Queen of the Damned

by Debra Dunbar

  Heading back into the house, I grabbed Snip by the arm and pulled him into the kitchen where we could be private. I noticed that the bulgy-eyed Low, Gimlet, was still there and trailing along behind us. I wasn’t sure whether his presence was due to Snip keeping an eye on him as I’d said, or Gimlet had decided that catching a free ride to party on my dime was an awesome idea.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I turned to face the two Lows.

  “A party!” Gimlet announced.

  “I can see that, but why are there hundreds of Lows here? Party in Hel, at any of my three houses. Don’t haul half the population across the gates. Whose brilliant fucking idea was this?”

  “Mine!” Snip grinned, clearly pleased at what he considered to be my praise.

  In my annoyed state I’d forgotten two important things—Lows can only process one question at a time, and they had no sense whatsoever of sarcasm.

  “Why?” I demanded.

  “Because they’re scared and nowhere is safe in Hel. Some of us aren’t sure about Cheros being part of our household now. She swears she won’t hurt us, but she looks at us funny. And now that she says she won’t take any more of us if we’re in your household, all the Lows want to be in your household. And just in case she’s lying, they all came here because it’s too much work for her to cross the gate and drag Lows back to Hel.”

  Shit. “Snip, I can’t admit all these Lows into my household.”

  “Why not?” Gimlet leaned against the fridge. “Aren’t you the Iblis? The ruler of Hel? Technically they’re all in your household anyway.”

  “That’s different.” I struggled to suddenly explain why it was different and realized that I couldn’t. “Snip, you’ve got to get these Lows back to Hel. I don’t have enough room for them here. County zoning is going to kill me. My neighbors are going to kill me. They’re already pissed off because of the demon hitmen, the angel hitmen, the elves, the dragon—fuck, these Lows need to go home!”

  Gimlet snorted. “The Iblis is afraid of her neighbors and the county zoning people?”

  “I’m not afraid of them,” I shot back. “I’m busy. I’m too fucking busy to deal with their human shit.”

  “Busy doing what? It’s not like you’re running Hel or anything.”

  I opened my mouth to tell Gimlet about the non-stop Ruling Council meetings, the humans with crappy credit scores, the four-nine-five reports, the monsters coming through the rifts, the elves, the werewolves, the Fallen, the angels locked out of Aaru…

  Just let it happen.

  The irritation and stress fell from me like shedding a robe, leaving me naked and feeling gloriously free. Why was I fighting against the very chaos I’d set in motion? Let the monsters come, let the rifts happen, let the angels deal with the elves and the werewolves deal with the werewolves and let the rest of it just happen.

  “You’re the Iblis,” Gimlet continued. “You’re in charge of Hel and the demons. Isn’t that the job? I seriously thought that was the job, not humans and werewolves, and elves, and reports.”

  Had he read my mind? How the fuck had a Low read my mind?

  “There’s a lot of meetings she has to go to,” Snip defended me. “I mean a lot of meetings. Those Ruling Council angels are always having meetings. They’re locked in a room for hours and hours with hard chairs and the thermostat stuck on sixty-five and only stale coffee and cheap pastries to eat and drink. It’s torture.”

  “Sometimes there’s bacon,” I grudgingly admitted. “But that’s not the issue here. My house is overflowing with Lows and they need to go back to Hel.”

  Snip and Gimlet stared at me. I stared back.

  “Fine. Temporary. This is a temporary vacation. I’ll rescue Sinew, Booty, and Lash, and tell this Tasma guy he needs to knock it the fuck off. Then I’ll talk to Cheros and tell her that all Lows are off the table.”

  “Off the table? Can I have them on the floor? Or stretched on a rack? Or submerged in boiling oil?”

  The two Lows spun around, then darted to hide behind me. Cheros stood at the entrance to the kitchen, gazing around with a smug look of satisfaction on her face. She was in a human form, but even that looked somewhat lizard-like with rough, scaly greenish skin. I had an urge to offer her a giant bottle of moisturizer and tell her to hit the tanning bed.

  “You’ve got a real nice place here, Iblis,” the demon commented. “Hope your guesthouse is just as nice because I’ll be staying there tonight. We have to go back to Hel first thing in the morning, because I had a brilliant idea. Can you act like a Low? I need you pretend to be a Low, or this is just not gonna work.”

  Ugh, I just came from Hel. But that Gimlet dude was right, I needed to get this done or I’d end up with tens of thousands of Lows camped out at my house.

  “She’s an imp.” Gimlet’s voice was muffled since he was pressed to my back, trying to hide from the other demon. “It’s not like she’d need to pretend a whole lot to be a Low. She’s one step away from one as it is.”

  I was starting to hate Gimlet. “Actually, it is a special talent of mine. I can clamp down my energy signature. I’ve walked right past archangels and had them think that I was a human. That’s how good I am.”

  “Yeah,” Snip chimed in. “Only the most powerful demons can pretend like that and get away with it. It’s the ultimate lie. Mistress is the best. She’s the most powerfulest, devouring, lying demon there ever was, that’s why she’s the Iblis.”

  I was the Iblis because the sword decided I was the Iblis. I appreciated Snip being my cheerleader though, even if he was doing it so he wouldn’t get in trouble for letting hundreds of Lows in my house and property.

  “Good.” Cheros grinned. “Then get your Low on, Iblis, because I’ve got a plan, and if you can pull this off, you should be able to get Sinew, Booty, and Lash back.”

  “I’m not just getting those three Lows back,” I told her. “I’m getting them all back. Every single one of them.”

  “‘Bout’ damned time,” Gimlet mumbled.

  Chapter 14

  “Cockroach, there are hundreds of Lows coming through the Columbia Mall gateway. Hundreds. And every one of them is claiming to be in your household. Beatrix isn’t sure what to do with them.”

  Gregory had appeared in my kitchen not an hour after I’d arrived home. I’d been about to text him and ask him to come over, but had struggled with how to word my message. I need to ask you about the battle where you nearly killed your brother didn’t seem like a good choice. Neither did Come over ASAP so I can accuse you of having done something terrible to your brother millions of years ago. I was glad he’d visited on his own, even if he was scowling at me and being the grumpy, somewhat distant angel he’d been since I’d ejected everyone from Aaru.

  “I know, I know.” I put on a pot of coffee because that’s what I always did when Gregory came over, although lately he never seemed to stay long enough to drink a cup. “I spoke to Beatrix just now and called a few Ubers. If they keep coming, I’ll need to charter a bus or something. I’ve got no fucking idea where I’m going to put them all. The guest house isn’t going to hold all these Lows. They’re already setting up makeshift tents in the fields and cots in my basement. I wonder if the Holiday Inn Express would give me a discount.”

  “Why are they all coming here?” Gregory demanded. “Why can’t they stay in Hel? When I told you that your household had immunity and could freely cross from Hel, I meant those of your household that were needed to complete your duties as part of the Ruling Council. And don’t try to tell me that you need hundreds of Lows here to assist you.”

  “I don’t, but they’re panicking right now and trying to join my household in droves. There’s an ancient demon named Tasma who is gathering them up. No one knows if he’s killing them or just torturing them or what, but he’s grabbed a dozen or two in the past week. I’m working on the situation, but all the Lows are too scared to stay in Hel right now.”

  “So kill Tasma. Or punish him. I
f he’s violated one of your rules in Hel, then you need to take him to task for it. Cockroach, you cannot let these infractions slide. It will only make you look weak in the eyes of your subjects.”

  How funny that Gregory thought I had subjects.

  “It’s on my agenda. Tomorrow morning I’m heading back to Hel to take care of this Tasma, then I can start booting these Lows out of my house.”

  “Why do they even need to come here?” he demanded. “Make these Lows part of your household and mark them, so they’ll be safe in Hel, but don’t give them a pass to come here en masse. Just mark them as yours and no one will dare take them.”

  We’d been together years and he still didn’t understand how things worked, or didn’t work, in Hel. “This Tasma guy had three of my marked Lows taken, one right off my front porch. I’ve got that to stop, I think, but the Lows are worried my household mark won’t be enough if I’m not physically in Hel to protect them. That’s why they’re coming here.”

  The angel’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Someone disrespected your household mark? And they’re still alive?”

  “Tasma is an Ancient,” I countered. “I can’t just waltz in there and dust him with my sword. I have to be sneaky. And maybe bargain or something. Drop a piano on the guy from the window of a tall building. Or, an anvil.”

  “This is why you have so many problems in Hel, Cockroach. You can’t be sneaking around and dropping pianos and anvils, and it shouldn’t matter whether this demon is an Ancient or not. He broke the rules. Punish him.”

  Times like this I wish I was an angel. Well, no I didn’t, but it certainly would make things a whole lot simpler. Got a sword? You’re the boss! Instant obedience.

  “It’s easier for you guys,” I complained. “Even the rebel angels want to follow rules—they just want to follow different rules or follow them with a greater strictness than you do. Demons don’t want to follow rules. And I really don’t want to enforce rules either. Hel is kind of an anarchy. Actually, there’s no ‘kind of’. Hel is an anarchy. We have some basic structure so that everyone knows what will get you ganged up on and eviscerated, and what you can get away with, but each demon takes care of protecting their own and coming down on those who don’t respect their household or their stuff.”

  “Are these Lows yours or not?” Gregory demanded. “Not just the ones with your household mark, but all of them? As denizens of Hel, do they belong to you as the Iblis?”

  Fuck. “Yes, they are.”

  “Times like this I wish I was a demon,” he muttered. “Take care of this Tasma Ancient. Either he stops trying to kidnap the Lows, or you kill him. See? Simple. And you didn’t need twelve meetings and a six-hundred-page document to get it done either like you would if you were in charge of a choir of angels.”

  Kill Tasma. Oh how easy…if I were a six-billion-year-old archangel instead of a fairly young imp with a few icky talents and a stupid disobedient sentient sword.

  “In the meantime, you have between one and three hundred Lows here, possibly more on the way. What are you planning on doing with them? And I’m not talking about lodging.” Gregory scowled at me.

  “It’s just for a night or two until I take care of Tasma, then they’re going back to Hel,” I told him.

  He raised an eyebrow. And waited. Because he knew as well as I did that it was going to be very difficult to get hundreds of excited vacationing Lows to cut their fun short and go home.

  “Fine.” I blew out a breath. “I can use them. We might need them to fight the rebel angels if they act up. Or the elves if whatever indoctrination you’re doing doesn’t stick. Or maybe we can send them out to handle the rifts.”

  “Lows can’t detect rifts, or so you told me. And I can’t see a Low demon fighting the monsters that come through them.”

  “I could use them to help with the non-credit-worthy humans.” I was really grasping at straws here, but I did need to find something for these Lows to do or they would destroy my place and probably half the state as well.

  “Just make sure they follow the rules.”

  Right. Like that was going to happen. “I put Snip in charge of them.”

  He sighed and eyed the coffee. “Fine. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you—”

  “Wait!” I reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his polo shirt before he could gate away. “I need to talk to you. There are…things I need to ask you. And tell you.”

  He stood there for a moment, then looked down at where my hand was crushing the fabric of his shirt. “Yes?”

  He wasn’t making this easy for me at all. And worse, there was nowhere private in my house for us to have any sort of conversation. Ahia and Nyalla were still swapping books. The werewolves and Nephilim and that vampire were still in the dining area. A few Lows had snuck back in and were firing up Call of Duty on my Xbox.

  “Walk with me.” I turned and lead the way out the French doors, past my covered pool and the stables and down through the field to a small copse of trees, the leaves still yellow-green and clinging to their branches even though it was early fall.

  “I’ve yet to discover any significant plot for a large group of demons to descend on the human world.” I turned to face him just as the moon came out, filtering through the spaces in the trees and lighting our surroundings to shades of gray. “Although with most of my Lows this side of the gate, my intelligence gathering ability in Hel is a bit compromised. I’ll make sure I assign, which means bribe, some unaffiliated demons to keep an eye on it for me, and let you know what I find.”

  He nodded. “That’s acceptable. And?”

  “The Ancients in Hel are indeed awake, and there is a plot to move on Aaru, but no definitive date or plan of attack has yet been determined. They are still trying to figure out who their leader is, and that may take some time.”

  “I told you, Cockroach, that they cannot enter Aaru. They were banished. And on top of that, you also banished them. Doubly banished. Those Ancients can plan all they want, they are not entering the gates of heaven.”

  “Yeah, well they think differently.” I kicked a stone with my foot. “I spoke with an Ancient by the name of Doriel, and she says that there was an event that happened recently that caused them all to suddenly sense that they now had the means to enter Aaru.”

  Gregory froze.

  “And I didn’t banish them,” I added. “My banishment was specific to the angels. I’ll admit that I don’t know the details, or know yet how to reverse it, but I do know it included all of the Angels of Order. Every angel allowed in Aaru was banished, and that seemed to include me as well. I’m assuming it also included Ahia as she’s a true angel, but I’m positive it didn’t include the Ancients. I’ve never considered them angels, really, so whatever I did during that battle, in my moment of fear and rage where I thought I’d lost you forever, didn’t include them. They are banished by your edict only, and they feel deep within their spirit-selves that they are either now free of that banishment, or that they have the means to free themselves.”

  “You undid my banishment?”

  I winced at the note of fury in his voice, remembering Doriel’s story of that last battle. If he could almost kill the brother he’d deeply loved, then his love for me could so easily turn to hate as well.

  “I don’t know. The timing of this seems to coincide with my banishing of the angels, but Ancients aren’t very good at determining when specific events occur.”

  Gregory was sometimes the same way. I assumed that when a being lived for millions, or billions of years, the margin of error in remembering when an event occurred was often in the centuries, if not millennia.

  The angel turned and took a few steps away, running a hand through his copper curls before turning back to face me. “She’s lying. She has to be lying.”

  “She’s not lying. At least, not about that.” I paused, but he didn’t take the bait.

  “Who is this leader they seek? You? Do they expect the Iblis to lead the charge into Aar
u?” His voice made me feel like skin scraping against asphalt after coming off a bike.

  “Well, they’d be disappointed, because I can’t get into Aaru.” I took a step toward him. “I’ve tried. Don’t you know I’ve tried? And if I could get in, it would be with you by my side, not a bunch of Ancients and their armies of demons.”

  “You’re the Queen of Hel, the Iblis. They are your subjects.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, tell that to them. I’m not a leader, I’m a disrupter. What I want to know is the possibility of this happening. Can these Ancients ascend into Aaru? Is there a way around the banishment beyond this redemption/forgiveness bullshit you spouted off in the Ruling Council meeting?”

  He thought carefully. “No. But as you’ve proven to me over and over in the last two years, I can be wrong. There are things I don’t see, that I’m blind to. You are my eyes to those things. So if you see the truth in Doriel’s words, if you see the possibility, then I believe you.”

  I caught my breath. That was the closest he’d come to reaching out to me in a while. Sucked that I was about to smack that tiny olive branch down and crush it under my foot.

  “Do you know Doriel?”

  He nodded. “She and Samael were close. She was more moderate than many Angels of Chaos. I respected her knowledge and skills.”

  “Was she truthful?”

  Gregory shrugged. “Angels of Chaos lie, but Doriel tended to lie less than most of them.”

  “She told me a story.” I paused, my eyes searching his face in the dim moonlight. “A story about that last battle in Aaru, the battle where you banished them all and consigned them all to Hel.”

  He flinched, but said nothing.

  “She told me that Samael had prevailed, that he’d nearly taken your wings and in the moment when you were vulnerable and open before him, he stepped back. He refused to deliver that final killing blow.”