Elven Blood (Imp Book 3)

by Dunbar, Debra

  She looked at the ground, squirming under his scrutiny. “I was just a child, Wyatt. He was mean. I haven’t done it since.”

  I would have done anything to have spared Wyatt the pain that shot across his face. “He wasn’t mean, Amber. Yes, he had his faults, but he was a wonderful father, and I loved him. How could you kill him? Our own father.”

  Tears glistened in the girl’s beautiful eyes. “I was five, Wyatt. Five. You saw how devastated I was afterwards, how many years of counseling I went through.”

  He stared down at her, weighing her words. “I won’t let you kill her, Sam. Or turn her over to the elves. No matter what she’s done, she’s still my sister. I’ll live my whole life with that stupid barrier, killing off Haagenti’s thugs. Tell them you couldn’t find her. I don’t care what you tell them, you’re not taking my sister.”

  I ran my hands through my hair. There was no good way to say any of this.

  “Wyatt, I swear to you I’m not going to kill her. I planned on it, but I’m not now. There’s a bigger problem, though. Don’t you see? The elves won’t give up. Others will come to track her down, and it’s a miracle no one has discovered her so far. Any demon that gets within twenty feet of her can tell. A werewolf a mile downwind can tell. And if she stumbles across a vampire? They’ll be on her faster than a fat man on a Hot Pocket.”

  I took a few steps toward Wyatt, wanting to wrap my arms around him, wanting to rub my face against his chest and smell his warm, human smell. He backed up, brandishing the shovel, and something inside me broke. Oh please no. Not this.

  Amber peeked out from behind her brother. “Is she telling the truth? Am I really some kind of elf/demon freak? I’ll be walking down the street one day, minding my own business, and someone is going to jump me and rip me apart?”

  “I’ll protect you,” Wyatt said desperately. “You’ll be okay.”

  “How, Wyatt?” I asked. “She can’t get in your house; she’s half demon. Are you going to seal her up in a vault somewhere? Hidden away, safe from everyone? What kind of life is that? Death would be better.”

  “You’re just saying that to save your own skin,” Wyatt snapped. “I know how you are, Sam. I love you, but I’m not blind. Kill her, turn her over to the elves, and get Haagenti off your back. It’s quick, it’s easy, and you won’t consider any other alternative that might actually take effort or possibly put your own self at risk.”

  “I’m not going to kill her! Not killing her. Not, not, not!” I yelled.

  His accusations were really unfair. I’d put myself at risk over and over for him. I’d put my neck out for Candy, for Dar, and for a bunch of smelly homeless people that I didn’t even know. But I understood. He’d discovered horrible truths about the little sister he loved, found me straddling her as she tried to fight me off. It was a shock, and right now I looked a lot like the villain. Heck, maybe I was.

  “Then consider some alternatives. Help me think of a way to keep her safe. For me.”

  I’d do anything for Wyatt. Attack an ancient angel to protect him, fight off a hoard of assassin demons, kill my own brother if need be. I’d help him protect his sister, and then I would turn myself over to Haagenti for probable execution. Wyatt would finally be safe.

  “I’m listening.” I sat down on a hay bale and opened another beer. “Bring on the alternatives.”

  Wyatt looked bleak. “Maybe Candy can hide her with one of her werewolf packs. No one would think to look for her there. And they can defend her against any humans or demons the elves send.”

  “Would they risk violating their existence contract over this?” I asked him softly. “She’s part succubus. How long could a young werewolf resist her? How long before she falls in love with one of them?”

  Wyatt’s face fell. He was clearly desperate, out of options.

  “Stop discussing me as if I were a package or something,” Amber said, stepping out from behind Wyatt. “I’m going back to college tomorrow, going on with my life. I’m not going to live cloistered away in a fortress, or foisted off on people I don’t know.”

  “Sam’s right,” Wyatt told her. “You’ve been lucky so far, but you’ll be in even more danger now that the elves know about your existence. They’ll be looking for you.”

  I admired her gumption, and I got the feeling she was going to do whatever she wanted, regardless of what either Wyatt or I said.

  “Sam, what can we do to convince the elves she’s dead?”

  I had only one option left, and if it worked, it might solve both our problems. “We need to check and make sure there isn’t another Joseph Barakel,” I told Wyatt. “If so, then I need to kill him. He’s the real risk here, the link that someone can trace to Amber.”

  “No,” Wyatt’s voice was firm. “I’m not helping you find and kill another human. I’m not. No more killing humans, Sam.”

  I bit back my words. His sister’s life was on the line, and he wouldn’t let me kill this one guy to protect her? I’d never be able to find this guy on my own. I’d better just hope he was already dead of natural causes.

  “Okay. I’ll try and see if I can get the elves to think she’s already dead. I’ll dig up an elf baby changeling from the same time frame; try to fake a demon energy signature in the corpse. We might be able to convince the elves that the baby really was dead all along. They’ll call off the hunt, and even if someone picks it up again, the trail will lead to a dead end.”

  Wyatt looked hopeful. “Amber will still need to stay clear of vampires, demons and werewolves, but that will be less of a risk once the elves no longer have a bounty on her head.”

  I nodded. “I’ll give her some ideas on how she can bring her abilities out, so she can better defend herself.” If I ever made it back alive from Hel, that is.

  “Thank you, Sam,” he said, but his words lacked the warmth they’d always had before.

  I left them alone and walked back into the house. I’d lied. I was positive the dead elf baby wouldn’t pass, that the whole ruse wouldn’t work, but I’d give it a shot, do what I could to make sure Amber was safe. I’d do it for Wyatt. Then I’d walk right out into demon lands and face Haagenti. I’d never see Wyatt again, but I wasn’t sure how he felt about me after tonight anyway.

  22

  I’d kicked Leethu’s harem out the moment I walked through the door, threatening them with evisceration if they weren’t gone by the time I counted to ten. I never saw humans move so fast. Leethu went to protest, but the words died on her lips when she saw my face. I locked my bedroom door and spent the entire sleepless night curled in a ball on my bed, missing arms and legs around me. Missing the feel of a heartbeat against my cheek, the tickle of warm breath in my hair. Around three in the morning, I just couldn’t’ take it anymore. I got up, made a pot of coffee and snuck down the road toward Wyatt’s. Boomer had wrapped up his nightly excursions early and trailed after me. The hellhound was perplexed by the barrier around the house and kept bumping against it in an effort to get in. I just sat on the perimeter and stared at the house.

  In the living room, pale blue light flashed out the window. Wyatt was awake and playing his video games. I felt better, knowing he was sleepless too. I wished I could go in, tell him I loved him, comfort him, but I knew that given what he’d walked in on in the barn, my presence wouldn’t be welcome right now. The cold frost melted under my rear, soaking my jeans. I sat until sunrise. Finally, when the morning light obscured the flashes from the video game, I got up and stiffly made my way home to do the barn chores.

  Wyatt must have come over earlier in the night and brought the horses in. I turned them out and mucked the stalls, filling them with fresh shavings and adding a flake of hay and clean water to each. Diablo’s stall sat empty, and it added to the horrible sorrow eating through me. Gregory was right, the elves cherished horses and he’d come to no harm with them, but he’d be a prisoner, locked down and forced to comply as a regular horse. I needed to get him back, although once Haagenti was throug
h with me, he’d be without a master. Maybe he was better off with the elves.

  What I really needed to do was put the self–pity aside and get to work. I forced myself back into the house and sat my still damp butt down at my dining room table to pursue Wyatt’s short–list—the list of babies who had died within the timeframe and area. Fifty–eight babies. Wyatt had listed the city and state of each, so I quickly identified three babies that might possibly have been close enough to have been buried in Mount Olivet. I sincerely hoped it was one of the babies on the list. I’d call the cemetery when they opened, and check out all three names. Everything was closing down on my head so fast, that I really needed this to go smoothly. If I had to search the entire cemetery for a hybrid infant, I’d run out of time. That done, I called Dar.

  “Mal, they killed my messenger.” Dar was subdued with shock. Demons got killed all the time going through the gate, but this cut close to home.

  “I know. Next time I think you’ll need to come through yourself. You’re better at evading the guardian, and you can defend yourself pretty well.”

  “That’s a problem too. Things here have gotten really bad. Haagenti has a careful watch on the gates and an order to take out anyone of your household. I had to send an unknown guy, someone unaffiliated with you. They’ll kill me if I try to get through, and even if I make it, they’ll be waiting for me when I return.”

  Shit. This put a wrinkle in things.

  “I swear to you Dar; this is almost over. I just need one more thing, and it’s urgent. I need you to contact that demon messenger, the one who has been the go–between from the elf woman and that human. Let him know I’ve found the dead hybrid baby, and am prepared to bring it back as proof to his Lordship, but I cannot do that unless I have the name and the address of the human servant who did the exchange.” Wyatt had forbidden me from killing any more humans, but I really needed to do this to ensure his sister’s safety. I’d make sure he never found out. It would be one last gift to him, and if he hated me for it, so be it.

  “You found the baby?” Dar was excited. “But I thought she hadn’t killed it, that you were looking for a young adult?”

  “Baby,” I emphasized. “Tell the demon that I verified Tlia–Myea’s story and will return with the dead hybrid infant. Tell him that somehow the human escaped death, and is still living here.”

  “But why?”

  “Totally hush, Dar. Tell no one but that demon—stress that I will not be able to bring the remains of the baby back unless I have the name and address of the human. Otherwise, it’s not happening.”

  Dar remained silent.

  “Just tell him, exactly like that. And I need the information by tonight. There is to be no negotiation on any of this. Clear?”

  “Got it, Mal.” Dar disconnected. He loved this kind of cloak and dagger stuff. I had no doubt I’d have my answer by tonight, if not earlier.

  I mulled over my schedule. I needed to dispatch the human servant so Amber’s existence would be virtually untraceable. Then dig up an elf baby tonight. Leethu and I could work all morning on the corpse, and with any luck I’d be back in the elf lands by tomorrow afternoon. And dead by evening, I though cynically. Which left me today to get my things in order.

  I’d done this before. Made out power–of–attorneys, lists–of–assets. When I’d gone after Althean for the werewolves this past summer, the chance had been good that I would either be killed or in Hel for the rest of my life. I’d left everything to Wyatt, gave him instructions on where everything was, how to access the safe and the communication mirror. I didn’t need to change anything, but with what happened last night, I was worried he wouldn’t think to do anything. So I sat down to write.

  Wyatt — If you’re getting this note, then Haagenti has me and my return will be delayed far past your lifespan.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be dead. Let him think and hope that I lived on.

  Everything is still in place for you to assume all my possessions and business interests. Please feel free to enjoy them, or disburse them however you see fit.

  Vegas is your horse. I bought him for you and have always considered him a gift. He’s a good boy and a lot of my best memories are of us riding together. I hope you can bring yourself to keep him.

  I know you doubt me right now, and you have every right. There are things about me that I’ve always tried to hide from you, things that I knew you couldn’t accept. I’m sorry you’ve seen this part of me, sorry that I’ve hurt you. Yes, I had intended to kill the elf hybrid, but I just couldn’t. She is a hybrid. Hybrids have the same value as an animal. They are often considered to be monsters. And she’d committed murder. Admitted to it.

  But in spite of everything, I discovered I couldn’t trade her life for mine. And not just her. I realized last night that I could no longer trade anyone’s life for mine. Self–defense is one thing, but I can’t bring myself to kill a relatively innocent person just to get myself out of trouble. I hope eventually you can believe what I’m telling you. Know that I’m sincere in this.

  I love you. I think I’m the only demon that has ever felt that emotion, or maybe I’m just the first to admit it. I love you. You are my most favored human, a being so very precious to me. You are my best friend, my partner in crime. I will never, ever, forget you or what you have meant to me.

  Sam

  I blotted off the splotchy wet marks and put the letter in an envelope, sealing it and writing Wyatt’s name on the front.

  “Leethu!” I called.

  She bolted down the stairs with surprising speed. I had a sneaking suspicion she had been following me around, watching me since last night. Her face was worried and scared as she searched mine. I handed her the envelope.

  “I’m going to try and locate an elf changeling body tonight. If I do, I’ll need your help to try and alter it somehow, so it appears to be the hybrid baby you sired.”

  Leethu’s brow knitted. “I’ll do my best, Ni–ni, but it may not pass.”

  “It needs to pass. If not, the elves will throw me out, and Haagenti will grab me. You do know what that means, don’t you? I’ll be killed. There will be no Iblis to protect you. If you stay here, the angels will kill you, if you go home, the elves. There’s a substantial price on your head. This baby needs to pass, or you’re dead.”

  Leethu paled. “I understand.”

  “If it doesn’t work, and Haagenti grabs me, give this letter to Wyatt, and then do whatever you need to, to protect yourself.”

  “How do I know if it doesn’t work; if Haagenti has killed you? How will I know when to give your human this message?”

  I thought for a second. There might be no one in my household left to deliver the message. I strongly suspected Haagenti would take out his rage on every one of them. And this whole scheme was doomed to failure anyway.

  “Actually, just give it to Wyatt as soon as I leave,” I told her.

  Leethu bit her trembling lip. “You’ll contact me if it works? To let me know if it’s safe to come home?”

  I nodded. “Yes. But I need you to swear you’ll give the letter to Wyatt.”

  There was a moment of silence as she looked at me. I felt rather like I was being dissected by her beautiful brown eyes. “I swear it upon all the beings I Own that I will give the letter to Wyatt.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged her tight then I collected Boomer and headed to the cemetery.

  23

  I pulled my Suburban in through the massive iron gates of Mount Olivet cemetery and headed left around the prominent Francis Scott Key memorial. Boomer was beside himself with excitement, like a dog in a Snausages factory. He smeared drool all over my windows in a halfhearted attempt to push his head through the glass. I appreciated his restraint. He really could break through the SUV window if he truly put some effort into it.

  “No snackies today, boy.”

  The one good thing about all the demons Wyatt and I had been killing was that Boomer had been
less motivated to chow down on corpses from local graveyards. He was basically a lazy hellhound, and would take a meal of opportunity any day over one he’d actually have to work for. Demon corpses and road kill had been making up the majority of his diet lately. In fact, I really needed to put him on a diet. He was getting a little thick around the middle.

  The man on the phone had been very cooperative when I told him I was researching some family history and wanted to know if any of the three names I had were interred there. One was, and he helpfully gave me the location of the grave and directions, which were useful given over thirty four thousand bodies had been laid to rest in this cemetery.

  I circled to the right, along the fence line and past the seemingly endless line of markers from the Civil War—soldiers, some of them unknown, lined in formation in death as in life. Young men, their contribution to the human race rewarded with death. I wondered why the angels didn’t study the impact of their loss. So many lives. Perhaps it would have destroyed any faint hope in the evolution of humanity.

  I was sure I’d become lost after so many turns in the labyrinth of the cemetery when I saw the marker. Finch. Infants were sometimes buried in an area of the cemetery known as Babyland then moved later after the family had time to purchase a section of plots, but the Finch family were long–time Frederick residents, and they had at one time purchased a large number of grave sites.

  The standard sized plots were large enough to accommodate an infant at the foot of an adult grave. Leah Finch was buried at the end of the grave of her grandmother. I stopped and looked at the large stone, which listed the names of six family members buried around it. There were blank spots for two more names. With Boomer on a leash, we circled the large square monument, reading the smaller, embedded stones. There, at the foot of Martha Finch’s grave, was Leah Finch. She’d been a week old.

  I thought about her parents, their grief. Wyatt’s family had it better. They’d been given a live baby in exchange. They’d got to see her grow up, love her as their own. This family had no such luck. They’d had their healthy child stolen from them in the night and replaced with a corpse. They’d mourned, wondered what had happened, if something could have been done to prevent the death of their baby, carried the scars of her loss with them forever. And all the while a human baby grew up a slave to the elves. Treated humanely, but denied the loving, normal childhood she should have had. It pissed me off. I’d always liked elves, admired them even. But now I was beginning to hate them.