Elven Blood (Imp Book 3)

by Dunbar, Debra

  Taullian dove at me, and before his guards could react, I’d thrown him aside to crash into a chair and roll across the floor. I was held flat against the table before I could do anything more.

  “Keep your pants on elf boy,” I said mockingly. “It’s the real thing. Think I’d fake something this important with Haagenti breathing down my neck?”

  He stood up, straightening his clothing and strange comb–over hairdo.

  “Take her to her room,” he announced.

  The guards hauled me away, but not before I saw what his odd hairstyle had been hiding: a mangled ear, the top point completely missing.

  28

  After twenty–four hours trapped in my room, I was longing for Haagenti’s torture. I no longer cared what the sorcerer determined, I just wanted out of this damned room. When a knock finally came, I raced to the door in joy. The face at the door wasn’t a guard, but a human—a human mage. I stared at him blankly a moment before I realized this human was Kirby, the mage from the disastrous winter festival. He quickly slipped in the door, opening it little more than a crack and shutting it quietly behind him.

  “I’m sure the guard outside saw you,” I said wryly.

  “He’s one of Tlia’s. A fourth cousin twice removed.”

  Ah, so maybe she had been pointing at him, identifying him as someone I could rely on when the shit hit the fan. I was perplexed though. How would a fourth cousin twice removed be loyal, when her own first cousin, Taullian, was determined to see her dead and dishonored? Was it the Wythyn blood in her veins? Elven politics were like a fucking soap opera.

  “You need to get out of here.”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  “No way,” I told him. “I’ve got a business deal with the High Lord, and I’m not leaving before he delivers on his end of the contract.”

  Kirby looked around the room nervously. “I overheard one of the sorcerers. They can’t validate your ‘delivery’ either way, and since His Lordship seems to desire a negative result, that’s what they are going to proclaim.”

  Fuck. Dar had pulled it off, but it looked like it wouldn’t matter. Taullian had his people so under his thumb, they’d bend anything to suit his whim. All that work, and I’d still be tossed out on my ass to face Haagenti. Or worse.

  “What do they intend to do with me?” I asked.

  Kirby shook his head, avoiding my eyes. “Normally, they’d just escort you to the border and forbid you to return. They’d spread the word that you weren’t reliable to conduct elven business with and make sure all kingdoms were aware of your breach of contract. But His Lordship seems particularly emotional about you.”

  I thought back to our first meeting, his alternating moods of friendliness and fear. Had I met him before? Something nudged in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t grasp it.

  “He’s ranting about having you imprisoned. Says he should have known better than to ever trust you again. That you continue to commit deliberate offence against the kingdom and the elven race.”

  Crap. It’s not like I was the one who fucked an elf and impregnated her. And this was the first job I’d ever done for this guy, for his kingdom. At least that I could recall. I’d done a lot of work for elves though. Perhaps something pissed him off.

  “He believes that the ‘delivery’ is a fake,” I told Kirby. “Is desecration of an elven corpse enough of an offence for this kind of reaction?”

  Kirby grimaced. “It’s pretty bad. Probably. Especially combined with whatever you must have screwed up before.”

  “So I should make a run for it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It would be really hard for you to get out right now. Even with some of the guards helping, there are wards on the gates and alarms if you try to fly out. The fact that you’re the Iblis might give him pause. I know his advisors will urge him not to act in haste against you. Still, you need to run for it if the opening presents itself.”

  The mighty Iblis, running for it. What a worthless title.

  “Thank you, Kirby.” I meant it. I’d only met him briefly, and here he was, risking his position and probably his life to warn me. “I owe you a favor. Is there something you would request of me?”

  It would be in his best interest to call in the favor now. Human lives were very short, and it was a good possibility that he wouldn’t see me again to collect before he aged and died. Kirby shyly handed a round object to me, wrapped in paper.

  “It’s the cats–eye marble I had with me when I fell through the trap. I carried it everywhere, even slept with it. The paper has my parents’ names and address where I lived as a child, and also a note for them. Can you deliver it? I want them to know I lived and that I’ve had a good life. That I think of them all the time.”

  I put the package in the pocket of my jeans. “I will honor your request, as my favor to you.”

  He nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. I wondered as he walked out the door if he shed those tears every night.

  Kirby had been gone a few hours when a more firm, authoritative knock came at my door. The guards, including the fourth cousin, escorted me with decreasing ceremony downstairs and back to the room with the long table. Again I waited until Taullian and his posse finally entered. Kirby was right. I could tell by the high lord’s angry stride that all would not go well.

  “You lied,” he thundered, before he even reached the table. “Desecrated a perfect child, disturbed her eternal rest, and broke faith on our contract.”

  Yes, that was all true, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “Bullshit. I busted my ass getting that baby for you. You know it’s the real deal; you’re just fabricating these lies because you’re too weak to take out Haagenti as promised. You’re reneging on our contract because you’re too chicken shit to face him.”

  Taullian turned purple. I wondered briefly what the punishment would be for driving a high lord to aneurism. He muttered something unintelligible, then whirled around to face the elf woman who had been dragged in behind him.

  “Where did you hide the baby? I know it’s still alive. You’re sheltering an abomination, a demon spawn you helped create. You’re unworthy of the elven race, a disgrace to your family.”

  Tlia–Myea lifted her head proudly. “I told you. I killed the baby as soon as it was born. You have her corpse. Stop this insane witch–hunt now, before you have a war on your hands.”

  “You threaten me?” the elf choked out. “You threaten me with your Wythyn relatives?”

  The woman nodded toward me. “Wythyn or the demons. You’re making enemies left and right, my cousin.”

  “I am not your cousin,” he sneered. “I am not related to anyone so weak as to fall for a demon’s wiles, let alone one traitorous enough to shield a monstrous beast. You are not my cousin. You’re not Cyellian. You’re not an elf. You’re dead to all.”

  I wasn’t off the hook. He turned, walking toward me with a strange combination of bravado and fear.

  “Give me the information on the child, and I’ll let you live.” There was something in his voice, a strange waver of indecision, as though he dreaded my execution just as much as he desired it.

  “I already gave you the child.”

  I was a terrible liar, and I didn’t even try with this one. It didn’t matter if he believed me or not. Let him think I was definitely fucking him over. Let him wonder for the rest of his life where Amber was. He’d find her over my dead body. Which might be sooner rather than later.

  “I’ll have you put to death right beside her,” he snarled.

  “Really? Put the Iblis to death? How do you think you’re going to accomplish that? You really want a war on your doorstep?”

  “No one cares that you’re the Iblis. It’s a meaningless title. There isn’t one being that would stop me from killing you.”

  But there was. I thought of Wyatt, Michelle and Candy, of Tlia–Myea and her family, Dar and Leethu, of Kirby. Not many, but there were some on my side. And there
was one I was hoping would be particularly incensed at any threat to my person. Of course, he hadn’t seemed to care about Haagenti possibly killing me, so maybe I was wrong. Either way, it was the only card I had left in my hand. Time to bluff.

  Awkwardly sliding my arm out of the oilskin duster, I showed Taullian my brand. The tattoo of a sword with angel wings on the guard in red–purple that went beyond the skin to network deep within me.

  “This being would stop you. Or perhaps you don’t mind incurring his wrath?”

  Taullian jumped back and the sorcerer behind him paled, his eyes wide with shock.

  “She’s bound. By an angel.”

  “You’ve been feeding the angels a load of Kool–aid about how pure and evolved you are for millions of years. What if they knew? Knew about the gates and the humans? I could call him to my side. Let him see how ugly the elves really are.”

  Silence stretched on. Finally Taullian clenched his fists in frustration.

  “You will be escorted to the edge of our lands. Never return. If you ever fall in to Elven hands again, you will meet a punishment worse than death. Is that clear?”

  “Absolutely.” I smiled. “I think I prefer the company of humans to you anyway. At least they’re honest.”

  Taullian choked. “Get out.”

  I was “escorted” at an extremely rapid pace through the palace, and the streets of the city, and out the gates. It was clear they weren’t going to waste using an inter–realm gate on me by the mounted guards along the tree line. I wasn’t exactly sure how far their borders were, but this was probably going to be a brutal death march.

  It was six hours later and we were still tromping through the woods in silence.

  “If you’d let me ride one of your horses, this wouldn’t take so long,” I complained.

  Nothing.

  “If you’d let me manifest wings and fly, this wouldn’t take so long.”

  Nothing.

  “If you’d gate me to the border, this wouldn’t take so long.”

  “Lord Taullian said you are to walk,” a guard finally replied.

  I continued to complain about random things. Then I began to sing commercial jingles. When I’d run out of jingles, I sang all the tunes I could think of that Wyatt detested. Not that the elves had similar music tastes to Wyatt. They’d probably hate his dubstep just as much as the Carpenters’ songs I was belting out.

  “I can’t take this,” one guard said to another. “Can we just gate her to the border and say we walked.”

  The other guards looked uneasy. Taullian wasn’t in a good mood. An infraction would likely result in an over–the–top, harsh punishment. Smiling, I began a new song. A song about the sweetness of love, about birds singing, flowers blooming, and sunshine shining.

  “Can we gag her?” one of the elves asked hopefully. I’d like to see them try.

  “Better not,” another responded, seeing my maniacal grin.

  I continued to sing the saccharine song, the elves cringing with every note. Encouraged by their reaction, I increased the volume and added some dramatic gestures. Faces twisted and several put their hands over their pointed ears. I swear I heard their teeth grind. Still we clomped through the forest, as I belted out the chorus, all about loved ones hurting each other and making each other cry.

  “Let’s just gate her out of here,” one pleaded. “I don’t think I can take three days of this.”

  Fuck. Three days? They intended to keep me walking, non–stop for three days? We’ll see about that. I walked over to one of the elves and began serenading him personally with dramatic intonation and gestures.

  “Nothing His Lordship would do to us could possibly be worse than this. Nothing. Where does she get these horrible songs?” A few of the other guards nodded.

  I moved on to another elf, so he wouldn’t feel neglected. I wouldn’t have any problem keeping this up for three days. Who would break first? I was betting it would be the elves.

  “Stop. Just stop already. You win.”

  I smiled.

  “He’ll kill us,” another guard argued. “Just stuff pinecones in your ears or something.”

  “Can you take any more? If she’s this bad now, imagine how much worse it’s going to get by tomorrow,” another argued back.

  “I know a lot of songs,” I assured them. I couldn’t wait until I started singing Air Supply and they began voiding their bowels. Wyatt had told me their music had that effect. I was sure it was something subliminal.

  “Let’s strap her across one of the horses and ride as fast as we can. We could be there in twenty four hours.”

  They all looked at me nervously. I started to hum.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to risk offending the Iblis by strapping her across a horse like a deer carcass. His Lordship might be powerful enough for that sort of thing, but I’m not.”

  There were a few nods, then the original elf, the one who pleaded with the others to use the gate, spoke up.

  “We use the gate, take our time getting back, and say we ended up hauling her there like cargo on a horse. Deal?”

  None of them looked thrilled, but they finally agreed to the plan. We continued until we found a suitable spot in a clearing. The elves checked the trees, and one even climbed up to peer above the canopy. They were like monkeys, darting around and hopping from limb to limb. That done, they marked a circle of trees, setting up a perimeter to keep anyone from detecting the gate. With a wave of a hand and a flash, a haze appeared in the air before us, big enough for elf, demon, and horse to pass through two abreast. It was a big gate, no doubt to ensure I didn’t escape in passage. No wonder they’d taken such precautions. The kind of energy blast it took to create a temporary gate this large would be felt for miles without their protective circle. The angels had a far more efficient means of moving about inside a realm, but even this overkill of an elven gate was beyond my abilities.

  Two guards on horseback went through first, then I followed with a guard by my side and another leading my escort’s horse at the rear. We appeared in a forest clearing that looked just like the one we’d left. My partner got back on his horse and within ten minutes, I saw the brightening light signaling the edge of the forest and the Elven lands. We stopped right inside the tree line, and I looked out upon the expanse of dry, dusty scrub. This wasn’t the boundary of the Western Red Forest. Where had they taken me? I looked up at one of the guards quizzically, totally disoriented. He dismounted and taking my arm, walked me toward the border.

  Trees thinned and I saw the swirls of red rise in dust devils around the thorny bushes. A hot shimmer hazed the horizon where large boulders stood. Suddenly I realized where we were. Dis. Haagenti’s lands. They’d delivered me right to him. I jerked my arm away from the guard and halted.

  “Fuckers,” I hissed. “It’s one thing to throw me out on my ass, but another to serve me up to my enemy.”

  The guard shot a quick look back at his companions and took my arm again. “It would have been far worse if you’d been tired and hungry after marching for days,” he whispered.

  I walked slowly, searching the haze for figures, for signs of demons coming to collect me. “Did that asshole of an elf tell them I would be here? Are they going to grab me the moment I step foot out of the forest?”

  He shook his head, urging me forward. “We’re here much earlier than we were supposed to be. One of us will signal him as we leave, but they’re further away than they had intended. They’ll be coming for you from the south. There is an angel gate into Seville about an hour to the east as the crow flies. Don’t shelter in the edges of the Elven forests. All the kingdoms have been warned to shoot on sight. There is a price on your head. And the demons regularly patrol the borders now, too.”

  Bolt to the east, as fast and as stealthily as I could, and make it through the gate to Seville. Or I could just summon Gregory and have him yank me out of here. Or I could just get this all over with. The angel was right. It was wa
y past time. Time to do what I needed to.

  I paused at the forest edge, the front of my boot on the hard–packed red dirt with its light dusting of ultra–fine sand, the rest of my foot on lush, green, loamy moss. The elves did love their forests.

  “Thank you,” I told the guard. And I stepped out into the suffocating heat that stole my breath and burned my skin. It was time.

  29

  I headed due south, wishing this oilcloth coat didn’t feel so damned hot, wishing I could change into my familiar reptile form that was better suited to this temperature. But I wasn’t about to abandon Wyatt’s gifts, or Kirby’s marble and notes, and I needed this human form right now. This was who I’d become. This human shape was more than just a skin I wore. I’d been Samantha Martin in more than appearance for over forty years, and somehow that had changed me. If I went back to my old self, my old form, I’d be giving up all I’d become. Az the little imp could never hope to defeat Haagenti, but Az the Iblis had at least a snowflake’s chance in Hel. And Az the Iblis was more than a demon; she was a demon who had somehow become slightly human. Samantha Martin, Wyatt, and all my friends had done this for me, and I wasn’t about to disgrace what I had become by reverting to a common imp the moment the going got tough. So forward I went, sweating between the blistering sky and sand.

  That guard wasn’t kidding. We were early. I’d walked for over an hour before I saw figures far ahead in the haze. Some were large, some small, of all shapes and sizes. I counted nearly twenty, although it was difficult to be sure at this distance. Haagenti had brought a lot of back–up. It gave me a shot of confidence to think that I’d shaken him up so much at Taullian’s party that he brought along twenty other demons, just in case. I tried to think of something that would help me hold onto my faltering mojo as we approached each other across the blur of red dust.

  Gregory had urged me to do a “mighty show of power”, which would work for an angel that had to be at least six billion years old. But how could an imp possibly pull it off? Yes, I was the Iblis, but it wasn’t the powerful title the angels seemed to think it was. None of the demons cared. Being Ha–satan impressed no one. And I just didn’t have the presence or the strength to intimidate demons many levels above me.