by Debra Dunbar
He set his jaw. Before he could outright lie to me, I summoned my sword. The thing came, and for once it came in its full glory. It hummed and glowed. I felt the power coming off the weapon in waves. And in response, something inside me rose to the surface. My wings came from my back in a flash of dark light, I felt myself shimmer, my teeth sharpen to points, my eyes darken. In that moment the imp was gone and I stood before Tasma as an angel, as the Iblis.
He cringed. An Ancient cringed before me.
“You’re right. There is an angel baby, and Remiel asked me to keep it for him.”
I put the sword away. And my wings. And was thrilled to realize my teeth and eyes had gone back to normal. “Why you? Why not just stick it in one of a thousand dwarven group homes?”
He looked at me as if I were an idiot. “Because it’s an angel. And he didn’t want his toy getting any ideas about snatching it and running off.”
Made sense. “Take me to it,” I told Tasma.
He teleported us, and in a flash we were in a small, windowless room that I was pretty sure was a few hundred feet underground at a minimum. In the room was a female dwarf who was stacking blocks. Next to her was what looked like a demon with a lizard’s body, a lion’s tail, and a bull’s head. Young are given their first form by their creator—in this case, Remiel. He’d given his offspring a typical demon form, one that would fit in with just about any other newly created demon in Hel. But in spite of its form, this clearly wasn’t a demon.
The baby was fixing the dwarf’s tower of blocks so they were perfectly aligned, each block a pleasingly contrasting color from the one below and the one above it. Even if I couldn’t tell from the energy coming off the infant, those actions were enough to let me know that this was an Angel of Order.
“Don’t worry,” Tasma assured me with his usual creepy smile. “It will be dead by tomorrow.”
What the fuck? “And why will it be dead by tomorrow?” The angel looked healthy enough. And Bencul was still walking around, so clearly the environment in Hel wasn’t toxic for Angels of Order.
“Oh, I need to kill it.” Tasma patted the angel on the head, as if he’d just announced he was going to give it a cookie. “Remiel wanted to kill it right away once he realized it was of Order, but that toy of his would have had a fit. It’s too dangerous to have this thing in Hel. If the word gets out, my place will be under siege with all the demons who want an angel-toy of their own. Plus, it’s creators don’t want it.”
“Its sire wants it,” I sputtered. “You’re not killing this angel, so just forget that idea right now.”
“Better me than have it torn apart by some demon,” he said. “I’m not keeping it in my house. This was temporary, as a favor to Remiel. He said to kill it off after they’d taken Aaru. Clearly they’ve taken Aaru, so there’s no need for me to keep this thing around any longer.”
He had a point—well, besides offing this angel, anyway. It was too dangerous for this angel to be in Hel. I couldn’t force Tasma to keep it as I was pretty sure there would be an unfortunate ‘oops’“” the moment I turned my back. I couldn’t trust my Lows to take care of it. And I couldn’t give it to Bencul. His own days were probably numbered. There was no way he could take care of a young angel and defend it from the demons. It wouldn’t be safe in a foster home as an Angel of Order.
I needed to get this angel out of Hel. Remiel obviously didn’t want it. I couldn’t trust the Ancients in Aaru to not kill it. Which left the human world. Damn it all to fucking hell, I was going to have to cart this baby back with me.
“I got this,” I told Tasma, walking over to the angel. “And you owe me a big fucking favor for taking this thing off your hands. Big. Fucking. Favor.”
He smirked. “You’re the Iblis. I think I pretty much owe you a favor anytime you ask anyway.”
The dwarf stood and handed me the angel. It looked at me and spat some sort of green goo onto my shirt. “You’re gonna need to change that form,” I told it. “Human. You need to look human.”
I reached out with my spirit-self and touched the child, showing him all the complex structures I’d used to put together my own human form, then with a flash of light I was holding an actual baby.
“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” Tasma put a hand to his mouth and gagged. “Why would you do that to the poor thing? Human infants are revolting. If you’re going to kill it, at least let it die looking somewhat attractive.”
“I’m not going to kill it.” What the fuck was I going to do with it, though? It would be so easy to go back to my house, hand this angel over to Bencul, and shoo him out the door. His offspring, his problem. He could take the baby and go hide in the mountains like he was obviously planning to do.
And starve. Or be killed by trolls, or demons, or whatever else happened to come by and find two helpless angels in the wilderness. Bencul might be able to take care of himself, but he would struggle to keep this little angel safe. I couldn’t leave the little guy here. I couldn’t take him back to my house. I couldn’t just hand him over to Bencul and walk away. This young angel couldn’t be in Hel. It wasn’t safe for him to be in Hel.
It wasn’t safe for him to be in Aaru right now either. Or in the human world.
The human world. There was someone I knew who was good at keeping angel young safe in the human world—two someones. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was the only one I could think of right now that didn’t end up with tiny angel wings mounted to some demon’s wall.
Chapter 28
I didn’t want to just appear on the roof of a Chicago skyscraper holding an infant angel, so I teleported down the street a few blocks, scaring the fuck out of the humans on their way home from work. Then I strode through the streets of Chicago dressed like my clothes had been attacked by a swarm of moths armed with knives, holding a shrieking, naked infant boy. No one called social services, and by the time I got to the building lobby, the angel had decided to stop fighting and check out our interesting surroundings. He was particularly fascinated by his reflection in the glass of the revolving door, and on the mirrored elevator walls. I listed to instrumental soft-rock Eminem while the angel cooed and made kissy-faces at himself.
By the time I reached the roof, Asta and Dar had time to sense my energy signature and prepare themselves. Which probably meant they were putting away the dirty laundry, bongs, sex toys, or whatever else they didn’t want me to see.
“Hey,” I told Dar as I held the angel toward him with both hands. “Brought you guys a present.”
He backed away rapidly until his ass hit one of the air intake boxes. Asta came forward slowly, but made no move to take the angel from my hands. I pushed it toward her. Damn thing was getting heavy.
“It’s an Angel of Order,” she said.
“No fuck. Here. It’s all yours.”
“No, it’s not.” Asta crossed her arms and glared at me. “Whose baby have you stolen?”
“I didn’t steal him. I saved his life.”
Dar snorted. “Guess he’s yours now, Mal. Have fun with that.”
Asshole. “Look, you’ve got a newly created Angel of Order that’s all hush-hush. Shouldn’t be a big deal to add a second one. Take him. Look how cute he is.”
Clearly, I’d found something right to say because Asta practically melted in front of my eyes and reached out for the baby.
“Oh no.” Dar pushed her hands away. “No. One is more than we can handle right now. I’ll get you a kitten, darling, but you can’t have this angel. I didn’t create it. I’m not the one that saved its life. He’s all yours, Mal.”
Asta was the weak link here. I needed to prey on her and ignore Dar. “He’s all alone. His creator was an Ancient in Hel, a Fallen. He’s gone, abandoning this little guy with instructions that the baby should be killed. And the sire…well he’s in Hel too. And Hel is clearly no place for a little, itty-bitty, cute-as-a-button Angel of Order now, is it?”
I almost had her. Almost. Then Asta suddenly frowned. �
�The sire is in Hel? This isn’t a demon, it’s an angel, and it’s an Angel of Order. That means the sire is an Angel of Order.”
“Yeah, it’s a long story. Look at how cute he is. Sooooo cute.”
“Why is there an Angel of Order in Hel?” The frown turned into a glare. “It’s against the treaty for an Angel of Order to be in Hel. And even if it wasn’t, not one of us would go there. Which means…”
“Yeah. My bad. I kinda threw him through the gates of Hel. In my defense, he’d created a Nephilim, and he’d been a real asshole to the human mother too. Technically that made him a Fallen, a part of my choir. So I was within my rights to send him to Hel for punishment.”
Silence greeted my little speech. It was clear that Asta didn’t agree with me.
“How the fuck did he last more than one day in Hel, let alone live long enough to be making babies with an Ancient?” Dar asked, eyeing the little angel with curiosity.
“The Ancient found him before the demons had a chance to kill him. They fell in love. It was all very romantic in a twisted, weird kind of way. The angel made a deal with the Ancient to create this little guy, but when he turned out to be an Angel of Order, the Ancient wanted him dead. He couldn’t exactly kill the baby without pissing off his angel-toy, so he hid it with instructions to kill it later.”
“So give the adorable little guy back to his sire.” Asta sighed and reached out a finger to stroke the baby’s cheek.
“The sire is in Hel. And while he’s in my household under my protection right now, it’s gonna be hard to keep both him and an infant Angel of Order safe. The baby is vulnerable and in danger there, so I brought it here. To you. To keep. Because he’s sooooo cute.”
Asta stuffed her hands in her pockets and set her jaw. “When neither the creator nor the sire are alive or able to properly care for and raise a young angel, that task falls to the head of their choir. That’s what happened to me. I was orphaned late in the war, so the Ancient Revered Archangel Gabriel took charge of my upbringing. As the choir of the Fallen is yours, and as you are the Iblis, both this angel’s sire and creator are yours. Therefore this angel is your responsibility.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I can’t raise an angel. Look at me. Do I look fit to raise an angel? No, I don’t. He’s cute. Here. Take him.”
Asta gave me one of those hard looks that reminded me she wasn’t quite the wuss I’d originally thought. “No. He’s your responsibility. Either you raise him, or you free his sire from Hel and give the baby back to him.”
“I’ve got some diapers if you need them.” Dar was holding back a laugh. “And a baby sling. Maybe you can set up a playpen in the Ruling Council meetings.”
Damn it all to fucking hell. “Fine. I can’t risk taking him back to Hel, though. Can you guys watch him for me until I send Bencul over to pick him up?”
Dar scowled. “You’re going to ditch us with that thing, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I swear on all the souls I used to Own that I only need you to watch him for one day. Two max.”
The demon sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine.”
Asta squealed, holding her arms out. I happily deposited the baby there and turned to leave.
“What’s his name?” the angel asked.
“Fuck if I know.” I left before they could ask me any other questions.
I really didn’t want to release Bencul from Hel. He was a world-class dick, and I didn’t think he’d suffered enough for his crimes. Although maybe he had. I’m sure those demons who initially found him hadn’t been gentle, and I was equally sure that Remiel hadn’t been gentle.
He’d fallen in love, and his loved one had ditched him, hidden his offspring, and intended to kill his offspring. Maybe he’d suffered enough. He’d have to have suffered enough, because as much as I didn’t want to release Bencul from Hel, I really didn’t want to have to raise his baby.
Chapter 29
I headed back to Hel, satisfied that for now that baby angel was safe. I wasn’t so convinced that releasing Bencul was a great idea, though. Five minutes after he was in the human world, every angel there would know they were banished from Aaru, the Ancients had taken their homeland, and I was to blame for it all. I could try to leverage the baby, get a vow from Bencul that he keep all this secret, but in all honesty I just didn’t have the energy for this anymore.
Let it happen. I couldn’t hold back the storm any longer. Release Bencul, let him have the child he’d sired, then just deal with the fallout. There was that Ruling Council meeting in two days. I wondered if my horrible news could wait that long or if I’d need to call an emergency meeting.
I was so lost in thought that I nearly ran into an Ancient. Doriel was standing outside my home, waiting as I made my way up the street. I started, wondering what she was doing here, what emergency had caused her to leave Aaru and seek me out.
“I’ve decided to return to Hel,” she said without any greeting or formality. “And I’m not the only one.”
“Why? I mean, I hate that place so I’m not surprised, but you guys have waited two-and-a-half-million years to get there. Why return to Hel?”
She spread her tattered wings to the side and I saw another feather fall, catching fire as it drifted to the pavement. “Remember I said that I could not shed my corporeal form? Others are having the same problem. We’re worried that we can no longer exist as beings of spirit, that we’d need to continually recreate a disintegrating physical form in order to remain alive in Aaru. And that defeats the reason for living there, in my view. If I can no longer live my life as a being of spirit, then remaining somewhere that constantly reminds me of what I’ve lost would be a worse torture than returning to Hel.”
“How many are staying, and how many are coming back to Hel?” I needed to know this so at the Ruling Council meeting I could tell them if there were three hundred Fallen in Aaru, or five. It shouldn’t make a difference to the angels, but I got the feeling it would. It was one thing to have a handful of who you considered squatters in your home as opposed to every living Angel of Chaos ever banished.
Doriel shrugged. “I think about a hundred of us are returning, so roughly two hundred plan to remain in Aaru. I hope that they are eventually able to shed their corporeal form. If they can, even if it takes centuries, then there will be hope for us, too.”
“I appreciate your letting me know.” I motioned toward my house. “Would you like to come in and have some…uh, dried bitey fish? I’m sorry. I’m not really prepared for guests at this moment, and there’s something I need to get to.”
She waved her hand. “Oh, no worries. I did want to ask about that angel, though. It seems he was unable to enter Aaru for some reason. Remiel told me that he was up for grabs?”
Up for grabs. That fucking asshole. “He’s not interested in joining another household at the moment. I plan to release him from Hel and set him free.”
“Ah, that is too bad. I’d hoped to convince him to come entertain me for a while. I have my faults, but unwarranted rape and torture are not among them. I can promise I’d be kind and fair.”
And that would be the perfect solution if Bencul didn’t have an infant angel to take care of. “I’ll let him know. Maybe in a few centuries he might change his mind, but for now I’m sure he’ll want to take care of some things outside of Hel.”
Doriel did an odd dip, something between a bow and a curtsy. “Safe travels then, Iblis.”
I watched her vanish in a flash of light, then went into my house where I saw Hammer, Snip and Gimlet throwing swords at the wall. Piersel was nowhere to be seen. And neither was Bencul.
“Where’s the angel?” I yanked one of the swords from the wall, stood back, and launched it. It bounced off and clattered to the ground.
“Out.”
I turned and grabbed Hammer’s wrist just as he was about to throw the sword. “What the fuck do you mean ‘out’?”
“Out. Said he need to go get something.”<
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“Something from Remiel’s house?” I’d told the angel to stay here. Admittedly, I wasn’t in a position to demand obedience from him. He could come and go as he pleased. But why would that stupid idiot go to retrieve belongings halfway across Dis when he could have bribed one of my Lows to do it?
“Yeah, that Piersel guy told him some stuff about a favor Remiel had asked of another Ancient.” Gimlet threw a sword at the wall and it sank halfway in, the hilt quivering with momentum. “He said he was going to Tasma’s to get it back.”
“Fuck.” He was going to get the angel baby—the one I’d taken. I wasn’t sure what Tasma would do to him if Bencul showed up on his doorstep demanding his progeny. If he showed up at all. Tasma’s place was farther away than Remiel’s. That was a lot of distance for an angel to walk, with every demon in Dis wanting him for their own.
“I’m going to Tasma’s,” I announced. “Snip, Gimlet, and Hammer—you guys go out in the streets and find out who saw Bencul. I want to know if anyone saw a demon grab him off the street. If you hear anything, come find me right away.”
Then I ran. It would have been faster to teleport, but I wanted to be sure I didn’t zap past Bencul while he was trying to fight off a pack of demons. If he was at Tasma’s he was safer then he would be in the streets of Dis.
The streets were empty and silent, like a ghost town in an old western movie. I burned the fuck out of myself passing through Tasma’s lava barrier without waiting to be let in, and banged on the door.
He wasn’t there. Bencul had never made it to Tasma’s. And I was positive the demon answering the door wasn’t lying because I asked him with my sword burning a hole through his chest.
Where the fuck was he? This wasn’t my fault. Yeah, I’d thrown the guy into Hel as a punishment, but it wasn’t my problem that he’d been abandoned by his lover and risked his damned foolish life walking unguarded through the streets of Dis to go retrieve an angel baby that I’d already rescued. Fucking idiot.