Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (36 page)

“I am the Ha–satan, the Iblis. I ripped Haagenti out of his form and shredded him to bits. I consumed him. I am a devouring spirit. If any of you cross me, this will be your fate too.”

There was an air of discomfort, but no one objected. Devouring wasn’t an acceptable form of fighting. It wasn’t an acceptable form of anything. What I’d done was icky, kind of psycho. But what revolts the sensibilities also terrifies.

I put on my scabbard, slipped the Shotgun of the Iblis into its holster, and turned around to leave—the lone stranger, striding off into the sunset. Wyatt would have been proud.

After a few steps, I realized I had no idea exactly where I was. I wasn’t familiar with Cyelle enough to know where the elves had gated me, and I’d only been in Dis a few times. I had a feeling that heading to the city shimmering in the distance wouldn’t put me anywhere near my destination. So much for my grand exit.

“Uh, hey,” I called to the retreating crowd. “Can anyone tell me which way to Wythyn?”

One pointed to his left, never turning around. The others kept walking. Clearly I’d impressed them with my mighty show of power.

“Hey!” I shouted. This time I punctuated it with a shotgun blast and was gratified to see demons flinging themselves to the ground. “How do I get to Wythyn, and how far is it as the human walks?”

A tall, black, shadowy form with horns and red eyes approached me, eyeing my shotgun.

“Northeast.” He pointed off into the endless sea of red dust. “About two days if you walk in your current form.”

“Thanks,” I told him, setting off.

I wasn’t going home without my horse.

30

I
walked for about four hours, my clothes plastered to me with sweat. Thirsty, hungry and tired, I realized there was no way I could walk all the way to Wythyn. The Elven forest was to my right, receding into the haze, but I was certain it was still Cyelle. I longed for the dewy coolness, but couldn’t risk capture until I was sure it would be Wythyn elves hauling me away, not Taullian’s.

Two days I plodded along, turning my head slightly to see if I were still being followed. A couple of the demons had left the group after I headed away and continued to trail behind me, close enough to keep me in sight, but far enough to be safe from a shotgun blast. I considered stripping off all my clothing, securing it into a bundle around the gun scabbard then transforming into something more suitable for the climate, something that could travel quicker than a slow human walk. My followers caused me some hesitation. I’d made a big deal about fighting Haagenti in a human form. Would changing into something more demonic decrease the effect of my statement? Would it be seen as a weakness that I couldn’t travel the entire distance in the form I’d come to prefer? In the back of my mind I wondered if resuming my reptile shape here, in Hel, would cause me to fall back into the demon I was long ago. Would I shed my humanity as I shed the human form? I’d gotten used to walking that knife–edge between the two, come to enjoy the duality. I didn’t want to lose that, didn’t want to upset the balance.

I saw movement to my left and a flash of sun on scales, but it wasn’t a demon. A sand serpent, surfacing from its tunnels deep below, tested the air for the scent of prey. Glancing quickly, I saw a figure in the distance behind me. One left. I wondered how long it would be until he gave up. Hopefully before I collapsed from dehydration. Another flash; this one closer. I pulled the shotgun from the holster and held it ready. Sand serpents didn’t usually mess with demons, but they weren’t particularly smart and often mistook us for an easy meal. In human form, I’m sure I smelled like an easy meal. Another flash. I stopped and waited, gun at the ready.

Ignoring the tickle of sweat rolling down my neck, I tapped my foot lightly on the hard–packed, red clay, just to let the serpent know where I was. The ground shifted slightly under my feet, softening into dusty sand. I jumped early, not wanting to rely too much on slow human reaction times, and shot the flash of red that rose from the ground where I’d been standing just a second before. Red flew apart in chunks, and the headless body vanished back underground. Sand Serpents didn’t need their heads to survive, it’s not like their brains were all that useful anyway. It would take him a few hours to form a vestigial head, a small nub, before he headed out in search of another meal. He wouldn’t be back though. They weren’t that stupid.

The demon following me had halted, watching from a distance. I kept him in my line of sight as I checked out the chunks of sand serpent scattered on the red desert floor. I’d lucked out. The lower jaw held a water bladder, and somehow it had managed to stay intact. This one was a good size, almost a gallon of liquid. I stuffed some of the salt–rimmed scales in my coat pockets, and grabbed a couple pieces of meat, brushing the desert dust from them. With my water tucked under my arm, munching on a piece of meat, I continued on.

Still, that fucking demon followed me. I wondered if he’d eaten the rest of the serpent’s head. He must be in a form that didn’t require much water or he would have turned back long ago. The sun was setting off to the east, tingeing the red landscape with lavender and brown. I’d finished my food and nearly all the water, and wasn’t relishing another day and a half of this bullshit. I especially wasn’t looking forward to tromping through Dis in the dark of night in human form. I was going to have to change shape. I thought about confronting the demon, but every time I stopped, he did. Every time I headed toward him, he retreated. The darker it got, the closer he came, and finally, as night fully descended, he was only about ten yards away.

I turned to get a good look at him and was surprised to see a Low.

“Why are you following me? What do you want?”

He looked respectfully at my feet, scaled claws by his sides. He was hunched over, as if he would have been more at home on all fours, and this added to the air of subservience.

“I offer myself to your household, Iblis,” he said, bobbing his head to emphasize his deference.

Fuck. I already had one Low in my household. Were they all going to flock to me for protection and status? What was I going to do with them all?

“What skills do you have?” I asked with a sigh. Let’s just get this over with, so he could leave and I could switch to a faster, more defensible shape.

“I can do the lightning,” he said proudly. “And I can change color.”

Any demon older than two seconds could do lightning. And what use would I possibly have for a demon that changed color? Maybe I could stand him in the corner at parties, like a festive color–changing lamp.

“Report to my Stewart and tell him you are to entertain others with your magnificent color changing abilities.”

I was feeling generous, and tired. Honestly, I just wanted him to go away and this seemed like the quickest way to accomplish that.

“Yes,” he squeaked. “Oh, thank you, Iblis. You will be most pleased with my color changes.”

He scurried off Southwest, on all fours this time, and I watched until he vanished in the dark. Then I drained the last of my water and stripped, bundling all my clothing in a ball surrounded by my coat and held tight with the scabbard ties. I looped my belt through into a circle, then stepped back and transformed into my first form. It felt good: really good. The temperature was suddenly insignificant and the hard–packed ground felt softer under my claws. I shoved one of my three heads through the belt circle, sliding my little bundle down my neck to rest against the swell of my shoulder. With a flap of wings, I took to the sky.

What would have been a day and a half on foot took a mere hour. Hot thermals buoyed me upward, caressing my wings as I flew. The elven forests stretched out to my left, the bareness of Dis to my right. In the day, the contrast would have been more noticeable. The elven forests spread verdant with a clear line delineating the kingdom borders. Each kingdom had favored color schemes, plants and animals, and these changed abruptly, right at the territory line. Where the elven lands met demon ones, the difference was even more striking. We both manipulated our environments, but the elves had far greater skill. And demons really didn’t care that much about botanical diversity.

I landed outside the Wythyn border at its south–eastern edge just as one moon glimmered at the horizon. The trees were identical to those in Cyelle. Even in the dark, I could see the moss and lush green stretching in a dense forest to the north. There was an addition of hanging moss on the trees here, and a slightly different bark texture, but these two kingdoms were visually similar.

I contemplated waiting until daybreak, but I was tired and just wanted to get this over with and go home, so I deposited my bundle and stepped back, transforming into my human, Samantha Martin, form. Dressing, I checked my pockets. Kirby’s marble and notes were there, along with the salt–edged sand serpent scales. I strapped the Shotgun of the Iblis on my back and without further ado, stepped over the defined line that separated the red clay of Dis from the loamy green of the elven forest. Instantly, the birdsong stopped. Ah, the alarm. It wouldn’t take them long now. I hoped they’d be quick about it because I really wanted a nap. I hadn’t slept well the night I’d left, wanting to spend as much waking time as I could enjoying Wyatt’s embrace, and I certainly didn’t sleep while locked in my room in Cyelle. I strolled through the forest, but I didn’t need to walk far. Less than twenty minutes later a net fell over me, dropping me to the ground and disabling my ability to use my energy. I felt myself dumped unceremoniously over the back of a horse and tied to the saddle. Finally, nap time.

31

“L
ook what we found.”

Whatever net they’d thrown over me had blinded me, but unfortunately I could still feel pain as I was rudely dropped from about four feet and bounced down what must have been the hardest stairs ever. I couldn’t fix myself, so I lay blind and bruised, in a heap on a cold floor.

“She came back? After last time? These demons are fools indeed.”

I hadn’t made it to the High Lord’s presence. I’d get there eventually; since I’m sure he wanted a piece of me. Cursing him out, refusing to bend to his commands, then vanishing right out from under him. Yeah, I’d probably be seeing him real soon.

I felt something prodding my hip, like a stick. “She’s got a price on her head.”

“That demon guy? Hagen something?”

“Not just him. Cyelle would be very grateful if she somehow appeared in their dungeons.”

I heard a laugh. “Cyelle can do their own dirty work. Although Lord Feille might swap her for one of their sorcerers.”

“At the rate we go through them, maybe he should ask for two,” a sarcastic voice said.

“Hush, you idiot. Do you want to be strung up for treason?”

Interesting. Seems I wasn’t the only one who thought this lord was an asshole. They continued to discuss my probable fate in hushed voices, occasionally prodding me with a foot or some kind of stick object. Eventually, notice must have come of my summons, as conversation halted and I felt myself dragged along the floor. It wouldn’t have been as bad if I didn’t have a shotgun strapped to my back. The thing kept digging into me and catching on walls and doorways, twisting me in painful directions.

I bumped down another set of stairs, the shotgun jabbing into my back, my head and my arms, adding considerably to my bruises. I landed at the bottom feeling as though I’d been beaten repeatedly with a hammer.. Instead of setting me free, someone started beating me with another object.

“Az, Az. I am so happy to see you,” came the voice of Feille, in time with the blows. I was really feeling the welcome.

“Let me out of this bag and we’ll see how happy you are.”

He laughed and kept whacking me. “I’ll let you out in a minute. I’m just relieving a little frustration.”

I twisted around so his next hit directly impacted my shotgun, and was thrilled to hear his stick crack and splinter.

“That was my favorite staff,” Feille said, although he didn’t seem terribly upset at the loss.

“Shall I get you another, My Lord?” a voice asked.

“No, I’m done anyway. Go ahead and let her out.”

I heard footsteps and was rolled around as the net lifted off. As soon as I was free, I fixed my cracked rib and various bruises and straightened my clothing. My shirt was a bloody, shredded mess from the fight with Haagenti, but everything else was in good order. Feille had left my side and was sitting in a ridiculously ostentatious throne that rose nearly ten feet above his crowned head. A sorcerer stood beside him, hands at the ready in case I made an aggressive move. I noticed a circle of runes around the throne chair, no doubt to guard against demon attack. It pissed me off further. The guy was happy to beat the shit out of me while I was safely restrained in a net, and now he sat in his big, stupid chair, the very image of strength and bravery with protective runes all around and a sorcerer at his side. Bet he wouldn’t be so cocky alone in a dark alley at night.

“Az, you dare to come back after the insult you delivered to me last time? And it seems you’re making friends all over Hel. I’m deliberating which contract on you I’ll take. Our neighboring kingdom, or that Haagenti creature.”

“I think you’ll have a hard time reaching Haagenti right now, unless you’ve got a medium on your staff. He’s rather dead, you see.”

A flicker of concern crossed Feille’s face. Yeah, fucker. Wonder how he died. Wonder if I did it. Wonder how a little imp took Haagenti out. Go ahead and think about that.

“Well, that limits my options. Seems you’ll be vacationing a while in Cyelle.”

I knew those guys hated each other. Even if he had no other use for me, he’d dangle me tauntingly in front of Taullian’s face before he’d turn me over, regardless of the reward, and I was positive he’d much rather get his sorcerer back. He had to be running low on them at this point.

“Oh, I love it there,” I told him with a smile. “They fuck demons, you know. If I’m lucky, I may even be able to knock one of them up.”