by Debra Dunbar
Nyalla looked horrified. “Elves do not do that!”
“One did. And she smuggled her baby over here so it wouldn’t be killed.”
“An elf woman bore a hybrid child, and not only allowed it to live, but disguised it as a dead changeling baby so it would be safely raised in place of the human child. In trade, the human child got to be a slave to the elves.” Her words were slow, a storm of emotion lurking on the horizon. I glanced back and forth between her and Wyatt, unsure how to approach this topic. I decided on honesty.
“Yes. But it’s not the child’s fault. It’s not either child’s fault. Elves do changeling swaps all the time. They kidnap older humans too.”
A look of pain and anger crossed Nyalla’s face. “She got to have my life, my childhood, while I was kicked, and scorned, and unloved. I have never known a loving touch because of her. She stole my life. I will never call her sister.”
This really wasn’t turning out like I’d expected.
Wyatt elbowed me. “What is she saying? What are you telling her?”
“I’m explaining who you are and about your family. She’s confused about what’s going on. Just let me talk with her a moment then I’ll translate for you.”
I turned back to Nyalla. “The elves stole your life, not Amber. She’s as much a victim in this as you are.”
Nyalla’s eyes flashed, her jaw set with stubbornness that reminded me of Wyatt when he was digging his heels in about some less–than–savory project of mine. “Some victim. She got a life of love and I got … this.”
“Yes, Amber,” Wyatt interjected, speaking slowly and rather loud as humans do when talking to those who don’t speak their language. “She’s wonderful. You both will be best friends.”
Uhhh, probably not.
“Yes, she has had an easy life, so far, compared to you. But you are now free to do and be whoever you want, while she is hunted. Elves will kill her. Demons will turn her over for the bounty. Vampires would attack her as an enemy. Werewolves and angels might also do her harm. She lives in constant fear that she’ll encounter someone not human while pumping gas or doing yoga and it will be all over.”
Nyalla glared. “Oh, poor little elf–girl! Indulged and pampered, kept safe for two decades, but now she might be snatched out of her golden life and killed. What do you think my life has been? Do you not think every day I worried that I would be killed? That Aelswith would one day put me down like a useless dog? When he sold me to the demons, I thought my worst fears had been realized.”
I winced, sympathetic for the girl and the life she’d had. “But that hasn’t happened, and now you have your whole life ahead of you. We’ll help you, Wyatt and I, and Amber too.”
The mulish look returned to Nyalla’s face. “I do not want her help. I will not ever call her sister.”
“Give her a chance.” I frowned at the slight girl before me. “She’ll embrace you as a sister. It would be best for you to put aside your anger and do the same. It’s not her you should blame, but the elves who have made enslaving humans an acceptable practice.”
She shook her head, obviously unwilling to forgive and forget. “So what am I supposed to do? I cannot communicate with these people; I know nothing of their world and culture. The only tasks I can do are menial housekeeping and sanitation. I will have the same life here as I did with the elves, only more isolated and scorned.”
Kirby’s words flashed across my memory: What would I do? This is all I know. This is my life.
I’d fucked this up. I wanted to show Wyatt I wasn’t as bad as he thought, that I had somehow developed the ability to show compassion. I thought I’d done a good deed in freeing Nyalla, but maybe I hadn’t. This was like when good–hearted people set laboratory animals loose in the wild, only to see them torn to shreds within minutes, or slowly starve over weeks because no one arrived with their food pellets.
I turned and looked at Wyatt, who was waiting impatiently by my side, trying to follow the obviously contentious conversation. He raised his eyebrows.
“Wyatt, I don’t know what to do.” I wasn’t sure whether to reach out to him for comfort or not. “I thought this would be a happy homecoming, but she’s confused. She’s angry that Amber stole her life. She’s been socially deprived, verbally abused her whole life. She’s afraid she doesn’t have the skills or abilities to make the transition and survive in this world.”
Wyatt wrapped his arms around me, and I relaxed, putting my forehead on his shoulder. I’d been walking on eggshells around him ever since I’d gotten back from Hel and was grateful for each small touch. Were we okay or not? I was never really sure, and I was desperately worried this intended olive branch had backfired.
Wyatt ran a hand over my hair and pulled back, holding my shoulders. “She’s in shock, Sam. It’s like PTSD with prisoners of war. We’ll get through it. I’m determined to make it work, and I know she’ll come around with Amber. Everyone comes around with Amber.”
I took a deep breath, but I still couldn’t see this ending in anything but disaster.
“Maybe I should take her back. I’ve pulled in all my favors with the Wythyn side of Tlia–Myea’s family, but maybe I can find a sympathetic elf to take her in. I’d leave her with my household, but someone would get overly excited one day and she’d wind up dead. Plus, she’d have the same dislocation issues that she has now.”
“I’m not letting her go back there.” Wyatt’s jaw set in a masculine replica of his sister. “We’ll take it easy and slow, get her some language skills first and introduce her to fun, enjoyable things. I’ll make this work.”
I sighed. “I screwed this up so bad. I’m sorry, Wyatt. So very sorry.”
He gathered me close, his hand in my hair, his lips against my ear. “Don’t be. This is the best birthday present ever. You did a wonderful thing, Sam. I know it wasn’t easy. It’s not just the difficulty in getting her away from the elves and across the gates that I appreciate, it’s that you thought of it at all. I’m so happy you did something to benefit another human being.”
Wyatt tugged my head back and kissed me, his lips firm against mine. Sliding a hand down, he cupped my rear and pulled me against him. I felt how very happy he was, pushing against my lower stomach.
“Oh, get a room!” Dar snickered.
We pulled apart and I gave Dar a happy look. I didn’t care what he thought, or how un–demonic my display of affection was. I was just thrilled that Wyatt’s and my relationship was starting to return to normal.
“I plan to get a room,” I teased him.
“You? You and him?” Nyalla’s voice was shrill with disbelief. “You have a human toy who is not a damaged slave? You and my brother are mated? But you are a demon. You should have killed him by now.”
Yes, it was odd for a demon to have this sort of relationship with a human. It was odd for a demon to have this sort of relationship at all, but I wasn’t exactly a demon anymore.
“Your brother is my boyfriend. I love him. I would never intentionally hurt him. That’s why I bought you from your owner and smuggled you across the gates. I wanted to reunite him with the sister he lost.”
Nyalla stared at me. “You’re the Iblis, the voice of the demons, and you are in love with a human?”
Maybe that’s one of the reasons I was the Ibls. Wyatt, as well as my friends, had somehow made me less of a demon and more of something else. Of course, that portion of the angel I’d grabbed and held might have something to do with it too.
“Yes. I have human and werewolf friends, and there’s an angel that hangs out at my house all the time.”
Nyalla began to laugh. Tears rolled down her face, and she wiped them away. “Well, I guess if you can somehow fit in over here, then I’ll manage.”
“You will. Wyatt is wonderful. He’s loyal and loving. He’ll help you. And I will too.”
I turned to Wyatt. “I know we had plans for tonight, but perhaps you should take Nyalla to your house and get to know her a bit, on
e–on–one.”
“Ask her. She may not want to be alone with me right away, and we can introduce her to television, Chinese take–out, and popcorn.”
It was a good idea, but I wasn’t sure how comfortable she’d be around me, either. I’d originally planned to have her stay with Wyatt, but perhaps we could all stay here and sleep on the couches. I turned to Nyalla and asked her.
The girl looked back and forth between Wyatt and I, then shot a nervous glance at Dar. “Will he be here too?”
“Nah, I’m leaving.” Dar grinned. “I want to open up a couple of sinkholes over on South Street and maybe collapse the I–70 bridge before I head home.”
Great. He was going to get me in so much trouble. Gregory held me accountable for all the actions of my household, and who knows how pissed he’d be over Dar’s “activities”.
“Just don’t kill anyone,” I warned. “I’ve got enough of those fucking reports to do as it is.”
Nyalla took a deep breath. “Then I think I would like to participate in the mooo–vie and popcan.”
I smiled at her awkward pronunciation. “Popcorn.”
“Popcorn,” she repeated, the beginning of a smile tugging at her lips. It lit up her whole face, and I saw even more resemblance between the thin, pale girl and her gorgeous brother.
“She’ll stay,” I told Wyatt. “Can you order the food? Just get a selection of everything, that way she can try a bite of it all.”
Wyatt pulled a phone from his pocket while Nyalla watched, full of curiosity. I walked Dar to the door, again warning him not to kill any humans and to return back to Hel as quickly as possible.
“Spoilsport,” he teased. “When’s the last time you killed a human?”
“Today,” I admitted. “But it was sort of self–defense. Two humans, a mage, and an angel attacked me in an alley.”
Dar stared before he barked out a laugh. “Did they all walk into a bar with a Rabbi?”
I punched his shoulder. “I’m serious. The mage was worthless. The net he threw over me wouldn’t hold a fucking rabbit, but the angel was a bit of a badass. He flew all over downtown after me, blowing up chunks of pavement along the way.”
My foster brother laughed again. “Sounds like a fun afternoon to me, besides the angel, that is. Was he part of this Ruling Council? One of their flunkies, maybe?”
“I don’t know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “He didn’t seem to know I was the Iblis. Maybe he was some kind of fallen angel and the others were his minions.”
“Yeah, because angels are so weak they need to turn to a really bad mage and two humans for household members?”
“Choir,” I corrected him. “I know it sounds ridiculous.”
“Well that’s the least of your problems right now, Mal. There’s a reason I’m here a day early.”
He pulled a small folded card from his pocket and handed it to me. “Ahriman’s steward delivered this to yours last night. I’m just guessing here, but I’m thinking he’s demanding an answer from you.”
I grimaced. Killing Haagenti had spurred a whole new batch of breeding petitions from hopeful demon candidates. I hadn’t even responded to the ones I’d received last fall. They were gathering dust on my dining room table. Ahriman’s was on the top.
“I saw his petition, Mal. It’s flattering; a great opportunity. Why don’t you take it? It would benefit us all. I’d fucking jump for joy if he offered me half what he’s offered you.”
Bad things happened to demons that got their personal energy, their spirit selves, close to mine. Plus, Gregory had made it quite clear he was vehemently against my having any doings with Ahriman.
“I’ve been busy. And the terms aren’t all that great. Yeah, the household would profit, but the exclusivity is a concern. One thousand years, Dar.”
He tilted his head and grinned. “I’ve waited nearly a thousand years for you to accept my petition. I can stand to wait one thousand more.”
I smiled and took a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. Breaking the seal on the card, I read the contents, which drove the smile right from my face.
“He’s tired of my delays and insists on an immediate answer.” What I didn’t say was that Ahriman intended to pick off my household one at a time until I responded. I got the feeling “no” would not be considered an adequate response.
Dar shrugged. “So do it. I don’t get why you’re hesitating on this one.”
Because Gregory would fucking kill me. And I had an odd dread over the prospect of anything to do with Ahriman. I’d never met him, but that demon had one hell of a ruthless reputation. My mind whirred. I could bring my household here, but there were nearly twenty. There was no way I could keep control over that many demons, and I’d be held accountable for all their actions. Plus, nothing would stop Ahriman from sending over a stream of hit men, as Haagenti had done, to kill them on this side of the gates. I couldn’t protect them all.
I ran a finger down the skin parchment. It was a good offer. He’d even agreed to allow me to return here occasionally and visit the humans, so long as I returned when requested and satisfied the terms of the contract. Wasn’t this part of being responsible? Being the Iblis? I had to put the needs of my household above my own selfish desires.
I took a breath and signed the card, burning my sigil into the parchment with my energy. At least he didn’t expect me to present myself for another two months. That would give me enough time to make arrangements and hopefully figure out some way to explain this to Gregory—if I ever did explain it to him. Perhaps it would be best to just keep this little contract a secret.
“Thanks, Dar.” I handed the card back. “And thanks for all your help in getting Nyalla here.” I reached out and gave him a quick hug. He pulled back, yanking a chunk of my hair with a force that brought tears to my eyes.
“What the fuck, Mal? Are you treating me like one of your humans now?”
“Sorry. Fuck off, asshole. There, how’s that? Better?”
“Much better,” Dar said over his shoulder as he made his way to the rental car he’d already dented. He protested, but I got the feeling that deep down inside, he kind of liked the hug.
Brothers. Family. I thought of Dar and Leethu, of all the demons I had a strange affection for. I thought of Wyatt, of Amber and Nyalla, of Michelle and Candy. And I thought of that darned angel. They were all my family; mine. In spite of the earlier drama, the less than ideal situation with Nyalla, that I’d nearly gotten killed by some psychotic rebel angel, that I’d just signed a deal with Ahriman, in spite of all that, I felt …happy.
~4~
I was overcome with a sense of déjà vu as the angel plopped a human head on my dining room table.
“This better not take long,” I warned him. I should have been used to these unplanned visits by now, and normally I was thrilled to see him, but today’s appearance was especially inconvenient. Wyatt and I had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning watching movies and introducing Nyalla to earth culture and cuisine. He’d left just a few moments ago to pick up Amber from the airport, giving me precious little time to get ready for his party tonight.
“It’s important.” He motioned to the head.
It didn’t look very important. The last time he’d shown up with a head at my door, he’d insisted it was a demon, only to retract his statement later, telling me it was a human who had been cryogenically frozen. Everyone makes mistakes — everyone except angels, that is. Gregory admitting to an error was fishy enough. This head on my table only confirmed my doubts.
“And there’s a Ruling Council meeting tomorrow. I’ll pick you up early in the morning.”
His announcement distracted me from my perusal of the slightly decomposed head. I’d had little sleep last night, curled up with Wyatt on the couch keeping Nyalla company, and I intended for Wyatt and I to remain awake and active all night, celebrating his survival of yet another year. Humans didn’t live very long, and I wanted each one I shared with
Wyatt to count. All that was going to make for a very rough time of it at the Ruling Council meeting tomorrow. Normally I wouldn’t mind sleeping through it, but this one was all about me and my endless stream of four nine five reports.
“Is this the meeting for the report I’m protesting, or to go over the other ones?” I rubbed a crick in my neck, stiff from both a night on the couch and the prospect of six angels chewing my ass out.
“All of the above.”
Shit. Well, no use fretting about what tomorrow might bring, especially when I had this lovely head on my dining room table. “So, what’s up with this guy?” I poked a cheek with my finger. The skin was damp and cool with a waxy sheen.
“Do you know him?” Gregory asked.
Yes, definitely déjà vu. I reached for the head and ran a thorough scan. Empty. It appeared to be human, but oddly stripped. I looked at the facial features, but didn’t recognize this as the Owned form of any demon I knew.
“Another cryogenically frozen human?” I turned to the angel, searching for the slightest reaction. “How are you finding these, and why are you bringing them to me?”
“I lied at the council meeting. The head I brought you this winter was a demon, and so is this one.”
He lied? Not that angels seemed to be adverse to falsehood, but why would he have lied to his peers, the other angels on the council? What reason would he have to hide a demon death from them?
“So just mark it as a dead demon by unknown causes and move on. Why bother to lie? It’s not like anyone would care about a dead demon.” I certainly didn’t care about a dead demon. I didn’t know him.
His black eyes bored into mine. “This type of death is very similar to one I’ve encountered before, but there are differences. I suspect that this is not what it seems, that someone may be employing misdirection. If so, I don’t want them to know I’m on to them until I figure out who is doing this, and why.”
I frowned. I knew politics were convoluted up in Aaru, but Gregory seemed more suspicious than usual. “And you can’t trust the Ruling Council? Do you suspect one of them?”