by Debra Dunbar
“He’s not going to take your treasure.” I pointed to Little Red, who was unfortunately scooping up coins at that moment. The little dragon shot me a guilty look and quickly hid them behind his back. “Well, not much of your treasure. Come on, Sparky, I just need you to keep an eye on him for six months until you can take him back to DragonWorld with you.”
“No. And put those coins down right now,” Sparky snarled. By the red flames visible in the back of his throat I had a feeling the British Museum was seconds away from burning. Again.
“Okay, okay!” I stood between the two, giving Little Red a quick kick. He made a snuffling noise and I heard the sound of coins hitting the ground.
“I want him out of here. Now.” Sparky’s eyes narrowed. I recognized that glint in their black depths and knew his patience with me, and with Little Red, had ended.
“Come on, boy.” I turned toward the smaller dragon. “Guess you’re coming home with me.”
Chapter 8
Little Red shrieked once he realized that we were back at the scene of his crime. I was less interested in his panic-attack than in the fact that I had no idea where to put a six foot, red, juvenile dragon. He’d destroyed the half-finished guest house. I doubted the horses would tolerate his presence in the stable, even if he’d fit in there with the three of them, Dalmai and Bob. There was no way he was staying inside my house—stinky Boomer was more than enough. I looked at the copse of trees at the far edge of my pasture. Didn’t dragons live in trees? Or was that chickens? I think maybe dragons lived in caves, of which I had none on my property. The little wooded area probably wasn’t suitable. Besides, my neighbors would kill me. Although the thought of a dragon doing a flyby as they sipped their morning coffee was pretty funny.
Did werewolves like dragons? Most likely not.
There was only one other place I could think of that wasn’t halfway across the state. I pulled out my cell phone and called Wyatt.
“Can my dragon stay in your basement?” I asked before he’d even said hello. “He’s not as big as the one in the British Museum. It’s only for six months and if he gets out of line just turn the garden hose on him.”
There was a poignant silence from Wyatt’s end that seemed to stretch on for an eternity.
“Please?”
I heard him sigh. “No. You’ve seen my basement. I don’t know much about dragons, but I doubt he’ll be happy there, which means he’ll escape and be flying all over the state. Which means I’ll be chasing him down for you while you run off with Gregory. No. I’m done being your flunky, Sam.”
Of all the times for Wyatt to dig in his heels, this was the worst. “Please! I’ve got the shitty elf situation that’s a priority, and Aaru is in a state of war. I can’t haul a dragon around with me, and I’ve got nowhere at my place to keep him since he torched the guest house.”
Oops. Probably shouldn’t have told Wyatt that. I backpedaled as best as I could. “Not that it was totally his fault,” I lied. “He got some pollen, you know tree pollen, and coughed, and whoosh—the guest house went up in flames. Terrible accident. It will never happen again. Never.”
“No.”
I was getting really tired of hearing that word. “I can’t let him stay at my place, Wyatt. He’s scared of Nyalla. She blasted him with the hose and nearly drowned him. Wait ’til you see the little guy. He’s shiny red with big black eyes and the cutest little…claws. Just like a cat. You’ll never know he’s there.”
“No. Get Gregory to deal with it. He’s an archangel. He should be able to send it home, or maybe shrink it to a size where you could put it in a zoo or something.”
I was not putting Little Red in a zoo! How mean of Wyatt to even suggest such a thing.
“Are there caves nearby?” I asked, desperate for some alternative to zoo incarceration, or becoming a dragon babysitter for six months. “How about those Crystal Grotto things in Washington County? Or the Luray Caverns in Virginia?”
“Where your slightly-bigger-than-a-cat dragon can ‘accidently’ melt and smash million-year-old stalagmites? How about no?”
Damn. I was out of options. I hung up on Wyatt, knowing that he was right. I couldn’t just dump responsibility for Little Red on the human world. It seemed that for the next six months, he was my problem.
“Come on,” I told the wide-eyed dragon. “See that fence line over there? That’s the edge of my property. Don’t go past it. Sleep wherever you can cause the least amount of damage and panic. And for fuck sake, don’t make Nyalla spill her drink.”
I headed into the house, noticing that Little Red was following me. “Trees. Pasture. Anywhere but here,” I told him.
“I’m scared.”
And I had no time for this. I pulled out my phone to dial Gregory. “An hour max. After that you need to not be scared and be outside. You might be a baby, but you’re too big for this house and I’m at full capacity.”
He nodded, big eyed, and squeezed his way through the French doors, sniffing my furniture and trying to open the refrigerator.
Gregory was just as displeased about Little Red’s presence as I had been. The angel’s arrival had caused the dragon to hide under my hand-carved hickory dining table, knocking chairs over in an attempt to squeeze his body into the small space. He might be only six feet tall, but he was chubby and that tail of his took up some additional room, as did the lacy wings held tight to his back. I kept glancing over at him, fearing for my table, but he held still, watching Gregory with those puppy-like eyes.
Yes, I’d let him remain in the house in spite of vowing an hour ago not to do so. He was just a baby—a six foot tall fire-breathing baby, but still a baby. Besides, Boomer liked him and the Helhound really could use a friend beyond Nyalla.
“When I find out who did this, I’ll have his wings,” my angel snarled.
“Ixnay on the ingway,” I warned him as Little Red trembled, shaking my table with earthquake-like tremors. Boomer had vanished the moment Gregory arrived, abandoning his new friend. I was beginning to wish I’d hardened my heart and made the dragon stay outside. “I’m sure the angel responsible wants you to waste time going after him, and waste the energy to send this guy back. Let me deal with the dragon for the next six months. You concentrate on all the other shit, and this guy will eventually shake loose.”
Who was I counseling an archangel on patience? And acting as if I was a willing caregiver of a dragon?
Gregory sighed. “You’re right, I can’t spare the time or the energy with what’s going on in Aaru. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you with the elf problem as I’d promised either – at least not right now. I’m needed in Aaru for the foreseeable future, so I’ve put Raphael in charge of the Grigori while I’m gone.”
Like hell he was. Now it was my turn to get angry. “No, you’re not abandoning me or your Grigori! Gabriel has Aaru. You’re supposed to be here, helping the humans achieve one with whatever the fuck you guys have planned for them. Remember? That’s your job, not dumping your responsibilities to help your lame-ass worthless brother deal with the rebellion.”
“This is important,” Gregory insisted. “You can handle the elves on your own. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.”
“Not with all the other shit you fucking dickhead angels have piled on my shoulders. I’m too busy punishing those with sub-par credit, and mentoring the Nephilim and werewolves, and reforming Fallen Angels—thankfully of which there is only one right now. Oh, and managing issues in Hel. I’m not in charge of the humans. You are. The elves are a threat to the humans, thus they’re your problem, not mine.”
How did I get more on my to-do list then Gregory? How the fuck did that happen? All he had to do was sit on a mountaintop doing yoga or some shit like that, waving a benevolent hand over the humans below. Fuck that. I’ll be damned if he shoved this elven issue completely off onto my shoulders.
“You need to help me with the elf thing. It’s going to effect the evolutionary spiritual mum
bo-jumbo of the humans, and that’s your primary mission right now, not helping Gabe.”
“Were you not listening to me earlier? Gabriel can’t handle Aaru by himself,” he hissed. “Things aren’t stable there. It’s getting worse. Over half the angels are calling for an overthrow of the Ruling Council, a complete reversal of priorities. They feel we should abandon the humans to their fate, lock the doors of heaven and regain what they feel is our lost grace. Our vibration patterns have slipped, and they believe that all this outside influence from the physical world is to blame.”
“What do you think?” He’d left Aaru in his brother’s hands for me, lowered his vibration pattern for me, indulged in all sorts of sin—carnal and otherwise—for me. Was he now thinking he’d made a mistake?
He waved a hand in frustration. “I think sometimes you have to backtrack to move forward. Sometimes you need to realize that the path you’re on doesn’t lead to the destination you wanted. And that reaching divinity alone isn’t truly worth it unless you help others arrive too.”
It was a lovely statement, but I didn’t like the idea that I was the backtrack, or that I was just a stepping stone toward what the angels saw as their divine goals. Demons didn’t want that destination. Our divine was elsewhere. And I worried that all this meant our paths would diverge, and I’d once again walk alone.
I didn’t want to walk alone. I wanted this angel. And if that meant I had to do yoga on some fucking mountain, so be it. Well, as long as I didn’t have to do yoga all the time. Maybe I could throw spitballs down on the humans below occasionally. Just to break things up a bit.
Gregory pulled me close. I buried my face in the soft cotton of his polo shirt, felt his breath against my forehead, the warmth of his spirit-self against mine. He picked up a lock of my hair and rubbed it between his thumb and index finger in a motion that had become synonymous with his feelings for me. Yeah, I might wind up with my legs in a pretzel on a mountaintop, but right now it was Gregory who was making significant compromises for me.
“I love you,” I murmured into his shirt. “You do what you need to do, and I’ll deal. Keep Terrelle and Dar to help your Grigori—not that I could pry Dar away from Asta at this point.” Which reminded me. “Besides, he’s got the baby to help take care of now. I can’t exactly take him away from his newborn angel, can I?”
My statement had the exact impact I’d hoped for. Gregory’s eyes turned solid black, his teeth pointy like a piranha’s, his form more blurry and bright than usual.
“Newborn angel?” His words were softly spoken, but the mind-speak that accompanied them practically made my brain bleed.
“Yep. He and Asta have a beautiful little Angel of Order named Karrae. Dar is trying to get a dwarf over from Hel to help with childcare, but until then he and Asta are doing the tag-team parenting thing.”
“An angel. An Angel of Order.”
I finally took pity on the guy. “They both know this all needs to stay secret. No one knows but us, Leethu, and some human friend of Asta’s. They know what would happen if Karrae were found out, and they’re willing to take the risk.”
“Risk to them? Fine. That child didn’t sign on to take this risk.”
I threw up my hands. “I know, I know. I said the same thing. Which is pretty freaky, I’ve got to say. I’m not used to being the voice of reason. You’re a bad influence on me. I need to sin more before my wings turn white or something.”
Gregory sighed. “I guess even to a newly created angel, the risk of death is better than never being formed at all.”
I put a hand on his arm. “I agree. Again. Which needs to stop happening. I just wanted you to know about Karrae so if you need Asta for anything you can be mindful of her circumstances.”
There was more to it than that. I wanted him to know because if the word got out and the angels came gunning for the baby, Gregory could protect her. He would. I knew in my heart that this was what he wanted most—angels and demons coming together, life and creation once again—if not in Aaru, then here among the humans. A baby angel. The first in so very long.
“I wish they’d waited,” he grumbled.
I did too, but evidently not for the same reasons.
“I’d hoped we’d be the first.”
Huh? Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. The room spun. My vision blurred. I had to reach out a hand to steady myself against the wall.
“Who’d be the first?” I demanded after I’d gotten control of my physical form once more.
“Us. I wanted us to have created the first angelic offspring since the war.”
I get the whole competitive instinct thing, but I had no intention of babymaking. Ever. While I doubted that I’d accidently devour Gregory as I’d done my practice partner in childhood, I still didn’t want to do it. The responsibility of forming an offspring, providing for its upbringing…yikes.
“Oh,” I breathed, frantically trying to think of a suitable response. “Well, no rush now. Dar and Asta beat us to it, so there’s no hurry. We’ll parking lot that particular idea and revisit it in, oh, maybe a few millennia?”
He smiled, pulling me into his arms and playing with a strand of my hair again. “You’re right, Cockroach. It would be irresponsible to bring a new angel into the world with everything that is going on. We’ll wait.”
Whew.
I cleared my throat, trying to banish the images of babymaking from my mind. “So, back to the elven issue. I’ve got Nyalla, Nils, Bob the Elf and this dragon here to help me with any migrations that might occur in the next few days. I’ll manage.”
Gregory nodded. “You also have a household full of Lows, Leethu, a hellhound and a demon horse, loyal humans, Nephilim, werewolves and at least one vampire.” I felt his smile against the top of my head. “Wait. Who is Bob?”
A throat cleared from across the room and Gregory and I separated. Bob stood by the fireplace, wearing clean and dry clothing that looked oddly familiar. Nils. Well, at least he and the Fallen Angel could commiserate together. I was glad he’d begun to make friends in my household already, and with Nils as his buddy, the pair of them could stay as far away from Nyalla as possible.
Which made me think this elf might be of use after all. He might not be able to start fires with a point of his finger, but he was smart, and knew how to toe the line to stay reasonably close to my good side. Besides, if I wanted a fire, Little Red was right under my dining room table.
“This is Bob.” I waved a hand toward the elf.
“He’s a half-elf.”
Bob winced at Gregory’s observation. Evidently elves and angels could detect the human portion.
“Yes. And Bob has volunteered to be my spy. He has contacts in Hel that will alert him when groups are transporting and where they’re going to. I go snatch up the elves and take them back to Hel. Tada! No more elves.”
Gregory folded his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows. “You do realize that they’ll just keep coming back. Do you expect to spend the rest of your life catching elves and transporting them back to Hel?”
Everyone kept telling me this. “I don’t have a better idea. It’s not like you’d let me kill them, so the round-up-and-deport plan is the one I’m going with. Anyway, Bob is from Klee and in return for his help, he asks that the Klee elves be allowed to live here among the humans, co-exist peacefully.”
“No.”
Well, that was definitive. “Just the Klee elves. It’s not like I’m wanting all three hundred thousand. Klee is only five thousand elves max. They’ll blend in with the humans. No one will notice.”
Gregory sighed. “Someone will eventually notice, and then the other angels will find out. No. We can’t allow elves to live here. We can hide the presence of one or two, explain it away as a few who’d left Hel on their own. We won’t be able to hide an entire Kingdom of them.”
I shot a quick glance at Bob. “Okay, but Klee elves sometimes marry and have children with the humans in Hel. Their children have a right to b
e here. And their children’s children as well. And so on.”
The angel looked to my ceiling. I held my breath waiting for him to counter my argument.
“Okay.”
“Huh?” I couldn’t have heard that right.
“I agree, Cockroach. And that pains me as much as it pained you to agree with me earlier. If they are part human, than they have a right to be here. How I’m going to eventually explain that to the other angels, I don’t know, but they should have the opportunity to live among the humans if they choose.”
Bob and I both exhaled.
“But—” Gregory waved a stern finger in my face “—how are these half-elves going to co-exist among the humans? Give me some examples of how you intend to integrate them? Do they understand the languages and laws? Do they have abilities that will translate into careers here?”
I had no fucking idea. And how was this once again my problem?
Bob shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “We do know some human languages. The Klee have had gateways in areas that have brought us exposure to six different dialects. Elves have a gift for this sort of thing and we’ll easily learn. Plus we’ve been told that humans don’t know every language on their planet either. They know one or two and rely on magical devices and others’ knowledge to assist them in communicating.”
Gregory nodded, shifting his focus to the half-elf. “And jobs? Do you know how to buy a bus ticket? What to do if a man points a gun at you? What a gun even looks like?”
“We’ve heard many tales of human culture and life, but there will be a learning curve on our part.” Bob wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
The angel shook his head. “There has to be more. We can’t just place a few hundred half-elves here and expect them to get by with the small bit of knowledge and skills they have.”
