Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (28 page)

22

I’
d kicked Leethu’s harem out the moment I walked through the door, threatening them with evisceration if they weren’t gone by the time I counted to ten. I never saw humans move so fast. Leethu went to protest, but the words died on her lips when she saw my face. I locked my bedroom door and spent the entire sleepless night curled in a ball on my bed, missing arms and legs around me. Missing the feel of a heartbeat against my cheek, the tickle of warm breath in my hair. Around three in the morning, I just couldn’t’ take it anymore. I got up, made a pot of coffee and snuck down the road toward Wyatt’s. Boomer had wrapped up his nightly excursions early and trailed after me. The hellhound was perplexed by the barrier around the house and kept bumping against it in an effort to get in. I just sat on the perimeter and stared at the house.

In the living room, pale blue light flashed out the window. Wyatt was awake and playing his video games. I felt better, knowing he was sleepless too. I wished I could go in, tell him I loved him, comfort him, but I knew that given what he’d walked in on in the barn, my presence wouldn’t be welcome right now. The cold frost melted under my rear, soaking my jeans. I sat until sunrise. Finally, when the morning light obscured the flashes from the video game, I got up and stiffly made my way home to do the barn chores.

Wyatt must have come over earlier in the night and brought the horses in. I turned them out and mucked the stalls, filling them with fresh shavings and adding a flake of hay and clean water to each. Diablo’s stall sat empty, and it added to the horrible sorrow eating through me. Gregory was right, the elves cherished horses and he’d come to no harm with them, but he’d be a prisoner, locked down and forced to comply as a regular horse. I needed to get him back, although once Haagenti was through with me, he’d be without a master. Maybe he was better off with the elves.

What I really needed to do was put the self–pity aside and get to work. I forced myself back into the house and sat my still damp butt down at my dining room table to pursue Wyatt’s short–list—the list of babies who had died within the timeframe and area. Fifty–eight babies. Wyatt had listed the city and state of each, so I quickly identified three babies that might possibly have been close enough to have been buried in Mount Olivet. I sincerely hoped it was one of the babies on the list. I’d call the cemetery when they opened, and check out all three names. Everything was closing down on my head so fast, that I really needed this to go smoothly. If I had to search the entire cemetery for a hybrid infant, I’d run out of time. That done, I called Dar.

“Mal, they killed my messenger.” Dar was subdued with shock. Demons got killed all the time going through the gate, but this cut close to home.

“I know. Next time I think you’ll need to come through yourself. You’re better at evading the guardian, and you can defend yourself pretty well.”

“That’s a problem too. Things here have gotten really bad. Haagenti has a careful watch on the gates and an order to take out anyone of your household. I had to send an unknown guy, someone unaffiliated with you. They’ll kill me if I try to get through, and even if I make it, they’ll be waiting for me when I return.”

Shit. This put a wrinkle in things.

“I swear to you Dar; this is almost over. I just need one more thing, and it’s urgent. I need you to contact that demon messenger, the one who has been the go–between from the elf woman and that human. Let him know I’ve found the dead hybrid baby, and am prepared to bring it back as proof to his Lordship, but I cannot do that unless I have the name and the address of the human servant who did the exchange.” Wyatt had forbidden me from killing any more humans, but I really needed to do this to ensure his sister’s safety. I’d make sure he never found out. It would be one last gift to him, and if he hated me for it, so be it.

“You found the baby?” Dar was excited. “But I thought she hadn’t killed it, that you were looking for a young adult?”

“Baby,” I emphasized. “Tell the demon that I verified Tlia–Myea’s story and will return with the dead hybrid infant. Tell him that somehow the human escaped death, and is still living here.”

“But why?”

“Totally hush, Dar. Tell no one but that demon—stress that I will not be able to bring the remains of the baby back unless I have the name and address of the human. Otherwise, it’s not happening.”

Dar remained silent.

“Just tell him, exactly like that. And I need the information by tonight. There is to be no negotiation on any of this. Clear?”

“Got it, Mal.” Dar disconnected. He loved this kind of cloak and dagger stuff. I had no doubt I’d have my answer by tonight, if not earlier.

I mulled over my schedule. I needed to dispatch the human servant so Amber’s existence would be virtually untraceable. Then dig up an elf baby tonight. Leethu and I could work all morning on the corpse, and with any luck I’d be back in the elf lands by tomorrow afternoon.
And dead by evening,
I though cynically. Which left me today to get my things in order.

I’d done this before. Made out power–of–attorneys, lists–of–assets. When I’d gone after Althean for the werewolves this past summer, the chance had been good that I would either be killed or in Hel for the rest of my life. I’d left everything to Wyatt, gave him instructions on where everything was, how to access the safe and the communication mirror. I didn’t need to change anything, but with what happened last night, I was worried he wouldn’t think to do anything. So I sat down to write.

Wyatt — If you’re getting this note, then Haagenti has me and my return will be delayed far past your lifespan.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be dead. Let him think and hope that I lived on.

Everything is still in place for you to assume all my possessions and business interests. Please feel free to enjoy them, or disburse them however you see fit.

Vegas is your horse. I bought him for you and have always considered him a gift. He’s a good boy and a lot of my best memories are of us riding together. I hope you can bring yourself to keep him.

I know you doubt me right now, and you have every right. There are things about me that I’ve always tried to hide from you, things that I knew you couldn’t accept. I’m sorry you’ve seen this part of me, sorry that I’ve hurt you. Yes, I had intended to kill the elf hybrid, but I just couldn’t. She is a hybrid. Hybrids have the same value as an animal. They are often considered to be monsters. And she’d committed murder. Admitted to it.

But in spite of everything, I discovered I couldn’t trade her life for mine. And not just her. I realized last night that I could no longer trade anyone’s life for mine. Self–defense is one thing, but I can’t bring myself to kill a relatively innocent person just to get myself out of trouble. I hope eventually you can believe what I’m telling you. Know that I’m sincere in this.

I love you. I think I’m the only demon that has ever felt that emotion, or maybe I’m just the first to admit it. I love you. You are my most favored human, a being so very precious to me. You are my best friend, my partner in crime. I will never, ever, forget you or what you have meant to me.

Sam

I blotted off the splotchy wet marks and put the letter in an envelope, sealing it and writing Wyatt’s name on the front.

“Leethu!” I called.

She bolted down the stairs with surprising speed. I had a sneaking suspicion she had been following me around, watching me since last night. Her face was worried and scared as she searched mine. I handed her the envelope.

“I’m going to try and locate an elf changeling body tonight. If I do, I’ll need your help to try and alter it somehow, so it appears to be the hybrid baby you sired.”

Leethu’s brow knitted. “I’ll do my best, Ni–ni, but it may not pass.”

“It needs to pass. If not, the elves will throw me out, and Haagenti will grab me. You do know what that means, don’t you? I’ll be killed. There will be no Iblis to protect you. If you stay here, the angels will kill you, if you go home, the elves. There’s a substantial price on your head. This baby needs to pass, or you’re dead.”

Leethu paled. “I understand.”

“If it doesn’t work, and Haagenti grabs me, give this letter to Wyatt, and then do whatever you need to, to protect yourself.”

“How do I know if it doesn’t work; if Haagenti has killed you? How will I know when to give your human this message?”

I thought for a second. There might be no one in my household left to deliver the message. I strongly suspected Haagenti would take out his rage on every one of them. And this whole scheme was doomed to failure anyway.

“Actually, just give it to Wyatt as soon as I leave,” I told her.

Leethu bit her trembling lip. “You’ll contact me if it works? To let me know if it’s safe to come home?”

I nodded. “Yes. But I need you to swear you’ll give the letter to Wyatt.”

There was a moment of silence as she looked at me. I felt rather like I was being dissected by her beautiful brown eyes. “I swear it upon all the beings I Own that I will give the letter to Wyatt.”

“Thank you.” I hugged her tight then I collected Boomer and headed to the cemetery.

23

I
pulled my Suburban in through the massive iron gates of Mount Olivet cemetery and headed left around the prominent Francis Scott Key memorial. Boomer was beside himself with excitement, like a dog in a Snausages factory. He smeared drool all over my windows in a halfhearted attempt to push his head through the glass. I appreciated his restraint. He really could break through the SUV window if he truly put some effort into it.

“No snackies today, boy.”

The one good thing about all the demons Wyatt and I had been killing was that Boomer had been less motivated to chow down on corpses from local graveyards. He was basically a lazy hellhound, and would take a meal of opportunity any day over one he’d actually have to work for. Demon corpses and road kill had been making up the majority of his diet lately. In fact, I really needed to put him on a diet. He was getting a little thick around the middle.

The man on the phone had been very cooperative when I told him I was researching some family history and wanted to know if any of the three names I had were interred there. One was, and he helpfully gave me the location of the grave and directions, which were useful given over thirty four thousand bodies had been laid to rest in this cemetery.

I circled to the right, along the fence line and past the seemingly endless line of markers from the Civil War—soldiers, some of them unknown, lined in formation in death as in life. Young men, their contribution to the human race rewarded with death. I wondered why the angels didn’t study the impact of their loss. So many lives. Perhaps it would have destroyed any faint hope in the evolution of humanity.

I was sure I’d become lost after so many turns in the labyrinth of the cemetery when I saw the marker. Finch. Infants were sometimes buried in an area of the cemetery known as Babyland then moved later after the family had time to purchase a section of plots, but the Finch family were long–time Frederick residents, and they had at one time purchased a large number of grave sites.

The standard sized plots were large enough to accommodate an infant at the foot of an adult grave. Leah Finch was buried at the end of the grave of her grandmother. I stopped and looked at the large stone, which listed the names of six family members buried around it. There were blank spots for two more names. With Boomer on a leash, we circled the large square monument, reading the smaller, embedded stones. There, at the foot of Martha Finch’s grave, was Leah Finch. She’d been a week old.

I thought about her parents, their grief. Wyatt’s family had it better. They’d been given a live baby in exchange. They’d got to see her grow up, love her as their own. This family had no such luck. They’d had their healthy child stolen from them in the night and replaced with a corpse. They’d mourned, wondered what had happened, if something could have been done to prevent the death of their baby, carried the scars of her loss with them forever. And all the while a human baby grew up a slave to the elves. Treated humanely, but denied the loving, normal childhood she should have had. It pissed me off. I’d always liked elves, admired them even. But now I was beginning to hate them.

“What do you think, Boomer?” I asked softly. “Is it an elf baby, or not.”

He looked at me with a quizzical, angled head, and sniffed the ground around the stone. He did a thorough job, long strands of drool extending from his jowls to leave snail tracks of slime across the grave marker and the brown, frozen grass. He looked up, nodded, then poised a paw to dig, tilting his head in question.

“Not yet, boy. We need to come back at dark. And I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to eat this one either.”

Boomer looked disappointed. He’d had plenty to eat lately, so I refused to feel guilty, even as he fixed his big, sad hound eyes on me. Dogs have short attention spans though, even hellhounds. As soon as he got back to the Suburban with his massive rawhide stick in the back, he forgot all about the corpse and settled in.

I was shocked out of my mind to walk through my front door and see Wyatt sitting at my dining room table. Catching my breath, I steeled myself for the coming conversation. The one where he told me he never wanted to see me again. The one that confirmed I’d lost him forever.

“So have you made any progress on finding suitable corpse to pass off as Amber?” His voice was cracked, strained.

“I’ve located a changeling corpse from around the time of Amber’s exchange. Boomer and I will retrieve it tonight.” I told him, standing as if I were giving a military report.

Wyatt looked at me, his eyes demanding truth. “You said you’d fake a demon energy signature on the elf baby, to try and make it look like a hybrid. Will that convince the elves? What are the chances here?”

“It will work,” I lied. “I’ll imbed the demon energy as deep as I can. There’s no way they’ll know the difference.”