Ten Lows A-Leaping: An Imp World Story

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Ten Lows A-Leaping: An Imp World Story Page 1

by Debra Dunbar




  Ten Lows A-Leaping

  Debra Dunbar

  Copyright © 2017 by Debra Dunbar

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Debra Dunbar

  Chapter 1

  There was a little box on the street corner. It wasn’t anything special, just one of those cardboard boxes that the liquor stores gave people who were buying a whole lot of booze. Normally Beatrix would have thought it discarded litter, something a human had tossed to the curb after loading their twelve-pack and boxed wine into the car, but on top of the box was a ratty green and gold bow.

  The first one appeared at the Copenhagen gate, where a cardboard booze-box with a very used bow had been glaringly out of place. She’d always had difficulty in keeping her curiosity in check, so she’d opened it and inside found a dozen donuts. They were soft and fresh with cream filling and a generous spread of chocolate icing on top. She’d sat and stared at them for at least half an hour, wondering if this was some test. Gate Guardians didn’t rank high in the angelic hierarchy, but she was still supposed to resist sin and sensory pleasures, and make every effort to improve her vibration pattern.

  But oh, they looked so tasty and Beatrix could never resist a sugary treat. She’d devoured all dozen of them, licking the chocolate off her fingers when she was done. Then she resumed her watch duties, sure that any minute one of her superiors was going to descend on her with winged fury and dole out a punishment for her transgression.

  No one came. And the next day, there was a similar box with eleven marzipan animals. She’d marveled at the detail, at the way the confectioner had shaped each one so perfectly—lions, tigers, bears, and even an elephant with red cinnamon hearts for eyes. They were too beautiful to eat. Well, almost too beautiful to eat. Mmmmm. Marzipan.

  Then there had been ten Tootsie Pops, nine spun-sugar roses, and eight perfect strawberries dipped in white chocolate. And no punishment, no reprimands followed. She’d enjoyed each day’s gift, and was consumed with curiosity, wondering who was bringing her such things.

  But today she’d been reassigned to Seattle, and assumed the gifts would stop. The appearance of the box with the bow nearly made her squeal with joy. The sweet presents hadn’t been for whoever was at the Copenhagen gate, clearly they were for her. And clearly whoever was leaving her such things had managed to track her down to her new, reassigned location.

  There would be seven delicious somethings in this box. What would happen when the countdown ended? Hopefully the gift-giving would begin all over again, because this was the best part of her day. It dulled the fear, the panic she felt returning to work after what had happened at the Columbia Mall gate.

  In all the decades she’d spent guarding the Columbia Mall gateway to Hel, never had such a powerful demon attempted to come through. She’d called for backup, fought him with everything she had. Then she’d watched him destroy two high-level angels like they were cheap toys, rending their wings and ripping their spirit-selves to nothing. She’d watched, horribly injured, terrified and knowing she was next. Then he’d impaled her on two metal roofing struts, giving her a message to relay and leaving her pinned in agony until she was found.

  She could still see the sadistic gleam in the demon’s eyes, hear the screams of the angels. There were scars that would never heal—physical as well as emotional. Every time the gateway glowed, she tensed, expecting to see him again, expecting to relive it all as she did each day in her mind. The only time she ever seemed to forget, to regain her equilibrium and sense of wonder, was when she opened and enjoyed these little gifts.

  “An entire legion of demons could come through that gate and you’d never notice.”

  Beatrix jumped at the voice, spinning around and hoping the angel hadn’t seen the box with the bow. Please, please don’t let him notice. Please.

  “I’m paying attention.” Her voice came out breathless with that edge of panic that was her constant companion of late.

  The angel scowled, his gold curls shining in the sun as he shook his head. “What about the demon that came through two hours ago? Did you even see him cross? You didn’t challenge him. You’re incompetent, Beatrix. You’ve lost your edge. I plan on advising the Ancient Revered One that he should remove you from your position and send you back to Aaru.”

  A week ago being sent back to Aaru was all she wanted, but now, with these gifts…maybe she could do this. Maybe in time she’d find the strength to face these fears, to find enjoyment in serving the Grigori once more. No, she wanted to stay. And she wasn’t about to let Ezras recommend otherwise.

  “I did see that demon cross. I recognized him as a member of the Iblis’s household. They’re allowed to cross. They have immunity.”

  “I know that, but you still should have challenged him. Don’t make it so easy for these disgusting creatures to cross and maybe they’ll stay in Hel where they belong.”

  Was he trying to get her fired? Or get her killed? Confronting Lows and imps wasn’t a big deal. She should be able to harass them without having a panic attack. “Okay, Ezras. I’ll challenge everyone, even the members of the Iblis’s household.”

  Ezras didn’t seem pleased. In fact, he never seemed pleased. The angel had what that human girl, Nyalla, had called “resting bitch face.” He’d always sported that expression. Ezras might be a gate guardian as she was, but he had more power than most. Actually he had enough power that he’d almost been pushed up into the next higher portion of the angelic ranks, a fact that he liked to continually remind the other guardians about.

  She was pretty sure he didn’t really want that promotion, though. Being the highest ranking gate guardian was probably a lot better in his eyes than being the lowest ranking of the higher angelic host. Although the status might be tempting enough that if an offer of elevation came down the ranks he’d take it.

  “Good. And pay attention. What were you looking at anyway?”

  Beatrix’s heart sped up and she dipped her head so the other guardian couldn’t see her face. “Just…nothing.”

  “What’s this box?” Ezras pushed past her. “Humans are such filthy creatures. They ruin this world with their litter, and what is ‘Twisted Tea’? Is that what is in here?”

  Just go away. Please just go away.

  Ezras stomped on the box, crushing the tattered bow and crumpling the sturdy cardboard with the force and weight of his foot. Creamy goo squeezed out the sides.

  Her eyes burned, vision swimming. Beyond a quick, swallowed gasp, Beatrix stood silent, clenching her jaw to keep from crying out, digging fingernails into her palms to keep from hitting Ezras.

  “Ewww. It’s all over my shoes. Disgusting vermin.” The angel glared at her. “Next time I check on you, I want your eyes on that gate.”

  Before she could reply, Ezras was gone. Beatrix took a few deep breaths, blinking to clear her eyes, then walked over to the box. With a shaking hand, she opened it, then burst into tears.

  She didn’t used to cry like this. She used to be smart, tough, shrewd, even, some might say, snarky. She’d performed exemplary services in guarding one of the major gateways to Hel for nearly a century. Crying…

  The las
t time she’d cried had been when the demon had left her pinned to the floor of a ruined mall, the corpses of angels close enough to sense. That had been bad enough, but to cry over seven smashed creampuffs…

  Beatrix sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Then she picked up the box and carried it over to a dumpster in a nearby parking lot, pulling off the ratty bow before she threw the whole thing away.

  It had been a pretty bow once, dark green velvet with thread sewn into a gold chain along the edges. The bow had obviously seen several holidays, decorated quite a few gifts. Now it was soft, frayed, some of the gold missing from the edges. And now it was crumpled, dirty, and stained with cream.

  Beatrix sighed and crammed the bow into her pocket, reluctant to throw it away. If she couldn’t enjoy the cream puffs, at least she could keep some souvenir of this day’s gift.

  The sun set and the moon made its way across the sky without any further attempted crossings. Twice the gate glowed and Beatrix tensed, holding her breath as she waited for a demon to appear.

  None did, and after a few seconds, the gate returned to its usual state. It was a boring job. She’d made it interesting over the last century by watching the humans and finding interesting things of note in her surroundings. When the mall had sprung up around the gateway she’d been watching, the job had become downright fun. Children had ridden the carousel, teenagers had met friends, flirted with each other, and ate in the food court. Best of all, she’d gotten to explore the stores, adding a huge variety of clothing, purses, and accessories to her collection.

  And the food… Her favorite had been the sweet and sour pork with that divinely sticky-sweet red goo of a sauce. She could happily slurp down three quarts of that stuff, although such overindulgence always resulted in a lengthy nap. But that gateway was now in the middle of a pile of rubble, the mall destroyed by the demon who’d so easily killed two enforcer angels.

  The sun peeked above the horizon, sending golden-pink pathways of light between the buildings in downtown Seattle, illuminating the way to the pier and the harbor. This wasn’t a bad gateway to guard. Seattle was a pretty city, with lots of interesting things to watch. Too bad it wouldn’t be her permanent assignment. She was just here covering for the regular guardian who was assisting one of the enforcers in Chicago. Although she didn’t have much left of her hundred-year assignment. If this temporary post stretched into three years, she’d be done and heading back to Aaru.

  The thought of returning to Aaru was depressing. She loved her home, but she’d miss all the interesting things here, all the humans. She’d miss the excitement of wondering what was in a cardboard box each day.

  The gateway glowed gold. Relax. Relax. It’s nothing. A foot came through. Then a leg. Beatrix stared, her pulse galloping, her body frozen into place. This was no good. She should just let them send her back to Aaru in disgrace. Ezras was right, she was incompetent.

  The rest of the demon came through the gateway and Beatrix blew out a lungful of air. It was just a Low, and this Low she recognized. He was a member of the Iblis’s household, and she’d seen him there, at Sam’s residence when the Iblis had sheltered her after what had happened at the Columbia Mall gateway.

  She had no idea what his name was, but she recognized him. Although something had happened to him since she’d last seen him. All of his fingers were gone on the one hand, and when she looked beyond his physical form to his spirit-self, she found it scarred beyond belief. Lows were at the very bottom of demon hierarchy, and demons weren’t known for their kind and gentle ways. Someone had tortured this Low, hurt him badly. What had happened? And how had he managed to survive, let alone escape?

  Normally she would have just ignored the Low and let him go on about his business, but Ezras said she was supposed to confront all who crossed the gate, regardless of household affiliation, so Beatrix walked over and stood in front of the Low.

  He blinked up at her in surprise, his face turning bright red. “Hi.”

  Hi? How was she supposed to respond to that?

  “Umm, you’re not allowed to cross the gateways under the restrictions of the treaty signed at the end of the angel wars. So turn around and go home, or I’ll kill you.”

  It didn’t sound very threatening. Or confident. The Low tilted his head, his odd yellowish eyes staring up at her. “I’m part of the Iblis’s household. You met me at her house last year, although I don’t expect you’d remember me.”

  He remembered meeting her? She was just a gate guardian, and at the time had been an emotional wreck, downing sweet and sour sauce like it was her only escape. She wasn’t particularly memorable under the best of circumstances, but right after the attack she’d felt invisible.

  Invisible was safe. Invisible wouldn’t get her wings pinned to the floor and angels killed.

  “Yes, but I need to verify your credentials. Just to make sure, you know.” Could demons sense lies? Could Lows sense lies? This was embarrassing enough without claiming to not know him and have him sense the falsehood.

  A broad grin creased his face. “My favorite color is blue. And I’ve got no idea what the airspeed velocity of an unladen sparrow is.”

  Was this code for something? If so, then no one had told her. Beatrix felt her face grow just as red as the Low’s. “No, I just need to see your household mark.”

  “Oh. It’s a good movie. Nyalla showed it to me. You should watch it.”

  Before she could figure out what he was talking about, the Low turned around, dropped his pants and bent over. Sure enough, right there on his left buttock, was a household mark. Say what you will about the Iblis, but she did have a twisted sense of humor.

  “What’s your name?” Was this enough harassment? Should she let him go, or continue to ply him with questions?

  “Snip. Nyalla said that your name is Beatrix. That’s a pretty name.”

  Okay. Conversation over. “Thank you. You can go,” she squeaked. “Have a good day.”

  Have a good day. Sheesh. Some gate guardian she’d become.

  His grin nearly swallowed his face. “And you have a good day too, Beatrix.”

  She watched him go, then sat and turned her attention back to the gateway. What an odd demon. Battered, scarred, but so cheerful and light-hearted. If only she could put her own trauma behind her as that Low obviously had, then perhaps she’d be whole once again.

  After an hour, Beatrix stood and stretched, letting her attention wander from the gateway and down the narrow street toward the harbor. Walking past the little park with its stone benches and fountain, she came to a set of stairs that seemed to descend forever.

  And there, on the second step downward was a cardboard box with a lopsided red bow.

  She ran toward it, scooping it up in her hands and dashing back to the gateway. Once she was sure no one was watching, she carefully opened the box and peered inside. And laughed.

  Six big sugar cookies, shaped like angels with yellow icing curls, blue robes, and little black x’s where their eyes should be. Oh, he’d been watching. Whoever had been leaving the gifts had seen Ezras destroy the cream puffs, had heard his harsh words to her, and had seen her obvious distress. With a grin Beatrix picked up each cookie and snapped off the wings, biting into them with glee. Next she crunched off the heads, then nibbling her way up their legs until nothing remained in the box but scattered crumbs.

  That had been the most enjoyable, satisfying gift to date. She stuffed the bow into her pocket and settled in to watch the gate, warmed at the thought that someone out there saw her, someone out there cared.

  Chapter 2

  “You don’t have the intelligence that the Creator gave an ant,” Ezras scolded. “And you’re a coward.”

  She was a coward, but it wasn’t this angel’s place to call her that. “I did my job, watched the gate, interrogated a Low that came through who was a part of the Iblis’s household.”

  “You let a warmonger through.”

  Beatrix winced. “I was chasing down
a greed demon. And I caught her and sent her back through the gateway.”

  “You should have killed her. And while you were after her, a warmonger snuck through.”

  Three years ago they were supposed to kill every demon who’d passed through the gateway—if they could catch them, that is. But this was a different world. An archangel, the head of the Grigori, had bonded to an imp, made her his life-mate. Other angels were rumored to have found love with demons. Rumors were the Ruling Council was considering a path to reinstatement for demons and Angels of Chaos. If these beings were soon to be at their sides in Aaru, it seemed wrong to kill them for their trespass. The treaty still needed to be enforced, but at this time Beatrix felt it sufficient to send trespassing demons back home.

  As for the warmonger, well she couldn’t be two places at once. And how was she to know that another demon was waiting to cross through? If she had let the greed demon go, Ezras would have yelled at her for that.

  “I’m…I’m sorry.” Beatrix didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t sorry. At this point it seemed she could do nothing right. She was on a fast track back to Aaru, disgraced, humiliated. Her reputation would be in shreds for not having finished her century-long assignment, for having to leave her post, having a breakdown. She was a coward. But there was nothing she could do to help that. And there was nothing she could do to prove to this angel that she was fit to return to duty, that she could be trusted once again to do her job.

  Ezras sighed. It was a fake sigh, the kind filled with insincerity and false reluctance.

  “This is your last day here. Tomorrow you’ll be moved to another gateway.”

  Beatrix would be sad to leave Seattle behind. She only hoped her gift giver followed her to her new assignment.

 

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