Imp Forsaken (Imp Book 5)

by Debra Dunbar

  Oma walked to the table and picked up my bowl, peering nearsightedly into the bottom. With a horrible noise deep in her throat, the dwarf spat into the bowl, holding it away from her face to observe the new contents. I held back a gag of revulsion. I might be a demon, but that was just gross.

  The expressions dancing their way across Oma's face were amazing. She frowned, pursed her lips, barked out a laugh then paled in concern.

  "What? What?" I urged, dying to know what she was divining in her loogy.

  "Hush." She waggled her eyebrows, shoving her face even nearer the bowl's center. I had a sudden gruesome vision of her eating the contents. I'd hurl if she did that. Fuck, I was ready to hurl just thinking about it.

  "Be an imp," she announced, turning around to set the bowl into a washbasin.

  That was it? 'Be an imp?' What the fuck did that mean? "Oma, I am very grateful for your guidance, but can you be more specific?"

  She spun about, clearly irritated that I was still in the room. "Niyaz, because I am entertained by the visions of your future antics, I'll tell you more. Your household is bigger than you think. Cultivate the angelic virtues of trust and patience. But most importantly, be an imp."

  Walking to the door, she grabbed the metal-tipped staff with one hand and flung open the door with the other. "Now, get out of here before I beat you."

  Wind tore through the door, the first big drops of rain blowing in over the threshold. I smiled and darted through to the night, avoiding the swing of Oma's staff. Just like old times.

  24

  The cold bore through clothing and flesh down to bone. It wasn't as frigid here as in some places since there was a rather limited range to earth's surface temperatures at the moment. Sill, a human physical body felt these things rather keenly, even if an angel held himself as distant as possible from the flesh. With a flash of guilt, Gabriel edged his spirit-being down farther into the nerve endings of his form to better experience the sharp ache. Yes, bone-chilling was an accurate term for this temperature.

  Looking ahead he saw an angel's wings, blending in with white snow, except for the pattern of gray scarring, like a starburst along their width. There had always been gray along the tips, darkest at the long flight feathers, but it was the scarring that stood out. Gabriel looked down at his own stark, white wings, invisible against the landscape, and felt a wash of remorse. He'd always been a messenger, not a fighter, but his brother's injuries when compared to his lack always filled him with a sense of regret. If he'd been there, would things have been different? Would Samael and the other angels have remained in Aaru?

  The other angel shifted on his perch and the three sets of wings parted, revealing a vaguely human form with dark, reddish-brown curls. The warmth of his brother's power hit Gabriel like a thousand suns, making him smile with remembrance. He'd always been a spirit of water, of ice, but even here, surrounded by his favorite element, he was outclassed.

  Gabriel glided toward him, leaving no footprints in the white. Halting before the still seated angel, he snatched a large, bound document out of the ether and presented it to him.

  "Close the gates. The major seven and all minor ones. Close them all."

  His brother chose to ignore the dramatic statement, words that not been spoken since the creation of the passageways nearly three million years ago. Instead, he frowned at the document in his hands, turning it over to examine it from all sides.

  "A four-nine-five report? Surely you must have retrieved the incorrect form. I've not had the pleasure of seeing one of these from you in a millennia or more."

  "It was an accident,” Gabriel lied. "The human man was drunk, fell off his boat and drowned. I neglected to save him."

  The older angel looked up from the report, his eyebrows raised in skeptical amusement. "Always such a stickler for the rules, Gabriel. Other angels would not feel the need to complete a report under circumstances such as you described. Are you sure you didn't push him? Perhaps spike his beverage with something sleep-inducing?"

  Gabriel waved the question away, irritation like a burr in his mid-section. No one knew how to annoy him like this brother. At least, no one since Samael had left.

  "This human is of no matter. Close the gates."

  "Oh, I beg to differ. Just look at this impact study, which is very thorough, by the way. I commend you on the level of detail here. This report warrants additional analysis, perhaps a secondary level, just to ensure we're not missing anything here."

  "Forget about the stupid human," Gabriel exploded. "You need to close the gates."

  A burst of flame hit the younger angel, but he held fast, neutralizing it with his opposing element. He'd not be able to hold out against a serious attack from his brother, but these little reminders of their respective positions were easy to shrug off.

  "I need to do nothing," the older angel replied, sweeping his lower wings along the snow in an "S". "And I will not forget about the 'stupid human'. You will subject this report to the same process and procedure as all other four-nine-five reports. The man's soul cries out for fairness in judgment."

  Normally Gabriel was a stickler for the rules. The irony of having his brother be the one insisting on due process wasn't lost on him. Process and procedure were there to ensure fairness and balance, but in a time of crisis, all that could wait.

  "He's dead. It's not our job to weigh his soul. If the Ruling Council as a whole wants more detail, then I'll deliver more detail. Until then, we have more pressing matters at hand."

  The cream-colored wings with their spiderwebs of gray whispered against the ground as they traced patterns in the snow. "Dearest brother, please enlighten me as to these pressing matters that require me to close the gates to Hel—something that has never before been done."

  Gabriel felt everything inside himself ice over. This was the only brother that could make him feel small with one look, with a handful of words. An ancient, powerful archangel, a member of the Ruling Council, and he was instantly reduced to a small boy who could do nothing right, who lacked the speed and strength in his ice-white wings to keep up with the older two, but who was too old for the baby games of Rafi and Sam. An angel in the middle.

  “There is a group of angels that have devised a method to bring about creation without unholy contact with demons, but they sin greatly and break the terms of our treaty with the demons.”

  Gabriel waited, but his brother didn’t seem particularly surprised, let alone alarmed. Fury boiled inside him at the unemotional response.

  “Furlac and Vaol, they were involved in this. If you had bothered to do a decent investigation, you would have known. If your Grigori had been doing what they were supposed to be doing, then these unforgivable violations of angelic law would never have occurred.”

  “I know.”

  He knew? He knew? Why in all of creation hadn’t he put it in the reports? Why? The fury spilled over, and Gabriel saw red. His brother had never had his degree of moral certainty, but this was unforgivable. So Gabriel did what he always did, struck where it would hurt the most.

  With a flick of his hand he tossed a small plastic card to the ground. It slid across the snow. His brother tensed as he looked down at the picture on the license.

  “She was there. That’s why she was injured so badly. She killed Furlac, killed an angel, and nearly died in the process.”

  The elder angel seemed not to hear him as he picked up the card and looked longingly at the picture. “Yes. She and I tracked down the devouring spirit and killed him, but she felt there was more to the situation.”

  Gabriel watched his brother carefully. “What did you think?”

  He shrugged. “Some vigilante angel tangled with the wrong demon and was devoured. At the time, I didn’t connect what happened there to any larger plot.”

  “They sinned, Furlac and Vaol. They were aiding demons to break the treaty and cross the gates. They were killing them and parting them out to use in procreation research. They involved humans in this
unlawful plot. Humans. Once again, we contributed to the downfall of a species we sought to enlighten.”

  His brother nodded, running a gentle finger over the license. “Uriel confided in me. She still mourns, my brother, and had hoped Furlac could ease the pain she and so many others suffer. She is repentant. Furlac is dead, and with him the entire scheme. The matter is closed, unless you wish to indict the Iblis in the murder of an angel.”

  Gabriel winced at his brother’s tone. He had no doubt that his pursuit of the matter would widen the chasm between them to unforgivable proportions. “I don’t fault the Iblis for her actions. She has a responsibility to ensure the safety of her people, and Furlac broke the law. But the matter is far from closed. You must shut down the gates.”

  “I appreciate your leniency in regards to my Cockroach’s murder of an angel,” his brother commented wryly. “But I will not be closing those gates. Now run on back to Aaru to increase your purity and let me deal with all these messy human things.”

  Gabriel’s anger bubbled to the surface. He was nearly four billion years old, and still his brother treated him like a newly formed angel.

  "Your inattention to duty nearly cost you the life of your imp. How many more will die while you sulk in grief and ignore the betrayal that occurs right in front of your face?"

  He was prepared this time for the explosion of heat that came his way but still struggled to protect both himself and the pristine environment around them from damage.

  "You dare to bring her into this? I am fully aware of my failings, as well as the existence of rebellion in my midst. Angels were making deals with demons and elves, involving humans in their treachery, but the matter is over. Furlac is dead, their facility destroyed. Leave this alone and go back to Aaru.”

  "This goes deeper than Furlac, you thick-headed idiot. You sit here and grieve, and, in the meantime, they continue.”

  And now he had his brother’s interest. The elder angel jerked to face him, his black eyes furious, his corporeal form shimmering with anger. “What do you mean? I’ve watched carefully, and there are no more large groups of Low demons brought through. I’ve imposed added scrutiny on any angel outside Aaru who isn’t Grigori.”

  Gabriel winced. No wonder Tura had asked him for assistance in transferring the vials. He felt a wave of guilt that he’d involved Asta. If he hadn’t asked her, maybe the project would have died. Or maybe Tura would have found another patron to help him, one with fewer morals than Asta. The information she’d gathered may have never come to light.

  “They may no longer be bringing demons through the gates, but they are still bartering for their chopped-up bits and transporting them to Aaru. They are colluding with demons who are selling out their own kind and subjecting them to an unmerciful death. No matter what you do, they’ll still find a way around it. You have to shut down the gates.”

  His brother frowned up at him, perplexed. “Why do you care? They’re demons. Don’t you wish them all dead? And this is by their own hands, even. I’d think you would find it rather poetic.”

  Gabriel didn’t want them all dead. He thought of Samael, poised on the rim of an active volcano, his wings reddish-orange in the reflected light, daring them to swim in the molten lava. He didn’t want them all dead, because somewhere deep inside, he still had hope of a different future than the grim one outlined in that horrible treaty.

  “It’s wrong. Morally and ethically wrong, whether it’s angels doing the slaughter or demons. We cannot sully our wings with such sin. I beg of you, as head of the Grigori, to close the gates. Shut down the gates. Shut off their supply, then find and punish everyone involved.”

  "And how am I to find them if I close the gates and tip them off?" He waved his hand in emphasis, the heat still flowing from him like a noonday sun. "They will scurry like rodents into little cracks and crevices the moment the light comes on. Temporarily, we will stop them, but the moment the gates are re-opened they will continue."

  Gabriel smiled. “I already know who one is. He approached me for assistance in setting up a presentation before the Ruling Council. They are ready to announce their procreation method.”

  His brother stood, towering over the younger angel. “You’re an unlikely ally in this particular project, Gabriel. Since when have you ever been inclined toward creation? Are you sure there isn’t some other motive for why they approached you? Something else behind this scheme of theirs?”

  Gabriel thought for a moment, taking the questions seriously. He’d put out the word he might be interested through Sidriel, but why had the Ruling Council member even brought the subject up with him? He was an unlikely ally in this matter. Had he once again allowed zeal to overshadow common sense? “We should be cautious. Do you believe this project is a front for some other activity?”

  “I think they need to bring proof to this meeting. I want to see their creation mechanisms, including how they manage to overcome the problem of formation. We’ll address the ethical issues then. And we should hold this meeting here, among the humans. They will be more vulnerable if they plan to attack.”

  Now that was more like the brother Gabriel knew before the war. “I will let them believe our meeting will be in Aaru until the last moment. Should we use the same place we have held the last few meetings?”

  The older angel shook his head. “Another location as an added precaution. Normally I would arrange for some Grigori to be close by, but I honesty am not sure which of them to trust at this point. Circumstances lead me to believe quite a few may have conflicting loyalties.”

  Gabriel squirmed, unsure whether that last remark was directed at him or not. “There will be the six most powerful angels in all of Aaru in attendance. I think we can do without additional protection.”

  His brother nodded, a faint smile quirking up one side of his mouth. “Agreed. But if they show up with a large wooden horse, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  How a large wooden horse could be a threat was beyond Gabriel, but he would defer to his brother’s superior knowledge of the modern human world on this point. “Then you agree to close the gates to Hel?”

  The elder angel sighed, looking off into the distance. “I can’t. Just in case….”

  Gabriel reached an awkward hand toward his brother, pulling it back at the last moment. He knew there was another reason the elder angel did not want the gates closed.

  "What if she doesn't live?" he asked as gently as he could. "You would risk the lives of so many, allow this monstrous violation of all that is right and good on the slim chance that she survived, that the demons didn't tear her to shreds the moment her damaged body was discovered?"

  "She does live," the older angel insisted. "She has contacted her human, and although she is still injured, she will survive."

  “Even if she does live, how could she ever use the gates again? Didn’t you banish her?”

  The older angel sighed, his wings drooping further onto the ground. “I hope that she somehow overcomes that. She’s not like the other demons. Perhaps she can travel through the gates again, even banished. It’s not like she hasn’t done other, very unexpected, things.”

  Gabriel winced, remembering that the Iblis devoured. His brother had surely lost his mind, loving a demon that would probably cause the end of all creation.

  "What will she think of you if she learns you did nothing to protect her people, made no move to avenge the wrongs against her person? They nearly killed her. My brother, the Angel of Justice, can you ever face her if you let this continue?"

  The elder turned a wry smile to his brother. "I think that title has shifted to your shoulders. I'd like the Vengeance one instead."

  Gabriel couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "Good luck getting rid of any of your titles. You know you'll just wind up with Vengeance as an addition."

  Reddish curls swayed as the angel shook his head. "What's one more? I've already got… fifty? Or is it sixty?"

  "I lost count. Don't ask me to nam
e them, either. I had to write them down on notecards last time."

  His brother laughed, a hint of real amusement behind the bitterness. "All right, Gabriel. I will lock down the gates to Hel. All but one. We can surely safeguard one gate, and I need to leave her an option—just in case."

  Gabriel stood for a moment, watching his eldest sibling. “I hope . . I hope she finds a way back to you, my brother.”

  He turned to leave, pausing when his brother spoke. “Thank you, Gabe.”

  Gabe. It brought back a flood of childhood memories, of when they fought and played together, closer than any five angels could be, a time before they were saddled with titles, before envy, pride, and greed scarred their love for each other and wrenched them apart. Back then, he was just Gabe.

  He turned and met his brother’s black eyes, feeling the love and admiration he’d once had when he was young. “You’re welcome, Micha.”

  25

  The elves had planned to attack at breakfast. It was a clever strategy. Most of their stealth attacks happened in the dark of night, which was an odd choice given their amazing night vision. Coordinated battles—usually feuds and large-scale settling of disagreements—happened during the day. Feille would realize the instability of his new kingdoms and the inevitable resistance. He'd be braced for battle at dark and dawn especially, but not in the middle of the morning meal. Elves were creatures of habit, and respect for dining hours, holy moments, and festivals was ingrained into their culture. Attacking a kingdom as they ate muffins and dried fruit was unthinkable.

  So I had from dawn until breakfast to make my move. It was a tight window. Feille would have the utmost security about his person as he slept, but as all elves, he would be up with the sun. That's when I needed to find him, somewhere between bed and royal breakfast room. I patted down my various weapons, so unusual for a demon to be carrying, and contemplated my list of likely spots to find my victim. Bath? Wardrobe? Contemplation room? Or maybe he was an early morning, wake-up sex kinda guy.