Queen of the Damned (Imp Series Book 9)

by Debra Dunbar

  He wrinkled his nose. “Although the idea of fucking an angel is certainly appealing, I don’t think I want to get that close to one. What sort of duties would you demand of me? Do you have a project in mind, or would I be ‘on-call’? And what is the minimum length of your household affiliation contract?”

  I needed to dismiss the sword soon, or risk having an up close and personal discussion with the mall cops. “I’d be willing to do a six-month contract so we can both evaluate the fit, then discuss something longer at that point. You’d need to carry a cell phone and answer immediately when I call. Right now I just need information on anything that’s going on that you think the Iblis should know about—such as a stock market crash, or the Ancients in Hel awakening and trying to amass an army. That sort of thing.”

  His eyes grew so big that I could see the whites clear around the blue irises. “The Ancients are awake? All of them? Fuck! I’ll take it. Anything to stay here and out of Hel. No fucking way I’m going home to get conscripted into service under some asshole who wants me to fight a bunch of angels.”

  I winced. Little did he know that I just got done fighting a bunch of angels with my household and some conscripts of my own. Either way this guy was screwed. Might as well be screwed on my side, though. Standing up, I yanked my sword out of the bench and jabbed the flat of the blade against the back of Mestal’s hand. It sizzled and he jumped, nearly knocking his laptop off the bench. Before he could protest I dismissed the sword and turned to leave.

  “Welcome to the household, Mestal. You’re mine now.”

  Beatrix and I walked out of the mall before teleporting—me back home and her back to the gateway in Columbia. One tiny bit of progress in my “take charge” project was complete, and I had an additional greed demon in my household, one who owed fealty to me. Now I only had the rest of Hel to worry about.

  Chapter 5

  Gabriel banged the gavel on the table. I hadn’t told him that instead of an official gavel, he was using one of my crab mallets. It still had stains on the end of it from the Old Bay seasoning. Nyalla was once again wedged between the two of us on Gabe’s right, Gregory on my other side. Asta was to the left of Gabe with Rafi beside her, and Ahia between Gregory and Raphael. It was a round table, and I was seriously tempted to start making King Arthur references. If I had known, I would have brought a big boulder to shove my sword into, just as an appropriate decoration.

  “Post-lockout Ruling Council meeting number eight now called to order,” Gabe announced. He never missed an opportunity to remind us all that they were unable to enter Aaru. And insinuate, if not outright say, that it was my fault.

  “Don’t you mean post-fall?” I corrected. The whole thing with Mestal had put me in a good mood. Yeah, I was somewhat worried about the Ancients and their plans, and I but I loved teasing Gabe. And I loved reminding these guys that technically they were all considered Fallen angels. Not that I really wanted the entire heavenly host in my choir. Not that I really wanted Gabe in my choir.

  “We haven’t Fallen,” Rafael reminded me. “We were simply ejected from Aaru and can’t get back in.”

  “Fallen,” I insisted. I did appreciate that Rafi wasn’t rubbing the fact that it was my fault into my face at every moment.

  “Banished by an idiot who is so inept she can’t reverse it.” And then there was Gabe, who did rub it in my face at every moment.

  “Oh, stop. Sam had good reasons for what she did, and she’ll find a way to reverse it.” Nyalla’s reproof was gentle, but I was impressed that she was scolding the archangel, especially Gabe who intimidated and frightened most humans. She’d come a long way, my girl.

  Gabe tensed. “I certainly hope she finds a way to reverse it because having the entire heavenly host here among the humans isn’t beneficial for anyone. Vibration levels will fall. Angels will struggle with the temptations of being in corporeal form. And humans will be caught in the middle. This isn’t a good situation, and I doubt our ability to keep it a secret for long.”

  “I think it’s a good situation,” Nyalla countered. “Angels need to understand the human condition. They’ll gain empathy and a breadth of experience that will only help them on their path to divinity.”

  I stared at her in amazement. Where had she learned all this stuff? It was the perfect thing to say to that stick-in-the-ass angel. Clever girl.

  Gabe visibly relaxed at her words. “Perhaps, but I fear what may happen in the meantime. Who will protect the humans from angels who do not understand the role they must play here? We’re powerful beings, and not all of us feel this experiment with the humans is a successful one. Many may think, as I once did, that it would be best to end all human lives and begin again with another species.”

  “I’m working on it.” I glared at the angel, exasperated. “In the meantime, I’d expect the angelic host to behave themselves. And if they can’t, well you archangels need to get off your asses and take care of those who stray. I seem to be in charge of everything else, the least you guys could do is make sure the angels don’t go around committing genocide, or conjuring up a global tsunami.”

  “Speaking of duties that belong to the Iblis that she is not taking care of, several angels have brought to my attention that there are growing concerns about the werewolves—also known as Nephilim and their descendants,” Gabriel drawled in response.

  Before I could say a word in rebuttal I saw Ahia stiffen. Her reaction was understandable given that she’d considered herself a Nephilim until recently and had been living for the last few centuries in a wolf pack. Whatever slight Gabe was building toward wasn’t directed at her, though. I was the one in the archangel’s crosshairs with this topic.

  “What concerns?” I snapped before Ahia had a chance. “Did they mistake one of the angels for a chew toy? Did some angel spout off racist bullshit in a bar and is now crying to you because a big bad wolf smashed his face in?”

  Gabe looked down his nose at me. “They’re undisciplined, unregulated, and running wild without any supervision. Ever since you’ve assumed control of that population, they’ve been flouting the rules of their existence contract. They’re forming mate relationships with humans. They’re changing packs, even becoming unaffiliated lone-wolves without angelic permission. They’re holding hunts without following procedures. There are even YouTube videos of them changing and attacking people.”

  “Those were staged,” Ahia sputtered. “Those videos were edited. The werewolves were shot with magically tainted bullets to force them to shift and go rogue. The videos were meant to turn the human public against us…them. They’re propaganda. Fake news. It’s not our…the werewolves’ fault.”

  I didn’t give a damn about YouTube videos of werewolves or any of Gabe’s complaints. These were the least of our problems right now. Leave it to him to focus on the inane minutiae while Rome burned to the ground around him.

  “Yeah, well no surprise there. I tore up the existence contract.” The room fell oddly silent at my announcement. “I tore it up, burned it, then took a big five-pound shit on it.”

  Gregory took an audible inhalation. “So you’ve left a group of powerful individuals with superhuman powers and shapeshifting ability to run about without any regulation. Anarchy is what we are heading toward if you continue down this path, Cockroach. I cannot support you in this. Unrestrained chaos such as this will herald in the end-times.”

  As if he didn’t see the apocalypse right in front of our faces. “Herald? Babe, that trumpet blew a long time ago. Did you sleep through it or something?”

  Gabe scowled. “I most certainly did not blow the trumpet.”

  I waved his comment away. “Doesn’t matter. The werewolves aren’t running amuck like monsters in some big-budget dystopian movie. I put Candy in charge of them.”

  “Candy?” Raphael’s lips twitched. “Isn’t that putting a fox in charge of the henhouse?”

  “No, it’s putting a fox in charge of the fox-house. Or den. Or whatever the fuc
k they call it. She’s a werewolf. She’s one of the most dedicated Alphas I know. She’s fair and organized, and all those things I’m not. Let the werewolves govern themselves. I’ve got enough shit to do without approving Phil’s transfer from the Atlanta pack to Van Buren, or whether the Austin pack should hold their annual hunt in the fall or the spring.”

  “Which you wouldn’t have to approve anyway, since you tore up the existence contract,” Asta reminded me.

  “Werewolves still have rules,” I told her. “They’re just self-imposed rules instead of draconian ones handed down from on high and made up by a bunch of angels who never even met a werewolf or Nephilim and haven’t been out of Aaru more than a handful of times in the last five million years.”

  “What happens when their interests conflict with those of the humans?” Gregory had one eyebrow up, as if he doubted the sanity of my decision. Imagine that. “Are you planning on stepping in then, or just letting humans try to battle it out with beings that could kill them with a swipe of a paw?”

  “Well, let’s see…there’s seven billion humans in this world and I’m guessing about fifty thousand shifters at most. And given that most of them are clustered in the U.S. where every man, woman, and child owns at least twenty firearms with or without the magic bullets that pretty much kill shifters on contact…. Hmm, I’m thinking we need to worry less about the humans and more about those poor wolf shifters. And bear shifters. And cougar shifters and other shit.”

  “Yeah!” Ahia sputtered, raising slightly out of her chair. I think the only thing keeping her from jumping up and leaping onto the table was Raphael’s somewhat panicked attempts to restrain her. “Magic users, and elves, and hydras, and manticores are coming through ever-increasing rifts. Why are you focusing the problem on us…I mean, the werewolves? Nephilim and their descendants? They’re not invulnerable, as recent events in Alaska have illustrated. They’re the least of your problems.”

  Gregory stared at Ahia in surprise. Gabe glared at her, then shot a quick look at his younger brother. I thought for a second he was going to make the fatal mistake of telling Raphael to “control his woman” or some shit like that. Instead he just shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

  “We’re not focusing on Nephilim and their descendants,” Gregory said. “It’s one of many situations we’re juggling right now, all of them of equal importance. We’re in the middle of dealing with the elven integration and the challenges that proposes, a recent war in Aaru that is not over by any stretch of the imagination, those interdimensional rifts you mentioned that are spitting out all sorts of monsters and creatures some of whom are being allowed to remain here…” he shot a stern glance at Asta with that one, “…and more. Keeping control of a group that was formerly well organized and regulated seems to be what the humans would call ‘low-hanging-fruit’ as far as items on our agenda.”

  Ahia muttered something under her breath about how the angels needed to meet a guy named Jake if they wanted to see an organized group of shifters, then spoke up. “The wolf packs in Alaska have been fairly unregulated for centuries, living in peace beside the humans who know who and what they are. Werewolves are beings who like a structured, well-ordered existence, some more than others. I don’t think you need to worry about wolves running around harassing and killing humans. We police our own. And although many of us didn’t know Candy before a few months ago, she seems to be someone the angels can trust to set the rules and procedures that Nephilim and their descendants live by.”

  I looked at her in surprise, wondering if she was really an Angel of Chaos, or not. That speech sounded rather conciliatory for someone of my ilk.

  “Let’s keep a close eye on the situation and we’ll revisit the topic if problems arise.” Gregory turned to me. “Please tell your proxy, Candy, that we expect regular detailed reports regarding their rules, regulations, infractions, and punishments, as well as a list of exemplary individuals that we may wish to bring forward to the public in order to counter this negative publicity Ahia alluded to.”

  I liked Gregory so much better when he was not taking control and running things among the angels. Clearly Gabe being in charge as his puppet dictator had been a short-lived situation. I should have known my beloved could never hold back from being the boss for long.

  “Aye-aye captain.” I saluted. Candy would love this shit. She’d have enough reports and charts and Venn diagrams to make even Gabe happy.

  “Moving on.” Gabe shuffled a stack of papers that I was pretty sure were there just for show. “Elf Island. Progress?”

  “Progress,” Gregory replied. “We had an incident involving corruption with our employment placement contact, but that’s been resolved. We now have over two hundred elves that have cleared our program and are currently suitably employed. Our concern is monitoring their assimilation. We’ve put in place a program similar to the human parole system where the elves need to check in with a local Grigori enforcer who also will occasionally make a surprise visit to their home or workplace, but we don’t have enough angels to monitor all the elves once they are released from the island. It would be more than a full-time job for the existing numbers of Grigori to manage. So the issue we need to address is how long do the elves require this level of monitoring, and should we put together a special task force to do this under Grigori supervision or add to the ranks of Grigori?”

  “I think this is an ideal opportunity to put idle angelic hands to use,” Raphael spoke up. “The entirety of Aaru is now here among the humans. We can claim that this situation is one of the reasons we’re delaying their return to our homeland, and hopefully keep them busy enough that they don’t decide to start up the rebellion again.”

  “I know I would welcome the assistance,” Asta said. “I’ve got four elves working in Chicago right now, and have been told I’m slated to get another twenty to thirty before all this is over. There’s no way I can manage their progress and continue to ensure order and peace within my area of responsibility.”

  “I guess not, with all those sirens and mermaids running around,” I snarked. It had come up before that Asta was selectively allowing certain “creatures” who came through the rifts to remain in her territory. I thought it was hysterical, especially given that she was an Angel of Order, and couldn’t help mentioning it.

  “One siren.” She eyed me serenely. “Five mermaids, three selkies, and four-to-six nymphs because they come and go.”

  “What, no mermen?” Nyalla asked. “Are there even mermen? Is that a real thing?”

  Asta blinked and tilted her head. “I really don’t know. I’ll have to ask them. I’m assuming there must be mermen as they appear to be gendered. I mean, of course they are or they wouldn’t be called mermaids, they’d be called merbeings, or merthings, or something.”

  “Someone told me that they eat people,” Ahia said. “Is that true?”

  “Not on my watch, they don’t eat people,” Asta retorted. “If a drunk human falls off a sailboat and drowns, they’re welcome to him, but I draw the line at grabbing people off ships or luring in joggers along the lakefront.”

  Oh sheesh, we really were about to go down the rabbit hole on this one. As interested as I might be in the specific dining and sexual practices of mer-people, I wanted to get this meeting over with before my one-thousandth birthday.

  “I’m voting for a wait-and-see on the timeline for elven supervision,” I announced. “We can readdress the topic in five or so years. In the meantime, let’s assign an angel for every ten to fifteen elves in the workplace, and that angel will report to their local Grigori. Deal? Vote? I’m saying yes.”

  I stuck my hand in the air, ignoring all the surprised expressions around me. Yeah, yeah. I might be an imp, but I could do angel-speak when I had to.

  We voted. And for once something was actually unanimous.

  Gabe shuffled his papers again. “Next agenda item: increased demon activity at the gateways.”

  Hey, that was my topic
and as far as I knew I hadn’t added it to the agenda, preferring instead to spring these things on the Council mid-meeting. Had Beatrix ratted me out? No, it had to have been some other gate guardian spilling the beans on this one.

  “My guardians have reported a significant increase in attempted crossings,” Gregory said. “And they are not the usual Lows and imps either. Many high-level demons have been coming through. Successfully. I’ve had to shift enforcers to act as back-up ever since the gate guardian in Seattle was overrun by a dozen well-organized warmongers and nearly killed.”

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  “What? Oh, that is not my job.” It was, but I wasn’t going to admit to it easily. “I’m not responsible for gateways and that stupid fucking treaty you and some long-dead angels signed millions of years ago. In my opinion, they’re allowed to cross. The treaty doesn’t apply to them. And they’re not my problem.”

  “Yes, we know. The Grigori will continue to handle trespassers, but as the Iblis, we are looking to you for guidance on any plot that may exist in Hel to mount a large-scale attack, or perhaps some sort of organized effort to relocate among the demons,” Gregory explained.

  I remembered Harkel’s comments. There probably were more demons sneaking through now than a year ago, but that was to be expected. The angels had been busy with their own matters. The elves had been a distraction. If anyone wanted to vacation here among the humans, now was the time to do it. But large-scale attack? The only large-scale attack planned was the Ancients’ plans to move on Aaru. Allegedly planned, because although Harkel had seemed to be telling the truth, he was still a warmonger who might have his own reasons for lying about such a thing.

  “What, organized like the Elven exodus?” I snorted. “Hardly. We’re not relocating. Demons like it in Hel. We come here to vacation. Of course there’s an increase in activity. We’re not stupid. We know the angels are somewhat inattentive at the moment. Someone got wind that you angels were a bit busy with your own shit and decided now was a good time to promote tourism. It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’ll all be okay.”