Far From Center: An Imp World Novel

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Far From Center: An Imp World Novel Page 20

by Debra Dunbar


  Clearly the banishment had meant the prison doors were open, and traitors like Sidriel were free to walk the streets. As personal as Tura’s betrayal had been, Sidriel’s was on a much larger scale. He’d forsworn the oath he’d taken when he was assigned the post on the Ruling Council. He’d not just betrayed Gabriel, he’d betrayed the entire Council. He’d betrayed Gabe’s siblings.

  And it could be no coincidence that in all the places in the world, Sidriel was walking around a tiny Caribbean island — the same island as Tura.

  “Pull over. I’ll get out here,” Gabe told the driver. Handing the man what must have been an excessive amount of money for the short ride, Gabe hopped out and weaved through the tourists, trying to keep Sidriel in sight without trailing the angel so closely that he was recognized.

  Yes, he was human, but it seemed his angelic powers were beginning to return. If Terrelle had been able to recognize him by his physical appearance, there was a chance that Sidriel could as well. And there was a chance that the angel might catch a hint of his faint angelic energy and realize that the archangel was nearby.

  Normally he’d be confident in his ability to prevail against the other angel, but not now. Not when he could barely even heal. Not when he was still so embedded in this physical form with all of its vulnerabilities. So Gabe held back, following as the angel as he headed away from the port and into a downtown casino. There he almost lost Sidriel amid the maze of slot machines and table games.

  Seeing the angel slip out a back door, Gabe ran, pushing past a few gamblers carrying cups of coin and made it out the door in time to see Sidriel turn a corner into an alley.

  He hesitated, weighing the chance of being trapped and confronted with the chance that he might lose the angel. Slowly he made his way forward, making sure that no one was coming out of the casino behind him or lurking behind the dumpster.

  What was Sidriel’s part in this? Was Tura the leader in all this, or the former member of the Ruling Council? After the battle over the breeding box, Sidriel had been isolated for his punishment. There could have been no contact between the two from that point. In fact, Gabe was sure that Sidriel had been unaware of the continued rebellion, unaware of any external event until they’d all been banished.

  How had he been able to so quickly get in touch with Tura after the fall? Gabe felt a heaviness in his midsection as he considered that the angel’s isolation might have been compromised. Over half the angels in Aaru had taken the side of the rebels. It was entirely possible that someone had facilitated contact with Sidriel. It was entirely possible that in spite of his imprisonment, Sidriel had been continuing his part in the rebellion behind the scenes.

  Traitor. Deceiver.

  Gabe edged slowly forward, peered around the corner and came face-to-face with the angel.

  “By the creator you walk slow. I was beginning to think you were afraid to confront me and had turned tail and run back to the casino to call your brothers for assistance.” Sidriel eyed him, then gave him a cool nod. “I can’t say that it’s a pleasure to see you, Gabriel. Although I wasn’t sure it was truly you there for a while. I don’t know how you’re hiding your energy or grace, but that human form is most convincing. You even covered yourself with the stench of human physical intercourse to throw us off the trail. I never would have suspected if I hadn’t watched you heal that Low demon. Even that was subtle — heal just enough so that he didn’t die, but leave him with several significant physical wounds. Brilliant. I personally would have let him die and not risked revealing myself over a worthless Low, but you always did have a weak spot for the scrawny ones.”

  Gabe stepped into the alley. Sidriel thought he was still in full possession of his powers. Which meant he could possibly survive this encounter. All he had to do was declare some sort of peace with the angel and walk away, wash his hands of the whole matter. Of course then he’d be sworn to neutrality, and that was something Gabe could never do, especially when this situation involved the rebellion and two traitors who’d played a significant part in it.

  “He was just a Low. Why would you torture him like that?” Gabe kept his voice calm. Hoping there was still some way he could get out of this without compromising his ethics or winding up dead.

  “Because I could tell he was the weak spot of your group. Well, him and that human girl who everyone would readily give their life for. I would have grabbed her, but you never left her side, and in spite of thinking you a human at first, there was something about you that gave me pause. I initially believed you were a sorcerer. I never suspected the mighty archangel Gabriel would interest himself in such minor matters as a bit of commerce between two demons. Perhaps your elder brother commanded you to look into it since he’s already damned though his disgusting relationship with that imp.”

  “Michael knows nothing of this. I came on my own, and am just as surprised to see you bothering to sully yourself with such a despicable project as the theft and sale of an artifact. Greed, Sidriel?”

  “No, although greed for power might be a minor sin of mine.” The angel took a few steps closer to Gabriel, eyeing him warily. “There’s another reason I tortured that Low. I’m sure he was too embarrassed to tell you, but he happily gives up his secrets under pain. Quite lovely how he begs and divulges everything from what his Mistress has planned, down to what you all intend to do with the Tear.” His eyes narrowed. “I’d figured that stupid imp would activate it and kill the archangels off in one instant. I never expected that she was so devious and intelligent to have planned what she did.”

  Gabe had no idea what Sidriel was talking about. Did the Iblis have something in mind for the Tear? Was the complicated heist Terrelle was planning going to end with Gabe in possession of the fake, and the real artifact going to the Iblis? Or had Sidriel underestimated the Low? Did Snip manage to keep himself together enough to concoct a wild tale for the angel under the pain of torture?

  “I’ll deal with our Gormand friend later, but I’m glad he gave your friends a fake now that I know what the Iblis intended. But you knew it was a fake too, didn’t you?” He took another step forward. “Doubling back to get the Tear on your own, Gabriel? I’m sure your youngest brother told you how to activate it before the war took him from your side. Exactly who do you intend to use it on?”

  Gabe suddenly saw a way out. He’d just need to be careful not to find himself having to refuse an oath of allegiance. “Let’s just say we’re not quite a different as you might think, Sidriel.”

  The angel’s eyebrows shot up. “Making a move after all these billions of years? I can believe that you’re tired of seeing all of your hard work unraveled by those wretched sinful siblings of yours, Gabriel, but if you truly were on our side, then why wait until now?”

  “Because three against one makes for very poor odds, even with a group of rebels at your back,” he answered. “Samael’s gone. Uriel’s off doing penance for who knows how long. Michael is weakened by his relationship with that imp. And it’s not like Raphael was ever a threat. He’s barely able to even hold his own choir together. I’m not a fool. I’m patient enough to wait until I’m assured of success before I make such a move.”

  This was so hard for him to do. In spite of billions of years navigating the convoluted politics of Aaru, he hated the subterfuge. He hated having to be two-faced. Terrelle had complimented him on his synchronicity between the angel on the inside and on the outside, but this was one of those times when it was important to hide his true self and lie.

  He only hoped that Sidriel believed him.

  “I don’t fault you for waiting, Gabriel, but I do doubt your loyalty. The last battle we were winning, yet you still didn’t switch sides.”

  “It wasn’t as if I had time to do so,” Gabe commented dryly. “Not when my eldest brother jumped the gun and performed a banishment.”

  Sidriel’s face twisted in anger. “It shouldn’t have worked. We had the advantage at the time of the banishment. If anything, you archangels
should have been the ones who fell.”

  Hopefully he’d never realize that the archangels, as well as their allies had fallen. They all had fallen.

  “But Michael has the sword, and the Iblis has its match. Together, the pair of them are near invincible.”

  Sidriel snorted. “Right. She’s an imp with a household full of Lows. A monkey with a banana is more of a threat than she is. I have no idea why the sword chose…”

  An odd look came over the angel’s face. Oh no.

  “We have much in common,” Gabriel rushed to say. “But Job’s Tear? Sidriel, it’s a cursed object. There are better ways to accomplish a goal — ways that don’t result in a disastrously compromised vibration pattern.”

  “I’m not cursing anyone,” Sidriel replied. “I’m simply releasing an object into the world and standing back while a fool of an imp seals her own doom.”

  Gabe also took a step forward, putting him within two feet of the other angel. “Sidriel, we both know what’s best for Aaru. But this is assassination, and that isn’t something an Angel of Order should even contemplate. We’re not demons.”

  “No, we’re not. But sometimes we need to act like them to ensure we’ll keep Aaru safe from them forever. I’d always respected you, Gabriel. You were the only one of your siblings that understood how important it was to safeguard our purity. We need to clean house, remove those from Aaru who would see our home tainted with sin. The time is now, Gabriel. Join us. With you, we can return home and make Aaru a place for the divine.”

  Sidriel saw him as a key to a locked door. The sword that banished needed to reverse the sentence, but in the past an archangel or an extremely powerful being could force the door open and allow the banished to return. That was one of the reasons he’d always assumed Samael to be dead. As an archangel, he could defy the banishment and bring an army to fight Aaru, but in almost three million years, he’d not done so. He’d done nothing. And Gabe was willing to believe there were plenty of ancients in Hel just waiting for someone to let them in.

  The Iblis had oddly always been able to enter Aaru, and her ability to gate in a small battalion of demons should have let Sidriel know there was more to the imp than he wanted to believe. But the angel was right. If this had been a traditional banishment, Gabe could have unlocked the door and let all the rebels return. But they were all banished. And there was no key for reentry.

  “The timing isn’t right,” he argued, trying to keep from being boxed into a corner on this issue and revealing his weakness. “I need to judge the level of commitment in Aaru to the other archangels and decide the best course. To rush a change is to risk plunging us all into chaos.”

  It was a good speech. But it wasn’t good enough.

  “No, the time for careful evaluation is past. You need to make a choice Gabriel, and I’m shocked that you even need to stop and consider this. Those other angels, the ones who do not believe in the sacred path, the only path that leads us forward, should be condemned to Hel with their brethren.”

  “Where do you draw the line, Sidriel? Tura broke with the treaty. Other angels have flouted our established and vetted policies and procedures to willfully break the rules that make Aaru a place of serenity and order. Even you are straying far from the path by employing the Tear to achieve your goals. The end does not justify the means. We are Order, and Order we must remain.”

  “We will, once we remove the dreck and cleanse Aaru of all the impure. Then those of us who have reluctantly strayed will return to our straight, pious pathway. The end most definitely justifies the means. And if that results in Aaru under the guidance of as few as fifty angels, so be it.”

  Gabe shuddered at the thought. He’d spent his life in pursuit of the pure and the divine, but he’d never betray his family to achieve that. And if the last two days had taught him anything, it was that the divine could be found outside of Aaru. In fact, the divine could be found in very unexpected places.

  And unfortunately, Sidriel was pushing him to make a choice — and for Gabriel, there was only one side to be on in this rebellion.

  “I do not accept that. There’s room in Aaru for all of us and I refuse to believe those who stray are forever lost or incapable of redemption. To believe otherwise would make me less of an Angel of Order.

  Gabe felt the rise of energy and could do nothing but brace himself, but the attack never came. Sidriel’s eyebrows rose. The angel shook his head. “You’re not even going to defend yourself? Not even going to launch a preemptive strike? Is this a ‘turn the other cheek’ thing? Or are you so cocky that you think you can take me down without lifting a feather?”

  It was neither. Gabriel was very aware that he was vulnerable, that he needed to do the very human method of bluffing his way out of this.

  “I have no desire to engage in an unseemly brawl with you in an alley next to a dumpster.” He turned and calmly strode back toward the casino. “Right now neither of us possesses the Job’s Tear. The Gormand has passed off a fake to the Iblis’ household, keeping the true artifact himself. I suggest we concentrate on retrieving it before that unsavory Gormand sells it to an ancient who will use it to wipe us both out.”

  A flash of light shot past Gabriel, blowing a hole in the dumpster. He stopped and tried to summon…anything. He’d managed to pull enough power together to heal Snip, to fix a book, but now he was simply a human with no angelic power whatsoever. It chilled him to realize that the next shot might not be a warning one, and it might kill him.

  Sidriel appeared before him. “You have it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be walking out of here without a fight. You’re not worried about me getting to the Tear or the Gormand, because you’ve already got it.”

  Gabe went to push past the angel and felt more than hands on his shoulders. Sidriel’s eyes widened.

  “By all that’s holy…You’re not shielding, you’re empty. You’re human.” Sidriel let go of his and jumped back, as if he were concerned that Gabriel’s condition was contagious. “What happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Once more he tried to push past Sidriel. The angel grabbed him again, this time gripping him hard enough to cause bruises.

  “No, you’re right. It doesn’t matter. But it does give me an idea. You’ll be useful. And you’re coming with me.”

  Gabe swung his fist, punching the angel in the face. It seemed to hurt his hand more than it hurt the angel, but it did surprise Sidriel enough that he loosened his grip. Gabe wrenched himself free, then ran, throwing open the door to the casino and plowing head-first into yet another angel.

  He looked down and saw Tura’s gleeful smile. “Well hello, Exalted One. So glad you’ve agreed to assist us in this little project. You’ll be very useful.

  Gabe twisted, attempting to get around the angel and vanish into the casino, but Tura had him firmly in his grasp. Turning, he came face-to-face with Sidriel. He was trapped between the them, and as a human, he had no way of defending himself against two powerful angels.

  Chapter 24

  It was surprisingly easy to change their tickets at the gate then hide out in the terminal until the plane left. Snip kept watch and gave them the go-ahead once the skinny demon headed out — which was pretty much the moment the plane backed up from the jetway.

  They met Terrelle’s friend, Marco, at the Hyatt near the ornamental pool with the black swans. Over champagne, egg salad sandwiches, and gigantic chef salads, the man recounted how stupidly easy it had been to steal the Tear, swap it for one of Terrelle’s fakes, then slide the box back into the Gormand’s pocket, all while the demon was bartering with one of Marco’s friends for a stolen designer watch.

  Terrelle examined the Tear, and proclaimed it to either be the best fake she’d ever seen or the original artifact. Then she pocketed it, saying with a shudder that it made her skin crawl.

  It was all so easy. Too easy. But maybe sometimes things were meant to be easy, so Nyalla texted Gabriel to let him know that they had the Tear and would take the l
ast plane back home tonight.

  Well, Snip and Terrelle would. She’d stay here until Gabe got his forged identification, then return with him. The only trick would be for the two demons to stay hidden until they were truly off the island, and for Nyalla to hold back from seeing Gabe until the Tear was safely out of the Gormand’s hands. With any luck, he would be back in Hel before he realized the deception. And then she’d only have to worry about how to tell Sam about the Tear and how to keep Gabe’s condition hidden until he was fully recovered.

  “Can I have a fifty?” Terrelle asked Nyalla.

  She rolled her eyes and pulled the money out of her wallet. “Use a condom, and leave the Tear with me just in case your sexual partner decides to steal it back.”

  Terrelle nodded and took the folded money, passing Nyalla the box. It did feel different than the others even through the velvet-covered cardboard. There was something harsh and cold about the bead. Nyalla closed her eyes, trying to use her gift, but the object wasn’t sentient and the only impressions she received were from her friends and the humans around them.

  And one more demon. She took a calming breath and pushed harder, honing in on the intentions and emotions. Terrelle was brimming with lust. Marco with greed and mild anticipation. Snip was bored and planning mischief. There were drunk humans, sunburned humans, humans worried about looking fat in their swimsuits or how much they’d lost at poker last night. The demon was patient, watchful and absolutely unconcerned if any of them — humans or demons — had to die to get what he wanted.

  Under the table she pulled the Tear from the box, pocketing it and sliding the box back on the table. “Watch this,” she told Terrelle. “I’m going to feed my bread crusts to the swans.”

  Keeping her movements easy and casual, Nyalla stood and walked over to the ornamental pond with its little waterfall and lily pads, then tossed in a few bread crumbs. The swans raced over like sharks, gobbling up the crumbs. She dropped a few more in watching as all four swans began snatching the bread, eager to swallow the treat before another had a chance to grab it. It was so easy to drop the small, creamy-white seed in with the crumbs. After she’d scattered the last of the bread, she wiped her hands and headed back to the table, pocketing the empty box and signing the bill.

 

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