Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) (11 page)

“Agreed.” Sleepy and Sneezy chimed in.

Happy glanced at a disengaged Gregory and grimaced. “Forty–eight hours it is.”

Well, two out of four wasn’t bad. I had two reports to write, and now that I’d had time to witness the convoluted internal politics of the Ruling Council, I could better make shit up that would get them off my case.

The angels vanished, leaving me with Gregory. I watched him for a second and wondered whether I should call for a taxi. What was he doing? He’d paid no attention to the majority of the meeting. What was so important that he’d check out in that fashion?

As if sensing my thoughts, his black eyes turned to me, the grim look on his face deepening into a scowl.

“Are you going to take me home?” I was uncertain what his expression meant. He’d been downright suggestive when we’d discussed my appeal. What happened?

Getting to his feet, the angel walked around the long conference table and, without a word, gathered me to his chest. He held me there, tight against him with his chin on the top of my head for a heartbeat before transporting us to my house. Once in my living room, he released me and paced the floor.

“Do you want…”

“An angel is dead,” he interrupted.

I stared in disbelief, at a loss for words.

“Dead.”

I wasn’t sure what the appropriate sentiments were to express condolences to an angel, so I just repeated what I’d heard humans say over the decades. “I’m so very sorry for your loss. Was he a close friend? You must be devastated.”

“I told you not to do it anymore, not to
ever
do it again. Are you so far gone that you can no longer control yourself?”

What did I do? Was he still talking about his dead buddy, or about something else? He was pacing the floor in a controlled rage, the tension in his voice conveying a worry and grief equal to his anger.

“Is this about Gabriel storming out?” I asked tentatively. “Because I think he was more pissed off at Bashful than at me.”

Gregory grabbed me by my shoulders before I even saw him move, pressing me against the door, high enough off the ground that my feet dangled in the air.

“You killed an angel. An
angel!
Of all the careless, reckless, suicidal actions. Do you know what this means? What will happen?”

What the fuck was he talking about? I’d been in a Ruling Council meeting all day. Had Dopey stroked out in the lobby of the Marriott or something?

“I haven’t killed an angel. Ever. I swear on all the souls I Own that I have never killed an angel.”

Gregory’s eyes searched mine.

“I swear. You were with me yesterday, then I was with humans and Candy the rest of the time…” my voice trailed off as I realized I’d been alone last night. All alone in my house with no alibi.

The angel kept a tight grip on my shoulders, but eased me down to stand on the floor. “An angel was murdered last night. Drained. Empty. There is nothing left but the corporeal form he’d inhabited.”

I caught my breath. An angel had been killed in the same manner as the demons. A devouring spirit, and Gregory clearly suspected me.

“I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill those demons, and I have never,
ever,
killed an angel.”

Gregory’s hands tightened on my upper arms, digging painfully into the flesh. “You said yesterday you were chased by an angel, and today one is found dead. If he attacked you again and you defended yourself the only way you could, tell me. I’ll try to help you if you tell me the truth.”

I recognized the seriousness of the situation. “I am telling the truth. Maybe someone is trying to set me up. Twenty demons heard me announce I was a devouring spirit and I’m sure that juicy gossip spread all over Hel.”

He frowned, considering my words. “Too convoluted. If someone wanted you dead, it would be easier just to kill you.”

“But what if another angel wanted me dead? I’d like to think you’d have a bit of a problem with that, but if I were convicted of murdering an angel, there would be nothing you could do to protect me.”

Gregory shook his head. “Angels don’t have the ability to devour. If you didn’t do it, there has to be another devouring spirit on the loose.”

“It wasn’t me. Please believe me. It wasn’t me.”

We remained motionless for what seemed an eternity, his fingers tight on my arms, his eyes boring into mine. Suddenly he yanked me to his chest, crushing me tight.

“We’ll find this other demon. But you can tell no one. You must never again devour, and do not tell anyone that you ever have.”

There was a noise behind us. We broke apart and whirled around to see Nyalla halfway down the stairs, her hair wet from the shower, her body hidden under my too–large clothing. She had that terrified look on her face again — the one Wyatt and I had worked for the last two days to try to erase.

“I didn’t mean to listen. I don’t understand much of your language. I won’t repeat anything, I swear by the Goddess.” Nyalla’s voice was barely a whisper, her eyes huge as they darted back and forth between me and the angel.

“Who are you?” Gregory thundered.

Elvish. She’d spoken in Elvish. I doubted Gregory had heard that language in over two million years. Regardless, I wasn’t going to let him frighten Wyatt’s sister to death, especially with all the progress we’d made.

“Stop it!” I smacked him as hard as I could across the arm, making sure I spoke in Elvish. I’m sure he barely felt it, but I didn’t want to further scare Nyalla by throwing demon energy around my living room. “You’re going to give the girl a heart attack. Calm the fuck down and be nice for once in your life.”

Nyalla’s mouth dropped open at my words, shock erasing some of her fear. “It’s all right. He’s an angel. He won’t hurt you.”

“Who are you?” Gregory asked again, in a well–modulated tone. “And how do you know Elvish? Your accent is perfect.”

Nyalla stayed rooted on the stairs, her eyes anxious as she stared at the angel. “I’ve lived with the elves my whole life. They took me from my crib when I was a baby, kidnapped me.”

The angel frowned, causing Nyalla to cringe. “Elves don’t cross through the gates and they don’t kidnap humans.”

I blew out an exasperated breath. “How the fuck do you think they get humans to train in magic? You know about the sorcerers, know where they get their magical knowledge. Do you think the elves send audio courses over or something? They fucking kidnap humans.”

Gregory turned his scowl toward me. “The humans have had the ability to open communication portals for millennia. Many humans skilled in magic gain their knowledge from the elves that way, and also by summoning demons.”

I threw up my hands. “You think she’s lying? She’s spent her life with the elves. She can tell you what a bunch of douchebags they are.”

“Perhaps demons have been kidnapping humans and taking them through the gates — either angel gates or the ones they create themselves, but elves are not doing this.”

He was an idiot. “Elves
are
doing this! If a demon had kidnapped her, she wouldn’t have lived long enough to make it through a gate. She’s been raised with elves, lived her life with elves — not demons!”

The angel turned his back to me. “Well then, I guess we owe the elves a debt of gratitude for rescuing this child from the clutches of the demons.”

Elves didn’t rescue Nyalla, I did. Me. An imp, a demon. Me.

Gregory walked over to Nyalla as she stood rooted to the stairs. Her face paled at his approach. “I promise. I promise I won’t say anything. You can remove my tongue if you want, wipe the last few hours of my mind, anything. Just please don’t kill me. Please, please don’t kill me.”

Gregory stopped, his eyes widening. “Child, I have no intention of killing you. I’m an angel.”

I snorted. Ah yes, the good guys. Riding in on a white horse to save the day.

Nyalla winced as his hand came toward her. “Don’t you dare hurt her,” I ordered.

Instead, the angel caressed her cheek and spoke a soft word. A glow lit the right side of her face before fading away. Again he spoke to her in whispered words too quiet for me to hear. She nodded then flashed me a quick smile before dashing back up the stairs.

“What did you do?” I demanded as Gregory turned around. “I swear on every being I Own that if you hurt her in any way, wiped her mind or rendered her mute, or anything, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The angel’s lips twitched up in a wry smile as he took my arm and led me into the kitchen. “I did no harm to your new human, little Cockroach.”

I watched him with suspicion as he positioned me by the stove and set about putting on a pot of coffee. He’d gotten quite good at this.

“Now,” he said, once the smell of warm coffee filled the air, “we need to find this devouring spirit as quickly as possible. Your life depends on it.”

I nodded. “Can you bring me the body of the angel? Maybe I can find something, some kind of clue if I scan it.”

He shook his head, pulling a mug out of the cabinet and setting it before me. It said “World’s Best Dad” on the side in faded red letters. Angelo had given it to me filled with jellybeans as an Easter gift, and I treasured it.

“It will raise suspicion. I’ll try to bring you any other demon corpses that we find, but there’s no way you’ll be able to see the angel’s body without putting your own life in jeopardy.”

“Where was the angel’s body found?” I wondered if it
was
the angel who’d been chasing me. I didn’t think there were many of them flitting around the Frederick County area.

“Northern Mexico. Parral.”

That wasn’t exactly a stone’s throw away. “Was he one of yours? An enforcer? A Grigori?”

“No.” The angel slid the coffee pot from the burner and filled my cup. “He had no business being down here that I’m aware of. We’re questioning his choir to find out what the purpose of his trip was, who he intended to meet, and why he didn’t follow proper protocol in leaving Aaru.”

I wasn’t sure his reasons for walking the earth had any relationship with his death. Mexico. Demons aren’t much for cleaning up their messes, so if his body was found in Mexico, that’s where he was killed.

“Were the drained demons found in Mexico also?” I asked, sipping my coffee. It was always better when he made it.

“No. One in Damascus, one in Burlington, and one in New York City.”

“Damascus? All the way in Syria?” Damn, that was a big geographic area. Demon’s tended to stay on the continent where they came into from Hel. We didn’t remain long enough for extended travel. If this devouring demon was jet–setting across the world, we’d have an even more difficult time tracking him down.

“Damascus, Maryland. Not Syria.”

Ah, that made more sense. I could envision the line in my head. Vermont, New York, Maryland. Wait. Fuck. Damascus, Maryland? That was practically in my back yard.

“Was the first one Burlington?” The angel nodded. “Then he’d be close. The next should be down as far south as Danville or Raleigh.” I calculated the distances, just to be sure.

Gregory lifted the coffee pot in an offer to top–up my cup. “So, we should begin looking for a swath of destruction, some evidence of erratic demon activity in a two–hundred–and–fifty to three–hundred mile radius south of here?”

“Yes.” I held my cup out for a refill. “I’ll ask Wyatt if he’ll help. He may not, though.”

Wyatt was refusing my requests lately unless I could show some positive charitable intent. I doubted dead demons and a dead angel would tug on his heartstrings enough to convince him to help. He might be swayed if I told him I would be blamed for the murders. Or not. And he was pretty busy with Amber and Nyalla right now.

“How much time elapsed between the demon deaths?” I wondered if he’d been making these kills all in one trip, or darting back and forth across a gate. Multiple trips would be risky, especially if he was using the same portal, but then again, so was any extended time here. I should know.

“I brought you the first in January. The second was found in May, and the latest, three days ago.”

Could be multiple trips, but that close together led me to believe he’d been here the whole time.

“Why didn’t you bring me the one you found in May? I only saw two.”

His face settled into that bland, inscrutable expression. “I don’t trust the one who found that body. I didn’t want him to know that I was taking them to you, or that I suspected there was foul play.”

He’d been covering it up for some reason. At that time he hadn’t known the killer was a devouring spirit, hadn’t known I was a devouring spirit. He couldn’t have been protecting me — there was some other reason he’d not wanted anyone to know his suspicions, or that he was using my special expertise.

“One of your Grigori found it?” I asked. “You don’t trust one of your own people? Aren’t all the Grigori in your household?”

“Choir,” he corrected. “No. Grigori are made up of selected angels across all choirs. They serve for a limited time then another takes their place. I’m the only constant.”

“You don’t trust one of your own Grigori?” I repeated.

His expression darkened. “No.”

I sucked down the rest of my coffee with a long gulp. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

His eyes, full of worry, met mine, and warmth spread through my chest. “That’s a matter internal to Aaru. A matter very personal to me. It’s best that you not know anything about it, that you not be involved in any way — for your own safety, little Cockroach.”

He was worried about me, worried about my safety. He was protecting me.

“I protect you far more than you know, little Cockroach.” His words were a caress. Our eyes met for a long moment until I broke our gaze to take a drink of my coffee. The cup was empty.

“Good?” he asked, indicating the mug.

“Always.” I smiled, feeling rather unsettled at the intimacy of the moment and wanting to return to a lighter, more casual exchange. “If this Grigori thing doesn’t work out, you could have a great career as a barista. I’ll pick up some applications at Starbucks next time I’m there.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you have such a high estimation of my abilities as head Grigori. It’s nice to be appreciated.”