Imp Forsaken (Imp Book 5) (24 page)

With a powerful devouring spirit as his right hand, he could ruin the place, kill angels and scatter the rest. Even those who fled and survived would find themselves consigned to a corporeal existence. No Aaru would mean no place where they could exist as a pure being of spirit. They’d be damned, exiled, just as they’d done to us. Of course, he’d need to be able to control this weapon of his, and I suspected a devouring spirit strong enough to overcome the Ruling Council and smash Aaru would be one Ahriman couldn’t reign in at the end of the day. Revenge made for reckless decisions. I remembered Gregory’s prophecy of how a devouring spirit would bring about the apocalypse, the end of all creation. Would Ahriman find vengeance as sweet if it cascaded a chain of events that ended in the annihilation of all life—himself included? Maybe his hate had been festering so long that he just didn’t care anymore.

Gregory would never allow it
, I thought with a surge of admiration and pride. He was unbelievably powerful, but so was Ahriman. Yes, the demon had been on the losing side of the wars, but failing to win once didn’t mean he couldn’t succeed this time. And Gregory might be taken unawares. He’d always been a tower of strength, but since I’d come into his life he was changing. Would he hesitate a second too long? I felt a twinge of guilt that the love he had for me might have compromised his safety and that of all of Aaru. In spite of my slander, I was developing an odd affection for the place. In some way it was mine.

Which left me caught in the middle. How could I keep to the terms of my breeding contract and not be party to the monster Ahriman wanted to form? If we’d agreed on just a couple of occurrences, I could sneak defective bits, or useless traits over to him. He didn’t devour. He was relying on me to provide what he wanted. How long could I deceive him? One thousand years. One thousand occurrences. He’d catch on eventually.

There was a burst of light and a man appeared before me. He wore sensible gray robes that hummed with the magic of the runes embroidered along the edges. His bald head was unusually tanned and dotted with brown age spots. Fierce dark eyes met mine from under a bushy white brow. He was clearly well fed, but there was power under the extra weight. Most sorcerers spent all their time in lightless rooms with their noses glued to books, or practicing their art. This guy got outside and did physical things.

“Gareth? Welcome to my home,” I stood and offered my hand. He looked at it, as if he expected me to hand him something. “Sorry.” I withdrew the hand and bowed instead. “I’ve been with the humans a very long time and they clasp hands when they greet each other.”

He held out his hand, mirroring mine. “Like this? I would be very interested to learn the customs of my people, as well as more about their culture.”

His tone was formal, wary, but contained a wistful quality.

I took his hand in mine. “There is significance in the tightness of the grasp, the proximity of the two individuals, and the distance the hand is raised and lowered. A handshake can be a simple greeting, or it can convey status and intention.”

He nodded with a terse smile. “Good to know. How should I address you? Some tell me you’re the Iblis, others say you’re not.”

That was the million-dollar question. Was I still the Iblis? I hadn’t seen that fucking sword since Alaska. It was the symbol of the office, but even with it gone, I still
felt
like the Iblis. The responsibility sat like a weight on my shoulders, and I wasn’t sure if it was official or self-imposed. Either way, greedy imp that I was, I wouldn’t let go of the title without a fight.

“Yes, I’m the Iblis, but you may call me Sam.”

I don’t know why I gave him the human name I’d assumed so long ago instead of one of my demon names and titles. It just seemed to fit. More and more I was identifying with the humans.

“Normally I would not meet with a demon on such short notice, or in their territory, but I’ve heard intriguing things about you.”

Intriguing things? “That Feille tried to hire me to hunt you down?”

“More that you exploded the top of his throne with some magical device and overpowered his restraining net. I’ve also heard that you managed to attack and kill one of his sorcerers from a dungeon, and that you have some rather prominent connections in the demon hierarchy.”

Ahriman. The guy’s name did open doors. I had no doubt my contract with the ancient demon weighed more in my favor than any of my alleged antics with the elves.

“I’ve heard things about you, too. You’ve taken out every demon sent to bring you in, made a home for yourself among us. And the reason you ran from Feille? Could it have been a special project through the gates that involved tearing demons into little bits for angels and stashing away their energy to super-power spells.”

Gareth caught his breath, a shimmer of gold rising around his body in protection.

“It’s not that I have any issue with that special project. I had planned to leave long before then, and the proposed project expedited my departure.”

“And you have had dealings with Ahriman in the past? Could it be that he assisted you in your escape?”

The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were his consort. Wouldn’t you know that sort of thing?”

I smiled, trying to appear sly. “Even the closest of demons have their secrets. I’m trying to gauge your loyalty.”

There were a few tense seconds while Gareth dissected me with his eyes. Finally, the gold protective shield around him vanished.

“The ancient one requested a specific magical item from me that required over twenty years of research to produce and perfect. In return, I was given protection and guaranteed a certain amount of contracted commerce. That affiliation is one of the main reasons I agreed to see you.”

I nodded, forcing a pleased smile. “I hope to make a similar arrangement with other humans currently under elven rule.”

His eyes lit up at the suggestion. I felt his loneliness, his longing for human companionship beyond his apprentice. The ground seemed to tilt slightly, to shift, and I saw lines of this man’s future before me. One path to leadership and greatness, another short path to a gruesome death.
Mine
. Suddenly I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure the first path was the one that saw the light of day.

“Why did you want to leave Feille and the kingdom of Wythyn? His sorcerers achieve remarkable things. It must have been difficult to give that sort of research opportunity up to live among the demons and produce vast quantities of transport buttons and fireball launchers.”

He grimaced, relaxing his wary posture slightly. “Although the opportunity to learn, the investment in spell components and research was appealing, Wythyn is not conducive to a long life. The project in question was… intriguing, but there was a significant amount of personal risk, and Feille is not known for providing back-up when things go bad.”

I nodded. “Understood. His whole team is gone. That Pash guy, his two mages and apprentice. All dead.”

Gareth paled. “Well, that’s what happens when humans get between demons and angels. Add elves into the mix and we’ll most likely wind up dead. It’s better to pick a side that will shelter you under their wing, so to speak.”

And which side would Gareth pick? He clearly wasn’t in favor of elves, and few humans had dealings with angels that they were aware of. He’d managed to make a life for himself in demons lands. I was banking that his loyalty was with us.

“I have a proposal,” I watched for his reaction. “But I don’t want to run afoul of any prior commitment you might have with another demon. I need to ask—are you part of Ahriman’s household?”

The sorcerer recoiled in revulsion. “No! I do service for different demons on a freelance basis. Ahriman is a client that receives priority attention, but my earlier project with him satisfied any debt. I don’t need to belong to a demon household in order to survive in their lands.”

“Yet….” I let the word hang in the air between us, watching Gareth’s increased rate of breathing. “Eventually you’ll get caught in the middle, just like Pash. Wouldn’t it be better if the humans had their own space? Freedom from the elves, protection in return for a tax in addition to the protection of a powerful demon?”

Gareth spat and gave a wave of his hand. “The elves would never let us go, and for the demons to shelter us, give us land… well, the price would be far too high. I was lucky that an ancient saw my talent and had a need. I was even luckier that he followed through and didn’t betray me. Most demons can’t be trusted. I took a horrible risk, but I didn’t have much of an alternative.”

“What if the humans
did
have freedom and their own lands?” I smiled a secret smile. He was intrigued. “Times, they are a-changing. And I intend to rush the whole thing along a bit.”

We studied each other in silence. Gareth trying to determine if he could trust me, gauge how much of my words were truth and lie. I wondered how I could possibly gain his support without revealing information about Taullian’s impending attack. Gareth seemed to have broken all ties with Feille, but if the price was right, I couldn’t discount the chance he’d sell me out.

“I need five potions of non-detection, twelve snare-nets, twenty vials of paralyzation, forty slippery-skin amulets, and a phantom-hands garrote. Oh, and a chicken wand. I need a chicken wand. Within the next seven days.”

Gareth stared, his mouth open. He had nice teeth for an old guy. Elves might be assholes but they seemed to have decent dentistry services.

“What do you think I am, a magic factory?” he sputtered. “It’s not like I have a warehouse full of items, ready to go. Each one of those will take days to make. Some have to be created under specific astrological conditions. I can’t make all that in seven days.”

I shrugged. “Then steal it.”

His mouth opened even more. I could see tonsils. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “Steal it how? Waltz into the citadel in Wythyn, fill up a bag and waltz right out? You’re insane.”

“Feille can’t manage six kingdoms. Everything is on the edge of chaos right now—the elves are panicked, the humans are panicked. Skilled mages would happily fill up a bag and waltz right out the door if they had a safe place to go.”

His mouth snapped shut and a shrewd look crossed his face. “How would I contact them? And how could I guarantee they’d get safe passage out of their respective elven kingdoms?”

I threw up my hands. “You’re a fucking sorcerer. I’m sure you have some way to message each other without physically traveling the distance. Crystal balls, a mirror, a cell phone. As for the safe passage, it shouldn’t be a problem. Don’t mess with Cyelle. Taullian still has a decent handle on his kingdom through some treaty with Feille. Target Tonlielle, Klee, and Li. Their high lords are either dead or imprisoned in Wythyn, and Feille is spread really thin in management.”

Gareth tapped his finger against his chin. “Give me forty-eight hours, and I’ll let you know what I can get.”

I swallowed hard. Now came the hard part. “What’s your fee?”

He quoted a number and I felt the room spin. Fuck. How much was I willing to pay for this gamble? Because it was a gamble. If we didn’t win, Taullian wouldn’t honor his deal concerning the humans and I’d be out for everything. Even if he did win, I’d be out for everything. It’s not like I could collect any kind of recompense from a group of ex-slaves, or claim restitution from Feille’s coffers. I’d be destitute. Destitute and dependent on Ahriman with the burden of a household of forty demons to support. I owed them too. I’d promised them protection and support. How the fuck could I possibly afford this?

“Done”.

We shook hands, and I caught that rare smile from Gareth. “So what other human customs can you show me?”

“Hot wings, chilled vodka, fast cars and projectile weapons, heated swimming pools, friendship, loyalty, and love.” I thought about Wyatt and all my friends back home—my other home. Warmth filled my chest. “If things work out, I’ll get you passage through the gates and you can visit me and my earthly household. You might just decide to stay.”

He smiled, like he didn’t quite believe me. “But Hel is my home. What would I possibly do there? What kind of life could I have among people I don’t even know?”

“A wonderful life,” I said, thinking of Nyalla. “Better than you could ever imagine.”

“I’m not interested in imagining it. You do realize I was brought here as an infant sixty-four years ago? I know no one on the other side of the gates. I don’t know their languages, their customs, or their jobs. This is my home, and I’m not leaving.”

He and so many other humans felt the same. Not just the older ones brought in as babies. How many had been here five or ten years and would be reluctant to go back to a world that changed without them? We demons were different. We’d spend decades, centuries even, in Hel before popping across the gates for fun. It was disorienting, and we had so much to learn each trip. That was part of the fun for us, the rush of not knowing what to expect once we’d crossed over and evaded the gate guardian. Humans, as demon-like as they were, valued security and stability far more than we did.

Gareth left and I once again thought about what I needed to do. Kill Feille before he could move against the demons. Help Taullian win and stabilize six kingdoms so he’d grant the humans freedom and the beginnings of a new life. That was the big heartburn on my to-do list. I had a household of forty. I’d need all of the magical items I’d asked Gareth for to make it seem like that forty was four hundred, and to ensure their safety. In addition to winning this fight, I had to make Taullian think I was a mighty force so he wouldn’t weasel out of our deal. If we impressed him enough in battle, if Leethu and Dar were instrumental in stabilizing the kingdoms, he’d
have
to honor our agreement.

And then there was Ahriman. I’d hoped to keep all this from him, but each day that passed lessened the chance that he’d be unaware of my actions. When all was said and done, I’d probably have to come crawling to him and beg forgiveness. I don’t do crawling, and I got the idea that Ahriman didn’t do forgiving. He’d begin our thousand-year contract pissed at me, only to become more enraged when he found out how terribly damaged I was. If I then went on to refuse him the devouring pattern for his offspring, who knew what he’d do to me? I’d survived meeting an angel, battling a vengeful demon, exploding, and imprisonment by the elves, and, hopefully, a hand-to-hand fight with Feille, but this might be the end of the line for me. I’d need to take satisfaction with all I’d accomplished in my short life. That would give me comfort when Ahriman tore me to pieces in a rage.