Kingdom of Lies (Imp Series Book 7)

by Debra Dunbar

  I blinked. The decorative stone statues were usually just below roof level, lining the building sides and redirecting rain runoff from the roof. This one was on the roof, crouched in the shadow of the other entrance. And the way he edged sideways into the light, his wings unfurling from his sides and his stooped shoulders rolling, made me realize he wasn’t merely a decorative rainspout.

  Gregory stood with his hands folded respectfully in front of him. The gargoyle stopped ten feet away. His wings spread to their full width. In response, the angel revealed his wings, holding them close to his body. I felt like I was watching some odd testosterone-filled dominance display. Not wanting to be left out, I revealed my wings. Wondering what would happen, I extended them to their fifty-foot spread and flapped a bit, just to make sure everyone noticed their matte-black, feathered glory. The gargoyle scowled, stretching his little pebbly wings as far as they could go. Gregory looked at me and rolled his eyes.

  “You told my Grigori that you would only speak to the Iblis. Well, here she is.”

  The gargoyle eyed me from the tip top of my head to my feet, still scowling. “Where is Samael?”

  Gregory didn’t flinch. Not one muscle in his body tightened at the mention of his youngest brother. His very stillness told me how much the mere name of Samael still hurt him. Yes, I knew him that well. “He’s dead.”

  I really had no idea, and I suddenly realized that any decent girlfriend, any life mate, would have checked into that for her beloved. Add that one to my to-do list. And move it closer to the top.

  “She’s an imp.” The gargoyle didn’t sound impressed at my demon type.

  “Yep, I am,” I chimed in. “Wanna see my sword?”

  Usually that offer was countered with panicked assurances that no one wanted to see my sword. It was rather insulting, actually. Everyone should want to see my sword.

  The gargoyle lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips as he considered my proposal. “Yes, I would.”

  I summoned my status symbol, my ceremonial weapon of office. Lately I’d been requesting it to take the form of a shotgun, as my shooting skills were infinitesimally better than my swordsmanship. Occasionally the sentient device overruled me. This was one of those times, and my shotgun appeared as a long steel rapier. Since I’d been expecting a firearm, I wound up holding the sword by the blade. The thing was fucking sharp. I hid a wince as my blood ran down the length of the blade and dripped onto the black roof.

  The gargoyle blinked twice, his stony eyebrows lifting. “I will accept the sword as proof that you hold the title of Iblis.”

  There was still a whole dump-truck load of doubt in his voice, but I let it slide right on by. I was used to being underestimated—in fact, I’d survived nearly a millennia because of that very trait. I didn’t really give a shit if this little boulder guy thought I was impressive or not. I’d been working a bit on my pride, but I was still far from proficient at that sin.

  “Will you share with us your knowledge?” Gregory’s voice was warm and friendly. Polite. He’d always been a make-the-orders and bash-heads-if-they-don’t-obey kind of angel that I was the one who was now blinking in astonishment.

  “Yes. I will.” The gargoyle’s tone was lofty. He snapped his wings tight against his body and smiled, showing long fangs the same gray as the rest of him. The dude was totally monochrome. I was digging it.

  Both of them stared at me. I stared back. Gregory cleared his throat.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I closed my wings against my body. Sheesh. How the hell was I supposed to know gargoyle etiquette? I was a demon, an imp for fuck sake.

  “My name is Dourado. I claimed this building two weeks ago and fly the city at night, patrolling the entire territory until my family are able to arrive and assist me. The city is vast, and a few days ago, I was forced to seek shelter away from my roost as daylight arrived.”

  He paused and looked up at the sun. I totally didn’t get the significance of any of this. Were gargoyles nocturnal? If so, how could this dude strut around the top of a building in broad daylight? Maybe their wings didn’t function in the sunlight, or something.

  “At my temporary roost, I sensed the presence of two demons and an elf.”

  The demon part was snooze-worthy, but the mention of an elf got my attention. Even though it seemed elves were appearing with increased regularity, Swiftethian had changed planes in Dallas.

  “Where was this temporary roost?”

  The gargoyle pouted at me, as if I’d stolen his punch line. “It’s where the giant metal birds roost. They swallow humans then vomit them out as they land.”

  Yuck. I got the reference, though. Airport. “DFW or Love?”

  He tilted his head. Clearly he wasn’t familiar with commercial air travel.

  “Where was this roost in comparison to where we are right now?”

  “Eighty-six wing beats to the northeast.”

  Well, that was as helpful as a pile of shit. I’d get the physical address of this building from Gregory later and check it on a map. Or I’d use my cell phone if that angel of mine wasn’t in some crazy hurry to get the fuck out of here.

  “As I was saying.” The gray creature narrowed his eyes in warning. Yeah, no more interruptions or I’d never get the story out of him. I got the message. “I never venture into an enclosed space, but there are many glass walls that line the human portion of this roost.” His stony face softened, his eyes focusing on the horizon. “It has been so long since I have seen any of my cousins that I crept close to the glass, hoping to lay eyes upon their form once again.”

  Did he mean the elves or the demons? I made a mental note to ask Gregory later. This short, squat, pewter-colored guy didn’t bear any resemblance to the elves in Hel, but he didn’t exactly look like any of the more familiar demon forms either.

  “The elf spoke with the two demons—one in female form and the other in male. The male demon handed over a stack of cheap, tree-pulp parchment and a sack. The elf checked these items then gave the male demon a gem.”

  “A gem?” My voice was shrill with excitement, and both Gregory and the gargoyle winced. “What kind of gem?”

  “I was a good distance away.” The little guy shot me a sarcastic glance. “Sort of purple, I think.”

  My hand crept into the pocket of my pants to touch the three gems I’d carried with me since my most recent return from Hel. “Did it look like this one?” I showed Dourado the alexandrite with the doppelganger spell. He leaned over my hand, warm, dry air blowing from his huge nostrils.

  “It looked like that one, yes.”

  Yes! Or, perhaps no. Swifty had paid his way with magical gems before. I had no way of knowing whether the gem that exchanged hands here had been another of the glittery rocks I had rolling around my pocket or Gareth’s stolen gem. I pondered the significance of each for a moment. Hunt for a demon here in Dallas, one who was probably long gone, or continue, find the elf probably somewhere on the east coast and beat the shit out of him until he told me where the gem was.

  Number two. There was a higher probability of success, and smashing in the face of the elf who had caused me to run around on this insane chase the last few days would be immensely gratifying. But just in case, the more I knew about this demon, the better.

  “Can you describe the male demon’s human form?”

  Dourado wrinkled his broad, pebbled nose. “He was a mid-level war demon. With skin covering his body, and hair on top of his head.”

  Well, the war demon part was helpful. I thanked Dourado as profusely as a demon could then left him in the comfortable shade of the air-conditioning unit while Gregory and I made our way out of the building.

  “If the elf made the sale here, why didn’t he just go back to Seattle and return to Hel?” I mused, half to myself, half to the angel. “Why would he continue a crazy journey to Boston and down the east coast, with all the dangers of not knowing his way around or the language? Why?”

  The angel’s dark eyes met mine. “
A second purpose to his trip? Or a return trip through the Seattle gate was either not feasible or not desirable.”

  I couldn’t think of any dangers that would hinder Swifty’s use of the Seattle gate beyond another speeding bus, but Gregory was right—sometimes gates weren’t chosen because of where they were on this side, but where they appeared in Hel. Seattle was near Eresh, while the gate at Columbia Mall came out near Dis.

  This job of Gareth’s grew increasingly murky with each step. Was there a reason the elf wanted to avoid Eresh, or a reason he needed to be practically on the doorstep of the southern elven kingdoms immediately upon his return?

  But the elf’s motivations, what he’d gained by selling the gem, none of that mattered. I just needed to use him to locate the gem then spend the next decade dealing with brownies, unicorns and drop bears.

  Chapter 18

  No, the mall.” Columbia Mall to be exact. I heard the slam of a door in the background and the engine rev on a car. Nyalla was overly excited at this first ‘mission’ of hers, and that made me uneasy, even though I was sending her on the most boring stake-out assignment ever.

  “I’m on my way.” I heard the squeal of tires over Nyalla’s voice.

  “Whoa! Slow down, Magnum PI. The gate guardian is going to meet you by the pots and pans in housewares in Macy’s. She’ll show you where the gate is. You just need to watch for an elf, approach him, and distract him while the angel secures him for us. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She hung up. I was relieved her eyes were back on the road. I also was aware of the smug smile on my face.

  “Sure that’s a good idea?” Gregory drawled. “Isn’t she kind of young for this sort of thing? Or maybe you’re thinking some revenge against an elf would be good for her soul?”

  “No. I think she’s going to be insanely bored on this stake out, and she’ll give up after four or five hours and go become a postal clerk or a waitress or something safe like that.”

  Gregory smiled. “Aren’t you worried she’ll get a paper cut on some overnight mail, or drop a plate on her foot?”

  “No. Not at all.” I was, but she’d survive those injuries. She wouldn’t survive being blasted by a demon or chased down by a rogue werewolf. When I’d heard her ghoul tale, I’d nearly had a stroke. A ghoul. I almost wanted to find a necromancer and summon the fucker back so I could teach him a lesson about messing with those I’d claimed as mine.

  We stood before the gate the gargoyle had come through. Luckily it was on top of an old parking lot, roped off for pedestrian and vehicular safety.

  “Where do you think it leads?” I peered through the opening. It was raining on the other side, dark skies either from storm clouds or pending nightfall. I could see the edge of a streetlight casting its beam across a tall, shadowed building.

  “Probably Byral.” Gregory looked a few inches above the gate, reminding me that he couldn’t see it. “Although gargoyles migrate to any world with created structures tall enough for them to roost. Their territories extend vertically.”

  Oh they’d love it here, especially with the explosion of skyscrapers in the last hundred years. I’d seen plenty of statuary on buildings to indicate they once called this world home. How many remained from that time, and how did it make them feel to be a race on the edge of extinction in this world?

  “I’m not sure if I want to do this,” I confessed to the angel. “That dude is expecting his family and friends to join him. We close this gate and we’re trapping him here all alone for the rest of his life.”

  Gregory lifted an eyebrow. “We’re in for a fight if we try to force him back. Gargoyles don’t budge once they’ve claimed territory. Even with the prospect of a life alone, he won’t want to leave his roost.”

  I squinted through the narrow slit of rain, trying to make out the shape of the building on the other side. “How bad would it be to leave this one open? Can you tell if there is a bunch of nasty shit that might come through, or just a few-hundred ugly flying guys who perch on buildings during the day and fly around at night?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile, and he rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Now, Cockroach, you know that we angels are dedicated to guarding the evolution of humans from otherworld influence. Gargoyles are not native to this realm. Knowingly allowing them passage would be a gross dereliction of our responsibility.”

  Yeah, yeah. That prime directive shit didn’t work so good for the Star Trek folks, and it certainly wasn’t working well for the angels either. A sterile petri dish was more a foreign environment than these gateways, which appeared to be natural occurrences.

  “What, so you’re Gabriel all of a sudden? Cut the party-line crap, and let me know what the real risks are.”

  “A disaster of biblical proportions.”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he’d been watching my Ghostbusters DVD without me. “Such as?”

  He sighed. “Some benign problems such as excrement that dissolves commercial plastics and a hearty dislike for small automobiles. Bigger issues such as territorial fights where humans become collateral damage. Gargoyles who claim a roost become selective about which humans can come and go in what they perceive as their territory.”

  I could see his point. Burning poo and attacking compact cars sounded downright hysterical, but corporations who had shelled out millions to erect these structures might be more than pissed when their tenants were denied access, or killed by flying stone thingies.

  “Plus, I’m not completely certain, but if that gate leads to Byral, then gargoyles would be the least of our worries.”

  And now I was more than curious. I practically stuck my face through the gate. I thought better of it at the last moment and stuck my hand through instead.

  “Ow, motherfucker!” I yanked my arm back. It was far below freezing on the other side, and that rain wasn’t really rain. My hand was white and lifeless, nerves screaming from my elbow upward.

  “Gargoyles are amazingly adaptable creatures. Don’t judge this particular place from the current weather conditions. It’s quite lovely in the springtime.”

  I fixed my arm, recreating a new one and wiggling my fingers. This angel’s idea of lovely was probably a far cry from mine. After all, he and his brethren found Aaru the image of paradise while I hated the place with a passion.

  “Okay. Point taken. I still feel bad about the lonely gargoyle, the only one of his kind in Dallas, or possibly on this continent, but I see the need to seal this gateway.”

  His hand left my hair to brush along the back of my neck. “Don’t worry about your Dallas gargoyle, my Cockroach. He will be quite content, even without others nearby. In fact, he will be less temperamental and more inclined to remain hidden from the humans without the backup of his kin.”

  I nodded, liking the feel of his hand on my skin. “Here.” I indicated the top of the rift. “And it extends to here.”

  One-handed, he sealed the gateway. Nothing remained, not even a scar in the air to show where it had been. It was as if the gateway had never occurred.

  “You need a break,” Gregory murmured, kissing the top of my head as he stroked my neck.

  “Damned straight I do.” Not that I could take one. I needed to get back to Maryland and check on Nyalla at the mall. The only chance I had to track down this gem was to find Swifty and figure out who he’d sold it to. “Hey, can you get the angelic equivalent of an APB on this demon from the airport? I want to check on Nyalla then I’ll come back here and try to find that demon.”

  “First, we’re going to take some time for us.”

  Sounded lovely. I thought through all the shit I needed to do and came up with about fifteen minutes I could spare. “Okay. Coffee shop? If we hurry, we might be able to get in some barbeque and a beer.”

  “No, I was thinking more like a lesson in teleportation.”

  “I think I’ll pass.” Seriously? That was his idea of “us” time? Of me taking
a break. Angels. My idea of taking a break was sprawling naked while he took a journey south of the border along my skin.

  “I’m tired of being your taxi service and the fact that it takes you twenty trips and many hours to get where you need to be. I promise I won’t tell anyone you’ve improved, and you can still use your inability-to-teleport-accurately excuse for being late to Ruling Council meetings.”

  I bit my lip. He was right. I especially hated my ineptitude when trying to return from Hel. What if Nyalla had an emergency? I needed to be able to get to her in a blink, just like Gregory could.

  “Okay. You’re on. How do I do this?”

  The angel put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to take you somewhere then tell you where I’m going. You meet me there as quickly as you can. Fifty places.”

  Fifty? “I don’t have time for this and neither do you. Why don’t we postpone this particular lesson?”

  “Fifty places, as fast as you can. You don’t have time not to do this. Inaccurate teleportation is wasting you hours each day, and may eventually get someone you love killed.”

  He was right, but the whole thing sounded like a mind-numbing, boring chore. Chasing an angel was fun when we were up in the air or running naked around my house. This? Not so much.

  “I’ll spice it up a little.” He gathered me close, his words delivered with a tempting, seductive note. “Fifty places as fast as you can, and when we’re done, you get a little reward.”

  Reward? Demons loved gifts and did all sorts of stupid things for ‘rewards’. “What do I get?” There was no hiding my excitement over the prospect.

  “Me.”

  Oh, hell yes. That I wanted. Always.

  “You get me for twenty-four hours this weekend. No interruptions, no worries. If the world goes up in a blaze, we’re not budging. And I’ll let you pick the place. Anywhere you want.”

  “Mars?” I teased. “Some galaxy far, far away?”

  I felt him smile against my cheek as he leaned down and brushed his lips along the rim of my ear. “Anywhere, my beloved Cockroach. Anywhere.”