Read Angel of Chaos (Imp Book 6) Online
Authors: Debra Dunbar
Tags: #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Romance, #demons, #angels, #nephilim, #contemporary fantasy, #urban fantasy, #paranormal romance, #fantasy humor
“Here, take this.” She thrust Fred at me.
I was prepared. Throwing a tablecloth around the animal, I stuffed him into his box and slammed the lid. “Need me to heal you? I’m not very good at it yet, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“Already done.” The woman wiggled her fingers at me then turned to smile at Nyalla and Harper. “Let me go wash my hands, and then we can talk.”
“All clear.” Nils came in the back door, his face serious. “Boomer is guarding just in case, but I couldn’t sense any angels.” He turned to Harper. “You okay?”
The woman lifted her chin. “I’ll be fine. It’s pretty in West Virginia. After the baby is born, I’ll get a job at an outfitter, teach climbing and rafting while the werewolf babysitters do their job. I’ll be all right. Better than if I go to Hel, anyway.”
The tremble in her voice sounded anything but fine. Nyalla made a sympathetic noise, rubbing the woman’s shoulder. I watched in surprise as Nils approached Harper and put his arm around her, tucking her into his side.
“Bencul was a manipulating jerk. Don’t let one asshole ruin your trust toward everyone else in this world. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and things will get better.” She looked up, and he smiled down at her. “Trust me; I understand what you’re going through. Just take what life gives you and run with it. Have faith that everything will be all right in the end.”
Jaq cleared her throat and walked from the kitchen toward Harper, her long thin hand extended. “My name is Jaq, and I’m a half–angel. I’m here to answer all of your questions, honestly and completely.”
Harper shook her hand, sliding out from under Nils’s arm. The pair made themselves comfortable on the sofa while the rest of us hid in the kitchen and tried not to look like we were eavesdropping. This was Harper’s choice to make. Her life. None of us wanted to push her toward one decision or the other, although glancing out my window at the line of sticks around my house, I doubted there was any other decision she
could
make.
I pulled three beers from the fridge and popped the caps, handing one to Nyalla and another to Nils. He took a swig and made a face.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to drinking this stuff. Coffee and wine, yes. Beer, no.”
“You’re doing better than that other angel,” Nyalla commented, looking up the stairs toward the closed bedroom door. “He hasn’t eaten or drunk anything since he arrived.”
Oh shit! I’d forgotten that Dalmai was even here. He hadn’t emerged from the room since he’d began meditating.
“Maybe we should check on him? What if he’s dead or something?” I hoped so. It would make my life a whole lot easier, and free up that bedroom.
“He’s alive. I went in this morning to get a change of clothes, and he was still meditating.”
Stupid angels. “Where have you been sleeping?” They were supposed to rotate usage of the room, but it seems that Dalmai had taken over.
Nils turned an interesting shade of red and gulped down his beer. “The sofa. I’m sleeping on the sofa.”
Nyalla coughed and chewed on her lip to hide a smile. “Yep. He’s sleeping on the couch.”
I frowned. What was so funny about sleeping on the sofa? “Either way, I better go up and make sure he’s not plotting our deaths or turning my spare bedroom into some kind of shrine to Aaru.”
I headed up the stairs, hearing a distinctive giggle from Nyalla and Nils’s low voice in response.
Dalmai was sitting cross–legged in the same pose I’d left him. A few articles of clothing were scattered about the room, most notably a pair of underpants hanging off the end of the angel’s foot. Nils’s underpants, no doubt. That dude would have made a good imp.
“How did you get her to your house without the angels noticing?” he asked.
I knew right away who he was talking about. He
was
a Hunter, after all. “None of your business. Are you planning on doing anything useful around here? Besides sitting on your ass and hogging up one of my guest rooms, I mean.”
“I’m attempting to raise my vibration levels in the hopes of bringing about the salvation of those in this dwelling.” His eyes popped open. “A fruitless endeavor. Demon, Fallen angel, two Nephilim — the only ones worth saving are the humans, and I’m not sure about them. You do realize one is having improper relations with the Fallen angel.”
I shrugged, while my mind raced. Nyalla? Or Harper? I wasn’t sure Harper was ready to get it on with another angel right now, but Nils had put his arm around her in a rather intimate fashion. Seems I was going to have to have a little chat with my newest angel. This was a bit more fallen then I wanted to contemplate.
“Lust is one of my favorite sins. I hope to be banging an angel before the end of the week myself.”
Dalmai stood, brushing imaginary lint off his clothing. Although after several days of non–movement, perhaps he had gotten rather dusty.
“You’re taking the pregnant human to the hidden sanctuary, aren’t you?”
I hoped to, although I still had no idea how I was going to get her there beyond driving like a maniac and hoping for the best.
“Yep. Soon both Nephilim will be out of your reach, and hopefully you’ll be out of my house and back to Aaru.”
His eyelids drooped, shading his thoughts from me. “It won’t be soon enough. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to continue my meditations in peace.”
“Nope. Nils gets the bedroom for the next twenty–four hours. You want to meditate? Do it in the basement.”
His lip curled. “So it’s back to the basement?”
“Sure. With your superior vibration pattern, you should be able to disregard such worldly things as laundry machines and lack of light.”
Dalmai glared and stomped past me to the stairs. He hesitated at the bottom to stare at Harper and Jaq, still in discussion, then headed to the basement and slammed the door.
“Bedroom is all yours,” I told Nils. “Which means no more sleeping on the couch, or doing other things. Got it?”
The angel fidgeted, looking down at his coffee cup. “Got it.”
–20–
F
inally I had the house to myself. Well, sort of. Nils was in his own bedroom, doing whatever a Fallen angel does, Harper in her room planning her future in West Virginia, Nyalla out with some friends, and Dalmai in the basement becoming one with the universe.
So I did what I always do when I’ve got an evening all alone. I pulled out a bottle of vodka, threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave, got buck naked and put on Air Supply’s Greatest Hits. I was jamming away to Making Love Out of Nothing at All and dumping the popcorn into a bowl when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Popcorn went flying, and I spun around to send a jolt of electricity into … Gregory.
“Shit! Sorry about that. I’ve been a bit twitchy lately, what with all the angels attacking my house.”
“Is that the only thing making you twitchy?” His hands rested on my shoulders as his eyes examined my face.
I sorted through the things I’d told him, and the million things I hadn’t. There was plenty to make me twitchy, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to confess all to anyone, even this angel.
“What happened when you were in Hel?”
I knew he wasn’t referring to my most recent visit. My banishment had been the darkest point in my life. The injuries I’d suffered were so extensive that I hadn’t been sure I’d ever be able to create a decent form again. I’d lain in the elven woods, waiting to be found and killed, hoping to be found and killed. Death had begun to seem the better alternative to life as a powerless, immobile creature.
And death had definitely seemed like a better alternative than what I had suffered at Ahriman’s hands. I shuddered, determined not to let my mind go there, and made light of the whole thing. Humor — my best armor.
“I took out that bastard Feille, forcibly negotiated freedom and land for the slave humans, and managed to survive near–fatal injuries. You know, usual stuff. A day in the life of an imp.”
Gregory rubbed his spirit–self along my scars, gently touching each one. I could tell he wasn’t distracted by my casual tone. I held still as he examined every bit of me, feeling safe and warm in this intimacy I’d never willingly allowed another.
“I remember your injuries. I saw them when they were fresh. But there’s pain under these scars, and I don’t know its cause.”
I stiffened, pulling my personal energy away with an involuntary reaction. Ahriman. The memories crashed over me before I had a chance to wrestle them back into their little corner of my mind. I wasn’t ready to discuss that part of my banishment. I wasn’t ready to admit to Gregory that I’d been such a fool as to sign the breeding contract with that creature. I wasn’t ready to admit how close I’d come to losing myself in that dungeon.
But everything fell away in Gregory’s embrace. His touch — physical or otherwise, never caused me a moment of panic. Our views of right and wrong might occasionally differ, our methods of achieving goals might frequently differ, but, in the end, I trusted him completely. There was a giddy sense of freedom in that realization.
I leaned into him and struggled to compose myself. We had all of eternity to heal the scars we both carried. “It’s Hel. Shit is always happening there. My sprouting feathery wings isn’t going to change that.”
“Understandable.”
Unfazed by my sidestepping of his question, the angel knelt down to pick up the pieces of the bowl. I felt no disappointment from him, only openness. I knew he’d be ready to listen anytime I was willing to talk. I
should
be able to tell him — the one being I felt safe with all my secrets.
“I … I did something really stupid.” The words were soft and shaky — just as shaky as my hands. I wanted to cram them into pockets to hide, but I was naked. Naked in more ways than one.
With a sweep of Gregory’s hand, the pottery clicked together seamlessly. “Why does that not surprise me?” His tone was faintly teasing. What I was about to confess was so dark, so serious. Instead of making light of the situation, his words gave me a sense of relief — as if no matter how terrible, problems would be easier when shared with him.
“I signed the breeding contract with Ahriman.”
I felt his rage and stepped backward, even though I knew it wasn’t directed at me. When the angel turned to face me, his black eyes were cold with fear. Anything that scared a six–billion year old angel was bad shit. I took another step back.
“He threatened my household. I meant to tell you, to find a way out of it, but then all the shit went down in Alaska and on Oak Island, and it slipped my mind.”
I winced at the wave of heat surging from Gregory. He was beginning to glow. I backed up a few more steps and tried to get the rest out as quickly as possible, hoping it would be like ripping off a bandaid.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t go through with the breeding. And he’s dead now, so you don’t need to worry about it.”
Gregory shot out a hand lightning fast and yanked me into his chest. The impact drove the breath from my lungs — breath that I gasped back in as his sprit–self plundered mine, searching and seeking.
“I swear I didn’t give him what he wanted. He forced … he made me … but I didn’t give him what he wanted. I know you’re angry at me, that you warned me, but it all turned out okay.”
The angel paused. I glanced up at him, squinting against his bright, blurred form.
“It did
not
turn out okay.”
I froze inside, thinking that maybe this was the one unforgivable thing I’d done that would tear us apart. Gregory dove under the scars, to touch something deep down in the heart of me, something hidden.
“Aaru can deal with whatever Hel throws our way,
this
is what I feared. He has hurt you, scarred you worse than any battle could have done. Whatever death he faced, it was too quick and too painless compared to what I would have done.”
I was speechless, shocked again at how I knew so little about this angel. Instead of being angry over the near miss to his beloved Aaru, he was furious over my suffering at the hands of the ancient demon.
“I’m fine. Those scars will eventually heal, and I’ll be fine.” How did I tell him that loving him did more to blunt the pain and panic Ahriman had caused than any amount of time? If it weren’t for him, I’d probably still be huddled in the swamps. If it weren’t for the portion of himself I’d stolen when he bound me, and the thought of how I wanted to be more than a lowly imp in his eyes, I’d be a broken breeding slave in Ahriman’s dungeon. I might not be fine, but I was on my way there, thanks to him.
Gregory crushed me against him, tangling his hands in my hair. “Who killed him? Did he assume your contract along with Ahriman’s household? Which demon do you belong to now?”
I pulled back in surprise, getting the distinct impression that my angel was about to brave the fires of Hel to kill any demon who had the poor judgment to claim me.
“I killed him. Dusted that fucker into a little pile of sand the moment I got my wings. His household is mine now, along with his monstrosity of an Addams’ Family house filled with furniture made out of dead shit.”
The relief that poured from him was palpable, as was the pride. “My little Cockroach. I should have known. There’s a reason you earned the title of Iblis.”
‘Earned’ wasn’t exactly the right term. That damned sword, and the job that went along with it, had attached itself to me like gum to the bottom of my shoe. There was no ridding myself of it now. Still, Gregory’s words warmed my heart. I buried my face into his chest and hid my smile against the soft cotton of his polo shirt. He hugged me tight, and then released me.
Back to business
, I thought as he picked up the popcorn bowl and extended it toward me.
“I came to tell you that there should be no more Hunters as long as the Nephilim’s mother stays hidden. We’ve got more pressing matters in Aaru then harassing a human over an unborn child.”
I took the bowl from him, suddenly not hungry for popcorn. Should I tell him about Bencul and his dead buddies? I’d just bared my soul to him, and I’d vowed to myself that I’d not hide these things from him any longer. Still … four–nine–five reports for killing humans was one thing, taking out a group of angels and sending one into Hel was another. I doubt naked and restrained would be my punishment for that. This was far worse than netting an angel and duct taping him in my basement.