by Debra Dunbar
She gave me a sidelong glance before turning to secure a gaudy headpiece to her blond hair. “You know Irix is going to kill both of us if he finds out.”
Where was she going with this? “Uh, then let’s make sure he doesn’t find out?”
“I have something to request in return for this service you’re asking of me.”
I caught my breath. Amber had clearly been learning more than sexual technique from her incubus boyfriend. “I will gladly offer you a favor in return for this. Any favor, as long as it doesn’t break any vow I’ve previously made.”
Standard language, but Amber shook her head. “No. I want immunity for Irix. Permanent immunity.”
“He won’t join my household.” Not that I blamed him. Membership in my household tended to dramatically shorten a demon’s life expectancy. “Only demons who are members of my household are granted immunity.”
Amber arched an eyebrow. “You’re on the Ruling Council. You’re the Queen of Hel in their eyes. And more importantly, you’re banging the Archangel Michael. Get busy with the pillow-talk and get it done, girl.”
I don’t know if I was more astonished that she knew Gregory’s real name or that she thought I could sway him on something like this—even in the throes of passion. Love only went so far with a six-billion-year-old angel, and Gregory always managed to see through my attempts to sweet talk him into doing something for me. That angel got such perverse pleasure out of telling me ‘no’.
“He’s not heading up Aaru right now, Gabriel is. And we don’t exactly see eye to eye.”
“ Please .” And now she was rolling her eyes. “We both know who is really in charge up there. Like he’d ever completely hand the reins over to his little brother.”
She knew my angel very well for a woman who’d never actually met him. “Okay. Irix will have permanent immunity. But he needs to follow the rules, or the angels will revoke it.”
Amber smiled, and I caught my breath at her beauty. “Then we have a deal. Let me know the exact date and time, and I’ll be there. Irix’s immunity begins immediately.”
“Deal.” It’s not like I had much choice. Gareth had me over a barrel with my bare ass in the air. I needed to get this done. I needed to owe him and Kirby less favors. This would satisfy my debt to Kirby. One down. A dozen or so more to go.
I left soon after Amber. Eighteen inadvertent side trips later and I finally managed to make it home. Well, in the general vicinity of home. Luckily I was able to carjack some poor sap and get him to drive me the remaining forty miles to my house. My less-than-stellar ability to teleport meant I’d wasted the whole night trying to get where I wanted to go, arriving at my door sleepy and irritable right as Nyalla was pouring cereal and making coffee. She smiled as I came in the door, but her cheerful greeting seemed forced.
Oh no. I was leaving for Hel in a few hours. Although Gareth could wait if my Nyalla needed me.
“So, how are things with you and Nils?” I took the cup of coffee she handed me, trying to keep my voice casual and upbeat. Inside I was fuming, my fuse especially short after my teleportation disasters earlier. I swear, if that Fallen Angel had hurt her, I’d hang the bastard from my rafters.
Nyalla wrinkled her nose. “Some things are really, really good. You know.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Yeah, I got it. “But he’s got a lot of baggage.” She laughed. “Not that I don’t have my own baggage, but Nils has four-million years of it.”
Shit, that was a lot of luggage. I nodded sympathetically. “Trust me, I know. I’m partial to angels myself, but maybe you should stick with humans.”
Nyalla shrugged. “Like the guys on that dating site? I don’t know, Sam.”
I set my cup down. “Okay, spill it. Something is bothering you, and I don’t have time to waste weaseling it out. Do I need to smack Nils around a bit? Do you need me to buy you a puppy?”
I had no idea what made young human women happy, so I held my breath and waited for her reply.
“Maybe I should swear off sex for a while, give Nils his marching orders, and concentrate on other things.”
Shit. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like Nyalla’s definition of ‘other things.’ “Like hanging by the pool and going to the beach?” I asked hopefully
She winced. “You’ve been wonderful to me, Sam, but I need to work. I can’t sit by the pool and play in the surf the rest of my life. Well, I can, but I have to do something meaningful too. I need a job.”
Well, that wasn’t too bad. “Candy hired your friend. I’ll bet Michelle can find something for you. Or you could waitress down at the Eastside Tavern.”
“I don’t want to waitress or file or take rental applications. I want to do what you do.”
Every bit of air left my lungs at the thought of Nyalla doing what I do. As Amber had said, I was sort of the unofficial queen of Hel. Nyalla was a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. “How about college? Or...?” I didn’t know what else to suggest. The only human jobs that came to mind were ones she’d already rejected.
“I can help you with stuff,” she pleaded. Damn, I hated it when Nyalla got that hopeful look in her eyes. Once she started down that path, I ended up agreeing to anything she wanted. “I understand demons and how things work in Hel. I know werewolves. I’ve got my gift. I took out a ghoul, restrained an angel.”
What the fuck did she think she was going to do for me? She was a human, soft and squishy. I couldn’t put her in harm’s way. “Nyalla, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you become a nurse, or an accountant?”
Sheesh. Why didn’t I tell her to marry a nice Jewish doctor while I was at it?
“I can do it. I’ll be like those brothers on that television show, the one where they hunt all the paranormal creatures.”
It took me a few seconds to remember which show she was referring to. “Tell me you don’t mean the whiny blond one.”
“No, the other one. I like burgers and beer, and pie. I’ve been enslaved in Hel. I hang with a Fallen Angel.”
“Doesn’t he have some kind of magic knife or gun or something he uses to kill demons and vampires and stuff?”
“I’ve got my gift.” She bounced enthusiastically. “And I’ve got a collar and a wand. And Harper showed me how to stab someone.”
Mad skills. Great. I looked at the kitchen clock. “I’ve got to pop over to Hel and then help Gareth run down a stolen magical item. I’ll be back in a few days and we’ll talk. Until then, don’t go summoning any demons. Or angels. Or banishing anyone. Okay?”
Nyalla scoffed. “I have no magical ability. I might be able to draw the runes, but they’d be no more than decoration unless I had someone to help me.”
That’s what worried me. “Promise.”
She pouted, but I saw a hint of a smile on the edge of her mouth. Little shit knew she’d won. “I promise, Sam.”
I had to figure out a way to keep Amber safe in Hel, retrieve a stolen item for Gareth, and help my angel retrieve another stolen item. Eventually I’d need to deal with the elven problem I’d been procrastinating about, as well as decide which demons I wanted to set up with Gregory’s brothers. I also needed to locate and punish enough non-creditworthy humans to keep the Ruling Council off my back, and now come up with an exciting job for Nyalla—one that wouldn’t get her killed.
I had a headache. And if I didn’t get a move on, I was going to be late.
Chapter 5
My demons had provided excellent hospitality for Gareth while he awaited my arrival. Unfortunately, hospitality meant something very different to humans than what my Lows had enthusiastically offered. I found the sorcerer perched uncomfortably in a chair that was covered with a mosaic of teeth and toenails. Rats squealed and ran around the room, chasing two of my household who had smeared a mixture of pfeu and rancid butter over their fur and scales. Pfeu was better known as rat crack. The game was to avoid getting anything important nipped off as the rodents tried to get a bite of pfeu. The more the
y ate, the more they wanted, and this game usually ended with the participants a bloody mess on the floor.
Good fun, but Gareth didn’t seem inclined to join in. He’d moved the sealed jar of pfeu as far from him as possible, just in case the rats decided to go for the main stash. I shooed the nonhumans out of the room and shook Gareth’s hand, glancing down to see what food and drink my household had offered him. Roasted beaks and serpent’s blood. Wow, they’d really gone all out for this guy.
“Sorry I’m late.” I grabbed a few beaks from the bowl and tossed them into my mouth. I could never resist beaks. “And I’m sorry about the décor.” I hadn’t gotten around to redecorating after I’d killed Ahriman and scored his possessions, including this ghastly house. It wasn’t high on my priority list with everything else I had going on, and my Lows seemed to like it the way it was.
“I’ve sat on worse.” He looked at the seat with resignation. It was then I remembered he’d done work for Ahriman. No doubt the demon had taken perverse pleasure at making Gareth endure the worst of his freaky psychopathic interior design skills.
“So... .” I clapped my hands together. “What am I retrieving for you? Wand? Staff? Amulet? Scroll?”
“A gem.”
I liked bling as much as the next girl. Normally that would have sounded exciting, but I got a shivery sensation up my spine at Gareth’s words. This gem might be pretty, but I had a feeling it was going to be spelled with something truly nasty.
“And...?” Sometimes the best way to find something out is to ask, and then just shut up and wait. I’m not very good at shutting up or waiting, but evidently Gareth was worse.
“It enhances the power of a spell. It’s a five-carat alexandrite. The last time I saw it, the gem was set in a ring, but it may have been removed from the setting.”
Five carats was one fucking big ring. I whistled softly, thinking of the stone. Alexandrite was a cloudy mess of pink, purple, olive, and emerald. It was one of my favorites. Normally I’d be tempted to keep such a thing for myself, but I had no use for spell power enhancement.
“So, in spite of whoever originally stole it, it’s probably now in the hands of a mage or sorcerer,” I conjectured. “What kind of spell does it enhance? Is it purpose-built to only certain specialties, and does it have a limit?”
I’d tracked down enough rogue sorcerers in my life that I knew what to ask about magical items. When high-level magic users ran away from their elven masters, they usually didn’t do it empty-handed. And it was often the shit they carried with them that a demon needed to be wary of.
“It’s general in application.” Gareth avoided my eyes, looking down at the bowl of beaks and fingering them as if he were considering actually eating one.
General purpose wasn’t good news for me, but it was the questions he hadn’t answered that had my skin crawling again. “How many charges? And to what level does it enhance a spell?” I repeated my questions with more specific language.
His eyes met mine, and I didn’t like the deception I saw in them. “I’m not exactly sure. I had a partner in creating this magical item, and I’m not certain what he’s done to it since he stole it.”
“Wait.” The headache was coming back, and it wasn’t just the fact that Gareth had lied to me that was causing it. “You know who took it? And you’ve been waiting around for me to go get him?”
So much for easy peasy. How long had this fucking thing been gone? And how badass was Gareth’s ‘partner’ that he would rather throw me at him and spend a favor than take care of the situation himself?
The sorcerer took a deep breath. “My partner in this project is an elf named Swiftethian. I have no concrete proof he took it, but I was secretive about my involvement, and I know he was too. I can’t imagine anyone else would have known about it.”
I didn’t know Swiftethian, but elves generally didn’t work as ‘partners’ with humans. They taught them magical skills then reaped the fruit of their slave’s labors. “So what did the elf get out of this partnership? From how you’ve described this gem, it hardly seems like anything an elf could use. Why would he partner with you?”
“I paid him. Without human slaves, some elves are in need of money, and I needed his expertise.”
More lies. I was on the verge of a migraine. Whatever. It was clear I wasn’t going to get any more out of Gareth. I was used to haring off on missions for elves who lied and sent me out to my probable death. Why should this human be any different? Fine. I was disappointed as all hell about such treatment from someone I’d kinda considered a friend, but we demons were used to looking out for ourselves. So that’s what I was going to do.
“I’m afraid this service you’re requesting is of greater value than one favor.”
“Do this and I’ll clear your debt. This plus the agricultural project to Libertytown for Kirby and you won’t owe either of us anything.”
Holy shit. It was worse than I’d thought. What the fuck was this gem, and who was this Swifty elf that he was worth a dozen demon favors? I’d need to let Gregory and Nyalla know I might be unavailable for more than a few days.
“Deal.”
I munched beaks as I escorted Gareth out, feeling the weight of debt lift from my shoulders. Nasty-ass gem and a thieving elf shouldn’t take me all that long to deal with. I’d killed Feille, faced down a mob of angels, killed Ahriman, and survived blowing myself to bits. I could certainly handle this. And then I would have one less pile of shit on my to-do list.
After popping over to Dis for some preliminary investigative work, I headed to see Kirby. The flight was less than enjoyable. This was the first time I’d used my wings since the fight with the manticore, and although my right wing didn’t pulse with pain, it still wasn’t fully healed. As I flew, the scar tissue around the injury began to break, and my motions became more fluid. Hopefully by tomorrow, I’d be fully functional again.
Tomorrow. Which actually was today. I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten more than a handful of roasted beaks. I was going to settle things up with Kirby then take a long nap before I set out to try and find this gem of Gareth’s.
From the air, Libertytown was impossible to miss. The area had formerly been part of the elven kingdom of Cyelle, but it was clear where the elven lands ended and the human ones began. The trees were yellowed and stunted, patches of lush meadow pockmarked with thorny scrub and red sand. I circled around the huddled buildings of the city and landed in front of Kirby’s magic shop.
It was still pretty early in the morning, but the door wasn’t locked. The mage was bent over a staff, carefully carving the wood.
“Hey, Sam,” the mage said without lifting his head from his work. “Gareth said you were on your way.”
Mages. It was like they had the equivalent of text messaging. “Do you know an elf named Swiftethian? He did some work with Gareth, and I’m trying to track him down.” It was a long shot, but if the mage knew this elf, it would make my gem hunt a lot easier.
Kirby shook his head. “I certainly don’t know every elf in Cyelle, but if the guy was involved with the mage apprentice program, or a sponsor, I’m sure I would have heard of him.”
Damn. Gareth had told me his partner wasn’t from Wythyn and had been really cagy about his kingdom affiliation. You’d think an elf with a big-ass gem would have drawn some attention, but no one in Dis had seen him coming or going. I had my demons checking for any affiliations on our side while I tried every avenue I could to avoid actually going into the elven territories. That wasn’t a can of worms I was ready to open at this moment.
“Fair-skinned dude with sharp features. Light, golden-blond hair, brown eyes. About 5’ 8”. Slim. Dresses like minor nobility. He’s got a long scar on the outside of his left thumb.”
“Sorry. If he’s blond, he’s a Southern elf. Probably not Klee, since they’re darker in complexion.”
Great. That narrowed it down to three kingdoms, assuming Gareth and Kirby were right and I could rule out Wythyn and C
yelle.
“Thanks. Oh, and I have someone I’ll be sending over to help with your crops. She’s got to finish up at college, so it’s gonna be early summer. I’ll need you to escort her around Libertytown and translate for her, since she only speaks English.”
Kirby’s shoulders slumped. “I guess a human agriculture major is better than nobody, although I’m not sure what they’re going to be able to do that we haven’t tried already.”
“She’s not a human. She’s a half-elf, and she’s really good with plants.”
The mage stared in shock. “Not the baby? You’re not seriously bringing the demon-elf-hybrid baby over here. Sam, she’ll be killed.”
“She’s not a baby; she’s graduating college, for fuck sake.” I spread my wings and stretched the achy right one in preparation for another long flight. “And I’m hoping you’ll keep her from getting killed.”
Kirby set the staff aside. I noted he kept the carving knife in hand. “Right. You’re supposed to be the one repaying the favor here, Sam. I’ve got a backlog of orders to fill. I’ll show your half-elf girl around, but I don’t have the time or the magical firepower handy to guard her against all the demons and elves that are going to want her head on a stake. Get one of your household to be her bodyguard.”
“Do you want crops this year, or a decade from now? She won’t be here until summer. That’s plenty of time to throw some defensive shit together. I’ll send one of my demons over to help, but I need you to ensure her safety. Otherwise you’ll have to wait until I build up some goodwill with the elves and convince one of them to do it, which could be outside the limits of your life expectancy.”
Kirby rubbed his forehead, nearly slicing himself with the knife. “Okay. But send a decent demon. Hopefully by the time the word gets out that she’s here, she’ll be long gone.”
I hoped so too. But I still needed to figure out something to keep Amber safe beyond one Low and a mage, even if it involved dragging Dar back to Hel by his balls. Shit, if he couldn’t be away from that angel for a paltry few weeks, what good was he?