by Debra Dunbar
“You are so sweet to take her in like this.” Nyalla beamed at me. I looked guiltily down at my new boots. I was probably going to have to give them back. The loss of an awesome pair of Steve Maddens versus a disappointed Nyalla … yeah, I’d have to return them. Eventually.
“She’s really angry right now and worried about the future, but she’ll settle in. I know how overwhelming life changes can be. Can we use the other bedroom as the nursery? I know that will leave you without a guest bedroom for Dar and other demons, so maybe we should just put an addition on the house instead.”
If there was one thing Nyalla was good at, it was spending my money. I couldn’t seem to be mad at her though, even with my Corvette broken beyond repair and my safe half empty. It was a good idea. My household had reached astronomical proportions, and I needed to have more space to put people up. It would probably be wise to have a guesthouse to separate my demon family from the others.
Nursery?
My heart lodged somewhere in my esophagus, and my eyes locked on Nyalla’s thin waist and flat stomach. Holy shit on a stick, what had the girl gotten herself into?
“I’ll fucking kill him,” I snarled. Nyalla stared at me in surprise, far more composed in the face of my temper tantrum than she would have been this past summer. “Who knocked you up? That cop? The guy at the beach? Who got you pregnant?” If she refused to answer me, I’d kill both men just to be thorough. Nobody messed with mine. Nobody.
“Me?” she squeaked, her eyes round. “I’m not pregnant. I use the condoms that Candy bought for me. It’s Harper who’s pregnant. Didn’t you know? Isn’t that why you gave her asylum?”
Although I wanted to explore the notion that my prudish werewolf friend was supplying Nyalla with birth–control devices, my mind locked onto the other of the revelations.
“Harper? Pregnant?”
“Uh, yeah.” I heard the implied ‘duh’ in Nyalla’s voice. “She’s showing, Sam. How could you not notice? The woman looks ready to give birth any month now.”
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been blind to something right in front of my face. Gregory often told me I needed to pay more attention to details, to examine the obvious first before chasing improbable scenarios. Not that I intended on taking an angel’s advice on that one, even if it was an angel I loved and admired.
“Pregnant? I thought she just had really bad taste in clothing. I mean, her boots aside. That top is hideous. You could hide two linebackers in that thing. How the heck was I supposed to see a baby bump under twenty yards of gathered paisley fabric?”
Nyalla sighed and turned back to chopping bok choy, muttering under her breath about obtuse demons.
Harper, pregnant. I could think of only one reason an angel would have been so eager to gain asylum for a pregnant human that he would agree to my outlandish demand for three favors. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell me his choir or name. Blondie in the blue jeans had been a bad, bad boy. And I was so keeping these boots.
“Yes, she’s pregnant. She’s not too happy with the father right now either.”
Neither was I. My mind whirled, and I plopped down on one of the kitchen stools to think. Harper hadn’t looked pregnant to me, and I wasn’t sure how accurate Nyalla’s estimation of the woman’s due date was. Hopefully she was terribly wrong and the baby wouldn’t be arriving for another six months or so. What the fuck was I going to do with a human baby in my house? From what I’d seen, they seemed to require a whole lot of specialized crap, and they ate and pooped all the time. And screamed a lot. I couldn’t kill it, not after I’d sworn to protect the damned thing for its entire life.
“He just ditched her here, never to see her again?” I asked, half to Nyalla and half to myself. “Got her pregnant then dumped her off at Satan’s Home for Unwed Mothers?”
Nyalla stifled a giggle. “That’s funny, Sam. I don’t really know the details, just that she feels betrayed by him and is angry with herself for thinking she loved him. She’s confused.”
She’s confused? I didn’t know how to take care of a baby, let alone a Nephilim baby. Did I need to hire a couple of dwarves to foster the child? Bring them over from Hel? Would the kid be like the half–demon humans I’d seen over the centuries, or sort of angel–light? Shit.
“I guess we better start a nursery,” I said slowly, a little worried when I saw Nyalla’s radiant expression. “Do you know exactly when she’s due, or are you just guessing?”
“I don’t know exactly. I think maybe a few months, unless she’s having twins or something.”
Twins? My breathing went into overdrive, and I felt a panic attack close in on me. Paper bag. I needed a paper bag to breathe into before I fucking passed out. Two infants? There better not be two babies in that woman or I was going to lose it. Baby Daddy was in for a serious hurting the next time I saw him.
“Ooh, I can introduce her to Shelly and baby Jack, and Candy and Michelle. We can have a baby shower for her. Isn’t that a funny term? Like we’re going to drop babies down from the ceiling.”
Nyalla’s voice faded into the background, and I nodded, sure I was agreeing to all sorts of things I’d regret later. An angel had fucked around with a human and left me holding the bag. That pissed me off just as much as Gabriel’s unbending stance on those stupid reports. Angels. Only one of them wasn’t on my shit list right now — although Gregory tended to bounce back and forth between lists. And I guess Rafael was okay at the moment. The rest of them could go to hell.
I so wanted to rat this guy out to his higher–ups, rub it in their smug faces that they were screwing up the humans so much more than we demons had ever done. But I’d promised to protect Harper and all she carried across my threshold. If I told, I’d have an army at my door demanding I give up the woman and her unborn child.
Stupid vow. These shoes were so not worth it.
–4–
I woke up significantly after dawn, realizing that Gregory was perched behind me, sitting on the bed. I rolled over and met his eyes.
“That’s creepy, you know. It’s got to be nine o’clock in the morning. Why didn’t you wake me? Or better yet, crawl under the covers naked and get busy?”
My smile faded when he continued to stare at me, his black eyes serious. “There is a human woman in your house.”
My blood felt like it turned to liquid hydrogen. Harper. How had he known the woman was here? Damned angels.
“I have several women in my house. Nyalla likes to have friends stay over sometimes.”
I really sucked at lying, and growing a big–ass set of feathered wings didn’t seem to enhance that particular skill.
“One of Nyalla’s friends is pregnant.”
Shit. Shit, shit. “Yeah, humans do that breeding thing with frightening regularity. She’s got another friend that’s a widow with a baby. I can’t begin to tell you what a pain in the ass it is when she comes over. That thing smells like powder and laundry soap and makes these horrific cooing noises. Makes my skin crawl.”
“This one has lain with an angel.”
Shit. “It was me.” I forced a bland, hopefully truthful, expression onto my face. “Couldn’t help myself. She’s totally hot, and you know how fond I am of that particular sin.”
Gregory’s expression turned dark, black irises spreading outward to engulf his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Cockroach. I know the difference between demon and angel–marked humans; I know the difference in their offspring. I’ve killed too many Nephilim not to know the difference.”
I tensed. The only thing that kept me from going on the offensive and yanking out my sword was the note of sorrow in his voice. “Why kill them and leave the demon hybrids to live?”
He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, running a hand through his chestnut–colored curls. I relaxed slightly in response to his posture. He hardly looked like he was going to leap out of bed and skewer Harper with his sword.
“Demon/human hybrids are usually powerless, and I’m re
luctant to punish humans for our inability to keep demons on the other side of the border. Angel hybrids are dangerous and powerful. They can do great damage among the humans if left to live.”
“I’m calling bullshit on that.” I sat up, unconcerned at my nudity. Demons weren’t exactly modest, and I had a faint hope that Gregory might take notice of all the naked flesh and decide to do something about it. It didn’t work. His eyes remained north of my bustline, brows raised at my words. “Why aren’t you reluctant to punish humans for your own inability to keep your cocks in your pants? Just monitor the Nephilim, and if they fuck up, kill them. Don’t do some preemptive genocide and make up lame excuses to salve your conscience.”
His jaw tightened. Fists clenched my comforter, digging in hard. Gregory had always struggled with anger. Too bad. I was an imp. I lived to push everyone’s buttons.
With a deep breath, he relaxed his death grip on my bedding. “Demons can breed amongst themselves, so demon/human hybrids are a relatively rare occurrence. We can’t. If we don’t take a hard line on this, the Nephilim will outnumber the humans in a generation.”
“So kill the offending angels, not their innocent offspring.”
I actually felt a wave of sadness from him. Even without our physical bond, we still shared this connection. “Death is not nearly the deterrent you think it is, Cockroach. The loss of one you love, especially one of your creation, is far worse.”
I thought of his brother, how they’d fought against each other in the wars, how he’d probably died long ago, and I reached out to lay my hand on his arm. My spirit–self caressed comfortingly against his.
“I’m sorry.”
I still didn’t agree with the policy, which sounded far more demonic that something the angels should be capable of, but I hated to see that look on his face, to feel his pain of loss.
“That’s why Uri is gone.” His voice was low, and as he turned to look at me, I felt as though I could see right down into his soul. “She lost her life–mate and her only offspring in the war, as well as our brother. The guilt of turning her back on them has been too much for her, and she’s set aside her halo to walk in pilgrimage.”
I had no idea what the fuck that meant, but I rubbed along his arm in sympathy. “How long will she be gone?”
He shrugged. “Until she forgives herself. That might be an eternity.”
In the meantime her seat would remain empty, a placeholder as mine had been for millions of years. Gregory hadn’t given up on his brother, and he’d not give up on Uriel either. I sighed and rested my cheek against his arm, feeling the cool, smooth, inhuman surface against my skin.
“The question though, Cockroach, is what do you intend to do with this pregnant human and her offspring?”
I had no idea. “Flay the flesh from their bones and eat them?” More like ‘defend them with my life’, but that hardly seemed an action worthy of the Iblis.
Gregory turned his head to look down at me, his dark eyes solemn. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant what I’d said, or my unspoken response.
“How … how did you know she was here?” I suddenly thought of Rafael’s visit last evening. Had he also sensed Harper, realized the baby she carried was half–angel?”
“The energy signature of the baby. It’s faint, but even in utero, Nephilim show signs of their power. Some of it affects their mothers, making them resistant to magic and enthrallment, giving them strength. Once the child is born, the mother will be as she was before, and the Nephilim’s energy signature will spike.”
“And that’s how you track them?” Worry knotted my guts. “How far away would an angel have to be to detect the energy signature of the fetus?”
His eyes searched mine, and he reached out a hand to caress a lock of my hair. “I didn’t sense the Nephilim until I was actually inside your house. Even then I wasn’t sure until she got up late last night and walked near your bedroom door.”
Phew.
“Of course, Hunters have greater skills when it comes to sensing Nephilim energy signatures.”
Not so phew. “So am I to expect a bunch of these Hunters at my door? How great are their skills?”
He smiled. “Don’t concern yourself. Unless a Hunter happens to wander down your street, they’re unlikely to sense the Nephilim. Once it’s born — that’s when they’ll be knocking down your door to enact justice.”
Justice hardly seemed the correct word in this instance. Hopefully I’d have a few months to figure this all out. Hopefully longer. I frowned, trying to envision Harper’s round form under the voluminous shirt and calculate her due date. It was no use. I’d just have to ask the woman once I got back from my little stint in Aaru.
“Ready, Cockroach? We can’t be late to your punishment. Everyone is waiting.”
I should have realized by his words that something would be different, but I was too busy fretting over what to do with this stupid baby of Harper’s. Our trip through Aaru wasn’t the typical routine I’d grown accustomed to. This time we attracted a procession before we reached my punishment spot. I could feel the angels all around me, crowding as close as they dared with Gregory by my side. There was the usual fascination with my wings — which had burst into full view as soon as I’d arrived. I felt the angels’ curiosity, but also hatred. Their desire to do me harm scraped against me like a dulled knife. It was like a gallows walk, only I wasn’t heading for my death, and no one was throwing tomatoes at me.
I glanced at the big angel by my side, wishing I could edge closer to him. It wouldn’t look good for me to show any weakness. My sword would command respect, but I was also afraid it would seem like a challenge — or a prop to hide my fear.
“Wow, I’m not exactly feeling the love here. What’s going to happen when I take up permanent residence?”
Gregory gave me a stern look, but I saw him clamp his lips to keep from smiling. The angels around me sent up a buzz of rapid mind–speech.
“I hear there’s some nice real estate in the sixth circle. Or I might just lease Uriel’s, since she’ll be gone for a bit. No reason to keep the place empty when she could be turning a tidy profit.”
As we walked, I continued to discuss my pending relocation, decorative touches I’d implement, who I’d have visit me from Hel. Finally we arrived at a spot I recognized. Aaru was a wasteland of sensory deprivation, all white nothingness, but still a part of me felt the subtle changes as we moved from section to section. This was familiar. And so was the angel whose non–corporeal form approached.
“Gabriel will be overseeing your punishment this time.” Gregory’s voice was full of regret, and I felt a surge of irritation. This was supposed to be our time — illicit angel sex while incarcerated. My fantasies were all being shot to Hel.
I felt Gabriel’s smug satisfaction. I will ensure her vibration level improves with the experience. As she is so eager to take up residence, it is my responsibility to help her better fit in.
What? No! In spite of my comments about moving in, I hated Aaru with a passion. Being stripped of my physical form, deprived of my energy usage was terrifying. The only thing that made the experience tolerable was Gregory next to me, holding me and comforting me through the entire thirty–six hours. Gabriel hated me, and the feeling was mutual. I didn’t want him to see me panicking, didn’t want to hear him mocking me for my fear. How could the angel who professed to love me abandon me to this … jerk?
I felt his touch, reassuring along my spirit–self.
There is a crisis, Cockroach. Aaru is still experiencing rebellion.
I felt a twinge of remorse, remembering what Rafael had told me of their troubles. Again this stupid situation in Aaru was interfering with my life — with my love life. Rafi was right. I was going to have to insert myself into yet another ball of shit if I ever wanted my life to be the indolent fuck–fest I’d been dreaming of.
I understand. I did understand, but I still didn’t like it one bit.
I trust Gabe, and although you and he are like oil and water, you can trust him too.
He was gone before I could reply. Not that I knew what I would have said, anyway. I didn’t want to be that girl — the needy demon, pulling her archangel away from a crisis so he could hold her hand while she sat in jail. Instead, I turned to Gabriel and nodded.
“I’m ready.”
Suddenly it did feel like an execution. We moved forward, and I felt Gabriel’s touch. We’d fought physically many times before, but never had our spirit–selves gotten this close. I flinched instinctively. It wasn’t Gabe; it was all the nightmares of Ahriman that came flooding back to me. Gregory’s touch was far more intimate, and with him I felt none of this knee–jerk panic, but with another angel … it was just too close to everything I’d been through in Hel.
Gabe held very still, giving me space to compose myself. I talked myself down from the ledge, breathing deep. This might have been a solitary punishment in the past, but I had no doubt that thousands of angels watched me this time.
Dissolve.
My physical being vanished, and I metaphorically held my breath, trying to keep the panic at bay. This was Aaru. I wouldn’t die. I wouldn’t rip and tear, or come apart as I’d nearly done when I’d blown myself up on Oak Island. So many triggers, but like with my walk of shame, I needed to power through it and hide my weaknesses.
Only you angels could make being ‘naked’ so boring, I told Gabriel loud enough that the others could hear. And I’ve just had a Brazilian wax job, too. Completely wasted if I don’t have a body to show it off on.
Restrained.
I felt a silicone–like coating cover my store of raw energy. I was defenseless, unable to form a physical body or anything else. Surprisingly, that was far less frightening then Gabriel’s touch had been.