by Debra Dunbar
“So what about the other one? How did he come into contact with a devouring spirit?”
“No idea.”
“Well then, what do you know?” Gabriel snapped. “Did any humans witness the murder? Were they murdered by the devouring spirit, too? Did they just vanish from the face of the planet?”
“The Iblis claims there are wild gates. If so, vanishing is a possibility.”
Gabriel gave a short bark of laughter. “The Iblis also claims that her hellhound eats her four-nine-five reports. She’s a demon. She lies.”
The older angel shrugged, clearly declining to comment further. Gabriel let the silence stretch on past the point of comfort, staring at his brother as if he could force him to provide the answers, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Fine,” the younger angel sighed. He wasn’t done with this one. If he had to walk among the humans and investigate himself, he’d do it. He’d hate it, but he’d do it.
The gate shimmered slightly, and the pair tensed, ready to leap, but nothing came through. A few seconds later it returned to its dormant state.
“Defective?” Gabriel asked. He’d never really bothered much with the gates. It’s not like he expected any of the elves to come through. Maybe in a few million more years, as newer generations forgot the past and became interested. They’d always been curious, willing students sitting at the angels’ wings. Such a shame things had gone so wrong during the wars that the elves had chosen Hel. They’d be back, though—of this, he was certain.
“No. The elder angel motioned toward the gate. “Young demons test to see if their skills are developed enough to activate a passage, or older demons trigger for a quick look to better strategize a crossing. When they come through, they’re swift, and they often employ distraction techniques.”
Gabriel looked around him, his brother’s voice fading into a monotone drone as it always did when he went on these dull lectures. Gates weren’t his problem. He didn’t care.
“Have you seen Uriel lately?” he interrupted.
Disapproval flowed in waves from his brother. Yes, Gabriel was rude and insubordinate. Nothing new there. “Not since the last Council meeting. Is he well?”
Gabriel snorted in disgust. “She. She insists on maintaining this ridiculous female appearance. It’s unseemly and not centered.”
A low chuckle burst from the older angel. “I thought that was just for the meetings, to show how strong he was against the unbalancing influence of the Iblis.”
“Evidently not. She says she feels like being female for a while. I’m concerned for her evolutionary path.”
His brother rolled his eyes. Rolled his eyes! Where in the universe had he gotten that mannerism?
“I’m serious. She suffered greatly when Samael di… when we lost Samael.”
“We all did.” The elder angel’s voice was raw with pain, as if it had just happened yesterday and not over two million years ago.
“Yes, but she also lost her only child. A brother, a life partner, and a child. I fear for her. She’s not stable, and now she has this bizarre insistence on being female.”
“You’re often female. So is Rafi. I would be, too, if I could.”
True. Gabriel used to switch often, but lately he’d felt the rightness of a male form. And although his eldest brother had always been male, he was more extreme than usual. Far more. His entire center had shifted drastically. It was that imp.
“So what happened to our Iblis? She’s surely repaired herself enough that she can return from Hel and resume her duties. Her reports are long overdue.”
Gabriel didn’t think it was possible for his brother to look that way. Fury and agony. Sorrow and fear. Gabriel had felt the very foundations of Aaru shake with his brother’s emotion when he’d appeared with their Iblis half-dead in his arms. It brought back memories that frightened him, of his brother with tattered wings, the blood of Samael coating his sword. “I mean no disrespect, dear brother,” he added softly, feeling as if he were suddenly treading over ground laced with landmines.
“Yes you do. You cannot stand to see me happy when your insides rot and fester. She is hurt. Gravely hurt and possibly dead. And if you speak of her with that flippant tone again, you will be the one to feel my sword.”
Gabriel took a sharp breath. For all their differences, for all the animosity burning like a slow fire inside him, he did love his brother. And he never would have wished this kind of pain on him, not again, not after Samael. They’d all grieved, but the eldest of the five had gone deep into the pit of his sorrow. So deep, none of them thought he’d ever make it out again. To lose his little imp after all he’d been through…. It was cruel for the strongest among them to be tested so.
“I deeply regret my words, and my tone. Is there a way you can find out if she’s alive? If she’s repairing herself? Can I assist in any way?”
Not that he could. None of them could cross the gates to Hel. The demons were chaos incarnate; they could break the treaty without any moral pain. Angels of Order were not so flexible—especially the ancient ones.
“Her human toy has her communication mirror. He is in touch with her household, but they have heard nothing of her. Nothing.”
Gabriel shuddered, feeling his brother’s pain, accepting a share of it as a sibling should. “But you are bound. The pair of you. You should know if she did not survive.”
The older angel shook his head, turning away from the gate. “I had to banish her. The bond is broken.”
Gabriel frowned in confusion. “But the bond was two ways. She carries part of your essence. You should know.”
“I don’t,” he hissed. “I had to break my connection, to sever that part of myself. I can’t feel her.”
The last words were raw with agony.
“Why?” Gabriel asked. “There was no need to sever her side of the binding to banish her. And you needn’t fear she would take advantage of you. She may be a demon, but you are far more powerful and could easily resist.”
His brother shook his head, looking toward the lighted panels that made up the ceiling of the mall. “She may need that portion of me. It was my gift to her—a gift of love. I only hope she realizes and uses it if she needs.”
Gabriel felt ice run though him as he stared in shock at his brother. “What… what are you talking about?” A demon could not “use” angel essence for anything but breeding, could not use it to repair themselves or heal injuries. Unless… unless they were the very worst abomination.
“She devours, Gabriel.”
He caught his breath. The elder angel’s tone was accepting with an odd fondness as though he were discussing a strange quirk. “But you cannot allow her to live! What if she brings about the apocalypse? Your job is to stop that from happening.”
“Perhaps my job is to allow that to happen. All things begin and all things end. Hopefully not today, but I’m coming to realize that as powerful as we think we are, there are forces and rhythms we can never overcome.”
Gabriel stared. “What is wrong with you? What happened to you?”
His brother’s mouth twisted into a wry half-smile. “I met an imp, and everything changed.”
The universe was truly doomed. The Angel of the Apocalypse, the Angel of Eternity had fallen in love with a devouring spirit. They were all doomed.
14
A few hours after Taullian left, lunch arrived. At least I think it was lunch. I was having a hard time telling the time of day. I sighed, eyeing the medium-rare slab of roast, surrounded by colorful vegetables and half a loaf of crusty bread. It looked good, but what I wouldn’t give for a dozen jalapeño bites and a cold beer. As I dug in, I turned my thoughts from the humans to what I needed to do to not only gain my freedom, but prevent Feille from taking the demon section of Hel.
Taullian had said he might be able to send me into Feille’s personal quarters, but I knew he couldn’t guarantee the elf lord would be there at the time. I’d need to stay low and play a waiting game until th
e opportunity presented itself to make my move. Patience was always a weak spot for me, and remaining undetected would be a serious challenge given my present state of brokenness. Normally, I’d change myself into a small, unobtrusive insect and lay in wait, but I was unable to alter anything about my form. I only hoped there were enough tapestries and wardrobes to hide in or I’d be right back where I started—battered and bleeding in Feille’s dungeon. Or more likely, dead. I couldn’t fix myself and I couldn’t defend myself. An elven child could probably take me down right now.
Then there were my doubts about this new relay technology. Kirby had been using it with no ill effects, and the elf lord assured it was stealthy, but this would be the first time it was ever tested to Taullian’s knowledge. Wythyn might have some kind of alarm system that would be set off by the activation of a magical gate, especially one within the royal chambers. Plus, Taullian was trusting that one of his sorcerers would be able to place it in the private areas, but he had no way of knowing exactly where or if it had been accomplished. For all I knew, I’d be transported into a garbage bin, or the middle of a party.
I ate and entertained myself thinking of all the inappropriate places I could find myself. Most amusing would be popping in on Feille when he was getting busy with some lady friend. Or maybe male friend. I’d never watched elves fucking before. Might be worth delaying the assassination to observe a little.
I was pushing the plate aside and getting ready for a nap when I heard an explosion. It sounded fairly close, and even through the thick dungeon walls and doors I could hear the flurry of activity. A rat ran by my cell, only to pause and turn, his red eyes shining with an unholy light. Even before the rat vanished and he stood before me in the form he’d worn all our childhood, I knew him. I’d always know him, no matter what shape he took.
“Dar! What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Rescuing your ass. What does it look like I’m doing?”
Oh no, this was all wrong. I’d needed to convince Taullian to accept my deal. I needed to take out Feille before he attacked, and this plan was the best chance I had to gain access to him. This was the most untimely rescue ever.
“No Dar. I need to stay. I appreciate this, really I do, but there’s something I have to do here.”
“We can discuss this later. Come on, we’ve got to hurry.” He reached forward with clawed hands to open the gate and squealed, leaping backward.
“Dumbass,” I told him affectionately. “Do you seriously think they’d keep a demon in a regular old cell? Now get out of here. If I’m not back in a few more weeks, then you can come rescue me.”
“They’re coming. We’ve got to go right now.” His voice sounded harsh through his furred, fanged snout.
He raised his hands. Before I could stop him, he blasted the cell door open with a surge of energy. Magic doesn’t like to be breached in this fashion. Instead of a melted lock, there was a rolling fireball of melted iron that flew along the length of several cells before exploding bits of hot metal everywhere. I shrieked, trying to shield myself with the empty food platter, but agonizing splashes hit my exposed feet and arm.
“Get it off, get it off,” I screamed, trying to flick away the burning bits and scrambling to get out of my smoking tunic. I was going to burn, burn badly, and it would take me days to fix myself.
“Oh you baby. Stop with the drama already,” Dar announced, striding through the flaming chunks and grabbing my arm. I could hear the dungeon door slam open, feet racing in response to this new explosion. I could feel Dar yank me to him, heard a soft “snick”, but all I could concentrate on was trying to save my fragile flesh from damage.
“Glah ham, shoceacan.”
A button. Where the fuck did Dar get a button? At least the magical transport had extinguished any remaining sparks clinging to my body and pants. I had a series of painful blisters up one arm and a few on my legs that looked rather serious. From the smell, a good bit of my hair had burned off. I was naked from the waist up, but luckily the tunic I’d thrown off and the dinner platter I’d used had shielded me from the brunt of the blast. It could have been worse—much worse.
“Dar, you ass. Are you trying to get me killed?” I pulled away from him and saw that I was home, inside the crumbling, yellow stone dwelling I’d bought with my trust fund once I’d reached the age of maturity. I’ll bet it was bursting at the seams with all the additions to my household.
“Well, that’s gratitude for you.” Dar grinned and yanked my hair, raking a claw against my bare stomach.
“Ow! Cut it out, Dar! Don’t damage me; I can’t fix myself right now.” I didn’t tell him that I was beginning to fear I’d never recover any significant conversion skills, that I’d be trapped in fragile human flesh with no way to quickly repair any injuries.
“Sorry, sorry!” He backed away, paws upraised. “Wyatt told me you’d been seriously damaged, but you know how these humans exaggerate everything. Can’t even break one of their bones without them screaming and crying like they’re dying or something.”
Wyatt. Longing hit me like a fist. “You spoke with Wyatt? Does he know I’m okay?”
Before Dar could answer, the door burst open, and nearly forty demons of all shapes and sizes poured into the room, all talking at once and trying to lay a paw or claw on me. Dar shooed them off, acting as a bodyguard. Aside from the top few, household members were supposed to remain a respectable distance back with eyes lowered, but relief over my obvious survival overcame all social niceties. They had to have been worried—a household without a master was vulnerable, and I’m sure they all thought I was dead after hearing from Wyatt.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I lied, waving my hands for silence. “I just need a few moments with Dar, and to contact my human household, then I need to have a meeting with all of you.”
“Can I stay? I’m so glad to see you alive and in one piece, Ni-ni.” Leethu’s pheromones slid over my skin in a caress, raising goose bumps and causing other physical reactions south of my waistband. She’d added tiny gold scales over the skin of her human face and body. They shimmered in the light; beautiful accessories on the stunning succubus. Leethu might not be the easiest houseguest, but I trusted her and would be a fool not to utilize her extensive knowledge of the elven kingdoms as well as her shrewd mind.
“Yes. Leethu and Dar. Everyone else go get ready for a big party tonight.”
There were cheers and the crowd raced out, empting the room as quickly as they had filled it.
“Ni-ni, can you fix your injuries? Wyatt said you were damaged and may have not recovered all your abilities yet.”
I looked about, to make sure we were alone and couldn’t be overhead. “Not really. Right now I can fix myself, but it takes a few days at the very least. I can’t hold more than a tiny store of energy, and I can’t convert matter in any significant amount.”
Leethu sucked in a breath. Both she and Dar looked at me in horror. If this got out, I’d be killed by any random demon who felt like it. My status would drop so far that no weregeld would need to be paid for my murder. My household would likewise be on the open market; either snatched up as lesser members of other’s groups, or killed themselves.
“What will he do?” Leethu murmured to Dar.
“He can’t find out.” Dar murmured back
“Who is ‘he’?” I demanded. “Who can’t find out?”
I knew no one should know of this, that it was dangerous if a head of a household was basically powerless, but they seemed to feel there was a particular threat from someone. They jumped in guilty surprise but ignored my questions.
“Surely you’ll recover. It’s only been a few months, and you’ve managed this human form. That requires skill.” Leethu ran a finger down my arm to illustrate, and I shivered at her touch, even with all my painful blisters.
I hesitated. “Maybe. I’m not giving up hope. I didn’t create this form, though. When I first arrived, all I could manage was some kind of weird pond
scum and a lizard. I stayed that way pretty much until a sorcerer performed a spell on me. I’ve been this way ever since.”
“Well, pond scum is something. Can you go back and forth between that form and the one you have now?”
“I’m afraid to try. What if I can’t change back?” Suddenly I was eager to be alone, where my failure would be my own and not the cause of fear and worry to my household.
“If a sorcerer can get you to change into a form that comes from one of your Owned beings, it means you still have that ability somewhere,” Dar assured me. “They just facilitated it. It’s there. Just give it time.”
“I don’t have time. I need to take out Feille right now. He’s got a weapon that can bring all of Hel under his thumb—demons included.”
Leethu and Dar exchanged worried glances.
“Mal, you can’t go after him right now. You’ve got a commitment you need to uphold.”
I stared at them as I searched my brain, trying to determine what the fuck they were talking about.
“Ahriman,” Dar prompted. “He showed up a few weeks back with your contract. You’re his now for the next millennium. We’re all his.”
I felt as if someone had squeezed my head in a vise. I’d forgotten all about the breeding contract, the one I’d signed when Dar had brought Nyalla over from Hel. Crap, I had no time for this now. How could I delay it, or get out of it entirely? Ahriman would hardly want me in my current condition.
“Actually, Ni-ni, we were very grateful,” Leethu said. “If he hadn’t put us under his protection, many would have died. Dar would have been fine, he’s run his own household before, and I always have offers, but the others….”
She was right—over two months with rumors of my death flying about. I thought about Baphomet’s household, of Raim’s, of all the Lows I’d taken under my wing. I’d signed the contract, and Ahriman had already begun making good on his end of the deal. I had no recourse now, and this wasn’t a demon I could possibly defy.
