by Debra Dunbar
“I’ll give the word to Lliam Thi that we’ve won Aaru. Tell him he needs to make the announcement at noon today, and the angels will support the elven takeover.”
“Think we can trust her?” I muttered to Gregory.
He shrugged. “The worst that happens is she alerts Lliam Thi as to what little she knows of our plans and we have to take him and the other High Elves by force.”
I eyed Breallia. Her human form was a better attempt than most of the angels could manage. She’d pulled her golden curls back into a knot, but frizzy bits had escaped to curl around her forehead and ears. Her skin still had that odd translucent quality, and she glowed a bit, but not enough to require sunglasses just to look at her. And she had her wings, light gray and held tight to her back.
“The rebel angels only care about the elves as a means to take the humans off of our hands so we can remain in Aaru,” Rafi whispered. “Now that Aaru is out of reach for them, they’re less important. Humans, elves, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But staying out of Hel does,” I added.
Gregory sighed. “Yes, staying out of Hel is of the utmost importance to every angel. Which means they’ll be staying here among the humans with the elves.”
“The humans once again are being given far more knowledge then they were supposed to have at this point in their evolution,” Gabriel groused. “Dragons and elves, and now they know about us too.”
Angels everywhere. I’d wondered how the humans would cope with elves living among them, and now I wondered about the angels. No doubt the humans would be dragging them to hospitals everywhere, expecting them to cure everyone. That or they’d be running and screaming that the end-times were upon us. I hoped the latter; that would be much more fun.
Breallia had her final instructions and bowed before vanishing.
Now the hard part began. We needed to get our elves in place to take over for the guards, strategically place angels and elves in the audience on the DC Mall to act as backup.
And then hope that nothing went wrong.
Chapter 31
I’m not quite as good as Leethu, but I can pass as an elf, especially an elf trying to look human. So I went with Lysile and Telly and three others as we snuck onto the mall. Lliam Thi had been holed up in the White House, and we thought it would be too difficult to get inside what with the human and elven security. So instead we chose the stage area.
Lliam Thi approached, flanked by his elven guards, then further flanked by human secret service agents. This wasn’t going to work. We weren’t going to be able to just smack an elven guard on the head out in the open like this. I was rethinking the plan. Even if one of them went to go pee and we took him out, the other guards would be suspicious of the swap. I can hear it now. “Hey, where’s Gwyl? Didn’t he just go off to pee behind those bushes? And who are you?”
Yeah. My hope now was to get us as close to the stage as possible so Lysile could get off a shot.
And…no. Human guards had set a perimeter that would hold the audience twenty feet from the stage.
“How accurate are you with that gun from here?” I asked Lysile.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. This is farther then the targets were. And I’m not very tall compared to the humans. I don’t think I could get a clear shot. I’d end up hitting the human guards instead.”
Damn. Seemed I was going to have to do this one myself. Gregory, Rafi, Gabriel, Dar and Asta were taking the other five locations, so I couldn’t count on them for back up. Once again I wished Uriel was here. And Leethu. And Nils.
Lliam Thi climbed the stairs to the podium. He had on traditional elven clothing, his long flaxen hair loose, the huge points of his ears clearly evident. The audience watched, surprised and confused.
“I’m Lliam Thi,” he announced in heavily accented English. “I’m an elf and I’m the new leader of this country.”
Wow. Get right to the point there. Where were the flowery speeches? Not that it mattered. In spite of his stern tone and the dozens of archers lined up beside him, the audience laughed.
That’s right, laughed.
“I thought the president was going to give a speech,” the guy beside me commented. “Instead we get this community theater reject doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream or something.”
“You suck,” a woman farther up yelled. “Where’s Orlando Bloom? Bring on the real actors.”
“Silence,” the elf roared. Sparks flew from his fingertips and a wind stirred his hair.
“Worst special effects ever,” the guy complained. “My backyard sparklers are better than that.”
“You will obey me,” Lliam Thi snarled.
The crowd surged, some getting ready to leave this “lame-ass play,” others pushing closer to better see the wardrobe and makeup. I hopped up and down, trying to see over the crowd and instead was pushed back farther. Where were Lysile and Telly and the other elves? Had they made it close enough to the stage to take their shot?
They hadn’t, but evidently the elves had. I heard the familiar twang of bowstrings, then screams. The crowd turned into a panicked mob and it was all I could do stay on my feet as everyone tried to get away. They were shooting them. The elven guards were shooting the humans, and I knew as well as anyone that they never carried traditional human-style arrows.
A woman off to the side got hit and pitched forward. The people around her grabbed her arms, trying to haul her along, but those behind her stepped on her legs, pulling her down to the ground where she was most likely trampled in seconds. Not that it mattered. She was dead the moment the arrow hit. That shit was meant to incapacitate demons, to kill elves before they could heal their wounds. The humans didn’t stand a chance.
“You will obey me!” Lliam Thi shouted again. I think under normal circumstances, the crowd would have complied but at this point their only thought was to escape and find cover.
I hopped the little fence beside the Washington Monument, used to help queue visitors, and hugged the side of the stone monolith. People screamed, and pushed and ran. The arrows flew thick, and more and more people fell. Those running tripped on the bodies and went down. I needed to do something. Anything. My teleportation was accurate within a few hundred feet unless I was trying to get to my living room or something. I wasn’t sure that would be close enough.
Fuck it. People were getting shot. That asshole was screaming about how he was in charge now. There was panic.
I teleported. And unfortunately I missed my mark and found myself right in the middle of the press section. The reporters and cameramen weren’t running. They were ducking and diving, trying to get behind the trees and trashcans while still filming. An arrow lodged in my shoulder and I felt the stinging numbness seep through me. Damn it all, now I was mad. I yanked the arrow out and teleported again, this time appearing a few feet behind Lliam Thi.
The element of surprise lasted all of two seconds. I jumped on the High Elf. The microphone made a horrible feedback shriek as it toppled into the row of guards below. The elves next to us grabbed me, yanking at my clothing and stabbing me repeatedly.
This had turned into such a clusterfuck. Elves were still shooting humans. Humans were panicking and trampling each other. And my numb arm meant I couldn’t quite rip Lliam Thi’s head off. I was low on energy from my explosion up in Aaru. My Iblis sword was MIA. It was all I could do to hold on to the elf and try to keep myself from bleeding out.
“Sam!”
I felt a scorching heat, hotter than any normal fire. Now the elves were screaming. Fuck, I was screaming too. More fire. I hunkered down on top of Lliam Thi, which was much easier now that he was trying to use me as a demon-shield.
And then he was gone. I smacked the dirt where the elf had once been, extinguished the parts of me that were still actively burning, and looked up.
Little Red. With Nyalla straddling his back like that blond Game of Thrones chick. She even had a small round shield, and what looked like my favorite kitchen knife.<
br />
With an agile leap, she was off the dragon and onto the ground, running toward me. Little Red shot a few quick burst of fire at fleeing elves, then leapt after them, snatching them up and wolfing them down like the tasty morsels they were.
Damn. Had I forgotten to feed him again? Well at least this was better than the neighbor’s cows.
“Sam!” Nyalla shouted, brandishing the knife at an elf, then whacking him in the head with her shield.
Wait. It wasn’t a shield. It was a plastic saucer sled. Say what you will, but the girl was resourceful.
“Get down. The arrows,” I yelled. I wasn’t sure how effective a plastic saucer sled would be against the elven projectiles. Little Red was doing a great job at munching and burning elves, but there were still a few shooting—well, running and shooting.
“Lliam Thi. He went that way.”
I looked and saw the bastard, hindered by the panicked mob of humans and elves. He was forcing his way through them, Little Red bore down on him, smoke curling from the dragon’s nostrils. People scattered before him, giving the dragon a clear path to the elf. He drew back his head in a move I’d come to recognize as preparatory to a fire launch. Lliam Thi turned, his eyes widening, his hand coming up. Both shot at the same time—the dragon a flame and the elf a fireball. They met in the middle, but where an old dragon like Sparky could have out-fired this elf, Little Red was still a baby. The fireball enveloped the flame and smacked the dragon in the face. He yelped. And ran.
“Stay down,” I told Nyalla and teleported once more, appearing right in front of Lliam Thi. I got in one punch that barely rocked his head before he stabbed me.
This knife was magicked. And now the numbness wasn’t only in my arm. It spread through my midsection down my legs making me collapse on the ground.
The elf kicked me in the face. “You and the stupid humans ruined my speech, but no matter. I’m still in control here. And the other High Lords have taken five other countries. I have the backing of the angels, and there’s nothing you or the humans can do to stop me.”
“I’ll stop you, you piece of durft dung”
I heard a gunshot and the top of Lliam Thi’s head blew off, spraying me with blood and brain matter. He collapsed to the side and through the haze of gore I saw Lysile, her pistol shaking slightly as she looked down at the High Lord.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
I struggled to pull myself upright with the one functioning arm. Fucking stupid elven weapons. I’d be numb for hours.
“Yep. You blew his brains out. Nice job. If you ever decide to give up basket weaving, I think the humans might have a job for you in law enforcement, or possibly the military.”
Her face crumpled and she dropped the gun, spinning around to vomit in the grass. Okay, maybe she better stick to basket weaving.
Chapter 32
I was laying on the couch because I hadn’t quite gotten over the elven poison yet. Gregory was teasing me mercilessly about my inability to shrug it off. Seems the other angels wouldn’t have even been affected by the elven weapons. Since they all had several billion years on me, I wasn’t too bothered.
“Sex is gonna have to wait until I can feel my legs again. Well, at least until I can feel certain key body parts again.”
“And probably until our guests leave,” Gregory drawled.
I didn’t care if we had an audience, but I knew he did. Nyalla was out celebrating with friends, but Raphael, Gabriel, the other elves, Little Red and Boomer were all in my house, packed in like sardines—well if sardines drank coffee. My poor little coffee maker was working overtime because everyone had a mug of the stuff.
Gabriel still wasn’t drinking his.
All the High Lords had been either killed or surrendered. Elf Island penitentiary/orientation facility was in full swing. The only elves who would continue to remain at large were the ones in Iceland and the ones in my living room—and they all knew that the angels would be watching their every move.
Not that the elves in my living room were much of a threat. They were being exempted from Elf Island, and would be parsed out individually to homes among the humans and werewolves like a bunch of exchange students to learn English and American customs. A few of them were proud that they’d already managed to obtain employment—hotel housekeeping and fast food. The biggest issue facing them was avoiding the metals that would burn their skin. Luckily so much was plastic nowadays that they should be okay. And Telly had found that leather gloves allowed them to briefly be able to touch steel. Other than that it was plastic forks and knives for them.
Little Red had earned a place with me for as long as he wanted, although he was making noises about missing his home. Five months and he’d have the opportunity to go back with Sparky. Or stay another year if he wished. The neighbors would have to deal with his presence, just like humans were dealing with the dragon at the British Museum, the elves in Iceland, and the presence of angels.
The angels. The exile had taken all the fire out of the rebels’ initiatives, and now they were just trying to survive—and avoid the archangels who would stuff them through the gates to Hel if they were caught. Gregory’s angels…none of them realized the extent of what had happened. Outside of the archangels, none knew that they too were exiled, and that Aaru would be forever out of reach for them. I wasn’t sure what would happen once they found out. And they would find out soon. Now they assumed they were just chasing down the rebels and cleaning up the aftermath of the war. But in a few months shit was going to hit the fan.
But for now, all was good. My beloved wasn’t dead, and although he might be exiled, he didn’t have to deal with losing a war and having the rebels in charge of Aaru. And he was with me—which is where we both should be. Together.
And did my foot just move? I wiggled my toes and smiled.
“Hey asshole?”
Gregory turned toward me and tugged a lock of my hair. “Yes, Cockroach?”
“Let’s go have sex.”
***
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About the Author
After majoring in English with a concentration in Medieval Literature and Folklore studies, Debra promptly sold out to the corporate world. By day, she designs compensation programs, after dark she feverishly writes her novels.
Debra lives in a little house in the woods of Maryland with her sons and a slobbery bloodhound. On a good day, she jogs and horseback rides, hopefully managing to keep the horse between herself and the ground. Her only known super power is 'Identify Roadkill'.
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Other Books by Debra Dunbar
The Imp Series
A DEMON BOUND (Book 1)
SATAN'S SWORD (Book 2)
ELVEN BLOOD (Book 3)
DEVIL’S PAW (Book 4)
IMP FORSAKEN (Book 5)
ANGEL OF CHAOS (Book 6)
IMP (Imp Series, prequel novella)
KINGDOM OF LIES (Book 7)
EXODUS (Book 8)
Books in the Imp World
NO MAN’S LAND
STOLEN SOULS
THREE WISHES
Half-Breed Series.
DEMONS OF DESIRE (Book 1)
SINS OF THE FLESH (Book 2)
UNHOLY PLEASURES (Book 3) Spring 2017 Release
Templar Series
DEAD RISING
LAST BREATH
BARE BONES
FAMINE’S FEAST Winter, 2016 Release