Queen of the Damned

by Debra Dunbar

  I should have realized that by my saying that, I was pretty much assuring that no one would ever think this was “nothing” or that “all would be okay”.

  Asta shook her head. “I turned back a warmonger a few months ago who tried to bargain information for his release. He said that an Ancient was going to cross over with over four hundred legions of demons. I’d thought he was lying, but now I wonder…are the banished planning on mounting an attack?”

  Great. This was all I needed right now.

  “No, he was lying. Demons lie, if you haven’t realized that yet,” I scoffed. “If an Ancient, or a group of Ancients ever got off their lazy asses to do anything, it wouldn’t be to come here,” I scoffed. “The only thing that would get them moving would be if they had a chance to take Aaru back. It’s Aaru they want, not some place overrun with humans and elves where they still have to be in a corporeal form. Trust me, they’re not going anywhere.”

  “They can’t get into Aaru,” Gregory reminded me. “I’m not worried about an attack on heaven.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Because everyone is locked out and it’s all my fault.” I was getting tired of having my nose constantly rubbed in this one.

  “It’s not that, Cockroach. They were banished. You were allowed in Aaru as the Iblis, and I had to use some creative interpretation of the treaty to allow you to bring your demon forces in for the battle, but an army led by an Ancient won’t be able to get in even if we weren’t all locked out. The banishment is ironclad.”

  It probably was, Gregory’s smug insistence that he’d properly done this banishment made me think once more about how I’d fucked everything up.

  “I’ve heard they found a loophole.” I shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t do such a great job as you think. Maybe you should be grateful that I locked everyone out and you don’t have to deal with a few hundred legions of Ancients and demons busting in the back door.”

  Gregory glared at me. “I did not allow any ‘loopholes’.”

  “Even for Samael?” He flinched at the name. “You admitted that you built the gates in the hope that he’d return here to neutral ground to attempt a reconciliation.”

  “We built the gates nearly five hundred thousand years after the war,” he snapped back. “At the time of the banishment, I was not interested in any future reconciliation.”

  He’d been seriously injured fighting his brother. He’d nearly sliced the other angel in half with his sword. I’d seen Gregory lose his temper before, knew that he could do things he’d regret later. Maybe he had meant the banishment as a finality, but there was always a loophole. There was always a little spot somewhere that could be worried away and made to unravel the whole thing.

  Well, always except it seems for the banishment I’d done.

  “Banishments are never forever.” Gabe’s voice didn’t have the usual arrogant, judgmental tones as he spoke this time to Gregory. “There was always a chance for redemption, for forgiveness and a reinstatement that would allow penitent Angels of Chaos back into Aaru. As ridiculous as the idea is, it is possible.”

  Gregory’s eyebrows shot up. “Ridiculous is the appropriate word, brother. A Fallen, an Angel of Chaos, who repents? And then is granted forgiveness? It would never happen.”

  “So it would have to be an Ancient, right?” I pressed, trying to figure this out. If I could see the loopholes for reentry in the banishment Gregory had done, maybe I could find the ones in my own. “Not a demon? So, like, if Dar wanted to get into Aaru, and Asta forgave him, the banishment for him would be lifted and he could get in?”

  There were a whole lot of significant glances that I didn’t understand. For once I wasn’t alone, because Ahia and Nyalla clearly didn’t know what the heck was going on either.

  “Dar could enter as part of your household if you brought him,” Gregory explained. “Although now Dar would be denied entry because you included yourself in your own banishment, and that rolls onto him as well. The banishment I put in place was similar. Under that banishment, an Ancient, as you call them, would need to repent and be granted forgiveness, then that would apply to all the demons in his household.”

  That was the loophole. “So Samael repents, because it’s been almost three fucking million years, and an Angel of Order forgives him, and he gets in?”

  “Samael’s dead.” Gregory’s voice was rough, raw with pain and anger. “He’s dead. And even if he wasn’t, he’d never repent. And without repentance, there would be no forgiveness.”

  “Okay, then some other angel. Like…. Stupid-Ancient-el angel.”

  Ahia snorted, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Hypothetically,” I added. I knew I was probably going to have to deal with these Ancients, but I didn’t want to do it now. Or in the next century or two. And there would be no need for me to deal with them if there was no way for them to get into Aaru at the moment.

  “Hypothetically, yes,” Raphael told me. “But they wouldn’t repent. And there’s no Angel of Order in existence that would forgive them. Plus, just in case it’s slipped your mind, you banished everyone. As far as I know, a banished Angel of Order can’t override your edict. So even if one of us snuggles up to a repentant Ancient and grants forgiveness, I doubt he’d be able to get in.”

  Whew that was a relief.

  “Good. Then we don’t have to worry about the Ancients and a few thousand demons storming into an empty Aaru and taking up residence.” I was so thrilled. And now I could truly sit back and enjoy watching powerful, arrogant Ancient demons bashing their fists against a door that wouldn’t open. “And, just for the record, there is no proof at all that tens of thousands of demons eager for vacation are descending upon the human world.”

  Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last part. Gabe’s eyes widened. Asta sucked in a breath. Raphael and Ahia exchanged concerned glances.

  “We need to immediately move to defend the gateways,” Gregory demanded. “Each of you is to pledge five of the most trustworthy, the strongest angels of your choir to ensure these demons do not bring their armies into this realm.”

  “What if the Ancients still have retained the ability to form their own gateways?” Gabe asked. “If they assist these demons, or even decide to lead them, then they could appear anywhere, at any time. We need to be ready to defend this world at a moment’s notice.”

  “The timing of this is terrible.” Raphael shook his head. “We’re weakened just coming off the recent battles, and many of our choir are not skilled in fighting in corporeal form. Actually, they’re not skilled at anything in corporeal form. Did I tell you that I had to rescue a member of my choir who wandered into a dwelling and was unable to leave? I had to teleport in to teach him how to turn a doorknob.”

  “He couldn’t teleport himself out?” Asta asked, her eyes big. “Was the building lined in lead and surrounded by a salt circle with runes? I’ll admit I still have great difficulty in managing to navigate revolving doors.”

  Great. I’d now just inadvertently convinced the entirety of the Ruling Council that the Ancients and demons in Hel were mounting an attack. As in right now, grab your swords, kind of attack.

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “Cockroach, you employ your household in Hel to collect intelligence on this matter. We need names, current rank, as well as the number of legions they command, plus where and when they plan to attack and any strategies they might employ. I’ll put two guardians at each gate. We will meet again in five days for a status update.”

  “That’s not necessary. I—”

  “Excellent idea,” Raphael interrupted. “Five days? Here? Same rodent time, same rodent channel?”

  “It’s bat time and bat channel,” Ahia corrected him.

  I shut up because it wasn’t like anyone was listening to me anyway.

  “Actually, I propose that we vary the location of our meetings to increase visibility among the humans,” Gabriel announced. “We should also take human transportation to
arrive there whenever possible, and spend time before and after the meetings walking about among the humans in our full glory.”

  There was a long shocked silence following his pronouncement.

  “Excellent,” Gabe continued. “Since there is no objection, I propose our next meeting to take place in Reykjavik. It will serve a dual purpose of reassuring the humans there of our presence as well as warning the elves they’ve elected to public office that we’re closely watching their actions.”

  Nyalla shot him an approving glance. No, it was more than approving. Damn it, I’d told her what a complete dick this angel was, and here she was eyeing him like she admired and supported him. Although, come to think of it, the suggestion was absolutely in line with what I wanted to see happen. Gabe and I never agreed on anything. What the fuck was going on here?

  “Who are you and what have you done with Gabriel?” I demanded.

  “I’m not flying on an airplane,” Raphael announced.

  “Iceland? I’m so excited.” Ahia squealed. Then she punched Raphael in the arm. “And you are too flying on an airplane. I’ve never been on a commercial jet before, and you’re coming with me. Maybe we can join the human-style mile-high club. Won’t it be fun to fuck in an airplane?”

  I liked this angel. “It’s really not that much fun to fuck in an airplane,” I told her. “Cut his arms and legs off and it won’t be so crowded. Or better yet, just cut his dick off and take it in there without the body.”

  “No one is cutting my dick off.” Raphael scowled at the idea.

  “Why are you suddenly so concerned about making our presence known among the humans?” Gregory asked his brother, getting to the heart of the matter.

  “They already know about us. When the entire angelic host drops down from Aaru among them, they’re hardly going to look the other way. It’s been all over the news and the internet and the papers.” Gabe looked around at all of us. “What? You don’t keep abreast of top stories and world politics? For shame! How are we to be good stewards of this world if we don’t stay aware of current events? I do apologize, brother, for not having realized the extent of the situation down here,” he told Gregory. “Clearly we tasked you with something far beyond the ability of one archangel and a handful of Grigori to manage.”

  “Are you saying I haven’t been performing to your satisfaction?” Normally such an accusation would have resulted in a glowing, pissed-off Gregory, but instead the archangel looked shocked.

  “No, of course not.” Gabriel’s tone was both soothing and condescending. “So many of our brethren are wandering around the human world, lost and confused. It doesn’t inspire confidence. And those who were rebels in Aaru will most likely work against our interests here as well, once they get used to being in corporeal form. It’s important for us to establish order and rule of law now, before that happens. We’re clearly going to be here for a long time…” he cast me a glowering look, “…if not forever. Let’s make a refreshing tart drink from the sour fruit we have been given, and use this as an opportunity to finally put humanity on the path to positive evolution.”

  “His body has been taken over by a motivational speaker.” I pointed at Gabe. “Dr. Phil? Steven Covey? No, Zig Ziglar.”

  I was a bit worried that Gabe’s speech hovered on the edge of benevolent dictator. So maybe it was Gabe in there after all and not some alien imposter pod-person.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Asta chimed in. “I suggest we begin to think of a framework of how to manage the situation.”

  Fuck me, I’d created a monster. How did I ever think it was a good idea to suggest Asta for the Ruling Council?

  “We’ve already begun by establishing rules concerning the elven integration,” Asta continued, “including a registry and punishments regarding inappropriate use of elven magic and failure to be an asset to society. It seems that Sam is doing the same with her werewolves and Nephilim.”

  No, I was not.

  “I’ve made strict guidelines for the mermaids, selkies, nymphs, and the siren living in Chicago.”

  “You were supposed to gather them together, send them through the gateway and lock it down.” Gregory scowled.

  Asta’s golden brown skin took on a pink tone. “Well, I have found them to be useful. And it seems they’ve been coming through naturally occurring rifts for thousands of years, unbeknownst to us, although usually into the oceans, not the freshwater lakes. I felt I had the need to grandfather in their presence somewhat.”

  “I’ve been thinking that the angels need to be open about their presence here,” Nyalla chimed in. “With monsters coming through the rifts, werewolves outed, elves working next to humans, and a potential army of demons descending upon us, it’s vital for humans to know they have someone to turn to—beings with the supernatural clout to protect them and assure them that their way of life will not be destroyed with all this change.”

  I was so glad I’d managed to get Nyalla on the Ruling Council.

  “Yeah,” Ahia did a fist-pump. “We’ll all fly commercial, rack up some bonus miles, then spend a few hours roaming the shopping district with our wings out, healing the sick, kissing babies, and buying shoes. I’m totally on board with this.”

  “All in favor?” Gabe asked with a smug smile.

  My hand shot up, as did Nyalla’s and Ahia’s and Rafi’s. With a soft, whispered “shopping”, Asta raised her hand.

  Gregory sighed. Then his hand also went up. “Fine. Reykjavik it is. And may the Creator help the poor humans who happen to be in the shopping district.”

  Chapter 6

  Hel felt…different. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the place sent a wave of sorrow through me. It used to be nostalgia I felt each time I journeyed home. I’d walk the broken streets of Dis and think about the time when I had been newly released from my dwarven caretakers and school, when it seemed like my only worries were to keep from getting killed, to not devour anyone, to claw my way through the hierarchy and Own as many souls as possible.

  All my Owned souls were gone, given up in a sentimental gesture when I thought I was dying, a last act of love, something Gregory had been pressing me to do. And as for my status…well, I had no fucking idea where I stood in the demon hierarchy. I was the Iblis. I held the sword. Technically I was the ruler of Hel, but the title hadn’t brought me any additional respect. I could stand on top of the rubble of Pamersiel’s house and wave the damned thing around and nobody would look twice at me, or give a shit. The few things that seemed to garner any attention among the other demons were my unsavory propensity for devouring, and the fact that I’d somehow managed to steal and integrate Gregory’s archangel essence into my being. It had given me my wings, changed me into an Angel of Chaos, and given me some additional skills, but it wasn’t those that intrigued the Ancients. All they wanted to know is how I’d done it, and if they could do the same.

  I had a bad feeling that it was tied up with my devouring. And I didn’t really want to let that secret out into the open. Ahriman had wanted to breed a powerful demon with my capacity to hold energy and my devouring skill, but he’d wanted to create a weapon capable of bringing Aaru to its knees, someone who could walk right through the door of heaven and start shredding angels, chewing up their spirit-selves and growing more powerful with every one. Normally that would be a self-limiting exercise—a demon could only hold so much energy, after all. A devouring spirit might top out after six or seven angels, then they’d be vulnerable, their most-feared weapon dull and unusable. But me…I seemed to have an unlimited storage capacity. Like some kind of weird black hole, I could devour until there was nothing left to consume.

  I’m not sure what would happen after that point, but I had a feeling it would probably result in a Big Bang, that would both take me out and restart creation.

  I’d always wondered if that was the apocalypse that Gregory had referred to. Was I truly fated to do that very thing? If so, I hoped it was a long, long way off
. I hoped that the ancient archangel was wrong, and that the sort of chaos, the apocalypse I was foretold to bring, was something very different.

  “Mistress!” I turned around to see Rutter and Snip. “I hoped to find you here, Mistress,” Snip told me. “I made the appointment you requested. Criam says to come tonight if you can, and you will be granted an audience.”

  I was surprised Criam remembered me, let alone actually arranged a meeting with the head of his household. As demons go, Criam was pretty fucking old. He was one of the first few generations of demons created after the banishment from Aaru, and had served the Ancient who formed him since the day he’d left his dwarven nannies. I’d come across him during an issue in Eresh with half a dozen trolls and a fire serpent, and we’d parted on good terms. It wasn’t often I parted with someone on good terms, so when Harkel told me about the Ancients awakening, Criam was the first demon I thought of.

  Still, it shocked the fuck out of me that my request for an audience had been granted. I couldn’t believe a chance association from three hundred years ago would buy me a meeting with one of the most powerful Ancients in Hel.

  “Thanks Snip. And while I’m here, I’ve got a few other tasks I need you and the household to handle for me.”

  Both Lows squealed and hopped up and down, excitedly slapping tentacles and claws. “New work? Are we having a party? Every time you come to Hel with work for us, we have a party.”

  I wasn’t sure when me returning to Hel and assigning work started equating to have-a-party.

  “Uh, sure. Actually, I need to have a household meeting for this one. Is everyone here in Dis, or at the Patchine house?”

  Ahriman had owned dwellings in both Dis and Patchine, as well as one up in Eresh that seemed to be vacant most of the time. When I’d killed him, I’d inherited all his shit including these houses-of-horror. Demon law was weird that way. My inheritance rights had been partly because I’d been the one who murdered the Ancient, partly due to the rights afforded me under our breeding contract, and partly because no one had bothered to challenge me for all this shit. Yet. Probably in a thousand years or so, some asshole would come out of nowhere and insist that I had no right to it. Then I’d need to decide whether to let him, or her, have it all or fight to the death for it. I’d most likely just let him have it.