by Jenny McKane
Her dream demon had finally returned.
Chapter Eight
Sunny sank to her knees at the sound of his voice and did everything she could to keep from crying.
“You’re back? And unharmed?”
Plaxo, her little dream demon nodded his head.
“Your cohort,” she questioned. “They’re safe? You hid them well?”
Another nod of his head.
“I am glad to see you, Plaxo,” Sunny said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve missed you lately.”
His eyes warmed and Sunny smiled even brighter.
“It is good to be with you again, Lady Hunter,” he said. “It has been a long few months. Lots to tell you.”
Plaxo looked weary, despite having concrete skin and glass-looking eyes, he looked tired.
“Are you well, Plaxo?”
He drew in a deep breath, expanding his body cavity before sighing.
“I am well, Lady Hunter,” he said, his voice small. Something was bothering him and he didn’t want to say.
“But?”
Not meeting her eyes, Plaxo kicked at the floor, obviously desperate for something to distract this conversation.
Narrowing her eyes, she dropped to one knee and got eye level with the dream demon.
“Plaxo,” she said, her voice holding a warning note in it. He needed to spill whatever he was holding back.
With eyes as round as saucers, he met her gaze and she swore she saw his little stone lip quiver.
“He would be glad to know you are well,” his little voice cracked. “That should be enough.”
Something in her gut churned. Her instincts knew what he was going to say was bad.
“Gideon?”
Plaxo gave a pitiful nod.
“You’ve seen him?”
Another sad nod of his head.
Sitting back on her rear, Sunny found herself at war at whether she wanted, and was ready for, whatever it was that Plaxo was going to tell her. Somewhere deep inside, she knew that any circumstances that Gideon found himself in would probably be bad, but from the shattered look on Plaxo’s face, it was worse than that.
“Is he alive?”
The briefest of seconds that it took Plaxo to respond were the longest, most painful she’d ever experienced. The delay excruciating.
“He is alive, Lady Hunter.”
Relief rushed through her like a wave. He was alive. She could work with that.
Recovering his nerve, Plaxo continued.
“Think about where they are keeping Half-Breed,” he said in a small voice. “Think about his realm.”
Azrael. Realm of shadows. Darkness. Insanity.
Her eyes shot to Plaxo’s, the question evident.
“Half-Breed is having a hard time,” Plaxo said quietly, understating the obvious.
“How hard of a time, Plaxo?” Her words were clipped and fraught with tension.
Gabriel chose that moment to return from wherever he’d disappeared to.
“Sunny,” he began but draw up short when he saw Plaxo. He nodded a greeting, the two of them long ago forming some sort of working agreement. There was no awkwardness like there had been with Gideon. He also seemed to sense something was amiss immediately. “What is it?”
Plaxo seemed to have better control of his trepidation and answered the archangel’s question. “The Half-Breed is not enduring well,” Plaxo said, keeping his eyes on Gabriel and not looking at Sunny. “Plaxo is worried for his sanity.”
The air, whatever had remained in her lungs, whooshed from her and she had to stand. To move. To not let the panic overtake her.
What if she was taking too long? Gideon was wilting away somewhere and Sunny was taking too long to get to him. Tears burned in her eyes and her throat started constricting. She was failing Gideon.
“Sunshine,” Gabriel’s voice cut through her rising panic. “Stop. Whatever you’re doing to yourself, stop. It’s not your fault. Azrael’s doing this.”
It made sense, but the truth of it didn’t help.
“How much can he endure?” Sunny asked, not knowing the answer or whether Gabriel possibly could.
Gabriel didn’t lie to her either, in an effort to make her feel better. “There’s no telling, but he’s strong,” Gabriel said. Plaxo had moved closer to Sunny, obviously distressed at her panic. “And he’s still alive, so we’re going to stay the course and get him out of there as soon as we can.”
Sunny wanted to calm down, but she couldn’t.
“What are we waiting for, Gabriel? How much longer do I need to train before we get him out?”
A long sigh poured out of the archangel and he hesitated before he spoke.
“This isn’t a vacuum we’re dealing with, Sunny,” he said quietly. “We’ve got a couple more pieces that need to be in place before you’re safe enough to get Gideon out. Selah is working on it. Please, be patient.”
She didn’t want to be patient. She wanted to break down the walls of Azrael’s keep, gut the archdemon and free Gideon from his bonds. But it wasn’t one of her options at the moment, so she had no choice but the stay the course that Gabriel had set for her.
And he was right about Gideon being strong. He was. He was incredibly strong and Sunny would do well to remember that. He was smart and strong and after all he’d been through, he wouldn’t take a risk without plenty of calculation behind it.
Still, Sunny needed to know.
“Can you share the vision with me?”
Plaxo’s eyes widened and instead of answering, he looked straight at Gabriel.
Gabriel waited a moment, considering, before nodding.
Plaxo moved forward cautiously, as though he might reconsider at any moment and not share what he had seen with her. She braced.
“Please lie down, Lady Hunter,” Plaxo mumbled, clearly uncomfortable. “You will fall asleep and Plaxo does not wish for Lady Hunter to hurt herself.”
Nodding, she scooted over to the couch and sat back against it, making sure that when she fell asleep, she would not fall and injure herself.
“Ready?”
Plaxo looked miserable as he moved slowly toward her. A small paw, clenched tight, reached out and touched Sunny’s forehead. In a blink, she found herself unconscious.
*****
From the moment Sunny hit the image, she knew she was an observer. There was no confusion as to what she was doing, she was watching and had no concept of her body being present at all. She was a vapor. Nothing. It was disconcerting at first until she realized she was watching events unfold from Plaxo’s point of view and he must have remained invisible to travel to Azrael’s home.
There was a banquet going on. Rows upon rows of long tables with hundreds of chairs each--all filled with demons of all shapes and sizes. Plaxo’s point of view moved easily through the crowd as he searched for something.
None of the partygoers gave Plaxo a second look. Kitty had mentioned that dream demons could not only travel via dreams, they could slip into the void when they needed to--a useful trick when they felt threatened by human or fellow demon. Slipping into the world beyond both realms where very few could follow made a dream demon hard to catch.
Plaxo moved again, finding the head table set up on a dais. The demon in the largest chair looked eerily human and dressed in a resplendent suit, dark, silk, and perfectly tailored to his sculpted body. Azrael appeared to Sunny to be a dark-haired, handsome man in his 50s. His dark hair was short and styled back off his face. He had a close-cropped beard and tanned skin. His eyes were the single feature on him that distinguished him as a demon--instead of colored irises, Azrael’s entire eye was ink black. There were no discernible features to the eyes and it threw Sunny off. Most demons in the human realm tried to maintain some semblance of looking like humans and glamored away any features that might stand out.
As Plaxo approached the dais, Sunny’s eyes found Gideon. Three seats away from Azrael, a hollow-looking Gideon sat in a chair and st
ared ahead, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. His cheeks were hollow and the circles under his eyes were pronounced. His beautiful hair, once shiny and golden each time it was in the sun, was dirty, tangled, and limp.
He was a shell of who he was the last time she saw him and there were no marks, bruises, or other pieces of evidence pointing to a cause. Azrael was speaking to one of the demons beside him, sitting between himself and Gideon.
“He’s no fun anymore, really,” Azrael was saying--his baritone voice low and silky. Too much, really. The voice of a seducer and game player, and it was clear he was bragging to the older-looking demon with a white, wiry beard and two small horns on his head. Smoke wafted off the creature when he moved, and Sunny assumed she was watching a fire demon.
Azrael continued. “...much stronger when he first arrived, but the fight’s gone from him. What good is he to me like this? We’ll have to liven him up somehow. My son has a few ideas…”
Son. She had yet to hear of Azrael’s son--the father taking such pains to be a common name among Hunters and angels alike. Is this son the reason Selah was aiding archangels in relieving her father of his prisoner? Her eyes darted around the gathered table, looking for a face that could belong to Azrael’s son, but she got nothing, no other participant in the conversation.
Plaxo must have moved then, because she couldn’t hear any more of the conversation. She was, however, able to watch Gideon for a few moments longer. His eyes were listless and empty. His breathing shallow as he wavered on his seat, apparently not hearing or seeing anything. What had happened to him? Was it just an act he put on to buy himself time?
Before she could wonder any more, she was pulled from the vision and found herself with her head slung back on the couch in Gabriel’s living room. She blinked a few times and took a deep breath.
She met Plaxo’s sad eyes and saw a truth there she hadn’t seen before.
“There was more, wasn’t there?”
Looking away, Plaxo refused to look at her. He turned from her and walked away, looking out a window. Sunny glanced over to Gabriel, who said nothing.
“It’s for the best,” he said.
Stomach clenching, she knew she didn’t want to return to the vision, but she felt like she was dishonoring Gideon by not acknowledging what he was going through.
“Do you think he’s losing his sanity, Plaxo?”
The small concrete dream demon turned back to her and paused.
“Lady Hunter saw the same thing Plaxo did,” he said, his voice low. “What does the Lady Hunter think?”
It took a moment for her to answer.
“I think he’s playing a role,” she replied, finally. “I think he’s trying to appear unthreatening.”
Plaxo nodded and looked to Gabriel.“It is what Plaxo believes, too,” he said solemnly. “But it was not easy to show the Lady Hunter. Plaxo is sorry.”
Pulling herself together, Sunny wiped her face with the back of her hands.
“I’m glad you showed me, Plaxo,” she said, not looking at either him nor Gabriel. She was thinking about what she’d seen, trying to remember details and nuances. “I needed to see it.”
“We will get Half-Breed out, Lady Hunter,” Plaxo called after her as she walked up the stairs to her room. “Do not fret too much.”
Chapter Nine
Sunny wasn’t herself much the following day, despite having a full morning of training with Eli and a cut from the obsidian blade waiting for her at lunch. As she and Gabriel had agreed, along with Eli, there was no mention made of that aspect of her training with Hell’s Little Princess when she graced them all with her presence later that evening.
They’d just finished eating dinner when she sauntered in.
“The dream demon and I have finished preparations,” she announced to no one in particular. Gabriel was the only one who looked up and acknowledged her. Eli kept his attention on his food and Sunny suddenly found the tablecloth incredibly interesting.
It was obvious even to her that she was being catty and childish by not immediately acknowledging Selah, but Sunny didn’t care. She bristled as the spawn of Azrael settled into the chair next to Gabriel, across from Eli.
Selah wore a fitted black button-down shirt that was tailor made for her lithe figure. Her hair was inky black and stick straight, smooth and glossy and absolutely perfect--something Sunny begrudgingly noticed as she scratched at her head and jostled the messy top knot she’d been sporting. Her lips were red and her skin alabaster. The gray eyes that peered over perfectly shaped dark lashes were calculating, but Sunny hadn’t decided yet if they were cruel.
“It worked?” Gabriel asked
With a condescending nod of her head, Selah answered him. “Naturally.”
Naturally, Sunny mimicked in her mind, annoyed beyond measure that, not only was she going to travel into the demon realm on a suicide mission, she was going to have to accompany Selah while she did her best to get the pants off Gideon. Sunny’s hands were flexing again and she took a long breath to calm herself.
“Tonight, then?”
Selah gave an imperial nod and pushed herself away from the table, obviously having had enough time with the commoners. When she was gone, Sunny gave Gabriel her more pointed look and waited.
“Part of your mission depends on you not looking like it’s your first day in Azrael’s keep,” he said. “You’re going to be part of Selah’s royal entourage and you’ll need to know your way around before you go in. As it stands, you have a dream demon on your side who just spent three days learning all the twists and turns inside Azrael’s home.”
She was tracking. So far.
“And, this dream demon is good at what he does,” Gabriel said. “So tonight, you won’t dream so much as you’ll train with Plaxo and Selah.”
Her face was blank. What was he talking about?
“Sounds like some demon virtual reality shit,” Eli muttered beside her.
Gabriel considered the comparison before nodding. “Yes,” he said, agreeing. “Much like that. Virtual reality. Plaxo will recreate the entire keep in your dreams and your job is to learn from Selah the ins and outs of each floor, each servant, and all the duties. You’ll have to blend into the background while you’re there and being wide-eyed and overwhelmed just won’t cut it.”
Dinner adjourned eventually, and Gabriel vanished. He’d mentioned that there were reports of increased demon and angel activity in Northern California and he was going to check in with Raphael for an update.
“If I happen to talk to Michael, do you have any messages you want me to pass along?” He was being playful, which was rare for an archangel, but Sunny didn’t take the bait. Sending some asshole, flippant message to Michael, even via Gabriel, would put her back on his radar and that’s not what she wanted. She wanted Michael to forget she existed, but knew the reality of that happening was unlikely.
Eli remained at the table as Sunny cleared the table and cleaned up. Eli did the cooking most nights and Sunny did the cleaning. Gabriel did the owning of the chateau and the purchasing of the food, so it only seemed fair.
“Don’t trust her,” he said so quietly that Sunny had to wonder if she imagined it.
“I don’t,” she replied when she realized he was talking to her. His voice was likely low so Selah (and probably Gabriel) wouldn’t overhear them.
“I know, but I really want you to be on your guard when you two cross over, Sunny,” Eli continued. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled when Gabriel mentioned she was on board and the more I get to know her, I know she’s not doing this out of the kindness of her heart.”
Sunny couldn’t disagree. They were the same thoughts she was having.
After a span of silence passed between them, Eli spoke.
“Why are you doing this?”
There was no judgement in the question, only curiosity. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past month, but he was so good at holding his cards close to his chest that Sunny
never pried. On top of that, she never offered a whole lot of information about herself, either. He just didn’t seem interested.
“Gabriel didn’t tell you?”
With a short jerk of his head, Eli indicated that, no, Gabriel hadn’t told him exactly why she was doing this.
“Gideon sacrificed his freedom for me,” she said. “He’s got a long list of reasons to seek out his revenge against his father, but he gave all that up so that I wouldn’t fail my objective to kill Seumat. I can’t leave him there.”
Eli didn’t say anything, he just scowled.
“Isn’t he a demon?”
Sunny paused, unsure if there was judgement or dismissal in his voice. She wasn’t fond of hearing either, but she assumed he was still being curious.
“He’s part demon, yes,” she said slowly, not sure how far into this conversation she was willing to go.
Eli’s dark eyes studied her for a moment, and she began to feel uncomfortable under the weight of his stare.
“Why can’t he find his own way out?”
The question confused Sunny. He was a Hunter, wasn’t he? Surely, he’d heard about Azrael.
“Because he made an airtight bargain,” she replied. “There’s no way out of it on his end.”
This time, Eli crossed his arms over his chest. The scowl on his face deepened. Was she answering these questions incorrectly? Suddenly, Sunny was self-conscious.
“Does he mean something to you?”
The implications were clear. Eli was being incredibly judgmental.
“Yes,” she answered flatly.
He pressed even further.
“Are you in a relationship with him? Is it something like that?”
The vein in his neck was bulging. Was Eli angry?
“No,” she answered truthfully, thinking it the best course right now. Eli seemed to be struggling with serious demon discrimination. From what Gabriel had mentioned in the past, he had one hell of a story, but nobody had included Sunny in on the telling of it. And now here he stood with the gall to disapprove of her risking her life to save a man with demon heritage?