Angel of Chaos

by Debra Dunbar

  “Okay, Baby–Daddy, time to answer some questions.” I crushed it in my hand, pulverizing it with the aid of a small bit of energy. Gold swirled out from between my clenched fingers, rising up past the treetops before vanishing.

  Nothing. But it’s not like I expected an instant summoning, or anything. I sat down with my back against a boulder and watched cat videos on my cell phone while Diablo grazed by my side. I was beginning to wonder if I would need to call Nyalla and extend my hour to several when an angel appeared in a flash of light.

  “Bout damned time.” I stood and stretched, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. “Three favors don’t mean shit if it takes you forty minutes to respond when I call.”

  The angel folded his arms in front of him with a show of arrogance. “Favor. I’ll show up when I can, but I’m not going to come racing to your side every time you call. Now, what do you want?”

  “A Hunter showed up this morning and attacked us. Harper is gone.”

  He blanched, which was an impressive feat given his customary pallor. “What? Gone where? Is the baby safe?”

  Baby. Not ‘is Harper safe’. Asshole. “I was hoping you’d be able to track her. She is carrying your baby, after all.”

  “I can’t!” Ben struggled to control himself. “As soon as I impregnated her … the baby must be imparting some of his skills to her.”

  Just as I’d thought. “I managed to catch the Hunter, but I can’t safeguard Harper per my vow if I can’t find her.”

  The angel relaxed. “You killed the Hunter? There won’t be another for a few days at the most. She can’t have gone far. She doesn’t know anyone in this area and has no money. I’ll track her down.”

  “Maybe she’ll come back.” I watched the angel closely.

  He shook his head, a smug smile on his face. “Maybe not. She knows you can’t protect her. She must be terribly afraid. If the Iblis can’t protect her, she won’t have any other option.”

  No option but to do what this angel wanted of her — give up her baby into his safekeeping.

  “But I did protect her. I can take care of any other Hunter that shows up. It’s no big deal for me to take them out one at a time. She’s safe.”

  I practically heard him grind his teeth. “How long can you keep this up, though? No, she’s not safe here.” Ben took a few steps back and looked around him, as if he expected to see Harper running across the field. “I’ll track her down, but her safety is on your head, demon. If you fail to protect her, there will be no favors.”

  He vanished, and I watched Diablo graze. This time the smug smile was on my face. The trap was set. Now I had only to wait. And keep Harper safe from harm.

  –11–

  Dar!” I grabbed my foster brother in a tight hug. He bit me on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood — a more demonic greeting than the one I was using.

  “I got the goods.” He waved what looked like a shopping bag at me. “Relayed your problem to Gareth, and he sent you cool shit.”

  I knew the sorcerer would come through for me. Grabbing the bag, I started removing items. Three elven nets, a velvet sack holding black crystal marbles, a wand, an elf button, and a silver collar. I shivered as I touched the collar, remembering the feel of having one around my own neck. As much as I hated to see the thing, I couldn’t exactly keep that angel in a bag forever. Besides, I needed the extra nets in case more of them showed up.

  “You’re lucky he had one.” Dar nodded toward the collar. “No one knows how to make them anymore, and all the others were destroyed in an unexpected explosion.”

  Unexpected for the elves. Not so unexpected for Dar and his buddies.

  “Awesome. Help me get this guy down, will you?”

  Dar trailed after me as we skirted the pool and headed for the barn. Once there, he smiled appreciatively at my handiwork.

  “Is he filled with candy?”

  It was amazing how much we thought alike. “Nah. I hit him a bunch of times and all he did was bleed. Grab the end of that rope and—.”

  I watched the angel plummet to the ground, shrieking the whole way. Dar was holding the end of a singed rope in one hand.

  “Oops.”

  “Here.” I extended my hand and Dar took the collar from me.

  I had this vague idea that I’d restrain the angel — physically as well as with my newfound angel skills, while Dar removed the net and secured him with the collar. My captive was a whole lot older than me, but I hoped my position on the Ruling Council as the Iblis would give me some kind of hierarchy edge over him. I nodded to Dar, mouthing the words one, two, three.

  Jumping on top of the angel, I wrapped my hands around what I hoped was his neck and held him down. Dar pulled open the top of the net and we both saw a pair of feet.

  “Damn it, Mal, you’re sitting on his head.”

  I had my hands wrapped around his ankles, too. I scooted forward a bit, wiggling around as Dar shifted the net to get to the angel’s head. As soon as the guy’s face was free, he lunged up and bit me on the ass.

  “Hurry the fuck up!” Tears came to my eyes as the angel bit down harder and worked a foot loose to kick me in the face.

  “Got him!”

  I was hoping the collar had the same effect on angels as it did demons. After all, the net worked. Wrangling his legs into a better position, I twisted my ass free and felt Dar remove the net from the angel.

  All hell broke loose. Free of the elven net, he launched into a frenzied physical attack. I was surprised — angels, in my experience, didn’t tend to have any sort of pugilist or martial–arts skills. This one did. The right hook to my kidney doubled me over, and an amazingly strong abdominal move launched me forward to smash my nose into his sharp, bony knee. I saw stars, and in a frenzy of motion, he’d dumped me off of him.

  “Whoa! We’ve got a lively one here!”

  Dar sounded cheerful. As I rolled over and jumped to my feet, I saw why. The collar worked. The angel wasn’t teleporting, wasn’t launching white stuff at us, wasn’t doing anything but dance around like a junkie high on smack, yanking futilely at the band of silver around his neck.

  We circled, jumping forward to try and get a good hold on him. In spite of his distress over the collar, he still managed to fight us off, landing some admirable blows. Fuck this. It was time to bring out the big guns. I reached behind me and grabbed two poles, tossing one to Dar.

  They were cable slip snares mounted on poles, commonly used to catch gators. Not that we had gators in Maryland, but any state with a sizable hunting population carried supplies for any sport.

  “Wish we had a snatch hook,” Dar grumbled.

  Me too. Or a bang stick. I didn’t want to risk injuring the angel further, though — especially when he’d be unable to heal himself. Eventually I’d have to kill him, but as long as he was alive, I might be able to use him as a bargaining chip. And keep from signing my own execution warrant.

  With alligators, the best position to snare is past the head, where the front legs can be pinned to the body. When they thrash and roll, there’s leverage and no crack–the–whip effect like there would be if the snare was around their jaws. I’d planned to do the same with the angel, and since he didn’t have a tail, I hoped Dar could loop his legs once I got him down.

  The angel might know how to swing his fists, but he had no fucking idea what we were going to do with our poles. He kept attempting defensive maneuvers, as if we were going to bust out a shaolin move on him from a kung fu movie. Dar noticed it too, and with a dramatic swing of his stick that would have done Jackie Chan proud, he distracted the angel. I looped him and tightened the noose around his shoulders. Instead of dropping and rolling like a gator, he charged me. I ran backwards, trying to keep my line tight so it wouldn’t slip down. With his attention on me, Dar managed to run up and trip the angel, giving him the perfect opening to loop his legs.

  We had him. Silver collar around his neck, my snare holding his shoulders, and Dar
’s holding his legs around the knees. We dragged him with some difficulty back toward the barn, and I jammed the end of my stick into a flag holder. Dar held his end taught, drawing the angel out full length between the two poles. I jumped over our prey to run into the barn and grab two silver rolls off a bench before dashing back out.

  “Hurry the fuck up.” Dar’s arm muscles bulged as he held the angel in place. When had he gotten so buff? Normally my brother liked to sport a nice layer of fat to reinforce his rich–and–lazy status, but in the past few months it had all disappeared to be replaced with sinewy muscle.

  I blinked, regaining my focus, and straddled the angel. Then I began to duct tape his arms to his torso, and his legs together. By the time I was done, he resembled a shiny, gray mummy. For good measure, I even slapped a piece over his mouth. I’d need him to talk later, but ripping it off his face would be so much fun.

  We both stood back, panting as we admired our hog–tied (or rather hog–taped) angel.

  “Where do you want him?”

  I was tempted to reply that I wanted him mounted over my fireplace, but over the last few years I’d managed to acquire a small measure of self–preservation.

  “Basement.”

  Dar grunted, and we both grabbed our respective poles, dragging the duct–taped angel across the flagstone, in through the French doors, and down the stairs to my cellar. There we left him, snares and all, and ventured back upstairs for a cold beer. Hey, we deserved it.

  We sat in companionable silence on the sectional sofa, sipping our beers and catching our breath. Now that Dar was part of my household, I saw him more than I used to. It was a perk, in my opinion. He might get me into hot water with every breath he took, but I loved him. Life was more fun with Dar around.

  “Dude, thanks for bringing my crap over from Gareth. And thanks for helping with that angel.”

  He raised his glass in a toast. “Anytime you want me to beat the shit out of an angel, just call. I’m always up for that sort of action.”

  I hid a smile behind my bottle of Bud Light. “How are things back home?”

  Home. Hel. Which was only one of the places I seemed to be considering home lately. There was my place here, and that weird spot in the fourth circle of Aaru that I unintentionally transported myself to every time I tried to gate somewhere. Was it normal to have three homes? And since when did I give a shit about what was normal?

  Dar took a long pull on his beer, draining half the bottle in one gulp. “Mal, you need to get your ass back to Hel and deal with all the shit you stirred up. There’s only so much Leethu and I can do in your absence. Li is putting all sorts of ridiculous conditions on freeing their humans; there was an assassination attempt on Taullian, and Kllee refuses to close their traps, saying they’re exempt since they allow humans to return home if they wish.”

  Stupid elves. Pointy–eared motherfuckers would be the death of me.

  “I can’t. Most of the stuff Gareth sent over is to protect a human I’ve vowed to defend. The Ruling Council bullshit has increased tenfold, and I can’t leave her with only a wand and Boomer while I’m in Hel for weeks.”

  Dar shook his head. “Well, everything is going to Aaru in a handbasket.”

  I winced. Shit. Shit. I just couldn’t manage everything I’d taken on. Too many irons in the fire, bitten off more than I could chew, and all those other clichés.

  “How is the human settlement working out?”

  “Okay so far. Even with Ahriman dead, Gareth and the other magicians have developed a solid trade with the other demons. They’ve got protection under your name and that of a few high–level demons, which extends to the humans living in the settlement.”

  At least that was going well. Hopefully all the trouble with the elves could wait until Harper gave birth. Not that I expected the shit storm to end when the baby was born.

  “Do you remember Dregvant?” Dar’s eyes sparkled, which let me know he’d moved on to a particularly juicy piece of gossip. My brother loved to stir the pot and especially loved showing off how he knew everyone else’s business. “He’s been running around bragging that he has a breeding contract with an angel.”

  My eyes about left my head. This cut a bit close to home given what Rafael and I had discussed. Not that I should be surprised it was coming up in conversation. Rumors of my and Gregory’s relationship were all over Hel, and the angels were certainly buzzing about it in Aaru too. It was just a matter of time before this sort of thing would be attempted. If it weren’t someone stretching the truth, that is. Demons lied, but that seemed to be way too creative for Dregvant.

  “Who? When? Where?”

  Dar’s grin was smug. He prided himself on knowing all the good stuff. “A minor angel named Eirnilius.”

  I’d never heard of him. “Are you sure?”

  Some of the angels had gotten together and decided to end the long infertility spell in heaven by capturing demons and parting them out for breeding purposes. That I could see. What I couldn’t see was one of them deciding to do the nasty and breed the more traditional way. Gregory aside, most angels agreed with the separations imposed by the treaty we’d both signed two–and–a–half–million years ago. Rumors, yeah. Some demon trying to make himself look important by lying, yeah. An actual breeding contract? No.

  “He’s got some knowledge and baubles that I can’t see him getting any other way.” Dar grinned, slouching back into the sofa cushions.

  “Eirnilius.” I finished off my beer and sat it with a clink on the coffee table. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything else about this angel, would you?”

  If I could manage to get some dirt on the angels, then maybe I could leverage it for Harper’s protection. Or my protection for harboring her and the Nephilim. Or just rub their smug hypocritical faces in it. I’d been jumping through their four–nine–five hoops, trotting back and forth to their angel prison for the last two years. Time for some paybacks.

  “Well, he’s from the first choir.”

  My breath lodged in my throat, and my heart raced like a Formula One car. The first choir belonged to Gabriel. Pious, sanctimonious piece–of–shit Gabriel. What I wouldn’t give to hold this one over his head. If only I was sure it was true. Oh, by the fates, let it be true.

  “How would they have met? Is this Eirnilus one of Gregory’s staff? Or a gate guardian? They’re the only angels I know of that would have enough contact with demons to negotiate this sort of thing.”

  Dar lifted a shoulder and drained the rest of his beer. “I don’t know, although I was thinking the same. Bet you’d like to catch him, huh? An angel violating the treaty — it would definitely ruffle feathers on the Ruling Council.”

  I recognized the tone in Dar’s voice and nodded, trying for an air of mild interest. “Well, yeah. But I’d need proof. Can’t exactly put my ass on the line with a bunch of rumors, now, can I?”

  “I’ve got proof, but it will cost you.”

  This was the Dar I knew and loved. “Cost me what, exactly?”

  My brother waved his empty beer bottle at me. “I’ll get to that later. Do we have a deal?”

  I sighed and gave him my vow, with the standard disclaimers, terms, and conditions.

  “They’re to meet tomorrow at this address.”

  I took the offered slip of skin parchment, noting the location with amusement. Gabriel was going to shit a brick if this was true. The thought filled me with unholy glee. But as much as I wanted to rub this in that smug bastard’s face, I didn’t want to have this whole thing backfire on me.

  “So? An angel and a demon meet. This Eirnilius could always claim it was an accidental meeting, and that he was going to kill Dregvant, or report him or something. This isn’t worth much to me.”

  “Dregvant claims to have a proposed breeding contract signed with Eirnilius’ sigil.”

  Now that was something. Even if it turned out to not be true, it was worth my time to check into it and see what I could find.

&n
bsp; “Did I mention how much I love you, Dar? You’re my most favorite brother ever?”

  He squirmed and glared at me. Those were fighting words among demons, but Dar knew I was just being my usual, irritating self.

  “Yeah, well you’re going to have to live without the services of my glorious self for a few months. I need a vacation. Like right now. That’s my payment for this information.”

  “What about the elven kingdoms you’re overseeing? You’re my main demon in Hel, Dar. Can’t this wait?”

  He snarled, and I saw weariness beneath the show of ferocity. “Damn it all, Mal. Get someone else to do your shit. Persilium, or one of Ahriman’s former household — they’re eager to prove themselves to you. We had a deal. You gave me your vow.”

  He’d busted ass for me the last year, which more than made up for all the hot water he’d gotten me into with Haagenti. It was sort of his fault I was saddled with this stupid sword and Iblis title, but he’d been more loyal than any demon I’d ever known. And he really did need a vacation.

  “Okay, okay. Don’t get your tail in a knot. Vacation it is. I have no idea where I’m going to put you, though. I’ve got a house full of humans right now. Do you mind sleeping in the baby nursery? Or maybe you can crash on the sofa?”

  Dar wrinkled his nose. “You’re fucking kidding me, Mal. I don’t want to vacation at your house. You’ll be knee deep in some shit by breakfast tomorrow and dragging me into it with you. I’ll be in Chicago. If you need me, call Leethu. Or Radl. Or anyone but me.”

  Chicago. I gave him a suspicious glance. “Why Chicago?”

  He stared meaningfully at the empty bottle. I opened a full beer and passed it to him. “There are a couple of politicians I need to meet with, and a building on the west side that is in sorry need of redecorating.”

  Corruption and blowing up a high rise. Standard stuff for Dar, but I had to be sure. “There’s also a big security conference going on.”

  Dar snorted. “Yeah. Right. Not my thing at all. Your human is more likely to be crashing computers and embezzling funds than I am.” He gave me a sharp, perceptive look. “Ah, so the lovely Wyatt will be in Chicago. Hmm. I wonder if he’d like to play.”