by Debra Dunbar
“Where is your home? I will return you there.” Gregory’s voice resonated through me, gave me resolve. It didn’t have the same effect on the troll.
“Angelesoran! Aaaaah, projelianjak me.”
I manifested claws sharp and long enough to dig into this troll’s knee. “I am here. Are you from Hel? I promise to safeguard your return.”
She screamed and flung me from her leg. I took a chunk of flesh with me and watched as she rolled down into the murky ditch and bounded over the broken Jersey wall into the roadway. It all happened in slow motion. The troll staggering across four lanes, an eighteen-wheeler locking his breaks as he tried to stop.
I caught my breath. Troll splattered all over the roadway was bad enough. Troll puree plus twisted tractor-trailer and a multi-car pile-up would be horrific. Or epic. I wasn’t sure which.
Beside me I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a curse. There was a flash of light. and everything on the highway froze. Cars and trucks were mid slide, bits of tire and gravel suspended in the air. My heartbeat slowed, each thump drawn out. One by one, the vehicles shimmered, looking almost pixelated as they realigned. With another flash of light, everything sprang into motion. Tires squealed as cars barely avoided collision. The semi missed flattening the troll by inches, obstructing her from view. In the second it took the truck to roar by, she was gone, shaking trees on the opposite side of the roadway the only indication of her passing.
Adrenaline dropped, leaving me with shaky legs. It wasn’t the troll’s near-death experience that had me nearly trembling out of my boots, it was what Gregory had done.
“You stopped time.” I sounded like I was accusing him of some misdeed, but, in reality, I was awestruck. I knew he was powerful, but damn skippy.
“Limited radius and affect.” He gave me a weary smile, and I realized how much that particular trick had taken out of him. “Time freezes in one area, then there is a slowing of time extending outward from there, gradually diminishing. It’s important to phase it out or normal time collides against the section you’ve held.”
Collides. I envisioned oncoming traffic smashing against the cars and trucks locked in still frame. Not only would the ensuing accidents defeat the purpose, but the impact would ripple back to the angel. A momentary loss of concentration brought with it the risk that every atom held in time would jump ahead in time, or even fracture. Bad stuff. Really bad stuff. Like massive-nuclear-explosion bad stuff.
“I can show you how to do this. We’ll start on a molecular level. With a few million years of practice, you should be able to stop time within a ten-foot circle.”
I loved his lectures. I had so much to learn from this angel. The prospect of millions of years of regular practice made me want to run for the hills, but I’d love to understand the mechanics behind the concept.
But I had other things to do. A whole lot of other things to do. I turned to look the dead elf. “Maybe we can work on it after I find this missing gem.”
And closing the gates. And the million other things on my to-do list. A bedraggled angel approached, wearing a sheepish expression as he smoothed his striped hair back into order. Behind him approached Eloa, dust from the concrete Jersey wall making his pale face even more ghostly.
“One troll takes down two angels.” I shook my head and made a tsk noise. “So much for superior vibration patterns.”
Zebra angel scowled. “We weren’t expecting to see a troll in Intercourse.”
Neither was I. And in all fairness, female trolls are larger and quicker to attack than their male counterparts.
“I seem to remember a certain imp who couldn’t manage to hold onto the troll’s leg.”
I snorted. “I’d like to see you try. Should we track her down? Go find the gateway and close it? What’s next, oh mighty angel?”
“I can find and deal with the troll, Ancient Revered One, while you deal with more important matters.” Eloa smiled angelically.
Ass kisser. And Gregory soaked it all up. “Thank you, Eloa. Just locate the troll, and I’ll ensure she’s returned to Hel without harm.”
“She’s probably holed up under a bridge,” I told Eloa. “They blend in really well, so you’ll need to look carefully.”
“Or just follow his nose,” zebra angel commented.
Guess that left us with closing the gateway, then me trying to track down the demon Pouchain and hopefully retrieving Gareth’s gem once and for all.
“Sir, shall we give the remains proper mourning in Aaru?” Eloa motioned to the dead elf.
Gregory shook his head. “No. He should be returned to his family in Hel so they can perform the appropriate burial. Cockroach, can you coordinate this? We’re locating and closing a gate to Hel. You can go through with the remains, and I’ll close it after you.”
I opened my mouth to refuse. Swifty was an exile, and I doubted anyone would be mourning him. But showing up at Gareth’s shop with a dead body and no gem might inspire the sorcerer to reveal additional information about the magical item and the reasons why an elf would steal it and cross the gates.
My hopes of completing this task were rapidly dimming, but there was still a faint chance I could catch up with the demon and retrieve the gem before he sold it—as long as I knew who a potential buyer would be. It was pretty close to impossible to intercept the gem mid transaction if I didn’t know who would be interested in such a thing.
“Yep. No problem.” I hoisted the dead elf on my shoulder and set out in the direction the troll had come from. Hopefully she hadn’t traveled far, because I really wanted to be in Hel before nightfall.
Chapter 15
That’s not Swiftherian.”
Gareth seemed uncomfortable with the dead elf on his shop counter. I’m not sure why. It’s not like the corpse smelled bad or anything. Dead elves always kind of smelled like potting soil and warm mulch.
The sorcerer’s words finally sank into my brain. I blame it on the lack of sleep. And food. And coffee. “It’s not? Damn, how many elves are running around over there? I was pretty sure your boy was the only one.”
“It’s not him.”
I was beginning to think it wasn’t the corpse that was the source of Gareth’s unease. The sorcerer began to pace, rubbing his hands together in an agitated circular motion.
“I’ll go back and keep looking, but it would really help if you were straight with me and gave me all the info.” I waited until Gareth paused, and then I continued. “An elf works with you on creating a spell enhancer that isn’t of any use to elves. His association with you gets him banished, which I take it he knew the risks of beforehand. Then he hides out in Eresh with demons, selling pretty much everything he owns but this spell enhancer, pays a demon to guide him around the other side of the gates. Why? He can’t use a spell enhancer, and the demons and human magic users he’s most likely to sell it to are here. Why risk getting killed by a bus, surrounded by humans and technology he doesn’t understand, with a magical item in his possession that is useless to him?”
Gareth picked up a birch stave and ran a thumb along its length. “I don’t know.”
Liar. “What happens if he finds a buyer for this thing or uses it himself? Or why do you want it back so badly that you’ll clear my considerable debt to retrieve it?”
The sorcerer sighed. “It started out as a spell enhancer, but as I worked on it, I realized there was the possibility it could enhance more than just spells. That’s when I approached Swiftethian.”
I didn’t like the direction this was heading one bit. “Go on.”
“Ancient texts say it’s possible. In theory. Many have tried before to create one, but it’s always been an unsuccessful endeavor. Heck, for all I know, this one doesn’t work either, but I don’t want to take that chance.”
“What does it do? What does it enhance beyond spells?”
“The caster.” Gareth let that sink in before he continued. “I thought this particular spell might be used on the caste
r with some modification, but I needed a skilled elf to help. Swiftethian is well known in magical circles. He’s trained many mages and has centuries of arcane knowledge. We never tested it, though. I’m not sure it works.”
There was so much truth mixed in with the lies that I didn’t know what to believe, so I clamped my teeth together and remained silent, waiting for the agitated sorcerer to continue.
“It’s a collaboration. Elves have a different kind of magic, which is why they have enslaved us and trained us in the magical arts for so many centuries. We can do things they can’t—dark things beyond their abilities. I thought adding Swifthethian’s magic would give the spell something extra, but our initial efforts were failures. I doubt this one works either.”
I frowned. So this elf gets banished and steals a gem, hoping to pawn it off as something more powerful than it is? For what? None of this made sense. How would stealing a gem, even if it enhanced a spell caster’s ability, benefit the elf? And why was Gareth so desperate to get it back if he doubted it worked at all.
“Nobody knew but the pair of us.” The sorcerer answered my unspoken question. “And it only works on the caster, which means a human magic user. That’s why I can’t figure out why he would steal it, let alone carry it across the gates.”
“So an elf can’t use it, a demon can’t use it, an untrained human can’t use it?”
Gareth squirmed. “The original purpose was to enhance a certain class of spells; modified, it should enhance any type of spell a magic user casts.”
“So it doesn’t enhance the caster, but a broader range of spells?”
“No, it does enhance the caster. It makes them a more powerful mage.”
Seemed like the same thing to me. My head was pounding with the mix of truth and lies, and the cloying smell of mulch coming from the dead elf was beginning to turn my stomach. “Please tell me this gem is a one-use only item.”
Gareth rubbed a hand over his baldpate. “We’re low on the food chain here. Demons are the heavy hitters and a huge threat to any human without alliances. Heck, they’re a threat even with alliances. There’s never any guarantees a capricious protector won’t rip your limbs off. We pay dearly for protection, but it’s not truly protection. Then there are the elves who take every opportunity to make our lives miserable enough that voluntary enslavement seems a good option. This gem was supposed to level the playing field, to give us humans a chance at equality and independence. None of us wants to spend the rest of our lives enslaved to elves or waiting for a demon to decide we’re a fun play-toy.”
So I was taking that as a ‘no’. And I needed to assume the gem had unlimited charges, allowing a mage who could barely cast a circle to fly through the air and shit like that.
And I totally understood why Gareth wanted it back, wanted the humans in Hel to have some sort of ability to control their destiny while surrounded by alpha predators on one side, and manipulative, self-centered elves on the other, but that didn’t make this a priority. I wanted to resolve my debt to the sorcerer, but this was sliding down my list by a mile.
“Gareth.” I waited for him to look up and meet my eyes. “I’m going to continue to look for this elf instead of refusing the task because I see how important the gem is to you, but it may take me a few weeks.” Or months. Or years.
He nodded. “I understand.”
I looked down at the body on the counter. “Then who is this, and what is another elf doing running around on the other side of the gates?”
“No idea.” Gareth gestured toward the body. “I can’t imagine he would have been a buyer. Maybe his presence there was a coincidence?”
“Two elves within two days after millions of years? Some coincidence.” Although it would be the ultimate irony if Swifty’s buyer had been beaten to death by a troll before he could close on his purchase. An unlikely coincidence seemed more plausible than an elf buying a magical item he couldn’t use.
But I didn’t have time to ponder the elves and their weird habits. I needed to get back and help Gregory find the Veil Orias stole and shut down any open gateways. Gareth’s problem would just have to wait.
Chapter 16
I wiggled my toes, admiring the whitish-lavender tint Terrelle had assured me was all the rage this summer. I was in a holding pattern, waiting for some news on Orias and the Veil, or anything to do with Gareth’s stolen gem. As soon as I’d returned from Hel, Gregory and I had shut down the manticore gate, located and shut down the melusine gate, then picked up take-out barbeque on the way back to my house.
And now I was at the spa with my buddies, relaxing for the first time in months. Candy was in the chair next to me, passing around photos of her granddaughter—both in human and in wolf form. I must admit the fuzzy grey-and-white pup with a bold black mask was slightly more attractive than the baby’s red-faced, squalling infant form.
“She’s adorable,” Nyalla gushed as Terrelle looked on in obvious discomfort. “What’s her name?”
“Azreala.” Candy gave me a quick smile. “Seemed fitting to name my daughter’s firstborn after the Iblis, and both parents agreed.”
It was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. My heart felt ready to explode out of my chest, and I snatched the little booklet of photos to look at them again. Iblis-Smiblish. I knew what Candy meant, and it wasn’t my title that had inspired the baby’s name; it was our friendship. I’d never had anyone who cared enough about me to have their first grandchild given my name. I stared down at the pictures, trying to divine the infant’s future through the glossy photos of a newborn. Her eyes barely focused, foggy blue both in human’s and wolf-pup’s face. Still, I felt lines unravel like yarn from a ball, stretching out before me in a complex web of interaction.
“Strong, like her grandmother,” I announced. “Smart and determined. She’ll be an alpha, but will most likely need to hold her position by force. She’ll have a difficult choice in love—a werewolf that will solidify her position in her pack, or someone outside her species that will make her path more difficult.”
I handed the book back to Candy and saw her rueful smile. “She’ll pick the hard road. Especially if she’s anything like me.”
“How are things with Jay?” Nyalla asked. I felt like a total shit of a friend for not being the one to inquire. I knew Candy had been keeping her werewolf identity from her boyfriend for over a year, but the deception was wearing on her conscience, and the strain was causing problems between them.
Candy sighed, slipping the photo album in her purse. “I told him. I showed him. And ... we’re taking a bit of a break while he processes the whole thing.”
I yanked my feet free from the pedicurist and reached over to give my friend a one-armed hug. “He’ll come around.”
“He will or he won’t.” Her eyes were haunted as they met mine. “He was hinting at marriage, and I really wanted to get this all on the table before.”
“Would you have said ‘yes’?” I asked.
Candy’s jaw clamped firm. “I would. But not to a man who doesn’t love the entirety of me.”
I knew exactly what she meant. Nearly a thousand years it had taken to find someone who truly loved the weird combination that was me. Dar, as my brother, had come close, but even he struggled to understand the strange human-like emotions and urges I had. Even Wyatt, saint that he’d been, hadn’t fully reconciled himself to my demon half.
Gregory loved me. He loved a little cockroach of an imp with a whole lot of potential, but not a lot of skill. He’d loved a foul-mouthed, sensation-loving demon who held enough raw energy to blow up an entire state, who devoured, who did foolish reckless things and didn’t always put two-and-two together. He loved the only Angel of Chaos in two-and-a-half-million years, the imp who’d seized a part of his angel-essence, who’d defied him and mocked him at every turn. He loved me.
And, damn it all, I loved him too. My own asshole-angel. I only hoped Candy got that chance. She’d loved once, but deserved to have someone wh
o could partner with the person, the wolf, she was today. She needed another alpha to match her, and Jay might be human, but from what I’d seen, he was defiantly an alpha and her equal.
“If you need me to smack some sense into the man, let me know,” I told her, letting the esthetician once again take control of my feet.
“I don’t think this is a situation that calls for duct tape.” Candy lifted one eyebrow at me then turned a critical eye on her newly minted manicure.
“Every situation calls for duct tape,” Nyalla announced. That girl was beginning to scare me. She’d been so innocent and afraid when she’d arrived from Hel, but each month peeled back another layer to reveal a confident, oddly psychotic individual. Still innocent, but with a cheerful pragmatism when it came to the need for violence in certain situations. I liked to blame the ghoul incident, but I had a bad feeling my influence had weighed heavily on the woman she’d become.
Terrelle ignored the duct-tape and baby conversations, soaking in every bit of the spa experience. She’d been particularly fascinated by nail wraps and waxing. I swear there probably wasn’t a scrap of hair left on her body after that tiny dark-haired woman in the back had finished with her. I suspected the demon had a dinner date later with her.
“Harper is bringing baby Dallas by later,” Nyalla told me, her smile radiant.
Shit. I totally needed to find something to do for the rest of the evening. A baby in my house wasn’t my idea of a good time, even a Nephilim baby.
“Good to know.”
I relaxed back into the chair and scrolled through my texts and e-mails, trying to keep my mind off a baby potentially puking up breast milk on my oriental rug. Delete. Delete. Not delete. There was an e-mail from Wyatt, and I sucked in a breath, my hand shaking slightly as I hit the button to open it. I hadn’t heard from him in weeks.
Sam—there are unicorns in Lancaster, and a buddy sent me the attached picture.
Unicorns. I ground my teeth together, barely hearing the woman who was exfoliating my feet scold me in a blend of Korean and English. Taking a deep breath, I clicked to download the photo and crossed my fingers.