Queen of the Damned (Imp Series Book 9)

by Debra Dunbar

  The planning meeting consisted of ten Ancients in a huge conference room that was giving me Ruling Council meeting flashbacks. All it needed was a pot of old coffee and a plate of stale pastries, and the image would have been complete. The main difference was that this meeting only held one angel—Bencul.

  He was right by Remiel’s side, on display. The other Ancients pointedly ignored him, occasionally sliding an envious side-eye to his master. The few demons in the room made no such attempt at nonchalance. They openly gawked. I’m sure they would have poked the angel if the Ancient he was sitting next to wasn’t so damned intimidating.

  Remiel was as phallic as could be, bare-chested and red-skinned with his bull head and long, shining, curved horns. He was seated, but I couldn’t help but drop my pencil and dive under the table for a peek while pretending to look for it.

  Yep. Really big set of genitals and no pants whatsoever. I wasn’t surprised.

  “I called you all here because I am now leading the army to retake Aaru and our timeline has been considerably expedited.”

  Oops. The meeting had come to order. Guess I better get out from under the table, and try to look all Iblis-like.

  Just as I was scrambling back into my chair, I heard the others murmuring in dissent.

  “What about Asmodiel?” One of the Ancients asked. All eyes turned to Asmodiel, who was dripping all over his end of the table.

  “I have stepped aside in favor of Remiel.” The Ancient inclined his head. “He is the key to entering Aaru. His receiving forgiveness broke the banishment for us all. He clearly should be the one to lead the army and be the first through the gates of heaven.”

  Wait, what?

  “Just because Bencul broke the banishment for Remiel, doesn’t mean the rest of you can get in,” I protested, shooting the angel a narrowed glance. “He forgave one Ancient, not all of you.”

  “He did forgive us all,” Remiel announced, spreading his hands as if he were some savior handing out loaves and fishes.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” I argued. But did it? Gregory had said there were loopholes. I’d thought those loopholes were what got my little demon army into Aaru, but maybe there were more. Maybe Bencul loving and forgiving one Ancient caused some kind of domino effect.

  “It does work that way.” Doriel stood, casting me a nod of recognition before turning to Remiel. “I felt the banishment fall. We all felt it fall. We are free to return to Aaru, and all thanks to Remiel.”

  More like thanks to Bencul. Traitor. I glared at the angel once more.

  “I assume each of you has assembled your legions with their commanders?” Remiel asked. Each Ancient replied in the affirmative. “Good. We will meet in front of my house tomorrow morning to make our attack. We will fill the streets of Dis with our armies, clad in ceremonial armor that will strike fear into the hearts of the angels.”

  I snorted, quickly turning the noise into a cough. There were no angels. And even if there were, I couldn’t see Gregory and his brothers fleeing in terror because a bunch of Ancients showed up with fancy-dancy armor. Maybe the armor was really ugly with glitter and sequins. That would be enough to send me running.

  Remiel went on and on about the plan of attack, unrolling a map and putting little figures on it to indicate positions that the various legions should take. I napped a little, then woke up as the Ancients started to stand. From the murmured conversation, it sounded as if we were breaking for lunch.

  Good. I was starved. Hopefully Remiel had more on the buffet spread than bitey fish jerky. I followed the herd of Ancients to where I was sure to find food, only to see something far more interesting. Bencul. Slipping off on his own down a hallway. I doubted the angel was sneaking out for a quick smoke, so I followed him and found him alone in a room, staring out a window to the streets of Dis seven stories below.

  For someone who wasn’t more than an elevated slave, the angel seemed somewhat smug as he looked down at the world. Asshole. He’d sold out his own angels, and for what? He’d sealed his fate with this one act. There was no going home for him now. Even if he ever got out of Hel, the other Angels of Order would never reinstate a traitor, no matter how much he pleaded repentance. He might be returning to Aaru by granting Remiel forgiveness and breaking the banishment, but he’d never be home.

  “You seem pretty satisfied with yourself.”

  He spun around at my words, and although there was hate in his eyes, there was also glee. “I am. More than you would ever know.”

  “You’re a traitor.”

  He shrugged. “Am I? I really don’t care, you know.”

  What a complete, unrepentant asshole. “How can you do that? Your friends and family up in Aaru, how can you do this to them? You might truly love Remiel and you might think that the Ancients should be able to return home, but not like this. Not starting a war all over again.”

  Bencul flinched and I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. “It’s not like any of them came for me. When you tossed me through the gates, did any of them bother to try to rescue me?”

  “They can’t come to Hel. They’re not allowed to under the treaty.” I saw how lame an excuse that was, but he was an Angel of Order after all. “Would you have broken the treaty and risked being torn apart at the claws of demons to come look for someone that was probably already dead? And outside of one or two angels, none of them knew what happened to you. They probably still don’t. It’s not that they didn’t want to find you, they just didn’t know where to look.”

  That flicker of regret in his eyes lingered a moment longer than before. “One or two angels knew. So basically the Ruling Council knew. They knew that you threw an Angel of Order across the gates, to his death in Hel. Were you even punished for that?” He waved a dismissive hand. “Of course not. They don’t care about me, so why should I care about them? There’s only one being in this world I truly love. One. The rest I would gladly sacrifice for him. The Ancients can have Aaru. At least this way I’ll be able to go home.”

  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You knew you could never escape Hel. This was your way out. You might be Remiel’s plaything for the rest of your life, but at least it will be in Aaru and not here.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I love Remiel. At first…it was just survival. But he’s given me everything I could ever want. Everything.”

  Everything? An Ancient’s most favored play toy? Returning to Aaru as little more than a powerful Ancient’s slave? How was that everything? What had broken in Bencul’s head that these things were more important than keeping peace, than not losing even more friends and family to war? Although Bencul had always been broken. That business with Harper had shown me the twisted angel he truly was.

  Harper. There was a time when “everything” had been defined very differently for Bencul. I dug my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the photos, showing pictures of Austin to him.

  “He’s getting big,” I told the angel, swiping to the next picture. “Look how clever he is, altering his form to reach those cookies on the table. Harper calls him Austin. Did you have a name picked out for him?”

  He stared at the images as if I were showing him pics from my last vacation and not shots of his Nephilim son. “Doesn’t matter,” he told me, his voice flat and uninterested.

  Harper was going to fucking kill me for this one. “You can see him. Stop this madness, and I’ll arrange for visitation. I’ll get you out of Hel, and somewhere you can see your son.”

  Bencul shook his head. “She can have him. I don’t want him anymore. Everything I want is here in Hel, and soon to be in Aaru.”

  Damn it. I put the phone away, realizing that if the chance to be with his son didn’t budge Bencul, nothing would.

  The Ancients were going to take Aaru. Tomorrow. And there was nothing I could do about it. Well, nothing beyond warn Gregory and hope he forgave me for putting this in motion, for allowing this to happen.

  Chapter 23

  “Do
you think he can get in?” I paced back and forth in my kitchen while Snip and Gimlet watched me. I’d let them know everything—my banishment of the angels, my throwing Bencul through the gate into Hel, my inability to convince the Ancients to hold off on this invasion.

  “Think who can get in?” Nyallla bounced into the kitchen in her underwear, the T-shirt she was wearing barely covering her ass. My two Lows immediately swiveled their heads to stare at the hem of the shirt, willing it to somehow rise a few additional inches.

  “Remiel. He’s an Ancient. And he wants to take over Aaru.” I knew I could confide in Nyalla. She was like my daughter. I trusted her one hundred percent.

  She eyed Snip and Gimlet.

  “They know,” I assured her. “I told them everything.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Then how is this Remiel a problem? You guys are all locked out. And aren’t demons banished? Even if you hadn’t emptied Aaru and locked the keys inside, he wouldn’t be able to get in.”

  I explained the situation, amused that Snip and Gimlet were still intently focused on Nyalla’s shirt hem.

  “Bencul. I thought he was dead.” Nyalla bit her lip. “Harper isn’t going to be happy. She’s always been worried that he’ll somehow come back and snatch Austin away from her.”

  I was sure that was really far down on the angel’s list. That look on his face when I’d shown him the pictures… I got the idea he really didn’t care one bit what happened to his Nephilim son or his mother.

  “Bencul is alive, but he’s also attached at the hip, and probably other body parts, to an Ancient demon. He’s not going anywhere. Except maybe Aaru, and I’m hoping to prevent that.”

  “I’m still going to warn her. And Jaq.” Nyalla pulled a bag of chips out of the cabinet. Snip made a squeal noise as her upstretched arms revealed the lower half of her ass. I whacked the Low on the head with a spatula, and frowned.

  “Ideas? Come on guys. Should I just ignore Remiel and hope my banishment keeps him out? Should I fold my household under his, just in case he gets into Aaru so I can try to sneak through under his wing? Should I suicidality insist that he’s not leaving Hel and make a stand?”

  Nyalla ripped open the bag of chips. “I think you should talk to Gregory.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Snip said. “And he can go to Hel and kill this Remiel for you. And Bencul. And the other demon who is taking all the Lows. He could rule Hel. He’s a total badass. No one would stand against him.”

  “Et tu, Snip?”

  “Sam, you’re just as powerful as Gregory, but in a different way. He’s the type that goes in swinging his sword and forces everyone to bend to his will. You’re the type where people think they’re doing what they want only to have an anvil drop on their head. You don’t rule by force, you rule by fate, by sneaky stealthy crazy chicken-wand stuff.” Nyalla pointed the bag of chips at me. “Talk to him. Brainstorm ideas. Then do what you do best.”

  Gimlet snatched the bag from Nyalla. “Let Remiel take Aaru. Nobody else wants that shithole besides the angels and the Ancients.”

  “Hey, I’m in love with one of those angels, and he wouldn’t want Remiel and a bunch of demons trashing his home.”

  “Talk to him,” Nyalla insisted. “I’m not saying you should expect him to solve this problem. You’re the Queen of Hel, it’s up to you to take care of Remiel and bring him in line. I just think that Gregory’s knowledge might help you decide what to do. He’s really old, and smart, and powerful. And he loves you.” Nyalla reached out to grip my arm. “I know you’re worried he’ll never forgive you if the Ancients take Aaru, but he knows in his heart that you did what you did out of love for him, and that your love doesn’t always manifest the same way that his does.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “All right, all right. I’m texting him now.”

  “And I’m outta here,” Gimlet announced, heading toward the door with the bag of chips in his hand. “If archangels are gonna be showing up, then I’m not going to be around to see it. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the guest house.”

  Everyone took off. I started a pot of coffee, and got out the vodka. I was just pouring milk and sugar into Gregory’s cup when the angel arrived. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back against him. I held there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of his heat against me, the secure feeling of having him surrounding me, of having his spirit-self against my own.

  “Vodka?” He chuckled. “If that’s for you, then it’s business as usual. If it’s for me, then I’m worried.”

  I sighed and tried to pull away from him to grab the coffee. “It’s for me, and maybe for you. I need you to talk me off the ledge here.”

  “Don’t jump.” He nuzzled my ear, then reached around me to grab the vodka. “Or if you jump, make sure you have your wings out first.”

  “Remember that angel I threw into Hel?”

  “Yes. You almost got a death sentence for that one. Nyalla and Harper netted him and had him down in Wyatt’s basement, as I recall.”

  “No, that was your angel, the Hunter who was trying to kill Harper and the baby. He’s still serving me and doing shit jobs in my stables with Nils. No, this was Bencul, the father of Harper’s Nephilim. He showed up and tried to take her away and the girls and I restrained him. Then I threw him through the gateway to Hel.”

  “And Beatrix was elsewhere when this was going on?” He asked. “Because I don’t recall receiving a report from her on this.”

  “Ummm, I’m sure you misplaced it. It’s probably in a stack of paperwork somewhere that you haven’t got to yet.” I didn’t exactly want to get my favorite gate guardian in trouble.

  “There were rumors of you tossing an angel into Hel, but that was during the time when you had killed a few as well. I get them all mixed up, Cockroach.”

  “Well, anyway, his name is Bencul. I think he might have been one of Gabe’s. He was a giant dick, and needed to be punished. And since the Fallen are mine, and the Nephilim are mine, and I assume that an angel creating a Nephilim is mine, I took it upon myself to punish him.”

  “So you threw him into Hel?” Gregory unscrewed the vodka and poured a generous helping into his coffee.

  “Yeah. I threw him into Hel.”

  “Where he was promptly killed,” Gregory surmised. “I’m assuming this somehow came to Gabriel’s notice, and he’s once again ready to string you up? You’re going to ask me to intervene?”

  I squirmed. “No. And no.”

  “No, you don’t want me to intervene?”

  “And no, he’s not dead.” I let that sink in for a moment. “He got roughed up by some demons, but got grabbed and gifted to an Ancient. He’s…uh, still with that Ancient.”

  Gregory took a big gulp of the coffee. “Go on.”

  “There’s this weird relationship that’s developed between them. I’m talking twisted here. But weird as it is, it seems to fit into some definition of love. And because the Ancient fell in love with an Angel of Order, he’s sort of repented. And because Dickhead Bencul fell in love with the Ancient, he forgave him. And they are convinced that this negates the banishment.”

  I held my breath and watched Gregory hopefully. If he started laughing and declared that ridiculous, I’d be so relieved. He didn’t laugh. Instead he drained his vodka-coffee.

  Fuck.

  “There’s a good chance he’s right. I told you about my error. Well, this is exactly the sort of thing I didn’t account for.”

  I stared at the vodka, wishing it were something stronger. Maybe I needed to start mainlining Everclear or something. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I threw that angel into Hel. It’s my fault.”

  He shook his head. “You delivered a very severe punishment—a fitting punishment from the hand of the Iblis to an angel who wronged those you had sworn to protect. How were you to know one of the banished would fall in love with him and that it would be reciprocated? And the loophole in the banishment is my fault, not yours, Cockroach. T
his is my fault.”

  “But they will find Aaru empty! There won’t be any resistance. They’ll just swarm in and take it, and there will be nothing you all can do,” I protested.

  He reached out a finger and put it gently against my lips. “My fault as well. I brought you and your demons to Aaru to help me fight. I told you what I was going to do to banish the rebels. You were protecting me, trying to save me. And as angry as I was with you, I know I would have done the same for you.”

  “You’re cut off from the source,” I mumbled against his finger. “All of you. You’re banished. You told me the sort of pain and eventual death you doomed the Angels of Chaos to with your banishment, well I’ve done the same to you. I’ve seen those Ancients. I’ve seen what two-and-a-half-million years away from Aaru has done to them. I don’t want that for you or your siblings. I don’t want that for any of you.”

  He turned me all the way toward him and pulled me into his arms again. “We’ll find a way to get us back in. Together, we’ll fix this and it won’t take us millions of years to do it. And when we do, we’ll fight for our rightful place in Aaru. We may need to divide it. We may need to compromise significantly on how we rule and what our vision will be for our homeland, but somehow it will all work out.”

  “I don’t want you to have to fight them again,” I told him. “I want Infernal Mates, and for angels to take the sticks out of their asses and learn to embrace something different than themselves. I don’t want a war in the heavens because the Ancients won’t give up on their desire for vengeance, and the angels won’t share.”

  His spirit-self brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my spine. “What do you think will happen when the Ancients take Aaru?”

  “They’ll party. They’ll probably trash the place.” I thought for a second. “The demons who made up their army will go back to Hel, or try to come here because they’ll hate it in Aaru just as much as I do.”