Far From Center

by Debra Dunbar

  “Stop.”

  He did stop, mainly because Nyalla’s hand was wrapped around his fist and he wouldn’t hurt her, even though he was eager to punch Terrelle right in her nose.

  “Well, it’s done now. Mea Culpa.” The demon shot him a smug smile. “Now, let’s pick up these beads and compare them to the photo. I’ve got some work to do if I’m going to attempt to pull off one convincing duplicate, let alone a dozen of them.”

  “How is this going to work?” Nyalla picked up one of the fallen beads and eyed it. “I’m assuming the actual Job’s Tear gives off some sort of magical energy that demons and angels can detect. Making it look the same won’t be enough.”

  “That’s where I come in,” Gabe said. “Well, where Snip comes in once he gets back. I can describe the energy to Terrelle, but it’s going to take Snip to verify that our fakes are close enough to pass.”

  Gabe was convinced that the only reason the Gormand would need to bring an ancient demon skilled in illusion over from Hel was so that he could prepare to give them a fake Job’s Tear that would be virtually identical to the original, except it wouldn’t work. The Gormand could then keep the original himself, or sell it to someone else. No doubt there were plenty of ancients in Hel that would pay top dollar for it. No doubt Sirumel would pay top dollar for it, too.

  But Tura wanted the Iblis to have this artifact. Gabe was sure that the rebel angel wanted her to accidently trigger it, and wipe out the most powerful of the angelic host. When that didn’t happen, Tura would probably just assume the plan failed, or that one of the archangels had managed to get it away from the Iblis in time. He’d never suspect the Gormand had double-crossed him until some ancient started to use the artifact. As long as that ancient stayed in Hel, Tura would probably never know.

  And Nyalla’s insistence on the angel verifying the authenticity of the artifact was ruining the Gormand’s plans. Sirumel might be incredibly skilled at illusion, but Tura had held Job’s Tear in his hand recently. The rebel was no fool. He’d know the Gormand was trying to pass off a copy. So tonight at midnight, the Gormand was going to need to find another angel to verify the faked item was real, or come up with some other way of convincing Nyalla to take him at his word.

  As much as Gabe wanted to flush out Tura, it was more important that Job’s Tear never be used. Ever. So he’d ensure Nyalla happily accepted the fake tonight, arrange to steal the real one from the Gormand, and pray for the patience to wait for another chance to catch Tura.

  One fake to give the Iblis. One fake to swap out the real Job’s Tear from wherever the Gormand had it hidden. And a whole lot of other fakes if they needed a distraction. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, but at least it was a plan, and given that he had no angelic powers at all, this was the best he could do right now.

  “Guys? I’m getting a bit worried.” Terrelle frowned down at her phone. “The last text I got from Snip was an hour ago, and he said he was coming right back. He’s not back. And he hasn’t responded to my last two texts.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t find a human willing to have sex with him?” Nyalla looked up from the floor where she had been picking up beads. “You know how determined he is to cross that one off his bucket list, and I don’t think playing with the waitress last night fully counted as a sexual encounter.”

  “An hour, though? I know Snip, and sex with him would take a maximum of five minutes, and that’s with him taking four minutes to get his pants off. I’m worried.”

  Nyalla stood and picked up her own phone, typing something onto the screen. “Then it’s time for the good old Find My Friends app.” She frowned down at the screen. “Did Snip say where he was in his last text?”

  “Somewhere outside of Baby Beach.”

  Nyalla looked up from her phone. “Well he’s still near there. At least, his phone is still near there.”

  Chapter 20

  “It’s here.” Nyalla parted the thorny leaves and pointed to the phone, face-down in the sandy dirt. She and Terrelle had searched the area while Gabe kept guard. The Find My Friends app wasn’t specific in location beyond a thirty-foot radius, so they’d needed to scour the area, agreeing to claim that one of them had lost their cell phone if some helpful human asked why they were digging around in the brush and cacti that grew wild just outside of Baby Beach.

  She picked up the phone and turned it over. The battery was dead, but otherwise it didn’t appear damaged. Some of the cacti were broken nearby. Terrelle knelt down and swiped her hand across something, bringing her finger up to peer at it.

  “Idiot. Well, Snip got caught and he bled. There’s not enough blood here to be concerned that he’s dead, though, just in case you’re the sort that gets concerned about stupid Lows getting their heads knocked off their bodies.”

  Gabe came over to them, looking between the phone, and the smear of red on Terrelle’s fingers. “Well, this changes things.”

  The information demon sighed. “Yeah. Hopefully Snip won’t tell them about the fake Job’s Tears and our plan to do a heist.”

  “I’m not sure they’ll interrogate him,” Gabe said. “Hopefully they won’t believe we’re smart to have figured out their plan and just assume Snip was spying, or was trying to rob them, or something. They’ll most likely use him as a bargaining chip. We get Snip and stop insisting that we want an angel to verify the exchange — an angel that would clearly know the Gormand was pulling a switch and keeping the artifact for himself.”

  Terrelle snorted. “Even a Gormand isn’t that stupid. You might not realize this, but Lows mean nothing to demons. They’re disposable, fun to use or tear apart without any remorse at all. They’ll torture Snip for info, then kill him. They’ll know he has no value to us in an exchange.”

  “Maybe not,” Nyalla chimed in. “I agree with Gabe, I think they’ll use him in the exchange. You might be a demon, but as far as the Gormand knows, Gabe and I are two humans, and most humans would want to rescue a member of their team, would want to ransom them and make sure they returned alive. He’ll use Snip’s capture to intimidate us into accepting the artifact with the ancient’s verification, then send us on our way.”

  “So what’s our new plan?” Terrelle asked

  “Not much different than the old one,” Gabe said. “We take the fake artifact and Snip tonight, act properly cowed, then steal the real one.”

  Nyalla looked down at the phone in thought. “The angel will most likely take off once the Gormand gives us the fake Tear, but the demons will need to take a boat or plane back somewhere, either to get to a gate back to Hel, or to meet up with another buyer.”

  “Plane,” Terrelle announced. “A boat will take too long. Plus lots of demons are uneasy about being in large bodies of water for any length of time, and they’ll want to get out of here fast before the we give the fake Tear to the Iblis and she discovers the deception.”

  “Then we’ll have all night and early morning to steal the Tear,” Nyalla said. “There are only about ten flights off the island each day and no late-night flights. The first plane leaves at nine in the morning. We can steal the Tear before they leave for the airport, probably while they’re partying it up, celebrating after the midnight exchange.”

  “No.” Gabe frowned. “They won’t celebrate prematurely. If the first plane off the island is at nine, they’ll want to make sure we’re on it, off the island, and that the angel is satisfied the deal is done before they can relax.”

  “So we steal the Tear while they’re watching us board the plane? How is that going to work?” Nyalla asked.

  “They’ll send skinny demon to watch us board the plane, which means we can fool him into thinking we’ve left by doubling back once we’re past security. He’ll stand around outside where he can’t see whether we actually board or not, to watch the plane leave. While he’s doing that, we’ll steal the Tear from the Gormand. The ancient will, not doubt, either be leaving on the plane with us, or off on the island doing his own thing.”
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  “Or hanging with the Gormand,” Terrelle interjected. “Which one of us is going to be the thief?”

  “Someone who won’t raise his suspicions.” Nyalla said.

  “Someone human,” Terrelle said. “At least someone who is temporarily human.” Both of them looked at Gabe.

  “I’m not good at stealing. I’m not even good at being a human. And he’ll recognize me. He’s met me twice and he got close enough to bash my face into the table, so I’m guessing even if he was half-blind he’d recognize me.”

  “We need another human,” Terrelle announced. “I’ve got a weak enough energy signature that as long as I stay far enough away from the Gormand, he won’t recognize me. And I’ll wear a disguise, which will be so much fun. I love disguises.”

  “How are you going to swap the artifact if you have to stay away from the Gormand?”

  “Remember that guy renting the catamarans who wanted me to pay for sex? Marco?” Terrelle grinned. “Well, once wasn’t enough and I’ve been a bit of a regular customer. He has skills that extend beyond the bedroom. He can pick pockets. And I’m willing to bet with enough financial incentive he’ll pick this Gormand’s pocket.”

  “That’s perfect,” Nyalla said excitedly. “Then we hide out on the island, watch to make sure they get on the plane, then we safeguard the Tear to make sure no one ever uses it again, and go home.”

  “I’ll have to figure that safeguarding thing out later,” Gabe said. “Right now I can’t do much on that score as a human. I’ll need to just hold onto it until either I regain my grace, or until I can get it to Rafi.”

  “Why Rafi?”

  Gabe grinned. “Because he owes me one. He doesn’t tell anyone about my being temporarily turned into a human, and I don’t tell anyone about that time he flew at top speed into a billboard.”

  Nyalla nodded. “It sounds like we have a plan, then. Well, the beginnings of a plan. We’ll work out the details of the airport sneak-out while Terrelle meets with her friend for the pick-pocket swap.”

  “And then we hope that they kept Snip alive.”

  “And that Snip kept his mouth shut.”

  Chapter 21

  Nyalla wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and glanced nervously around the beach. It was midnight and the tourists were either in bed, in the casinos, or in the bars. The moon was dipping toward the gulf, streaming paths of white along the waters. Catamarans rocked with the steady flow of small waves, the tide lapping easy as it rolled onto the sands. The only sound was the wind that never seemed to lessen on either side of the island.

  Gabriel’s hand was suddenly warm on hers. “It will be fine. Relax.”

  His deep voice in her ear, the nearness of him was not helping her relax. Nyalla looked down at her bracelet and felt something like static rush over her. He was different. He acted the same but something was different — in his eyes, in the feel of his skin against hers, in the firm set of his mouth.

  He was regaining his grace, edging back toward being more angel and less human. She’d thought maybe she’d have a few months, or at least a few weeks with Gabe the human. Now it seemed she might only have a week or two at the maximum. Then he’d be an angel, an archangel. Her heart ached at the thought, then raced with a sense of urgency. Gripping his hand, she had the urge to make the most of whatever time she had with him before he had no time for her, before he was all about his vibration pattern and the governance of the angelic host.

  “I know it will be fine. But I wish it was just you and me sitting here at this chickie by the water, enjoying the moonlight and the waves without worrying about some dangerous artifact or whether Snip is okay or not, or rebel angels.”

  His hand squeezed hers. “Me too. Maybe when this is all over we’ll go somewhere and you can teach me that scuba diving. We’ll lay in the sand and let the sun heat our skin until the tide rolls in and hits our feet. We’ll go out on those jet skis again, maybe a sailboat.”

  But time was slipping away from them and Nyalla wasn’t sure that they’d be able to do those things before it ran out. But it wasn’t that thought that broke the spell of a magic evening on the beach, it was the two demons stomping toward them, sand kicking up in their wake.

  “I see you still do not have an angel to verify the artifact,” Nyalla said, her chin up and voice strong.

  “No, we were unable to locate one with such short notice. The Iblis will just need to verify it once you get it back to her. If she has a problem with it, then it’s between her and the original owner.” The Gormand set a small box on the round wood table of the chickie. “Where’s your Noodle? She should be able to verify this to your satisfaction, even if you won’t take the word of Sirumel here.”

  Nyalla waved a hand and Terrelle jogged over toward them from a nearby cabana. Gabe reached out and lifted the lid from the box, passing it to Terrelle. She stared at the contents intently, then lifted out a small bead, turning it over in her hand. It was roughly ten millimeters, oblong, nearly a teardrop shape. It’s glossy white color was accented with starbursts of rich brown at either end where the hole was. The ones on the rosaries were the same, the hole a natural occurrence from when the bead had been part of a plant. Some of the rosary Job’s Tears were more brown, some nearly solid white, but enough looked like the artifact to pass visually. She could only hope that Terrelle had done a good enough job that they’d pass other sensory scrutiny as well, at least long enough for them to get off the island.

  “It’s real,” Terrelle said, wonderment in her voice.

  Nyalla started. Real? Could it really be this easy? They dispose of this, then give Sam a fake as Gabe wanted to do, or explain the situation to her as Nyalla wanted to do. It would be wonderful not having to sneak around at the airport or try to steal the real artifact from a suspicious Gormand.

  Or perhaps the illusion was so great that Terrelle couldn’t even detect it. Sirumel was an ancient, after all. An angel-turned-demon would hardly be inept at his specialty after millions and possibly billions of years of practice. Terrelle was good, but she wasn’t any match for an ancient.

  “Here.” Nyalla reached into her bag and pulled out the collar, reluctantly handing it over. The Gormand took it, his lip curling as he gingerly put the circlet into a box. It was done. This whole thing better work because she hated the thought of handing over something so valuable, so useful, when she was getting a fake in return.

  “We have something else of yours, too.” The Gormand waved a hand and Skinny demon appeared, dragging a plastic garbage bag across the sand. “I’ll let you have your friend back, but only when I have the tomatoes and the gambling ship tickets and chips in hand.”

  Nyalla stared at the garbage bag, terrified. Was Snip chopped to bits inside? Was he dead? She’d grown to care for the little guy, and she knew that Sam valued him greatly. She’d be upset if he were dead.

  “Here.” She shoved the tickets and bag of gambling chips at the Gormand. “The tomatoes are around behind the tiki bar over there. Two crates as we agreed upon.”

  Skinny demon dropped the bag. Nyalla barely noticed the Gormand and Ancient rise from their stools, barely saw them walk toward the tiki bar she was so intent on trying to see if there was any movement at all from the bag. The moment they were out of sight, she jumped up and ran. Gabriel beat her there and was already untying the top when she reached them. Ignoring his protests, she dug her nails into the plastic and pulled, tearing a hole in the side big enough to reach in and grab the wet slimy mess inside.

  She couldn’t hold back her sobs when the plastic fell away and she saw the Low. He was naked and soaked in blood, his hair ripped out in clumps. One foot was missing all of its toes and one hand all of its fingers. One ear was a mangled mess, as if something had nearly chewed it off. Where his hair had been pulled in clumps from his head there was bone of his skull showing through. His chest moved with shallow breaths, and she could feel his heart beating. As she wiped the blood from his face, the demon’s eyes poppe
d open.

  “Oh Snip. Snip. Can you fix yourself? Are you going to be able to fix all of this?”

  The Low opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a gargling sound and a stream of thick blood. That’s when Nyalla realized they’d cut the little guy’s tongue out.

  “Low’s don’t repair themselves well,” Terrelle said, her voice just as choked with tears as Nyalla’s was. “He’s badly damaged. I don’t know if he’s going to be able to fix himself fast enough to survive this. We need the Iblis, or an angel. I don’t even know if an elf can help at this point.”

  Nyalla could hold back her grief no longer. She cradled Snip to her chest, rocking the Low back and forth as she sobbed. “We’ll never get him back in time. We can’t take him on the plane like this. Oh Snip, please fix yourself. Please.”

  The Low reached out and squeezed Nyalla’s boob, which just made her cry even harder. Dear perverted little Snip was still trying to cop a feel, even as horribly injured as he was.

  “Nyalla.” Gabe’s hand rubbed her back. “Nyalla, don’t cry. It hurts me so badly when you cry like this. We’ll take him to the human doctors. Maybe they can help him. From what I’ve read in the last few days, they seem to be quite skilled at healing. Nyalla, please don’t cry.”

  Snip’s hand fell limply by his side as he slumped against Nyalla. She let out a little scream and pushed the demon onto his back, frantically trying to perform mouth-to-mouth.

  “Nyalla. Nyalla stop. Please stop.” Gabe’s voice choked. His hand suddenly felt white-hot on her back. She jerked away on reflex and glanced over, the angel looking blurry and distorted through her tears.

  Wait, that wasn’t her tears. He was blurry, with a white light around his hands. He reached out and touched her face. One of her tears fell to splash onto Snip’s body. And everything changed. Light shot around the Low like a shroud, his bones shining clear through his skin. White turned silver then gold and when it faded, Nyalla saw Snip’s chest rise and fall with his breath. He was still missing fingers and toes, was still naked and covered in blood, but he was alive, and the eyes that opened to look into hers were focused and alert.