neck out to hunt down enforcers on my own, but there are a few angels I’d probably pay to see dead.”

  “But who has a grudge against not only Grigori, but against the angels as a whole? That transmutes and has got enough power and influence to back this up?”

  “Remiel, Piersel, Bechar, Gediel, Asmodiel, oh and quite possibly Nebibos or Malphas. And maybe another dozen or so Ancients that I can’t think of off the top of my head.” He gave me an insipid smile. “The Ancients are all awake, and many are emboldened by Remiel’s success in retaking Aaru. They believe our time has come, that we can finally have our revenge for what happened two-and-a-half-million years ago.”

  Great. Basically it could be any of the Ancients, although my money right now was on Remiel. I’d try to see the Ancient, but if he wasn’t in Hel, then my next course of action would be to find this Caramort and beat the ever loving shit out of him until he told me who it was. But before I left Tasma, there was one more thing I wanted to know.

  “How about Samael?”

  He blinked, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What about him?”

  “You didn’t mention his name. I’m pretty sure he can transmute and kill a Grigori enforcer blindfolded. And he’s got a huge grudge against the entire angelic host.”

  “No one has heard a word about Samael since the fall.” Again, he shifted in his chair, turning his gaze toward one of the Lows. “We all assumed he was dead.”

  “Is there any Ancient that can fake his energy signature? Because there was an incident across the gates that had a calling card that bore a resemblance to Samael’s energy.”

  Tasma caught his breath. “I…I don’t know. I’m sure it’s possible. There have been many over the last two million years who have claimed to be Samael, but most of them were idiots just trying to get a band of demons to follow them. They’d last a few weeks until one of their household killed them, or a curious Ancient went to see what all the fuss was about and killed them.”

  “But an Ancient impersonating Samael?” I pressed. “Has that ever happened? Someone with the power and skill to pull it off?”

  He smiled. “Why would one of us do that? We have a reputation. We have status. The effort it would take to pull off such a hoax, especially with the other Ancients, would be enormous. And there’s no reason for it.”

  Unless they weren’t trying to fool other Ancients, just four archangels who had been living with a whole lot of guilt for two-and-a-half-million years.

  My thoughts began to stray the other way. Maybe this was Samael, who’d slumbered in spite of what Doriel had said, and who had suddenly awoken to see an opportunity for revenge before him. He wasn’t an idiot from what Gregory said. If he’d heard what Remiel had found, or not found, in Aaru, he must have known what happened to the angels, and that they’d be sitting ducks, in corporeal form in the human world.

  “So have you heard any rumors of Samael awakening and assembling an army? Do you think he could possibly be behind this bounty?”

  Tasma mused on that one for a minute, stroking one of his Lows’ furry back as he thought.

  “I haven’t heard any rumors, but the scenario is plausible. If Samael was alive, I’m sure revenge would be at the top of his agenda.”

  “But then why wouldn’t he gather the Ancients who were in his army before? Why put out a bounty and pull together a gang of mid-level demons? Why not announce to all of Hel that he was back and ready for action?”

  And why not take his sword back? I felt the weapon nearby, at the ready for me, and I had the impression that this sword didn’t serve two masters. But what did I know? I’d not had the thing in my possession for very long.

  Tasma met my gaze for a moment. “We lost the war. We failed him. If he hasn’t contacted any of us since the fall, there’s probably a good reason why.”

  Ouch. But was Samael’s ego so overblown that he seriously thought he could wipe out the angels and take the human world without the help of anyone but a group of mid-level demons? Unless his goal wasn’t the annihilation of the entire angelic host.

  Maybe it was the annihilation of his siblings. And what better way to throw them off balance and draw them in than picking off lesser angels and Grigori, leaving little unsettling hints of his return?

  “Thank you,” I told
Tasma as I rose. “I appreciate your taking the time to see me.” I was the Iblis and he was supposed to see me whenever I demanded, but still it was good to be polite. Especially since I didn’t have all that much support here in Hel.

  “There’s something you should know.” Tasma turned to the Lows and shooed them out the door, waiting a few minutes to ensure they were out of earshot before continuing. “I had a visit from Remiel today.”

  I hesitated, anxiously awaiting what he had to say. Was Remiel partnered with Samael on this? Or was he the one behind the whole thing?

  “He was asking about the angel infant he’d left with me.”

  The air left my lungs. “What…what did he want with it?”

  “He wanted to know if I had killed the child per his instructions, because he’d changed his mind. He said he wanted it back.”

  I struggled to breathe. “He wants it back?”

  Tasma shot me a curious look. “Yes. When he first returned, he went looking for that angel he’d created with and was very upset to find out he’d been killed. A few demons lost their lives over that.”

  Once Remiel had found that Bencul couldn’t enter Aaru, he’d abandoned him in Hel. Ditched him with the demon equivalent of a Dear John letter. Bencul probably could have remained safely in Remiel’s household for a while, but it was only a matter of time before someone assumed the angel was up for grabs and snatched him for their own plaything. He’d died soon after Remiel tossed him to the side, killed trying to find their angel offspring.

  And I’d promised Bencul as he died that I’d take care of Lux. Taking care of Lux didn’t mean handing him over to a demon who most likely didn’t have the angel’s best interests at heart.

  “When he found his angel-toy had been killed, he came straight here, looking for his offspring. He was quite relieved that I hadn’t killed it.”

  Fuck. Why couldn’t Tasma have just lied and say he’d done as told? Demons lied all the time. Ancients lied all the time. But this one time, when I really wanted one to lie, he fucking told the truth.

  “What exactly did you tell Remiel you did with the baby?” I envisioned me being ambushed, having to fight my way out of Hel. Me fending off hit squads like I’d had to do with Haagenti, trying to keep Lux safe and out of his demon parent’s hands. I needed a united Hel behind me. I needed as many Ancients on my side as possible. This was not the time for a blood-feud over a baby angel.

  There was one simple solution to this. And it was a solution I wouldn’t ever consider.

  “I told him that I gave it to you.”

  Fuck. “And how did he take that news? What did he do?”

  “As I said, he was relieved that I hadn’t killed the infant. When I said you had it, he seemed pleased, saying that if you had it, then the baby would still be alive. He said that was splendid, and that he was going to make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

  I immediately thought of that movie and the horse-head-under-the-bloodsoaked-sheets scene.

  “Why didn’t you lie?” This whole thing was a nightmare. I wanted to kill Tasma out of frustration right now, but I needed him. He might be an idiot, and a real weirdo, but he was still and Ancient. I needed everyone I could get on my side right now, even weirdo idiots.

  “It’s commonly known that you took Bencul in after Remiel went to Aaru, that you went looking for him and punished the demons responsible for his death. It’s not exactly a mental leap to think you’d come to ensure the baby’s safety if you cared enough for the angel that sired it to avenge his death. Plus the word of an angel in one of your houses was bound to eventually leak out. It was just a matter of time before Remiel found out.” Tasma shrugged. “This way you’ll make some money, or have Remiel owe you a favor and not have to safeguard some angel baby that will become a very coveted toy in a century or so.”

  A demon would gladly hand over the troublesome infant in return for a favor from a powerful Ancient. A demon wouldn’t think twice about it. This was the way things went in Hel. Someone else’s creation? Let it die unless it had value, and if it had value, sell or trade it to whoever gave you the best price. We were demons. It’s what we did. Two years ago, it’s what I would have done.

  But things had changed. I’d changed.

  “So I guess Remiel is looking for me?” I sure as fuck wasn’t going to be looking for him. Screw going to talk to the Ancient about whether he was behind the enforcer deaths. Right now I planned on avoiding the guy as long as I could.

  Tasma nodded. “I wanted you to know so you had time to decide how you wanted to negotiate the deal. Remiel’s a powerful ally. This could make a huge difference to how you’re perceived in Hel. His including you in the bid for Aaru, and his respect of you during the planning and the advance brought you a lot of notice. If he publicly acknowledges you as the Iblis, vows that he and his household give you their unequivocal support then, outside of a few stupid dissenters, Hel will be yours. He wants this baby bad enough that you could ask for that in exchange for the angel and you’d get it.”

  Tasma sat back, a smug look on his face. He’d given me a head’s up. In his mind, he’d given me the key to my rule of Hel. It was all within my grasp.

  Except it wasn’t.

  “I’ve got an early morning Ruling Council meeting and a few other urgent things to attend to,” I told the Ancient. “I’ll have to speak with Remiel later.”

  He nodded approvingly. “That’s a good strategy. Don’t seem so eager. Let him come to you and hold out for what you really want.”

  “Do you think he’ll try to forcibly take the angel from my home?” From what Tasma had said, he’d implied that I’d kept Lux in Hel. That could work to my advantage, but I didn’t want any of my Lows still residing in Hel to be in danger.

  “Oh no. Such an action would make him look weak and unstable. He’s an Ancient. He’ll approach you and negotiate in good faith before he does anything so drastic.”

  But when I refused to hand over Lux, things would get ugly. Damn it, the timing of this couldn’t have been worse. My mind whirled, calculating how long I could stall, what safeguards I could put in place to keep my Lows and allies in Hel from being caught in the middle of what was most likely going to turn into a huge war. Much like Haagenti had done, Remiel would harass my household in Hel, and send others to attack me and attempt to kidnap Lux on the other side of the gates.

  As if I didn’t have enough shit to deal with, now I was going to be reliving that Haagenti nightmare. Fuck this déjà vu. Fuck it.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I told Tasma. “And if you hear anything about Samael, or get wind of who is behind this bounty on angel wings, please let me know immediately. I’ll be very grateful.

  Tasma stood and bowed. “I will Iblis.”

  And he would, because not only had he pledged his household under mine, but in his eyes I was about to become very, very powerful by exchanging an angel baby for Remiel’s support. And if my reputation took off, so would my allies’.

  Little did Tasma know that instead of being affiliated with a rising star, he was tied to one that was about to crash and burn.

  Chapter 9

  It was astonishing how these hotel conference rooms all looked identical. Same rust–-colored, brocade-patterned carpet. Same beige wallpaper. Same cheap plaster crown molding and clunky brass light fixtures that looked to be the ugly bastard child of a chandelier and a seventies minimalist lamp. Add in the stale coffee and pastries and I could have been anywhere. As Gabe’s voice droned on, I began to wonder if they weren’t really the same space, all accessed through interdimensional portals in hotels throughout the human world. It made about as much sense as whatever shit Gabe was saying.

  “Am I late? I’m late, aren’t I?”

  The voice jerked me out of my musings. It completely silenced Gabe, whose sentence ended in a garbled gasp. It caused all the angels in the room to look as if they’d been struck by a freeze-ray. Nyalla, the only one unaffected, turned to the
newcomer with a smile.

  “Oh!” She got that distant expression that meant she was looking into someone’s heart. “Uriel, right? I’ve been keeping your seat warm for you.” With a mischievous smile, the girl stood and gestured toward the chair.

  “Thank you, dear. A human on the Ruling Council? And a second Angel of Chaos? My, how enlightened my brothers have become in my absence.” She patted the bright red hair she had knotted into a tidy bun and lowered herself into the chair, her eyes scanning the papers with unworldly speed. “Please pull up another chair, dear. What is your name? My first act is to put forth a motion that the human be allowed to remain on the council as an advisor. It’s important for them to have a voice in these matters, don’t you agree?”

  While her brothers were recovering from their shock, I eyed the angel. I wasn’t the only one. Asta, of course, knew Uriel, although she’d probably not had much up-close contact with the archangel, but Ahia had never met her before. The Angel of Chaos was taking in every inch of the newcomer from her surprisingly youthful appearance to her tattered jeans, silky tank top, and gauzy scarf. It was as if the somewhat matronly Uriel of old had been fused with a young, edgy, really fucking hot version of herself.

  I kinda dug it. If Gregory hadn’t been such a jealous monogamous asshole, I’d totally be trying to hit that.

  “Everyone in favor of the human continuing to serve as an advisor and potential tie breaker if necessary?”

  Uriel raised her hand in a motion that looked as if she were about to perform the royal wave. Nyalla’s hand shot up, although technically she didn’t have a vote at this point. I raised my hand, and so did Ahia. No surprise there. The two had become rather close. Asta gave a long, appreciative glance at Nyalla’s adorable, designer cross-body bag, then raised her hand as well.