Queen of the Damned (Imp Series Book 9)

by Debra Dunbar

  “There are no fucking angels in Aaru,” I snapped for the gazillionth time. “Even if you had gotten in, you wouldn’t have gotten any wings or stabbed anyone. Well, unless you were stupid enough to attack one of the Ancients.”

  “I’ll never get more wings,” Hammer complained. Then he straightened, a shrewd expression in his narrowed eyes as he looked over at Bencul.

  “Try it and your flayed body will be decorating my walls,” I warned him. “I’m not fucking joking either.”

  “Not while he’s here. Not while he’s a guest in your house.” Hammer smiled. “But Remiel will reclaim him, and once the Ancient gets bored of his angel-toy, that pretty-boy’s wings are mine.”

  I needed to get Bencul out of here. Where the fuck was Remiel? Hadn’t he realized his boy-toy was missing?

  “I’m going out for a bit,” I told Hammer and the others. “That angel’s well-being is on your heads. If I find so much as a blister on him, I’m getting out the sword. Understand?”

  They grumbled, but made the appropriate vows. Once I was sure that none of my household members were going to take liberties with my guest, I teleported out of there, and into the seventh circle of Aaru. Well, not really the seventh circle because I had banished myself. Instead I materialized in that weird courtyard just outside the limits of Aaru, where I could feel the nastiness of heaven without being thrown back into Hel.

  There was no one in the courtyard, so I yelled as loudly as I could, then got out my sword and waved it around, hoping I was making enough of a disturbance in the force that someone inside Aaru could hear me.

  No Ancients answered my call, but eventually I saw a few demons making their way toward me.

  “Iblis!” I recognized the hippo-gecko demon as one of Remiel’s household. “Why are you not inside Aaru? Remiel assumed you had gone to claim the fifth choir, but here you are.”

  Yes, here I was. “There’s an issue and I need to talk to Remiel. But he needs to come out here or come back to Hel to talk to me.”

  Hippo-gecko scowled. “He’s rather preoccupied right now. I’ll take a message to him if you’ll agree to wait here and transport me back to Hel.”

  Suddenly all the demons were moving in close to me, every one of them promising me favors if I would agree to transport them back to Hel. I wasn’t surprised. I hated Aaru, and none of the demons that had been there for the battle had any interest at all in staying. We liked our corporeal forms. And I suspected these demons might not be able to shed them and live anyway. Staying in Aaru would dramatically shorten their lifespan if they couldn’t exist as beings of spirit.

  I had nothing against these demons and would have gladly transported them for free, but I’m no fool. There was no sense in refusing an offered favor. “Everyone goes back to Hel, but only when Remiel comes out here and has a chat with me. Five minutes. And technically he doesn’t even have to leave Aaru.”

  Hippo-gecko and a few other demons stomped their way back across the barrier, while the others stood awkwardly around, staring at the great nothingness that was Aaru.

  “This place sucks,” a third-degree-burn humanoid told me. “How do you stand it here? You’ve been up here a bunch of times, right?”

  “Yeah. It was fucking horrifying at first. I didn’t do a report and they stuck me in some kind of prison for a day and a half without my corporeal form and all my energy blocked.”

  Burn-demon sucked in a breath. “Did you die?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Does it look like I died?” I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d felt on the edge of death, that I’d screamed and cried and trembled, and that Gregory had, unbeknownst to me, been by my side the whole time, ensuring that no harm came to me. I’d experienced horrible things at the smoky hands of Ahriman, but those moments in Aaru had been the most terrifying of my life.

  “But angels really live up here? And like it?”

  “I know. I don’t understand it either. I hate this place.” I did, but Gregory loved it and I wanted him to call this his home once more. I wanted our children, if we ever had any, to call it their home as well. I might never feel comfortable here, but I wanted any offspring I formed to experience life as a being of spirit—a life that had been denied to me and every other demon in Hel.

  “I’m never coming here again,” another demon told me. “There’s a big contingent of demons that is planning a raid on the human world soon. Maybe I’ll go with them. There’s some kickass demon dude leading the charge. He guarantees we’ll get past the gate guardians and said he’ll take the heat from any angels who try to stop us.”

  I caught my breath. Was this what Harkel and Mestal had hinted at? Was this the huge attack on the human realm that the archangels had so feared?

  “Who is the demon dude in charge and when does he plan this…excursion? And what do you all plan to do once you get across the gates?” Was this just an organized vacation where the “kickass dude” collected a fee and once everyone was in the human world, they all headed off to do their own thing, or was it an organized attack that I needed to worry about?

  “No idea.” The demon in mongoose-goose form shrugged. “We’re supposed to just wait for the call and be ready.”

  Okay, that sounded like a scam. Some demon was collecting pre-payments and promising the vacation of a lifetime…eventually. He’d call once everything was in place. These demons just needed to pony up and be ready. Fools.

  “Cool. Sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll join you all.”

  The barrier to Aaru shimmered and I saw blurred, dark shapes. They materialized as six demons and Remiel. He looked like shit, as if someone had dropped him in a vat of acid and he was slowly melting away.

  “Why are you still out here?” he demanded.

  “Because I can’t get in. Neither can any Angels of Order. That’s why you found Aaru empty.”

  He shook his head. “Why? How?”

  “It’s a long story.” I waved my hand. “Bencul can’t get in either. He’s trapped in Hel without you. I’m keeping him safe at my place for now, but he wants you to come home.”

  Something softened in Remiel at the mention of his angel, but when I’d said “home” he stiffened.

  “Aaru is my home. I’m not going back to Hel. I’ll never go back to Hel.”

  Fuck. “Bencul can’t get into Aaru. Hopefully someday that will change, but right now he’s alone in Hel, and although he’d kill me for telling you, he’s scared.”

  Remiel’s face crumpled. “I want him here. I want him with me, but I’m not leaving Aaru. Someday I hope he can join me here.”

  I gaped. “You’re leaving him? Abandoning him? Dude, he needs you. You’ve been banished for two-and-a-half-million years. You can certainly hang out in Hel again for another decade or so until I can figure out how to get the angels back to Aaru.”

  Suddenly the Ancient was cold and distant. “I’m never going back. He knew that once I got to Aaru, I wouldn’t leave ever again. I hope one day he can rejoin me, but my love for my home is greater than my love for that angel.”

  That angel. My lip curled at his words. Gregory would never do this to me. Rafi would never do this to Ahia. Gabe would never do this to Nyalla, at least he better not or I’d fucking kill him. This wasn’t love. This was some twisted emotion easily shoved aside once there was a bump in the road. I hated Bencul, but at this moment, I felt deep sympathy for the angel.

  “Well you or one of your household needs to deliver that message, because I’m not,” I told the Ancient. “Do you have any protections in place for him? You do realize that right now he’s like a juicy bone in a den of starving lions?”

  Remiel blinked in surprise. “No, I don’t. I just assumed he would be with me up in Aaru. I guess he’ll need to find a new protector. Perhaps Tasma would like him.”

  I really wanted to pull my sword out and cut this guy to ribbons. The gall of him, handing Bencul over to some other Ancient like a used-up toy he no longer wanted. I wasn’t sure what I was goin
g to do with the angel, but I wasn’t about to deliver him to Tasma, or anyone else, with a bow on his head.

  “Piersel can deliver the message for me.” Remiel gestured to Hippo-gecko. “Perhaps he’d like Bencul for his own. Would you, Piersel?”

  I drew the demon’s gaze with my hard stare. The initial spark of excitement in his eyes faded. “Uh, no. I really don’t want the angel, Master. Thank you for thinking of me, though.”

  Remiel inclined his head and smiled. “Well, I wish him the best. Oh, and when you talk to Bencul, let him know that the thing he’s searching for won’t be found. I made sure of that before I left. He’ll just need to find someone else.”

  I could tell that Piersel was just as confused by that as I was, but the demon nodded and with a flash of light Remiel vanished back into Aaru proper, leaving me with a small army of demons at the edge of heaven.

  Chapter 27

  Bencul looked stunned as Piersel told him the news that Remiel was not returning, only to become enraged when the demon delivered the casual suggestion that he look him up if he ever was able to get to Aaru.

  “In the meantime, he suggests you find another protector.” Piersel shot me a quick, anxious look. “Not me. Tasma maybe, or one of the other Ancients.”

  “I’m not going through all that pain and agony a second time, trying to woo some rotted, devolved corpse of an Angel of Chaos,” Bencul snapped. “If Remiel doesn’t want me, fine, but he needs to return something to me. He’s got something of mine and I want it.”

  I motioned for Piersel to get it all over with. Might as well rip that Band-Aid right off and deliver the rest of Remiel’s message.

  “Yeah, he said to tell you that you won’t find it, that he made sure to get rid of it before he left. He said you’d just need to find someone else.”

  “Did he hide it or destroy it?” The angel made as though he were about to grab Piersel, then thought better of it. “What did Remiel say exactly? Destroyed? Or just hidden?”

  My mind immediately thought of all the precious things that Remiel might have given to Bencul, only to hide from him. An elf button to transport him across the gates into the human world? Something to protect him from the attack of others? An artifact that could increase a demon’s, or angel’s, power?

  Piersel shrugged. “He said he got rid of it, that you wouldn’t find it. That makes me think that he didn’t destroy whatever it is.”

  Bencul’s roar of rage shook the room. I was surprised the walls didn’t crumble to dust under his anger. “That worm. That deceitful, lying, oath-breaking worm. That decaying sack of offal.”

  “Yeah, Remiel’s a fucking dick,” I agreed. He wasn’t the only one who was pissed. What the fuck was I going to do with this angel? I couldn’t bring him back over the gates. He knew too much—things I didn’t want the general population of angels to know. Plus I didn’t want him deciding he wanted his Nephilim son back, or wanting to avenge himself on me or Harper once he got his angel buddies to act as back-up. No, I didn’t want to bring him across the gates yet, but I could hardly keep him safe here. Yes, I was the Iblis, but how long before someone decided to try their luck and risk my ire to snatch an angel from my house? I’d need to be here full time to guard him, and I couldn’t stay in Hel twenty-four seven with my responsibilities in the human world.

  “So, are there any Ancients you think you might be able to tolerate?” I asked the angel. “Or a high-level demon since most of the Ancients seem to have decided to stay in Aaru?”

  Bencul glared at me. “What are you, my pimp? Am I going to be given away to a demon as a slave? Am I to trade my physical form to him or her for a promise of safety?”

  I winced. “You can stay here, but I can’t be here all the time to protect you. I can’t guarantee you’ll always be safe. It might be better with a demon who intends on remaining in Hel.”

  “I can take care of myself,” the angel snapped. “I’m not a complete weakling. I can take most demons one-on-one. As long as they don’t gang up on me, I’ll be fine.”

  “Then you can stay here,” I told him. “Just don’t leave the house, especially at night. Demons tend to roam in bands, and I don’t want to find eight of them have roasted you on a spit for dinner.”

  “I’m not staying here.” The angel walked over and looked out the window to the street below. “I need to leave.”

  “I can’t protect you out there,” I warned.

  Bencul walked over and put his hand on Piersel’s shoulder. “Can you take another message to Remiel? Tell him that I beg of him to tell me where it is. That if he ever had any love for me at all, he’ll tell me where it is.”

  Piersel shrugged the angel off. “I’m not doing shit for you. I hate that place. The only way I’d ever go back there is if Remiel commanded it of me.”

  Bencul’s enraged scream nearly burst my eardrums. “No! I can’t lose him. Not now, not after I’ve given up everything I have, everything for him. I can’t lose him.” He reached out and grabbed the demon’s shoulders. “You go back to Aaru and tell Remiel he needs to return to Hel right now. He can’t do this to me. Not after everything I’ve done for him. He can’t do this to me.”

  The drama was getting a bit thick in here. I pushed Bencul back, stepped between them, then turned to the angel. “I’m sorry, but Remiel has made it clear he’s not leaving Aaru. This is a shit situation, but throwing a tantrum isn’t going to do any good.”

  Bencul shimmered, glowing around the edges of his physical form. “That nasty worm of a banished angel. That piece of cow dung. I hope he dies up there. I hope he dies.”

  Yes, he probably would. And I felt horrible that Remiel had chosen to die in Aaru rather than live down here with an angel he loved. I put out a hand to give Bencul a consoling pat, and he slapped it away.

  “I trusted him. I loved him. He was supposed to take me with him. We were supposed to be in Aaru together. All of us. Together. And now he’s abandoned me to this horrible place. He’s left me. And I don’t know where he is. He’ll die. And Remiel won’t care one bit because his end of the deal is done. He’ll die.”

  I frowned in confusion. Was Bencul losing his mind? He knew where Remiel was—the Ancient was in Aaru. And yes, he would probably die if he could no longer manage to exist without a corporeal form. But I got the feeling that wasn’t all Bencul was upset about. He’ll die. And Remiel won’t care one bit because his end of the deal is done. Remiel had hidden something away from Bencul, something the angel wanted. But that “it” had suddenly become a “he” in the angel’s rants.

  “What was Remiel’s end of the deal?” I asked.

  Bencul turned to me and I saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes. “None of your business. That was between us.”

  I mulled that over as he demanded again that Piersel take a message to Remiel, then demanded that the demon tell him what Ancients were here in Hel that he might be able to get one of them to take a message to Remiel.

  Bencul loved the Ancient, but there was something he loved more and it wasn’t Aaru. Yes, he wanted to go home, but he didn’t seem ready to off himself because that looked like it was forever denied to him. He wanted Remiel to come back. And more importantly, he wanted Remiel to tell him where something was.

  It all clicked. Like puzzle pieces, everything snapped together. And that was a freaking miracle because when it came to subtleties I wasn’t always the first one in the room to figure things out.

  “I’ll be back,” I told the two who weren’t paying any attention to me whatsoever. Then I left. And went straight to Tasma’s house.

  I beat on the door until someone finally answered it and realized that I wasn’t going to go away until I saw Tasma. Then I sat in the room with the fluffy pink pillows and tiaras, waiting. It all made sense. Bencul had said there was one being in the world that he truly loved. One. That he would gladly sacrifice the rest for him. I’d thought he’d been referring to Remiel. I’d thought all along he’d been referring to Remiel. Yes,
he loved the Ancient, but there was someone he loved more. Someone he’d needed Remiel to create. Someone whose existence made him no longer care about the Nephilim he’d made with Harper. Someone who Remiel had hidden away because sometimes you don’t actually trust the person you love not to stab you in the back at the end of the day.

  Tasma walked in the room.

  “Where’s the baby?” I demanded. “The angel. Where are you keeping the baby angel?”

  Her jerked to a halt. “Why would I have a baby? If I were to engage in a breeding incident, I would send the creation to a dwarven care facility with a trust fund, just like every other demon offspring in Hel.”

  “You have a dwarf here. I saw her last time I was here. Now, there’s no reason for you to be hanging out with dwarves unless you need childcare. We’re not buddies with them. They don’t join our households. They don’t come have dinner and party with us. And she didn’t exactly look like she was here to consult with you on custom weaponry.”

  He hesitated. “I’m ashamed to admit that I asked a dwarf to come and help me bring order and obedience in my household.”

  “Bullshit. You’re an Ancient. You can handle pretty much every demon in Hel. You certainly can handle a bunch of brainwashed Lows who want to do nothing more than eat pureed prunes, play with dolls, and have you pat them on the head. The only thing you can’t handle is a newly created demon who is erratic enough to burn your house to the ground the moment you turn your back on him.”

  Tasma straightened his sweater and looked me in the eye. “I don’t have any demon young here. I have no desire to spend every moment teaching them to control their abilities. If I were to breed, I would send that creation to a dwarven home where it belonged.”

  I took a menacing step forward. “No, you don’t have any demon young here, you’ve got an angel. That’s the favor Remiel asked of you, the one you needed to keep super-secret so that the sire didn’t find out and take away the only real leverage Remiel had over him. That’s why you have a dwarf secreted away in your house—because as difficult as demon young are to handle, angel young are worse. Now where is it? Where’s the angel?”