Imp Forsaken (Imp Book 5) (40 page)

“Dar, they won’t go away. I can’t make them go away.” My voice rose dramatically, ending with me nearly hyperventilating.

My brother reached out a paw and awkwardly patted my knee. “Calm down. I’m sure they’ll eventually go away. Or maybe we can cut them off. There’s got to be a sword somewhere, or a chainsaw.”

“No! Don’t touch them, don’t even breathe on them.”

I panicked at the thought of slicing them from my body. Demons have a huge tolerance for pain, but I wasn’t sure I could survive their removal. I felt every barb, every hook of each feather. My spirit-self was driven down deep into their structure, and unlike the rest of my form, I couldn’t seem to distance myself from the appendages.

Dar expelled a breath. “Well they’re kinda pretty, in an angel sort of way.”

They were, but that didn’t mean I had to like them. And how the fuck was I supposed to walk around with big-ass angel wings sticking out of my back? I’d cause a panic, a riot in the streets. Other demons would either flee at the sight of me, or try to kill me. I pulled the wings in tight against my back and tried to make them look as small as possible. They were massive, either sticking out far above my head, or out to the side. I couldn’t seem to adjust them so they’d be hidden by my body from the front.

“Maybe if I wrap a large blanket or carpet around myself, they won’t show. I’ll just look like I have a big hump or something.”

Dar snorted a laugh. “You’ll look like you’re smuggling a small dragon on your back. They wiggle around a lot. Can’t you hold them still?”

“No.” The wings twitched, as if they had a life of their own. “I’ll just have to hope no one rips the carpet off my back. The fewer people that see these things the better.”

Dar nodded. “There’s got to be some way to dissolve or hide them. Other angels aren’t prancing around with their wings out all the time.”

“I’m not an angel!” I protested hotly. “Not!”

It was a good idea, though. I needed to find another way to contact Wyatt since my mirror had been destroyed with my residence. Once I did, I’d ask him to check with Gregory. Homesickness washed through me at the thought of both of them. I was free of Ahriman, but I was still banished. How would I ever manage to get home?

“Sooo, carpet it is then.” Dar looked around. “I’m not seeing any down here, but I’m sure Ahriman has some in the more comfortable sections of his house.”

Probably. I thought I saw some tapestries when we were in the room we’d used for breeding. “You wouldn’t have any idea how to get out of this dungeon, would you?” I asked.

Dar shook his head. “The guy teleported me in. If there’s a door here, I’ll find it.”

I watched him scurry around, his nose twitching and paws scrabbling along the walls. My heart warmed. I was so happy he was alive. A paw paused, hovering. There was a click and the wall moved, revealing a staircase. I eyed Dar in admiration.

“You rock! I’ve been down here for weeks and couldn’t find that thing.”

He smirked as well as a giant rat could and raced up the stairs. I hurried after him, slowing the moment I tried to wedge my huge wings through the doorway.

“Dar! Hold up.”

He waited impatiently while I adjusted and shifted, finally managing to negotiate the narrow stairway by shuffling sideways at a squat. I was never so happy as the moment I saw the warm, dry room through the doorway at the top of the stairs, sunlight streaming through colored windows.

“Consort?” One of Ahriman’s servants squeaked in surprise, eyes traveling from Dar to me. I halted at the threshold, hoping my wings weren’t visible in the dim light of the stairway. The demon didn’t run away in fear, but tilted his head, as if he expected to see another coming behind me. “Is our master still in residence?”

I couldn’t envision Ahriman taking the stairs anywhere. He’d always done his smoke-entrance thing and teleported everywhere. I hesitated, not sure what tactic to take. Would the demon’s household attack me if they found out about their master’s death? And what would they do if they caught sight of the huge feathered things permanently attached to my back? Guess it was time to find out. Ahriman was dead, and I couldn’t hang out in this stairway forever.

“Nope. I’m afraid there’s been an early termination of the contract. Ahriman and I have parted ways.”

I stepped into the open and felt my wings spread out to their full length, flexing after the cramped confines of the passageway.

The demon clutched his chest and let out a scream that shook the windows. Before I could say a word, he’d turned to bolt toward the door. Dar got there first.

“Oh no you don’t.”

The demon skidded to a halt, his eyes darting between my brother and myself.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I know I look terrifying right now, but I really don’t want to hurt any of you. I’ve killed Ahriman, but I have nothing against any of the members of his household.”

The demon shuddered as he glanced at my wings, then his eyes traveled to my hair. I reached up, feeling the familiar tingle of a feathered barrette. No fucking way. After all I’d been through, all the times I’d needed this thing and it had refused to appear? Now it shows up, after I’ve been through some of the most painful, gut-wrenching moments of my short life. Now it shows up.

I ripped the barrette out of my hair and threw it against the wall where it stuck like a ninja star. It hadn’t been there when I’d needed it, and now it wanted back in my life like some dickhead boyfriend crawling back with apologies?

“Go fuck yourself,” I shouted at the thing. Ahriman’s servant stared at me with shocked eyes, no doubt thinking my words were meant for him. “Not you. You’re fine, it’s the sword I’m pissed at.”

Dar raised an eyebrow. I knew I sounded like I’d gone over the edge, cursing an inanimate object. I didn’t care.

“Iblis,” the servant squeaked. “I humbly beg that you accept us into your household. We can promise you loyalty as well as all the talents and skills we possess.”

Shit. Ahriman had to have nearly two thousand in his household, what with all his residences and alliances. How the fuck was I supposed to afford to keep them all? I couldn’t pitch them out on the streets. Probably thirty percent would quickly find a new household, but the others wouldn’t live past the end of the week. There’s no way I could provide for them, though. My home was a melted blob, and I was broke.

Or was I? I looked around at the ornate chairs, the bone and flesh décor, the elven tapestries on the walls, embellished with blood stains. I wasn’t broke; I was rich. Filthy, stinking, rich.

“Petition either my steward or my second,” I indicated Dar. “I don’t want to just go accepting any old demon into my household. They can decide which of you are worthy. I have more important things to do.”

Dar choked back a laugh. He knew I was a complete pushover when it came to household petitions. Every one of them would make the cut, even the lowest of Lows.

The servant bowed and I waved him off with instructions to compile and present me with an inventory of all my new properties and items. I knew half of it would be stolen before it ever hit the balance sheet. That’s just how things happened in Hel.

“Nice save, Mal,” Dar commented, examining a crystal bowl filled with wood chips. “Hey, check this out. They’re chopped up bits of an Ent.”

I looked into the bowl with morbid curiosity. Ents were tree creatures not native to Hel. Ahriman got around, and he seemed to have a fascination with saving body parts of his victims. I was just glad I hadn’t wound up as chair upholstery or part of a staircase banister. But I could contemplate psychotic decorating ideas later, right now there were more pressing things on my mind.

“So, I’m assuming things aren’t going well in Wythyn if they bundled you up and sold you out to Ahriman.”

Dar grimaced, turning reluctantly away from the bowl of Ent. “Wythyn still rebels. Kllee will agree to the alliance as long as everyone leaves them alone. Cyelle and Tonlielle are besties—practically one kingdom at this point. Allwin wants some assurances of military protection since they suffered the most in the war with Wythyn and don’t trust them to hold to any sort of peace.”

“What about Li?”

Dar compressed his lips and shook his head. “They ran Radl out on a pike after twelve hours. I sent him back in with some reinforcements and he’s still there. Last I heard, he was desecrating their holy statues with added, inappropriately placed genitals, and demanding all their songs feature the mighty hero Radl the Repulsive.”

Better news than I had thought, given Radl’s questionable skills. “I heard Kllee was on board with the humans gaining their freedom. Has there been any significant resistance from the other elves?”

Dar looked grim. “I was saving the worst for last. Taullian has gone back on his word to free the humans. Once he realized how powerless you were under Ahriman’s thumb, he changed his mind. The elven gates are all closed, but the peninsula remains a part of Cyelle, and no humans have been allowed to leave their masters. All the kingdoms except Kllee are happy to follow Taullian’s lead.”

I felt the wings at my back snap outward in fury. “Well then, I think it’s time we paid the ruler of the United Elven Kingdoms a visit.”

32

I
flew under the cover of a rare moonless night on the long trip to Dis, worried that my interesting new wings would cause a commotion that would end with me shot out of the sky. It was an exhilarating trip. As much as having them bothered me, these things were fast, and the feeling of wind through my feathers was pretty damned close to sex. I hadn’t taken into consideration my increased speed and arrived pre-dawn, forcing me to wait around for a respectable time to pay a call to Gareth.

The sorcerer greeted me informally in a workshop full of magical supplies. Bundled tree limbs and sticks were propped against the wall, jars of herbs and various liquids neatly shelved in rows. His smile faltered when he saw me, eyes widening.

“Yeah. I know. I can’t figure out how to get rid of them.”

“When? When?”

I shrugged. “Sometime between me turning Ahriman into a pile of lifeless sand and stuffing a dying demon back into his newly healed body.”

Gareth made a choking noise. “You killed Ahriman?”

I heard the unspoken question—an imp killed an ancient demon that ranked at the very top of the hierarchy?

“And the high elf up in Wythyn, and Haagenti, a few sorcerers, and a real asshole of an angel.” And a whole lot of others that I wasn’t so proud of. But my past was my past, and my future was hopefully before me. It was time to make my mark—both here and in Aaru, if I could ever manage to get out of Hel, that is.

“I heard about what you tried to do for us humans. I appreciate your efforts, although they don’t seem to have made any difference in the end.” Gareth approached to shake my hand with his left, his eyes darting occasionally to my wings, as if he couldn’t help himself. His right hand was bandaged, half hidden beneath a long sleeve. I was surprised he remembered the handshake I’d taught him.

“Don’t you worry. I’m not through with those elves yet.”

His eyes swept my naked, human form with unconcealed doubt. “I can’t see how an imp could be of any further help.”

I grinned. “You should never underestimate an imp.”

The sorcerer nodded, clearly not believing me, and ran a tired hand over his stubbled chin.

“What did you do to your hand?” I gestured toward the bandages.

He held up the hand and carefully unwrapped it to reveal blackened, twisted fingers. “Ammonia nitrate and puffwretch sap.” I grimaced in sympathy. “Wish I had a curative scroll, but they’re pretty scarce right now, with the war and all. Times like this I wouldn’t mind having an elf around.”

Or an angel. Before he could protest, I reached out to grab the mangled hand, a stream of gold light pouring from me. His hand lit up in a blazing glow while he watched, perplexed. After a few seconds, I retracted the energy and was pleased to see his hand strong and tan, the skin smooth and free of age spots. Crap. I’d probably need to do the other one or he’d look strangely lopsided: an old man with one wrinkled hand and one young one.

He stared at the hand in amazement, then up at me, new respect in his eyes. “Demons don’t heal.”

“This one does.” I didn’t want to say the word. I wasn’t an angel, just some weird mutated demon. Yeah, that was it.

“A sorcerer with one hand is a sorcerer without a career,” he said slowly. “Please tell me how I can repay this gift.”

I got right to the point. “I need an elf button, something to get me in front of Taullian without having to fight my way past hundreds of elves.”

A look of regret came over his face. “The city and palace are warded, locked down tight. Taullian is not about to be surprised at breakfast—he’s learnt from what he did to Feille.”

Damn. “A relay device?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “That’s not Wythyn magic, and I haven’t had time to attempt a copy.”

There had to be some way. I couldn’t fly in without setting off all sorts of alarms, and I didn’t want Taullian to go into hiding while his elves slowed me down with an endless stream of attacks.

“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” The sorcerer walked through a door at the rear of the room, partially hidden behind a tower of baskets. He was gone only a few moments before he returned, thrusting an amulet into one hand and a bundle of fabric into another.

“Clothes,” he said, pointing to the bundle. “As delectable as that human body is, you should probably cover at least a portion of it.”

Dirty old man. I grinned, and his eyes twinkled in response. He was right, and I was getting a bit tired of being naked all the time. Human flesh was susceptible to nicks, cuts, and bruises unless protected. The elves wouldn’t care, but I’d have more of a commanding presence if I were clothed.

“This,” he indicated the amulet, “allows for an hour of enhanced non-detection.”

“Invisibility?” I turned the amulet over in my hand to admire the glyphs engraved on the back.

“No, enhanced non-detection. It’s not the normal ‘look away’ or ‘no-see’ spell, and it does more than hide you from sight. It allows you to travel in an inter-dimensional rift. No one can see you, smell you, or sense you in anyway. Magical detection spells don’t register it either.”