Angel of Chaos (Imp Book 6)

by Debra Dunbar

  Jaq caught her breath, recoiling in surprise. Gripping Kelly’s hand, she exhaled. “Yes. I remember a man with snow–white wings bending over my crib, his hair black as a moonless night. I remember a silver trout in the lake, its eyes glowing as it watched me swim with my brother. I remember a strange wolf running by my side at a hunt last year. I think … maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks, but I think he has always watched over me.”

  Shit. I blinked back the inconvenient wetness in my eyes. “Tell me about your childhood, the things that made you feel part of the pack as well as the things that made you feel different.”

  “My parents never made me feel different,” she declared hotly. “As far as I was concerned, I was their daughter. Werewolves randomly change into wolf form as infants but stop once they reach the age of one or two. They don’t change again until their First Moon — generally around age twelve. It’s a huge celebration, and there’s a hunt in the young wolf’s honor.”

  What a great evolutionary trait! Children who could change into wolf form might not have enough control to hold themselves in check. Such a thing would endanger the entire pack. How remarkable that they lost the ability until they were old enough to understand the effect their actions would have on others.

  “Outside of infancy, a werewolf’s childhood is much like any other human’s. We have sitters — usually elderly members of the pack who choose not to hunt every moon, while our parents hunt. It’s no different than other kids whose parents have a monthly date night. We have Legos, Barbies, and Nerf guns. We play Monopoly and learn soccer at summer camp — just like human kids.”

  Jaq paused and looked over to Kelly. The vampire met her eyes and smiled. There was a second of connection, of power exchange between the two, then the Nephilim turned her attention back to me. “But my childhood was different. I never lost the ability to change forms, and I could change into whatever I wished. At the age of four, I became a red–tailed hawk and panicked my parents by flying several miles along the banks of the Shenandoah River. I became lost, changed back and wandered in the forest for a few hours. Luckily my mother had raced after me in her wolf form. She has a great nose — the best in the pack. She found me crying and naked under a white pine by the side of a dirt road.”

  I shivered, thinking about a child alone and scared in an unknown forest. What would Harper do? Maybe she wasn’t equipped to raise this son of hers.

  “Then a boy in second grade jumped me on the playground at school. I threw him thirty feet across the baseball field and into the branches of an oak tree. He fell, breaking his arm in two places and dislocating his shoulder. Luckily no one believed the children who told on me. The teachers told his parents that he’d been climbing a tree and lost his grip.”

  I could sense her agitation, her guilt over these things, but I also detected that she felt a sense of relief to finally confess them to someone who wouldn’t judge her. Of all the beings in the world, a demon would hardly condemn such actions. They were normal in the course of our lives, not worthy of even a second thought.

  “In eighth grade, after my First Moon, I fell in love with a boy. He didn’t return my affections.” Jaq hesitated, a look of pain crossing her face. “I followed him around, sending him little gifts and notes. One day he humiliated me in front of my classmates, saying that I was an ugly freak and that he’d never be interested in a beast like me. I lost my temper and enthralled him. For months, he didn’t speak. He carried my books to every class, walked me home from school, even kissed me behind the stadium.”

  “It’s okay,” I told her, feeling raw at the guilt that poured out of her. “Young demons do far worse. These things happen.”

  “No,” she choked out. “After my First Moon, these things shouldn’t happen. I was supposed to have control at that point, to be trusted with my abilities.”

  I hesitated. There was no way I could have her reveal all this over some internet connection. Harper needed to see her in person, to know the risk she was taking if she didn’t accept their help — Jaq’s help, in raising her son. But in the meantime, I felt I needed to soothe this Nephilim, to give her perspective from an angel and from a demon point of view.

  “Jaq, you’re a half–angel. Do you have any idea how long it takes us — them, angels I mean, to gain control? Centuries. You’re doing better than the majority. Stop judging yourself against werewolves. You may be related, along the chain of evolution, but you’re not one of them. You’re Nephilim.”

  “And I’m alone. Even in a pack of werewolves. I’m accepted, respected, given a position of status and responsibility — but I’m still different. And no one forgets it.” She looked at me sadly. “I’m being brutally honest, because I want your friend to know this. We may be the best chance her son has at surviving, but it’s still not an easy road. I want to help. I want to do all I can so another half–angel doesn’t go through the confusion I did. Her son will never be lonely or lost with me around.”

  Definitely fuck Skype. These things needed to be said in person. “Will you come to meet with her? She’s in great danger if she leaves my house right now, but I want her to see you face–to–face and make a decision that way.”

  “No,” the older werewolf, one of the guys I’d smushed when I fell backwards, spoke up. “I won’t risk our First on this kind of thing. Record her, internet chat her, whatever, but she’s not leaving the protection of our territory.”

  “We made alliances for a reason, Jonah.” Jaq’s freckles were nearly lost in the reddening of her face. “I should be able to travel outside our territory without fear of discovery.”

  “But not Maryland,” Kelly whispered, tugging at Jaq’s hand. “That’s Fournier land. We need to stay in Monica’s territory if we want to be safe.”

  The Nephilim’s jaw firmed, her eyes gray steel. “I won’t let this woman down. She’s pregnant and afraid. Her baby is my brother as far as I’m concerned. I don’t care what risk I take, if she needs me, I’ll come to her.”

  There was a flurry of argument around us, every werewolf taking at once.

  “Can’t you teleport her back and forth?” Candy yelled in my ear. Werewolves weren’t known for their hushed tones, and agitated werewolves had the volume of a passing freight train. People in the restaurant were beginning to glare at us, but just as their angelic ancestors did, the werewolves didn’t pay the humans one bit of attention.

  “Yeah, if she doesn’t mind about twenty side trips to various parts of the world. We might end up a–few–hundred feet underwater too.” That hadn’t been a problem for me, but I’d hate to drown this Nephilim. I doubt her vampire girlfriend would be the slightest bit forgiving if I did.

  Candy wrinkled her nose. “How about Gregory?”

  I’d told her of his measured steps down the slippery slope of sin, and his rather shocking willingness to throw aside his vibration pattern to help me cover up my illegal activities. If I asked, I was pretty sure he’d do this, but at what cost? I didn’t know if his position within Aaru was in jeopardy, but he’d made it clear that his choices over the last few years were throwing the entire angelic host into an uproar. Getting caught transporting a Nephilim to meet with the mother of a Nephilim in the house of the Iblis might be whacking the hornets’ nest a bit too hard.

  “I can’t put him in that position.” Yeah, that’s me — the ‘nice demon’ looking out for her boyfriend’s interests. Sheesh.

  Candy squinted, like she always did when she was churning ideas around in her brain. “Is there a gate to Hel in West Virginia? Or even in one of the southeastern seaboard states?”

  I got where she was going, but having Jaq come back in the Columbia Mall would put her almost as far from my house as the West Virginia border. But the mention of Hel gave me an idea.

  “There’s a sorcerer in Hel that sells stuff to demons. He might have something that can help.” Gareth had supplied me with an amulet of non–detection when I’d needed to fly in through a host of elf wards and
deliver a smackdown. It only gave protection for an hour, but if I drove like a maniac — or even flew, I might be able to get Jaq back and forth before it wore out.

  “Do we have time for you to make a trip to Hel?” Candy worried. “Every day that Harper stays in your house increases the risk that someone will see her and turn her in.”

  She was right. I doubted everyone on the Ruling Council was happy to turn a blind eye to my obvious lie. There would be watchers set around my house — in fact, they were probably in place now. Plus, I wasn’t sure Gareth would even have the amulet off–the–rack. If he had to make one … shit, I had no fucking idea how long that would take.

  “I’ll hurry, but just in case, can you and Michelle somehow convince her aunt to put a barrier around my house? She can dispel it once I get home.”

  Candy raised an eyebrow. “What about the angels in your house? Assuming they don’t have to vacate to the barn or Wyatt’s, they’ll be trapped inside.”

  Damn. Oh well. Too fucking bad. “That Dalmai guy doesn’t do anything but meditate all the time anyway; worthless fucking angel. Nils would stay to protect the girls — either from the inside or around the perimeter. And it’s just for a day or two.”

  Candy nodded, and I turned to the arguing werewolves, blowing a shrill whistle between two fingers to get their attention so I could speak.

  “Listen up! I may have a way to get your First to and from my house undetected, but I’ll need to make a quick trip to Hel. Candy will let you know the details in a few days. Cool?”

  The werewolves glanced at Candy, clearly relying on her as to my trustworthiness. Then everyone slowly nodded. Well, everyone except the vampire, who narrowed her eyes as she watched me, every cell in her body radiating distrust.

  –18–

  You want what?” Gareth wiped his hands on a cloth and carefully screwed the lid on a glass jar full of ochre powder.

  “Amulet of non–detection. Remember that one you gave me last summer so I could fly into Cyelle without setting off the wards? You said it allowed me to travel in an interdimensional rift.”

  “I remember. What are you trying to do with it, though? That may not be the best magical object for this application.”

  I hesitated, watching the sorcerer label the jar with bold, black elven script and put it on the shelf behind him. How much information could I trust him with? It’s not like Gareth had daily dealings with angels, and so far he’d been the soul of discretion. Plus, I was worried that if I held something back, whatever I got would wind up not working. Having a whole pack of werewolves and a really pissed off vampire after me because I’d gotten their Nephilim dusted wasn’t worth the risk of not telling Gareth the whole juicy story.

  “I’m trying to sneak a Nephilim about forty miles to my house, then return her home without angels detecting her.”

  “A what?” The sorcerer paused, a bundle of cedar sticks in one hand and a piece of twine in the other. “What’s a Neffy–liam?”

  “Nephilim,” I corrected. “It’s what happens when an angel pops a chubby and gets busy with a human female. Half–angel–half–human baby, although from the one I’ve met, they seem to be more on the angel side than the human side.”

  He stared at me open–mouthed, cedar sticks forgotten. “But angels don’t … they can’t … their physical forms don’t include reproductive organs. At least from what the texts I’ve read tell me, they don’t.”

  “Normally, no, but angels haven’t been able to bear offspring since the separation treaty two–and–a–half–million years ago. That’s a mighty long dry spell, even for an immortal. They’d probably fuck a shoebox full of bologna at this point. Humans are better than nothing.”

  “Yeah, but they must have some way of taking care of things where they don’t have to actually have sex. I mean … you know.” Gareth pumped his hand in a quick motion along the cedar sticks, mimicking a move I imagine he’d done countless times. Sorcerers spent a lot of time studying. I’m sure they also masturbated like a bunch of monkeys.

  “They fuck each other, although it doesn’t involve a physical form. Angel–on–angel sex doesn’t produce offspring, either.”

  Gareth leaned over the table toward me, clearly fascinated. “So how do they do it, if they don’t have physical forms?”

  I didn’t mind the detour our conversation had taken. Sex was a topic near and dear to my heart.

  “We’re beings of spirit. There’s a merging, a joining of sorts. It’s different than the physical sensation of human–type sex. There’s the same emotional connection, but your entire being becomes one with the other. There’s no separation. It’s incredibly intimate.”

  The sorcerer stared at me open–mouthed. The cedar sticks dropped one by one to the floor from his open hand. “You’ve done this with an angel. You, a demon, have had sex with an angel.”

  There wasn’t any question in his voice at all, but I still felt I should answer. “Yeah, but just angel sex. Not human–type sex. Not yet, anyway. I’m hopeful. We’ve been heading down that road, but shit takes forever when it comes to angels. I’ll be lucky if we get to third base by the next millennium.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I know you’re the Iblis, and I’ve seen your wings, but I’m not sure I can swallow this tale of you having sex with an angel — even if it doesn’t involve physical bodies.”

  “Two years ago I wouldn’t have believed it either.” I walked around the little table and bent down to pick up the cedar sticks. “So, will that amulet work? Do you have any available?”

  “Here’s the problem.” Gareth bent down beside me, his robe gathering on the floor as he brushed off the sticks and examined them closely. “You’ll avoid detection by magical means, but I don’t know how that translates when it comes to angels. If they have some special gift — a kind of second sight, then the amulet won’t help you one bit. Plus, if they have someone watching your house, they’ll actually see you arriving. The amulet doesn’t block sensory input once you arrive at your destination and exit the rift.”

  I stood and thought, twirling one of the cedar sticks between my fingers. “Shit. I don’t think angels use magic the way you or the elves do. I think it’s more like a special sensory thing.”

  “Sensory how? Do they pick up on energy signature the way demons do? Is there a scent, or type of sound?”

  “I don’t think it’s visual or sensory in the way humans would detect something. Angels just don’t swing that way, and Nephilim can change forms anyway. I’m sure it has something to do with their energy signature. Something about their sprit–selves.”

  I watched Gareth stand and tie the cedar twigs into a neat bundle. He put them on a shelf then leaned against the table, tapping his chin with a finger.

  “So we need something to hide their energy signature, and their physical appearance. An elven net, perhaps?”

  I doubted Jaq was going to consent to being hauled in a bag for forty miles. And even if she consented, that vampire friend of hers certainly wouldn’t approve. “What if it’s not energy, but it’s an aura they’re sensing or something? Angels have this weird thing about color and sound. Our spirit–beings have distinctive colors, although those can’t be perceived by the human eye.”

  “I don’t think the elven nets are going to hide aura or the color of your spirit–self. If angels have that sort of ‘sight’, then there’s a good chance they’ll detect your Nephilim.”

  I let out an exasperated puff of air. “What if we forget about the whole ‘non–detection’ thing and look into some kind of transportation option. If I can get her to and from my house lickity–split, then the angels won’t be able to find her.”

  “Ah, like the inter–realm gates the elves use. That’s not something they ever teach us. I think it might be a skill that’s only available to elves. And angels.”

  And me. If only I could use it reliably.

  “But you guys do elf buttons and transportation scrolls. Would somethi
ng like that work?”

  The sorcerer’s finger increased tempo on his chin. “Two elf buttons, but they need to be pre–keyed, and I’ve only created them for a destination in Hel.”

  “How about other mages?” I urged. “There was a human messenger from Cyelle last year that was transported to my house and used an elf button to return. So it must be possible.”

  “Messengers use the elf gates, or the elves open a travel rift for them. The elf buttons are only for return to Hel or inter–Hel transportation.” His finger froze on his chin then extended out, pointing toward me. “But there is another way.”

  “What?” I was desperate. This was my last hope to get Jaq safely to my house and back.

  “Kirby’s marble.”

  The words nudged at the back of my memory, but I just couldn’t place it. “Is that something to do with Occam’s razor?”

  Gareth’s brows knitted in a bold line. “I’ve got no idea what an Occam’s razor is. Kirby’s marble is the name given to the transportation device invented by Freemage Kirby. It involves two devices that are linked and allow interdimensional travel between them. It used to be a one–way item, which meant you had to buy two in order to return, but he’s perfected two–way use. You buy it on license for a set number of uses, and he can recharge the items for a fee. The guy is raking it in.”

  “Kirby!” I shouted. My old mage buddy from Cyelle. “I know him! That will be perfect.” I could order two sets — one for Jaq, and another for Harper to safely join the werewolves in West Virginia.

  “I’ll have to see if he has any available,” Gareth warned. “He had a pretty big backlog last time I checked.”

  “I’ll go see him myself.” There was a better chance I’d score one if I appealed in person. “Where is he working?”