by Debra Dunbar
They headed out and I cuddled Lux against my shoulder. As I held him, he changed form in a flash, switching from adorably pudgy infant to something resembling a two-year-old toddler.
“Da?” he asked me.
“He’s busy,” I told the angel. Lux might look like an infant most of the time, but he was perfectly capable of understanding every word that came out of my mouth, even if he sometimes pretended otherwise. “He promises to come by tomorrow night, and unless something blows up, we’re going to all go to the moon this weekend. Isn’t that exciting? There’s no atmosphere there and it’s in a vacuum, so you’ll be able to practice creating and maintaining a physical form that fits the different environment. There’s dead volcanos and craters and not a lot of gravity. It’s not as much fun as Jupiter or Uranus, but your father felt it would be a good start for you.”
Lux’s little brows furrowed and he put his hand over my nose. “Breathe?”
Funny that he was worried about this trip when he’d been regularly killing himself since I brought him here. “We will be right there with you, to hold your spirit-self and help you in creating an appropriate form,” I told him. “The first time your father took me somewhere like that, I was scared as fuck, but he kept me safe. He’ll keep you safe too.” And I would as well.
“I want to go to the moon.” Nyalla came out of the kitchen with a bottle of milk in one hand and a soda in the other.
“Ny’la!” Lux squealed and nearly fell out of my arms in his eagerness to get to Nyalla. I waited for her to put the drinks down, then handed the angel to her, watching as he reverted to an infant human form. My girl cooed at him and he immediately shoved his thumb in his mouth and cuddled up against her chest.
“I’ll bring back pictures,” I told her. “I don’t think you’d like it there.”
She laughed, hugging Lux tight then setting him down on the couch and handing him the bottle of milk. “Not if I couldn’t breathe, I wouldn’t. I guess I’ll just have to be happy exploring the oceans. There’s enough there to keep me happy for a lifetime.”
I looked down at Lux, happily slurping his milk. When he was done, he ran his tongue across his upper lip, not quite getting all of the milk mustache off.
I loved this kid. He was a complete pain in the ass, and I loved him.
“Sam?” Nyalla reached out a hand to touch my arm. “Is something wrong?”
Yes, something was wrong. I was worried about us ending up back in a war with the angels, destroying all the progress I’d made to unite us both, but even more than that, I worried about Lux. What if Remiel stole him one day when the Lows or Nyalla were watching him? I didn’t want to give the little angel back. I didn’t want Remiel to have him. A sire who’d callously hidden his offspring with an Ancient and given instructions to kill the child wasn’t fit to have custody. But he was Lux’s sire. Shouldn’t the angel have the opportunity to know the only one of his creators left alive? It was a weird situation, since demons normally formed offspring, then set them up in a dwarven foster home with a trust fund for their care, never bothering to see them again.
There were exceptions. Ahriman had wanted to form a weapon with me, to create a demon who could take back Aaru and devour the entire angelic host. Yes, he’d still have had dwarves raise the child, but in a few hundred years, he would have taken possession of it and used it as a tool. And I got the feeling that was what Remiel wanted, not some personal relationship with his offspring.
We weren’t humans. We weren’t angels. We didn’t raise our young or have anything to do with them unless they were of use to us. And I totally distrusted Remiel’s motives.
“No, I’m fine. Hey, why don’t you take Lux up to my room and get him settled in? I’ll grab a few bags of chips and some beers and we’ll all watch movies in bed.”
Nyalla gave me an odd look. “Okay. No gangster movies though.”
Never again. I promised we’d watch wholesome kids’ shows, and watched as she took Lux upstairs, then I went over to my mirror, pressing the blinking cabochons. No one used this thing lately, especially since I didn’t have a steward in Hel to relay messages to me. I wasn’t surprised when the message came up from Remiel.
Greetings, Iblis. I dislike being so abrupt, but we both have pressing and important demands on our time. Please contact me at your earliest convenience so that we may arrange for a meeting to discuss something of value that I would like to purchase from you.
Purchase from me. I gritted my teeth in anger at the words as well as his casual tone.
I’m ready to make you a very timely offer that you can’t refuse.
I shuddered, again thinking about the horse’s head. Maybe Lux had the right idea and I should post some security on the stables, or at the very least let Diablo know that he needed to go all demon-hybrid on anyone that tried to harm him or the other horses. Remiel’s message seemed friendly and almost jovial on the surface, but I knew enough about demons to read between the lines.
There was no sign-off, nor any deadline, but Remiel didn’t need to give one. His communication clearly indicated that I needed to jump on this right away—as in in the next day or two right away.
I set the mirror aside and got ready to head upstairs when something on my dining room table caught my eye.
It looked like the sort of document demons sent each other—things like formal requests and breeding proposals. I picked it up, noting the human-skin parchment as well as the ward keyed to my eyes only. Another message from Remiel, in case I wasn’t checking my mirror? I’d just spoken with Doriel and Tasma, so I doubted it was from them, but such a presentation was a bit over-the-top for a regular demon.
Unless it was a breeding proposal, which would be hysterical. I hadn’t had one of those since the Ahriman incident. I guess other demons either felt I was too unstable, or that my level in the hierarchy was too weird to know what sort of things to suggest in exchange. Either that or my reputation for devouring put everyone on edge. Heck, I’d devoured Haagenti and transmuted the last guy I’d accepted a breeding contract with. I could imagine demons would think twice before considering a possibly fatal breeding incident with me.
Huh. Maybe someone was ballsy enough to give it a shot. I broke the seal and chuckled as I thought about Gregory’s reaction when I showed him this. And then I read the contents and with a horrible sense of dread, realized that I wouldn’t be showing this to Gregory. Ever.
To the imp named Az, commonly called “Samantha Martin” among the humans, claiming the title of the “Iblis.” My long wait for vengeance is over. I will not rest until every angel is dead, as well as their precious humans. Meet with me to swear allegiance and return the sword and I will spare you. If you don’t, you’ll be the last I kill, and I’ll make sure you have a close, in-person view when I execute my siblings. Samael—Iblis and Leader of Hel.
I stormed out the back door and down to the guest house, shouting for Snip as I barged through the door.
“Where did this come from?” I shoved the missive at the Low.
His brow creased. “I don’t know, Mistress. Where did you find it?”
“On my dining room table.” I lifted my head to include all the Lows who had gathered in the main room. “Someone delivered this. I need to know who.”
There was a buzz as all the Lows conferred. “Mistress, no stranger entered the house. The note was not on the table while we were there taking care of Lux. It must have arrived after you did.”
Could someone have teleported into my home and in a split second, left the note before teleporting out? I couldn’t imagine that happening without my sensing it, or Nyalla’s sensing it. Which meant that one of the Lows had deposited the note on his way out.
Which meant one of my Lows was a traitor. And I had a good idea who too.
I folded the parchment and stuck it in my pocket. At least I knew who was behind the angel deaths as well as the enforcer ones. And I knew what his endgame was. Now I just had to stop it. Myself. Because I
didn’t want Gregory or any of the archangels to have to be the hand that killed their brother.
Yeah, I was an imp, but I’d seen through the threats in that note. If Samael wanted the sword back and had been the same archangel he’d been before the fall, all he would have had to do was extend his hand and call it. If he could, he would have already had the thing in hand. Instead he wanted to lure me in either to kill me in an attempt to regain the sword, or to use me as leverage to lure in his siblings. Neither was going to work, because like everyone else he had grossly underestimated me. I’d face him. And I’d beat him, because I was an imp.
And more than that, I was the Iblis.
Chapter 10
“This is…” Nyalla grimaced and slid the parchment across her bedspread to me. “This is disturbing.”
“You can’t tell Gabe,” I warned her. “I don’t want any of them to know about this yet. Gregory already suspects because the dead enforcers bore an energy trace that was similar to Samael’s. He wanted to keep that quiet. I want to keep this quiet.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“Wait until he summons me, then come crawling like a beggar on my knees and kill his fucking ass, that’s what.”
“Good. And Lux?”
I’d told her about Remiel as well. “That Ancient is getting him over my dead body. I can’t afford to antagonize him with all this shit going on right now, though. If I fail to kill Samael and this comes down to war, I’ll need all the other Ancients behind me.”
“So?” She glanced worriedly toward her door. Lux was downstairs with some milk and oatmeal, watching a cartoon about teenage superheroes cohabitating in a building built like a giant T.
“So I lie. I’ll find out why he wants Lux, then prevaricate like a motherfucker. Wait until after I feel better able to take Remiel on, then let him know that he’s never getting Lux back. Hopefully he’ll accept that, because I really don’t want to try my luck in killing two powerful Ancients back-to-back like this.”
Nyalla nodded and glanced at the door once more. “Let me know how I can help. I better get down there before Lux decides to get himself more oatmeal. He’s not very good at boiling water.”
Thankfully the angel was very good at repairing scalded skin, although he’d made quite a huge fuss about burning himself. Honestly, I think part of that fuss was so he could get a chance to snuggle up to Nyalla’s boobs again. Gabe better watch out, or he was going to be shoved aside for a golden-haired infant with some pretty smooth moves.
“Sam!” Nyalla called from the stairs. “Snip is here with a guest?”
Oh fuck. Doriel. With the note and Remiel’s message, I’d forgotten her visit was today.
I hotfooted it down the stairs in enough time to see Doriel walk into my home, escorted by Snip. She was in a different female human form, this one with inky skin and a cap of buzz-cut hair. Decorative scarring lined her collarbone and her cheekbones and the piercing she had in her lower lip dangled a tiny gold bead. I’m not sure when or where she’d acquired this form, but the human woman she’d Owned was over six feet tall with the sort of graceful musculature that could just as easily outrun a small car as snap a telephone pole in half.
I’d felt her energy from the hallway and winced. No wonder the Ancient didn’t make a habit of leaving Hel. Every angel in her general vicinity would probably know she was here. If she hadn’t come in under my protection, Grigori enforcers would have been on her like flies on shit. And while I’m pretty sure the Ancient could take on pretty much any angel thrown at her, being constantly attacked wasn’t a great way to start a vacation.
Well, unless you were a warmonger, that is. Doriel wasn’t a warmonger. She was one of those unspecialized Ancients that meant she was old, old, old. And powerful, powerful, powerful. I wasn’t sure if she could dial things down and hide her energy signature or whether she was so strong that she didn’t bother, preferring instead to walk around with a giant blazing fuck-you energy that felt like a nuclear blast coming through my doorway.
“Welcome!” I dismissed Snip with a quick wave of my hand and ushered the Ancient into my living room. “I hope your journey was pleasant and that the gate guardian didn’t give you any trouble.”
She gave me a toothy smile. “She wasn’t pleased, but she gave me no trouble at all. Clearly I’d underestimated you, Iblis. Your network is more far-reaching than I’d imagined.”
I think it had helped that I didn’t have over three million years of baggage to cart around. And a shared love of fashion and cheap Chinese take-out hadn’t hurt.
“Who is this?” She eyed Lux with curiosity. He was doing the same from the couch, oatmeal smeared across his chin and chest. He was naked, as always, with Nyalla hovering protectively by his side.
“Lux. My kid.”
Doriel tilted her head. “He’s not of your creation. And he’s an angel, which means his sire is an angel. After all that happened in the war and afterward, what angel would possibly breed with us?”
“More than you think. There’s another angel newborn besides Lux, and several angel pairings that I believe will result in angelic offspring in the next few decades.”
She caught her breath and stared, fascinated as Nyalla scooped Lux up into her arms. The angel revealed his wings, spreading them for maximum effect as he buried his face in Nyalla’s cleavage. As the girl carried him up the stairs, the angel peered over her shoulder at us and stuck out his tongue at Doriel.
The Ancient said nothing, but as she watched the angel infant, I saw a desperate longing in her eyes.
“What can I get you?” I headed into the kitchen and was a bit surprised when Doriel followed me. “An omelet? Pizza? Beer? Vodka?”
“Whatever you’re having. It’s been so long since I’ve been out of Hel I don’t even remember which human foods or beverages I prefer.” She gave me a brief smile that held a hint of sadness. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done more than slumber. It’s a treat just to see everything, to experience all the sensations of the human world. I’d forgotten how seductive, how breathtaking it can all be. They’ve done wonderful things, these humans have. I’d always thought the angels would squash them under a too-firm hand.”
I winced. “I’m afraid that still might happen. Up until now, the angels have only devoted a small group of Grigori to shepherding the humans through their evolution. The rest of them locked themselves up in Aaru like the sanctimonious shits they are. Eventually they started fighting amongst themselves about whose shit didn’t stink. Suddenly there’s more rebellion, this time between the conservative faction and the more conservative faction.”
She shrugged. “Without us to fight they turned on each other. I’m not surprised. Our punishment was banishment and theirs was having to live in an Aaru without us.”
I pulled two beers out of the fridge, popped the caps off and handed her one. “Now they don’t even have Aaru.”
She took a swig and shot me a raised-eyebrow look. “And that is a hollow victory since we cannot seem to exist as beings of spirit. Although Remiel paid me a call late last night and told me he thinks he might have a solution to that.”
Did that solution have something to do with Lux? I stiffened, even more resolved that he’d never lay a hand on my little angel. Never.
“Personally, I think in his desperation he’s focusing on the wrong thing.” Doriel glanced over the divider between the kitchen and the great room, looking toward the stairs. “There’s something else I’m more interested in at the moment than Aaru.”
“Like what?”
She gave me a sly smile. “Well, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Things in Hel are kind of boring with most of the elves gone. If Remiel isn’t going to bother taking this world from the angels, perhaps I’ll do it myself.”
Shit. One more thing to deal with. Add one more Ancient trying to fuck shit up to my list.
“How about you hold off on that idea
for a bit. I’m working toward a situation where we all can share this place. There are a few issues I need to clear up before I ask the Ruling Council to consider my proposal again, but I’ve floated the idea out there, and I think some will eventually be agreeable.” I told her. “Angels will have their spots and demons have their spots. We’d all have to come to agreements with the humans about the rules, though.”
“Rules?” Her nose wrinkled.
“Yes, rules. Not eight hundred pages and PowerPoint slides rules, but basic standards of conduct.” I fixed her with a glare. “And don’t give me some shit about how Angels of Chaos don’t do rules. We have rules in Hel. Don’t fuck with someone’s household members unless you want to pay a blood price, or are able to take out the entire household in a feud. Steal shit and get caught, and you better be a fast talker or you’re dead and no one owes a blood price. We have breeding contracts that would rival some of the four-nine-five reports I’ve filled out. We have rules.”
“These rules need to fit on a double-sided piece of parchment, or no demon is going to abide by them,” she warned. “And whatever you’re thinking of needs to happen pretty soon, because I’m ready for this now.”
She was right. Get a horde of demons all worked up to fight, and it would be near impossible to talk them down.
“Those issues I told you about? Well, there is someone who is here killing angels and Grigori enforcers. That’s a problem. Plus, if Remiel decides he wants to throw his hat in the ring, that’s an issue as well. I need this place clear of unruly demons and angel-killing Ancients before the Ruling Council is going to consider some sort of co-rule.”
She shrugged. “You’re the Iblis. Take care of it. I’ll only be patient for so long. As for Remiel, he clearly has another priority with Aaru.
I tried to ignore the fact that Remiel’s priority included that young angel Doriel had just seen. “Say I make a deal where I give you a section of the human world? For helping me get rid of these rabble rousers and fighting on my side if it comes to war?”