by Debra Dunbar
“No, they come from Hel,” Hallwyn chimed in. “That’s where the demons live, and up until a few months ago, that’s where we elves used to live.”
Rosa crammed the rest of the cookie in her mouth. “Great. Did you bring them over with you? Why are they here now? And why DiMarche?”
I went to reply, but Hallwyn beat me to it. “Demons have always come across the gates, but these two were most likely summoned or hired under contract.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “A contract? Who would put out a hit on DiMarche? Boone Valley? Santor? One of those snobby French wineries? And why are they using demons instead of a hostile stock takeover like every other business in the world?”
I frowned at Hallwyn, warning her to keep quiet. I was reluctant to air all the elven dirty laundry, and if Rosa and the others thought Hallwyn had gotten her job through a sort of plague-demon sabotage, they’d never come to see her as a friend.
“I don’t know. It might be for some other reason. I have my suspicions, but no proof.”
“You told Jorge yet?” Rosa asked.
I shook my head “No, because I thought we were taking care of it. I mean, Hallwyn was taking care of it. But the plague demons are coming back here and re-infecting everything we—she heals.” Again I felt torn. Should I give up the vineyard as a lost cause? Let Apixt and Txipa take it and rot every vine to the ground? Hallwyn was fighting a losing battle, but maybe if I managed to somehow get enough energy, and she got her elven friends to help…
No. I couldn’t win this one. I’d help the elves with this shit-head Jobber, and maybe Sam would come through for me and get the plague demons to back off the vineyard, but that was it. That was the best I could do.
“They keep coming back?” Rosa narrowed her eyes at Hallwyn. “Guess you’ve got your work cut out for you. No vineyard, no job. And happy as I’d be to see you tossed back on that island, I really don’t want to be out of a job myself, so hustle your butt up and put those glowy-hands of yours on some vines. Get to work, elf-scum. Stop your crying and get to work.”
Rosa spun around and headed to her go-cart.
“You’re not a nice human, and I’m not bringing you any more cookies,” Hallwyn yelled. Then she kicked a clod of dirt. I had to smother a laugh, because at that moment she seemed very non-elf-like.
“She’s right, you know. I mean, not about you being sent back to the island, but the rest. You’ll need to work your ass off clearing away as much disease as possible. Our only hope is to stay a bit ahead of the pestilence demons until they get bored and go away.” Or until Sam managed to convince them to go away.
“Wonderful. I work myself to exhaustion, only to come back the next day and find it all undone.”
She was right, but we had no other choice.
I left Hallwyn in the field and ran as fast as I could to the winery, earning a grumpy look from Nancy for being late. The day turned worse when I realized my assignment was to follow her around and check the various fermentation tanks, then spend the afternoon cleaning and sanitizing equipment. By the time my day was over, my hands were raw from the abrasive cleaners, and my clothes were wet. I waved off Matthieu’s attempts to drag me down in the cellars for a quickie, and headed out.
When I reached the equipment sheds, I stopped and bit my lip, trying to make a decision. Should I head out into the field and help Hallwyn heal some plants? I’d been coming home every night drained of energy, and the quick scores I was picking up here and there weren’t enough to replace what I was expending. I’d been relying too much on Irix and what Harkel had given me, but that wasn’t fair. I needed a night off to recharge, and to spend some time trying to make things right with Irix. I shot a reluctant glance over to the fields, sent Hallwyn a quick text, then headed for my trailer.
There was no home-cooked meal when I got home. There wasn’t even a quiche and salad. Irix was there at least, but he greeted me with a frosty “hello”, never lifting his eyes from the book he was reading.
I dug in the fridge for some leftovers, then pulled out the bottle of rum, hoping a drink would help the situation.
“I didn’t bring a stray puppy home tonight,” I told him, handing him a rum and ginger.
“Huh.” Irix took a sip, the ice clinking in the glass.
I sat beside him and waited, but there was no further comment. “She thinks I’m a human with weird magic skills. It’s okay. I don’t even work with her anymore. They have me in the winery.”
“Good.”
This was going to be a very long, tension-filled night. I eyed my glass, wondering if I should have just drunk the rum straight. “The plant with the mildew that Hallwyn healed last night had it again this morning. It was even worse. The plague demons must be coming back in the middle of the night and re-infecting everything she heals.”
“Which is another good reason for you to stay away from that elf. Let her deal with the vines and the plague demons. It’s her job, not yours.”
He still sounded pissed, but at least he was communicating in more than grunts and one-word sentences.
I scooted closer to him. “There’s some Jobber guy, I don’t know if he’s an elf or a human, who’s making the elves sign these horrible contracts and pay to get them a job and off Elf Island. He’s inflating the costs and loaning them money for everything at a crippling rate. It’s usury. It’s predatory lending.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Hallwyn says they have no say over what job they get, and that she’s completely unqualified for this one.”
“Then she should get a new job. Or go back to Elf Island and tell the angels what this guy is doing.”
“She’ll be stuck there forever because the angels will never allow her to get a job in public policy administration. They’re only approving jobs in agriculture, the medical fields, and the arts.”
“Then maybe she can take the Elf Island equivalent of continuing education classes.”
“And she’ll still owe this Jobber guy. The interest will pile up, and on the island she won’t have any way to earn money to pay him back. The alternative is some unnamed work for the Jobber. What do you think it is? Selling her organs? Prostitution? Some kind of elven-magic sweatshop?”
“Guess she shouldn’t have signed that contract.” Irix put his drink and book down on the table and turned to look at me. “It’s not like the angels are whipping them. Elves are a bunch of whiny pansy-asses. They need to make the best of a less-than-ideal situation, learn what the angels are trying to teach them, be patient, and stop trying to buy and bribe their way off the island. It’s her own fault. If they’re stupid enough to sign onto horrible debt and questionable default clauses with this Jobber, then they need to deal with the consequences. Don’t fall for her helpless big-eyed elf routine, Amber. She had a choice. She could have stayed on the island. Instead she made a bad deal. Not your problem. Not my problem. Not anyone’s problem but Hallwyn’s.”
“But they don’t understand the human world. The angels don’t understand the human world. I know elves are shit-heads and she shouldn’t have signed that contract, but it seems like one of those situations where they’re vulnerable to scams like this.”
Irix shrugged. “They have kidnapped and enslaved humans for thousands of years. They weren’t the easiest neighbors in Hel, although I’ll admit they were occasionally entertaining. They chose to come here, with bad intentions. They made this mess, and now they have to live with it.”
I stared down at my drink, knowing he was right. I’d been a hero in New Orleans, in Maui, and in Hel. I wanted to be the hero here as well. If I couldn’t save the vineyard, maybe I could save the elves.
But did they really need saving? They were in the human world now. Maybe I needed to just refer Hallwyn to a good bankruptcy attorney or contract lawyer and wash my hands of the whole thing.
My phone beeped and I frowned looking down at the text.
“No.” Irix demanded, reading over my shoul
der. “No. Not happening. Tell her that you’re busy.”
Every cell of my being chafed at the tone in his voice. He was right, but still…
He took the phone from my hands. “You’re not going. She’s a grown elf. She can handle this herself. It’s her job, and she’s just putting in overtime. She doesn’t need you.”
Probably not, but I kept thinking of the downy mildew that had returned overnight. “She’s not very good at this. I could just show her how to heal the black measles case, then leave her to take care of it.”
“Show her, then heal a few vines, then wind up out there all night with her, risking that Txipa or Apixt sees you and decides to take your head off for interfering.”
A chill ran through me at the thought of Hallwyn in the field, distracted and at the mercy of the plague demons. But she was an elf. She had skills of her own, and she knew to be careful.
“I promise. I’ll just show her how to eradicate the black measles, then I’ll come right back.”
“You’re not going out there.”
“You can come with me. I promise, a half an hour max.”
“No.”
I heard the finality in Irix’s voice and snatched my phone back, typing in a note that I wasn’t able to help tonight. Then I quickly added a second text, reminding Hallwyn about the plague demons and that she should just go home for the night, that I’d show her how to fix the black measles in the morning. “There. Satisfied?” I showed Irix the screen. He still didn’t look happy.
“Yes. Now go out and hunt. You’re hungry.”
I winced. There was no loving offer to share, no wicked little smile and proposal that we hunt together. Was an elf going to tear us apart? Although it was wrong to blame Hallwyn for this. It was me that was going to tear us apart. I did things Irix felt were risky and foolish. He was a demon. He didn’t get my need to help others, to save the day, to be a hero. In his world, there were very few things worth risking your life over. Ethics, ideals, commercial vineyards, and random elves weren’t on that list.
But they were on my list. I’d risked my life to help down in New Orleans. I’d risked my life to help in Maui. I’d risked my life to go to Hel and help the humans. I’d risked my life to gain him immunity from the angels. Would I risk my life to help Hallwyn and a winery that I didn’t even own stock in? It was me that would break us apart, but could I change who I was?
I couldn’t change, but at least I could pick my battles. He was right. Hallwyn was a grown elf. I was doing what I could to find this Jobber and put a stop to his scheme. I was doing what I could to shift Apixt and her sister’s focus away from DiMarche. I didn’t need to drain myself dry out in the fields in the middle of the night healing vines next to an elf.
I put my hand on Irix’s chest and looked up at him. “Please come with me?”
He made a “harrumph” noise. “I spent all day hunting. I’m full. And you don’t need me to attract a sexual partner.”
“No, but I want you there. Maybe you can watch, or just have a drink while I bang some guy out back behind the bar. We fought last night and never made up. We’re still fighting. I didn’t sleep all night. I can’t hunt with you mad at me. Well, I can but I don’t want to, and if I walk out of here now, you’ll be asleep by the time I get home and I’ll spend another restless night knowing you’re still angry with me.”
“I am still angry with you, Amber.”
He was, but the golden brown in his eyes had softened with my words.
“Please?” I rubbed my hand down his chest and looped my fingers in the waistband of his pants. “I’ll let you pick my prey. Then afterward I’ll fulfill your every fantasy.”
“Blow job?” he asked. “Then anal?”
Men. “Sure, I’ll strap a dildo on if you want.”
He chuckled. I felt a thrill run through me to have gotten that out of him. “No. Me in your ass. After me in your mouth.”
As long as it wasn’t the reverse order, because that would be gross. “I’m all yours, baby.”
He smiled, and gold flecks came to light in his eyes. “I know. And I’m all yours, baby.”
Chapter 21
Irix had picked out a particularly challenging mark for me, but I’d managed to score. We were on our way home, the full moon casting a path of light along the road, the neat rows of vines on either side lit up to a shadowy gray. We turned down the drive to the trailers, and I frowned, seeing something at the edge of a row that was out of place this early in the morning.
“Stop. There’s a golf-cart down there.”
His arms tensed, hands tight on the wheel as a muscle jerked in his jaw, but Irix slowed the car.
“Some kids joyriding. Or maybe that elf pulled an all-nighter. It’s not your business, Amber.”
Something told me it was. “Let’s walk down. If Hallwyn’s working straight through the night, we’ll leave. If it’s an abandoned golf cart, I’ll let Jorge know in the morning where it is so he can send someone out to retrieve it.”
Irix sighed and pulled the car over to the side of the drive. “We’re just going to check the cart. We’re not searching all over a thousand acres to check up on that elf. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I teased.
We got out of the car and I waited for Irix to come around to join me before heading down the row of vines. It had been so hot during the day that the evening air felt chilly and I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms. It wasn’t just the cool night air that had me on edge. The vineyard was creepy in the dark. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze. The moon was darting in and out of wispy clouds, flickering the dim light around us and sending shadows across the path like an army of invisible soldiers marching forward across the ground.
The golf cart didn’t look as though it had been vandalized. The keys were in the ignition, and there was a bag of dried pineapple on the seat. I guess Hallwyn was working late.
“Okay? Let’s go.”
Although where was Hallwyn? I wasn’t seeing any glow from her magic, and I hadn’t heard anyone in the rows nearby. Elves moved silently, but Irix and I hadn’t tried to be quiet as we’d approached. If she was nearby, she would have heard us and come to see who was here. Perhaps she had worked her way down the row and was farther up in the field.
Irix turned and took two steps down the row and froze. “Stay here,” he hissed.
He backed up a step then edged two rows down, his face grim. I disobeyed and crept up behind him, crying out when I saw a figure with long blond hair and pointed ears sprawled on the ground. I ran toward her, my hands shaking as I turned the body over. Her skin was cold and damp, her hair tangled over her face, dirt staining the white shirt and khaki pants. No. No.
I should have been here. I could have helped her fight back. Jumping up, I turned and smashed into Irix’s chest. His arms came around my shoulders and I felt everything inside me break as I began to cry.
“It’s your fault. Yours,” I shouted at him. “I wanted to go and help her. I should have been here to help her. You forced me to choose between you and something I knew was right. I picked you and she died. She died because you’re a selfish controlling asshole. She died because of you.”
Irix flinched at each of my words, but never let me go, his arms tight around me, his cheek against the top of my head. Even when I managed to pull my hands free and punch him in the chest he held me.
“You would have died here with her. She made the choice to stay out here, and it was a foolish choice. If you had been here with her, your body would be next to hers on the ground. I need you to be safe, Amber. I can’t let you die because of some stupid, reckless urge to save everyone you meet.”
This time I punched him hard. “The two of us might have been able to fight back, or to get away. And even if we both died, at least we would have died fighting together. She wouldn’t have died all alone out in a field. She wouldn’t have died in a strange world, surrounded by strange customs and humans, feeling trapped and desperate. She was
here because she was afraid of losing her job. She wasn’t out doing something stupid, she was trying to do her job.”
I yanked away from Irix, resisting the urge to slug him across the face.
“I don’t care,” he told me, his eyes nearly black in the dim light. “That was her choice. I’m not having you die because some elf stupidly signed a contract and took a job she wasn’t qualified for. I’m not having you die because an idiot elf got herself in trouble.”
“It’s not your right to decide when and how I die. It’s not your right to tell me what my priorities are or who is worth risking my life for. I love you, but I’m not some fragile doll for you to lock in an unbreakable case and put on a shelf. I’m me. I’m a half-elf, half-succubus, and my life is mine to live, not yours.”
“You’re a what?”
My heart nearly left my chest at the whispered voice, and I could tell by Irix’s expression that he was equally startled. I spun around, my mouth dropping open. Hallwyn stood behind me, her hair a snarled mess that hung down past her hips. Her clothing was torn and scorched. Her face marred with a jagged red cut that went from her forehead diagonally to her chin. As I watched another elf materialized from behind the row of vines. She had the same white button-down and khaki pants as Hallwyn and the body at my feet, and hers were in the same disrepair. Whoever this Jobber was that had provided them with clothing, he must have gotten a bulk deal from Old Navy.
“You’re alive!” I stupidly announced. Then I looked down at the body.
“We were able to get away.” Hallwyn choked back a sob. “Callia wasn’t. There were two of them. They came at us out of nowhere and attacked us while we were trying to heal the vines. They were too strong, and had weapons.”
Callia. I bent down and smoothed the tangled blond hair away from the elf’s face, realizing that although all three women bore a striking resemblance, this dead elf wasn’t Hallwyn.
“They had weapons?” Irix asked. “Human weapons, like guns and knives?” He knelt down beside me, looking over the body.