Elven Blood (Imp Book 3)

by Dunbar, Debra

  Yeah, well he wouldn’t be any more enlightened after hearing Gregory go on about it for hours either. Right order. Angels got all wet just thinking about it, but I could never figure out what the fuck it meant.

  “Let me know if you find out anything else.” Dar was thorough. I doubted he’d have missed anything.

  “I also have a message for you from the High Lord Taullian, Ruler of Cyelle. I’ll never understand why elves need to use so many ‘L’s. It’s just absurd.”

  I agreed.

  “He says the human you wanted information on was named Joseph Barakel. He was forty–five years old when he did the changeling swap, and that was about nineteen years ago.”

  I shot a quick glance at Wyatt, who didn’t appear to be paying attention. He was clenching his fists and staring hard at a spot on the wall, resisting Leethu’s pheromones that had crept back up. He said he would help me with the research on dead infants, but there was an increasing probability the hybrid wasn’t dead. With Haagenti upping the ante, I fully intended to follow up on my hunch that the hybrid remained alive over here, and that the human was also alive keeping tabs on her. I was desperate. I needed to find this hybrid now, before Haagenti made good on his promise. But the human servant was middle–aged when he’d done the changeling swap. He might be dead of natural causes by now, even if the elf woman hadn’t killed him as she claimed.

  “He never returned,” Dar added.

  That jived with Tlia–Myea’s claim that he was killed over here. Or possibly that he remained here alive, watching over a fostered hybrid. I glanced at Wyatt again. It was looking more and more like I’d be committing what in his eyes would be a murder.

  “Never returned?” I asked Dar, just to confirm. “Who brought the human baby back after the swap?”

  “A demon, evidently, but their records don’t show specifically who. There clearly was a human baby. There’s a bill of sale and everything. Taullian’s people traced it down, and her owner confirmed the purchase and the date.”

  I’d met the human, and her odious owner, but had hoped something would identify the demon who’d brought the baby back. He’d at least be able to confirm or deny the human’s death. I wondered again who had leaked the story. It wasn’t the sort of gossip a demon would spread around. It had to have been an elf. The midwife that Tlia–Myea was so fiercely protecting? Or was there someone besides the midwife who knew this little secret?

  “Oh, and Joseph Barakel came into his mistress’ service as an infant.” Dar added.

  I was stunned. An infant? And he had risen only to the level of a servant?

  “Was he addled? Mentally lacking?” I thought about the human changeling, Nyalla. Changeling babies usually became magic users, sorcerers. I’d expected this guy to have come into elf hands as an adult if he was a mere servant.

  “Noooo. His scores were pretty average, for a human. I’m not sure why she didn’t put him in the mage apprenticeship program. He certainly qualified. With intensive training he probably could have been skilled.”

  The training was intensive. I’d found out about it from the runaways I’d tracked for asshole–elf, otherwise known as Lord Feille of Wythyn. The babies went in right away and remained at the school full time. There was no family life for them. No normal human childhood. They spent decades in training then served their owners, often while still residing at the academy.

  “Who did the elf woman in the tower, Tlia–Myea, buy him from?” Maybe he’d had behavior issues and been sold from out of kingdom. Maybe his original elf homeland had more exacting standards and he hadn’t made the cut.

  “She had him as an infant. She purchased changeling rights from another elf, and he came straight to her when the swap was made.”

  It was like a lightning bolt had hit me in the forehead. She bought a human baby, never turned him over to the academy of magic, raised him herself. It was an absurd, sentimental waste of money. To spend a fortune to get the rights to a changeling then not allow him to be trained as a valuable magic user was insane. She could have ended up with a mage, but instead she wasted her money and wound up with a servant. The only reason for her to do that would be because she wanted to raise him herself, as her own child.

  Elves lived for tens of thousands of years. Humans didn’t. And suddenly her human baby was a grown, middle–aged man. He’d die. She needed an elf baby to love. One who would outlive her. She knew the baby she bore wouldn’t pass for an elf, so she sent her two children off together. One to watch over the other. One tasked with keeping an eye on the infant. One so concerned with watching over the baby that he couldn’t even return with the human changeling. One who was probably sending occasional reports to her. It was all just a hunch, a long shot, but my instincts had seldom failed me before, and they were screaming at me about this one.

  I shot one more quick look at Wyatt, who was thankfully oblivious to our conversation. “Dar? Would you dig around and see if you can discover who the demon was that brought back the human baby? And also if there is a demon who has been sending fairly regular correspondence to this elf woman? Maybe once a year or every other year? It may be the same demon, but don’t rule out that it could be two different ones. Is there a way you can do that without involving Lord Taullian, or him knowing what you’re doing?”

  Dar snorted. “Of course, Mal. How dare you doubt my competence.”

  Now that’s the Dar I know and love. And I told him so. “Dar, you arrogant, worthless cow. Day–old shit is more competent than you. Still, you’re all I’ve got. Try not to fuck it up.”

  “Fuck you, Mal,” he said affectionately before disconnecting the line.

  “The net closes in on this elf hybrid,” I murmured to myself before turning to Wyatt, who was in the process of closing in on me.

  I had been engrossed in Dar’s information, so I hadn’t felt the dramatic increase of sex in the air. Leethu leaked like crazy, and evidently she was pouring it out like a geyser right now. Wyatt wrapped himself around me, pushing me backwards to slam against the wall, the sharp edges of my mirror digging in to my back.

  “Now, Sam,” he said, his voice husky with need. “I don’t care if she hears, watches, joins in. Right now I wouldn’t even care if that angel joined in. I need you now.”

  “Barn,” I told him, trying to negotiate the path to the door as he unhooked buttons and snaps with great skill and speed, once again ignoring his own clothing in his frenzy to remove mine. I swatted his hands away and yanked open the French doors leading out to the pool and patio. It was January, so my pool was snugly tucked under a huge foam cover, patio furniture stacked neatly in the corner. Otherwise I may have taken advantage of a handy chaise lounge or done it in the water. Instead I moved as quickly as I could with Wyatt pawing me all over, leaving a trail of my clothing on our way to the barn.

  I’d barely managed to throw a few blankets down in the tack room before Wyatt shoved me onto my hands and knees. Clearly he’d taken those moments to get his own clothing off, because instead of bulging jeans against my rear, I felt hard, naked flesh. Digging a fist into my hair, he yanked my head backward and plunged full length into me. A human woman would have been pissed by the complete absence of foreplay. I wasn’t human though, and I was really loving this side of Wyatt—the Leethu–influenced side.

  “Yeah, go!” I laughed. It felt like he was going to rip right through into my abdomen. I wished he was bigger.

  In response Wyatt let go of my hair and gripped my shoulders, shoving my face down into a saddle pad. He braced against my shoulders, pulling and pushing against me to force his thrusts even deeper. He was lucky, because all this rough stuff was testing my control. Humans weren’t sturdy enough to handle what I was longing to do, though, so I let Wyatt call the shots and just enjoyed myself.

  It was over quickly, and Wyatt collapsed in a heap on top of me. After a few moments of listening to his panting while I struggled to get even minimal oxygen from my squashed lungs, he rolled off me and ga
thered me tenderly to his chest in the spooning move he preferred during sleep.

  “Sam, I am so sorry,” he gasped.

  “Are you kidding?” I laughed. “That fucking rocked.”

  “I’m serious.” He buried his face in my hair. “

  “I’d be happy to let you apologize in a slow and gentle fashion,” I said turning to face him.

  I felt him wince. “That was fast and crazy. I think I’m going to be out of commission for a while.”

  “Can I reciprocate?” I teased. “You just roll over face down on the saddle pads and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  He flinched, even though he could see my smile. “Uhh, no. I let you get away with all sorts of things, Sam. You’ve always rocked my world, but there are some things I draw the line at.”

  I sighed as though he’d broken my heart. “Fine. I’ll cross that off my list. I’ve got lots of other ideas though. I’m hoping Leethu stays. She brings out your wild, unconventional side.”

  He laughed. “ You bring out my wild, unconventional side. I kind of like your sister Leethu though. I like her a lot. A whole lot.”

  “Yes, that’s part of her evil plan,” I teased him. “Draw you in with her beauty and promises of ecstasy then leave you a useless quivering mess for months.”

  “Kind of like you do?” Wyatt teased back. “Have you noticed how she only has an Asian accent when she wants something? It seems to get really thick when she’s trying to seduce me.”

  “That’s her favorite form right now. She attracts humans with a tiny, helpless demeanor. They never know what hits them. She’s the absolute master of topping from the bottom. Works even with us demons.”

  “She has a male form too, the Incubus?”

  “Oh more than one, although Leethu has always preferred female, both in form and in sexual partners. She has over fifty Owned beings to choose from, and most of them are human. That’s pretty good for a Succubus, even at her age.”

  Wyatt looked astonished. “Fifty? She’s killed fifty people and kept their souls?”

  I shrugged. “More like thirty–five, give or take a few, the rest are animals. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but Succubi can’t manage a whole lot of Owned spirits. They don’t multi–task as well as other demons do.”

  He looked at me. Oh no. I knew where this was going.

  “How many beings do you Own? How many are humans?”

  “Four hundred and thirty six. Two–hundred–and–twenty–eight are human.” I knew exactly how many. It’s important to keep track of these things.

  Wyatt caught his breath. “You have two hundred and twenty eight souls inside you? Are they in some kind of coma until you need them?”

  “No, they are active and aware, every last one of them. I provide environment, sensory input, experience. It wouldn’t be any fun if they were all like folders in a file cabinet. They need to be active, otherwise why bother to Own them?”

  “How do you manage all that?” Wyatt asked, astounded.

  “I don’t really think about it. It’s kind of like breathing to you. You can concentrate on it, or you can set a standard for a default breathing pattern and just do it. Not unconsciously, but semi–consciously. You feel it; you know you’re breathing, but you don’t need to divert brain power every time you take a breath.”

  “Seriously?” He sometimes had a hard time thinking what it meant for me to be a demon, a totally different creature, a being of spirit. I think he sometimes thought of me as just a weird human.

  “Yep. We all do this. Well except for angels. They don’t Own, but they do similar types of multi–tasking. Gregory really rocks. He can do this aspect thing where he assumes multiple corporeal forms. I have no idea at all how he manages to do that. I’ve never seen it, but I hope he shows me some time. Can you imagine?” I was awestruck at the thought. His power was so unbelievable.

  Wyatt scowled. Oh yeah, not a good time to be talking about an angel when you’re wrapped up in your lover’s arms. Especially an angel I admired so much.

  “Are they happy? What is it like for your Owned humans?”

  “A few are happy, but happy really isn’t much fun. I get really creative with the environments, but the best ones are pulled from a human’s own mind—their fears, their sins in life, whatever they dread the most. That’s what elicits the greatest reaction.”

  Wyatt hesitated. “So it’s like hell, only it’s inside you.”

  “No, Hel is a place. It wouldn’t work to duplicate Hel as an environment; none of the humans I Own have ever been there.”

  “I don’t mean your home Hel. I mean hell as in how the humans perceive it. A place where the damned spend eternity in torturous punishment.”

  “Kind of,” I wasn’t really sure where he was going with this. “I’m not punishing them though; it’s all in good fun”

  Wyatt shuddered. “Not for them. So they are evil people? Suffering because of their misdeeds during life?”

  “It’s not like prison. I don’t judge them and deliver punishment.”

  Wyatt frowned. “So you just grab someone, take their soul and do whatever you want to them, regardless of whether they deserved it or not? You snatch people, unwilling, then give them pain and suffering even if they’ve been good people during their lives.”

  I squirmed. Demons never really thought about humans as anything worthy of judgment or fair treatment. We didn’t even think in those terms with regards to other demons. But I’d been here so long, and I had human friends. What if one of Haagenti’s goons Owned Michelle or even Wyatt, and made them feel like they were starving, or itching all over with no relief, or slowly burning? I couldn’t stand the thought of them suffering like that. They were my friends.

  “It’s what we do, Wyatt. That’s part of being a demon. We spread plagues, create famine, start wars, and we Own. A lot of my Owned humans are willing.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re punishing innocent people.”

  Innocent was a kind of subjective term. I’m certain the worst mass murderer had people who thought he was innocent. I wasn’t sure how to explain this whole thing to Wyatt, though. I didn’t even want to look too closely at it myself at this point. I’d changed how I felt about humans over the last few months and now I found myself wondering about these things too.

  “Most of the humans I Own are what you would consider bad. I don’t have any nuns or charity workers. I daydream about Owning people like Hitler and John Wayne Gacy, not the last five winners of the Nobel Peace Prize.”

  People are more accepting of torture when they think someone had it coming.

  “What if it were me, Sam? How would you feel if a demon Owned me?”

  I went cold at the thought. I’d fucking kill anyone who hurt Wyatt. I couldn’t think about all the humans I Owned, couldn’t wrap my head around why it was okay for them, but not for the humans I’d come to care about. But I did want to reassure Wyatt that he was safe with me. I reached out to touch the side of his face.

  “I would never Own you Wyatt,” I told him. “I’ve resisted this long, and I’m confident I won’t slip. I don’t want to ever Own you.”

  “What if you slipped? Would you torture me? I know you said some are happy, but happy how?”

  “I won’t slip, Wyatt. I won’t.” The thought of Owning him made me feel ill. The thought of anyone Owning him made me ill.

  “I heard your brother talking about Haagenti. It’s escalating, and there’s a good chance I’ll be killed. Don’t you ever think about Owning me? That way I’d be beyond Haagenti’s reach. Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

  I honestly hadn’t.

  “Wyatt, I love you. And that’s why I can’t Own you. It would kill me to Own you. I’m absolutely terrified that one of Haagenti’s demons will kill you, but never once did I think Owning you was an acceptable alternative. Never.”

  His eyes were sad. “How can you possibly say that about me, while you continue to Own and torture all those othe
r humans? I’m no different than them, and if you can do it to them, you could do it to me.”

  “I won’t do that to you Wyatt. I swear on all the beings I Own.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “And you have no idea how ironic that statement is.” Shaking his head he pulled me close.

  “I don’t want this to end, Sam.” I got an odd feeling that he wasn’t just talking about Owning or dying by Haagenti’s hands.

  “Me either.” I pressed my face against his shoulder. “Everything ends, though. Even angels and demons. Everything begins and everything ends.” I lifted my head, pulled his face down to mine and kissed him, rubbing my thumb over his jaw. “But not today.”

  12

  The Eastside Tavern was surprisingly full for lunch. We’d snagged a table toward the back, and Wyatt told me about his latest video game adventures while I doused our fries with vinegar.

  “Okay,” I said, waving a fry at Wyatt when he’d finished discussing his success in killing zombies. “What did you discover about the angels? Anything different than Dar?”

  “I can’t remember what Dar discovered,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was too busy fantasizing about your rear end and what I hoped to do with it.” He handed me some stapled packets.

  I summarized the conversation for Wyatt.

  “Which one are you?” he asked, amused. “I think Obedience is probably out of the question.”

  “Oh totally. Personally I’m hoping for Prosperity, but with my luck I’m probably something boring, like Wisdom.”

  Wyatt choked on a fry. “Wisdom? Not likely. I really can’t see you as any of these, Sam. Maybe there should be one called ‘Trouble’, or ‘Mayhem’.”

  I would seriously love to be the ‘Trouble’ angel.

  Wyatt motioned to the stack of papers in front of me. “I put together summaries on each of them based on scripture as well as modern stories. I’ve got to say, there are a lot of fruitcakes on the Internet though.”

  I glanced though the papers, and paused at one, laughing. “Well, Gregory’s probably not this Gabriel guy, or I’d be pregnant.”