I headed for Dis, going straight to Gareth’s shop. The last time I’d been there the building had been surrounded by several layers of tight spells to keep thieves and intruders from getting within fifty feet of the door. Not only were those wards gone, but the shop was closed.
This wasn’t the “be back after lunch” sort of closed either. It looked like the place had gone out of business. Plywood covered the windows, and the locked door had lumber in an X nailed across it. There was no way a skilled sorcerer would have gone out of business in Dis, so I peeked through cracks in the plywood to see inside, wondering if this was some new security system.
Inside the store was empty. Even the cabinets and shelves were gone. It was just a building, without so much as a sprig of herbs to indicate what had previously been sold here.
Had Gareth died? What the hell had happened? I left the store and went over to my home, hoping someone in my household would know.
The freaky horror show of a house that had once belonged to Ahriman had a few new skulls decorating the porch along with a blackened section of the stone from an explosion, but was otherwise the same as I’d last seen it. Ahriman may have been a psychotic asswipe, but the guy knew how to build a sturdy house. If it could stand up to the antics of my Lows, it could stand up to anything.
Inside a dozen of my household were doing keg stands, taking bets on how much they could imbibe before they puked or their stomachs exploded. The Lows popped back and forth between Hel and my home in the human world regularly, so I was never really sure who would be here and who wouldn’t. Recognizing Snip, I was just about to ask him where they’d gotten the keg when I read the tag on the tap.
Natural Light. I was really going to have to do something about that guy’s beer preferences.
“Iblis!” Snip shrieked. I was instantly mobbed by a dozen Lows who tried to pull my wings, and claw my skin in an affectionate greeting. One of the Lows vomited, thankfully missing me and spraying two of his buddies instead.
I held up my hands, trying to push the crowd back a bit. “Sorry I can’t stay and do keg stands. No, I didn’t bring a beer funnel. Yes, you guys can break into that case of pork rinds in the kitchen.”
Finally they went back to their beer games, leaving me with only a few rips in my clothing and some splatter on my pants leg that I hoped was drool.
“Did you need our assistance, Mistress?” Snip asked. “Are we going to kill more angels? Let the air out of police car tires? Set all the animals loose from the pound?”
I sighed, remembering those antics. Good times. “Sadly, my duties right now are terribly boring. I wouldn’t torture you all by making you sit through meetings with foreign leaders.”
Snip patted my arm with a tentacle. He’d modified his demon form a bit, and I admired the lovely peach shade of the suckers.
“I actually came to Dis to see Gareth. Did he die or something? His shop looks like it’s been shut down for a while.”
“It has been, Mistress,” Snip replied. “He started spending the occasional time across the gates about a year ago, and moved permanently a few months back.”
Of all the humans I’d expected to leave Hel, Gareth hadn’t been one. He was a changeling child, brought to Hel as a baby. He’d spent his whole life being trained by the elves in the magical arts. After fleeing slavery, he’d made quite a good living among the demons. I couldn’t imagine why he’d give that up for a life in a human realm where he didn’t even know any of their languages.
Well, I could imagine, but it still seemed a bit farfetched for him to pull up stakes and move.
“Do you know if Kirby is still around?” He was the one I figured might decide to return to the human realm, although his primary loyalty had always seemed to be with the human settlement in Hel named Libertytown.
“I think so, Mistress. The humans don’t always let me inside the gates of their city, so I’m not sure. I did hear Bleek say she saw him a few weeks back when he was out gathering river stones.”
I thanked Snip and watched my Lows get drunk and puke for a while, just to be polite, then I headed to the human settlement, the home they’d carved out of Hel at the edge of the elven lands.
The last time I’d seen Libertytown it was a stone-walled village with rustic houses and cobblestone streets. A lot had clearly changed in such a short time, because I barely recognized the town before me. The streets were asphalt. The houses were gorgeous structures with solar panels and electric power lines. As I walked through the gates, a delivery truck appeared from nowhere, cruising down the street to halt before a house. A man got out and began hauling grocery sacks full of vegetables and fruits from the truck.
Amber had totally made good on her deal with both me and Kirby as far as food delivery went, but the rest was a huge surprise. I made my way through the town, noting the window air conditioning units, and a Segway parked outside one of the brick homes. People peeked out at me through windows, and suddenly decided they needed to sweep their porches. Kirby’s shop and residence was near the center of town, and by the time I opened the door of the magic shop, I’d acquired quite a group of followers.
A bell on the door rang merrily. A blonde woman looked up with a smile on her face, saw my wings, then called for Kirby.
The mage came out of a back room, a bundle of lavender in his hands.
“Iblis!” He set down the flowers and came to shake my hand—which was a whole lot less painful than the Low’s greeting. “Have you come to check up on us?”
“I actually came to ask Gareth a few questions, but it seems he’s moved?”
Kirby nodded. “He’s living in Florida now.”
Okaaaay. Moving to Florida was definitely what elderly humans seemed to do, but Gareth was a sorcerer and had never stepped foot over the gates since he’d been stolen from his crib.
“Do you know why?”
Kirby’s face turned pink. The dude was a horrible liar. He obviously realized this, and decided to just come out with the truth. He looked up at me and shrugged.
“Remember the business venture to sell magical items to humans? Amulets, and wards, and spells that could be used to protect against demons, angels, shifters, and elves?”
I did remember. “Yeah. Hunter’s been selling them for you off a website.”
“It’s been very successful, and I got the idea that we could do more than just magical home security and personal protection. I went to Gareth with the idea, and he agreed to go into a partnership with me.”
“And this business is based in Florida? Where Gareth is now living?”
He nodded. “Blue Fire. We intended to produce scaled-up magical items for businesses and law enforcement. We figured it would make a bit more money than the personal protection stuff, but the whole thing went crazy when the demons stormed across the gates. I mean crazy. Gareth and I needed an investor who knew more about how finances and contracts work in the human world. We had to hire anyone we could find with magical skills to keep up with demand, including a few elves—and the irony of that doesn’t escape me. It grew overnight. I can’t be there full time with my commitments here, so Gareth took over. He’s learning English, and one of the other mages translates for him.”
“And this business is supplying magical items to humans,” I said, just to confirm. “Items they can use to defend themselves against angels and demons.”
“Yes, but it’s not just weapons,” he protested. “One of our first products was amulets so that elves don’t kill themselves with all the iron around them. Nearly every elf needs one to function in a human world. But yes, it seems security systems and weaponry are going to be our main products.”
“Weaponry like guns?”
He nodded. “We’ve got different options for firearms, wands and amulets, specialized wards and defensive perimeters—that sort of thing.”
“Project Woo-woo,” I mused.
Kirby’s eyebrows shot up. “You know about that?”
“A certain first w
orld leader had some documents clearly visible on his desk. I made a wild guess that you or Gareth have something to do with it.”
“We do. It’s our biggest contract. Military grade stuff. I’m a little nervous about it, but Gareth says he can make it happen.”
I thought back on this afternoon’s conversation at the White House. The money saved on prisons was most likely going for defense spending—to support project Woo-woo. Had the president lied about welcoming demons and providing them with citizenship? Probably not. I could see him wanting to secure the votes, plus he seemed quite enamored of Dar. But the weaponry would be a wise precaution if we demons did what we always did. It would also be useful against angels, and even the shifter population.
All the government needed to do was stoke their constituents’ fear. Powerful supernatural beings were poised to take over. The demons had already seized the western states. There were still a significant number of people who believed those doctored videos of werewolves and bear shifters slaughtering humans. And the angels…suddenly they were everywhere, all powerful, and not the benevolent messengers humans had always assumed they’d be.
I had one more question for Kirby, though.
“Who is your financial backer? The one who is helping you with contracts and that kind of thing?”
“A demon. He’s got money, connections, and clout. We cut a deal where he owns thirty-four percent of the company in exchange for the money we needed and his leverage on government deals.”
I nodded. “And this demon’s name is…?”
Kirby winced. “Dar.”
Chapter 7
No one was home when I returned, and thankfully there were no dying animals in front of my house. I was still stuffed from gorging myself on hamburgers, fries, and rum and cokes earlier in the day, so I took a quick power nap, then decided to keep my promise to Lux and return a few rings.
He’d selected five rings and written down addresses on printouts of Google Maps pictures. There were detailed instructions about where each ring was to go, and a few notes about possible hazards, like barking dogs or squeaky floors.
Two I ruled out because the time of day wasn’t optimal. I didn’t want to show up in the middle of a mall jewelry store during business hours. Same with the bank safety deposit box. I did a quick eenie-meenie-miney-moe with the remaining three and decided I’d take back a diamond solitaire from Phoenix. If I hurried, they’d still be at work, and I’d be in and out before rush hour even started. Thinking I’d try to get the other two rings in before nightfall, I shoved them in my pocket along with Lux’s print outs and notes, and headed out.
Phoenix was hotter than Hel. Literally. The pavement shimmered with the heat. The bottom of my sneakers started to melt as I crossed the street and eyed the house I was about to break into.
It was really pretty, and just what I’d envisioned from Lux’s description. At the edge of a preserve with the blue shadows of mountains in the distance, the house had amazing views. It was a reddish gold adobe with terra cotta tile roofing. I meandered up the driveway toward the three-car garage and what I’d assumed was the front door. It wasn’t. The doorway had an iron gate and led to a central paved courtyard with huge potted plants and citrus trees as well as a southwestern themed fountain. Toward the back was the main door, but a French door off to the side led to what looked to be a bedroom from my view between the slats of the shades.
Inside the house was starkly contemporary with wide open spaces and white everything except for the dark walnut flooring. The living room was open past the second floor and filled with huge picture windows and doors to the loggia and the pool. I looked out back and saw in addition to a pool, they had a sunken spa, and a built-in barbeque grill—all in matching stone.
I wandered around taking in the library, the formal dining room, the theater, the huge kitchen with granite countertops and a butler’s pantry. Everything was white, white, white, and walnut wood. It was a gorgeous house, but I was itching for some color.
The stairs were carpeted—in white, of course—and the balusters were wrought iron. Upstairs, the first bedroom had gray drapes and pillow shams to accent the walnut and white. I checked out the funky mid-century bedside table lights, then the equally monochromatic private bathroom.
Perusing three more bedrooms and a few hallway bathrooms, I finally found the master. The walk-in closets—yes, there were two—had an insane amount of clothing and shoes. The master bath had a spa tub and a shower so big it could have easily hosed off an elephant. All white and walnut, with none of the daring gray of that first bedroom.
It was pretty and I loved the view, but I preferred the other house with the infinity pool. Even if I went to town on this place with some paint, and gaudy upholstery and rugs, it still seemed rather sterile.
Deciding I’d taken long enough on my tour, I headed back downstairs to where Lux had said I was supposed to put the ring. Evidently he’d swiped it from a ring holder beside the kitchen sink. I’m sure the owner had missed it, and would be perplexed to find it back on the holder, but that wasn’t my problem. I’d be long gone by the time they got home, and they’d never suspect an imp had been prowling around their home, criticizing their decorating choices.
I’d just left the bedroom when I heard a noise in the living room below. Shit! Were the owners home early? I froze, listening carefully for another noise. Maybe I could just ditch the ring on a bedside table and get the heck out of here.
There was another sound—a click noise. And it sounded like it came from down the hall. Had I been so busy checking out the ginormous walk in closets that I hadn’t heard the owners coming home and walking up the stairs?
Holding my breath, I turned around, thankful that the upstairs was carpeted. Before I could step back into the bedroom, a figure came around the corner and shot me.
Fucker. I recognized the uniform and knew instantly it was a cop. Lux hadn’t said anything about a security alarm, and I hadn’t seen one when I came in, but that was the only explanation for why a cop would be roaming around this house. And why he’d be shooting me. Unless the owner was a cop and he’d just gotten off work. Or the cop was here robbing the place. Honestly the first was probably the most likely explanation, though.
All this ran through my mind in a split second, along with outrage that I’d been shot without even a warning to put my hands up or something. Was this the way police in Arizona did things?
“On the floor. Hands on your head.”
Oh, now the cop was giving me instructions. After he’d shot me. It was a good thing I was a demon, or I’d have been bleeding all over the white carpet. Actually I should have been bleeding, even as a demon. I looked down to see a blue splat on my shirt, as if I’d been shot by a paintball gun.
“I said on the floor! Hands on your head!” The cop moved closer, still holding the gun in one hand, and reaching for something else with the other. That blue paint better come out in the wash, because I liked this shirt.
“Fuck you,” I told the cop, then teleported out of the house and back home.
Only I didn’t teleport anywhere. I tried again. Nothing happened. That’s when I ran.
Normally I’m pretty damned fast, but for some reason I felt like I was slogging through quicksand as I ran down the stairs. The cop was on me before I reached the front door, shoving me against the wall, then shooting me with her Taser.
The electrodes dug into my skin and I felt a zap of pain. None of my muscles worked anymore and I crashed to the floor. The asshole was sadistic about it, keeping his finger on the button for what felt like a fucking half hour. When he finally let up, I could do nothing but twitch and try to breathe.
Before I knew it I was on my back with my hands cuffed behind me. A second cop had arrived, and he searched me, finding not only the ring I was intending on returning here, but the other two as well as Lux’s notes and the maps.
I was patted down with a thoroughness that would have turned me on if I hadn’t been in
so much pain. Everything hurt. I’d never hurt like this before. Ever. Is this what it felt like to be human? If so, it really fucking sucked. How did humans deal with this on a day-to-day basis? I needed an aspirin. I needed morphine. Fuck, I hurt.
The two cops hauled me up and dragged me out of the house, stuffing me into the back of a police car without any respect or care whatsoever. They didn’t even seatbelt me in, and I think they were getting evil satisfaction in taking every corner as fast as they could just to hear me bounce around the back of the cruiser. Once we’d arrived at the station, they lugged me inside like I was a side of beef, printing me and taking a mug shot.
Then I got seriously searched. We’re talking fingers in cavities searched. Traumatized as I was, I still managed to crack a few jokes about how foreplay would have been nice, or at least some damned lube.
They took all my clothes, my cell phone, and my wallet. I was given a scratchy orange jumpsuit to wear, then was put into a tiny cell with a crude toilet in the corner and a hard metal bench to sit on.
This was not the way arrests went on TV. Weren’t they supposed to put me in an interview room with my own clothes still on? Weren’t they supposed to question me? Get me nasty police station coffee and snacks from the vending machine? Let me have my one phone call? I didn’t even remember them reading me my rights. Had those television shows been completely wrong? Was this how they conducted arrests in Arizona? I’d been hauled in a few times in my life, and never experienced anything like this before.
With This Ring: Imp Series, Book 11 Page 7