Angel of Chaos (Imp Book 6) (32 page)

“Nils, can you sense if she stayed with him, or if she left from here?”

His eyebrows shot to the heavens. “Why would I know that?”

“Well, because you’ve been fucking her. I saw you with your arm around her. You admitted to not remaining on the couch all night, and Dalmai said you were sinning with her. I figured you may have marked her. Demons do it all the time.”

Nils turned a brilliant shade of crimson. “I’m not a demon. Just because I’m Fallen, doesn’t mean I go around doing that kind of thing.”

Right. “So you weren’t fucking her?”

“No! I wasn’t … that liar! I never had inappropriate contact with Harper. She’s just been betrayed by one of our kind. I would never do that to her, never take advantage of her vulnerability like that.”

I sensed he told the truth, but what the hell had been going on? “Why would Dalmai lie?”

The angel shifted his feet, not meeting my eyes. “Perhaps he thinks that you have claimed the woman as yours and accusing me of … that would incite you to jealous wrath. He
does
want me dead, you know. And you’re the only one who can kill me.”

There was more to this, but I didn’t have time to interrogate my Fallen while Harper was gone. For all I knew, Nils could be right and Dalmai lied. I had claimed Nyalla as part of my household, and with my vow, Harper was as good as mine, too.

Oh shit. Nyalla. I had my second panic attack of the evening. “Where the fuck is Nyalla?”

She hadn’t been in the house or Gregory would have sensed her. Had Dalmai taken both her and Harper? He might be an angel and all that, but managing to kidnap two young, fit girls seemed to be a bit above his skill level.

“Cockroach? You might want to take a look at this.”

Gregory’s voice was odd, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Nils and I crashed through the briars and poison ivy to where he stood and looked down. On the ground was an angel I’d never seen before. A dead angel. And he looked as if someone had gone all Norman Bates on his ass.

Harper. Damn, that woman had mad skills when it came to knives.

“I’ve never seen an angel die like this.” Gregory motioned to the angel’s neck, which was surprisingly clean and free of cuts. “It appears that he had been restrained by that collar device of yours. Your girl removed it post mortem, no doubt to use again.”

Of course. Recycle and reuse. What a great motto.

Nils kicked the bloody angel corpse with a booted toe. “So where are they, and where is Dalmai? They must have done this after he left, or he would have assisted this scum in subduing the women.”

Either the girls had run to safety, or Dalmai had somehow found out about this and recaptured them. Taking the worst–case scenario to heart, I turned and faced Boomer.

“Find Nyalla, boy. Go get her.”

His tail nearly wagged off his body as the hound enthusiastically paced, both heads to the ground while he sniffed. After a few seconds, he lifted one head and bayed. Then he spun about and raced toward the house. I tore off after him, not bothering to see whether Gregory and Nils followed me or not.

The hellhound was around the front of my house in the driveway, waiting patiently for me to catch up. As soon as I got within twenty feet, he trotted along the gravel drive and out to the road. I glanced backward and nearly ran into Gregory and Nils. Fuck, these guys moved silently.

“He broke his vow and left the property.” Gregory sounded more pissed about that than the fact that Dalmai had betrayed us both and severed his allegiance. I remembered how incensed the Ruling Council had been over the thought of humans defaulting on their loans. Angels and their weird priorities — I’d never understand them. Besides, if Boomer was going where I thought he was, then Dalmai hadn’t broken his vow.

“Wyatt is part of my household. I’ve claimed him, therefore his house and property would probably be considered mine under the terms of the oath.”

Gregory scowled. “How would Dalmai know that? He hasn’t seen you and Wyatt together. He wouldn’t be aware of your relationship to him.”

I shrugged and picked up the pace, trying to keep Boomer in sight as he circled the house. Angels had such weird skills in regards to determining household and ownership marks. For all I knew, Dalmai may have sensed that I had claimed this house.

Boomer climbed the steps of Wyatt’s rickety back porch and paused by the screen door. It was partially open. The wooden door behind it swung inward, the handle and lock dangling from splintered wood. Thankfully Wyatt wasn’t home. That was one less human I had to worry about.

They’re both here — Harper and Nyalla
, Gregory told me silently.
They are both unharmed and Harper is still pregnant.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Dalmai was under oath not to physically harm any of mine, but I wasn’t sure if that technically covered the unborn Nephilim or not. I motioned to Gregory to stay back. The angel leaked power like a sieve. Nils and I might go unnoticed by Dalmai, but Gregory certainly wouldn’t.

The Fallen angel and I crept in through the back door, carefully skirting the broken glass and objects strewn across the floor. Clearly there had been a struggle in Wyatt’s kitchen. I glanced over at the gun case and saw it locked. Not that I expected Dalmai to resort to human weaponry, but I wanted to double check, just in case.

Where would he have taken the girls? Somewhere quiet to wait out the arrival of another angel, no doubt. Not the front part of the house. Wyatt may have needed to board up a significant number of windows after the Haagenti incident, but there was still too much glass to provide a safe spot. Not the bedrooms either. I glanced at the door beside the stove and realized the most defensible area of the house would be the cellar. The two windows were thick and below grade, and the only entrance was this door.

Just in case I was wrong, I motioned for Nils to stay and watch while I slowly eased the door open. Damp, earthy aromas hit my nose, and I paused to allow my eyes time to adjust to the dark. Dim, gray light filtered through the grimy cellar windows. Enough to keep the cellar from being pitch–black, but not enough to aid my vision. I eyed the single bulb at the bottom of the steps and weighed the risk of turning it on and alerting Dalmai versus breaking my neck in the dark.

I chose the neck–breaking option. Worn wooden steps creaked as I eased down them, ruining my element of surprise. I should have turned the fucking light on. At this point, yelling “I’m coming” would have been stealthier. Still, in spite of the deafening noise of the stairs, no sound came from below, not even a breath. Were the girls knocked unconscious? If he’d hurt either of them, I’d peel the flesh from his body and boil him in pork fat.

I heard a creak as I stepped off the last stair onto the gray concrete and froze. It came from the left, far back in the recesses of the basement where boxes and ancient paint cans blocked my view and any light. Risking a further chance of discovery, I summoned the sword of the Iblis and tiptoed toward the noise.

Again, I heard it. A scrabbling sound as if a giant mouse were fighting its way out of a Styrofoam cooler. I took another tentative step, and everything went black.

“I’ve got him!” Nyalla yelled.

No, she hadn’t, but before I could correct her, the wind was completely knocked out of my lungs by a hard object impacting my body. The blows rained down on me, and I gasped in pain, hoping Gregory or Nils would hear the commotion and come to my rescue before the two girls beat the living shit out of me.

Then sharp stabs were added to the blows. I heard the basement stairs creak.

“I’ve got him!” Nyalla gleefully repeated her earlier statement.

“Yes, I see that.” Gregory sounded vastly amused. Fucker. “Although the appropriate pronoun would be ‘her’ in this instance.”

“Him, her — this angel isn’t taking my baby,” Harper said in time with the knife to my kidneys.

“True. I doubt the Iblis is interested in taking your baby, though. From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of human infants — living or deceased.”

The blows and stabbing abruptly ceased.

“Oops.”

Yeah. Oops indeed. I squirmed inside the elven net. “Get me the fuck out of here before I bleed to death. Damn it all, Harper. Why do you always have to be so fucking stabby?”

“Sorry, sorry!”

The net lifted, and I looked up at the two girls. I felt like shit, and from the expressions on their faces, I knew I didn’t look much better. Gregory was at the edge of the stairs. Nils, halfway down, was biting back a smile.

“Well, that was vastly entertaining,” Gregory drawled. “From the situation at hand, I gather Dalmai is
not
keeping you two captive in Wyatt’s basement?”

“No.” Nyalla exchanged a wary look with Harper. “I know he’s your angel and all that, but I don’t believe meditation did anything to improve his moral standing.”

“Go on,” Gregory urged. “What exactly happened? I’d like to hear your side of the story before I track down and deliver justice to my former angel.”

I shivered, and Nyalla stared at him with wide eyes before continuing. “I heard a commotion downstairs — Harper screaming and something making a thumping noise, but I couldn’t get out of my room. He’d sealed the door, and I couldn’t break it down — even using the closet rod as a battering ram.”

“I was in the barn, and when I came in, he grabbed me,” Harper chimed in. “He got really angry when whatever angel magic he was using didn’t work on me. I kept screaming, and he tried to slap duct tape on my mouth. I fought him the whole way as he dragged me through the fields. The duct tape came loose pretty soon after we got out of the house. At that point, he seemed more eager to get me into the woods than stop and try to shut me up again.”

“I knotted my bedsheets into a rope and climbed out the window, just like in the movies.” Nyalla was practically vibrating with excitement. “Then I snuck through the field after them. It was easy to stay undetected since Harper was making so much noise screaming and yelling.”

“And Nyalla collared the other angel while Harper sliced him to ribbons.” The girls had the grace to look rather uncomfortable at my summary. “But what happened to Dalmai? Did he run away? Do you have any idea where he went?”

“There.” Harper pointed to the boxes stacked up in the corner. “He went right there.”

Given the condition of the angel in the sticker bushes, it was with great trepidation that I got up and peered behind the boxes. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The collar was the only clean thing on Dalmai. He’d been trussed up with electrical extension cords and had what seemed to be a dirty sock crammed in his mouth. One eye was swollen shut, and his nose was sideways. The angel’s clothing was torn, and blood oozed from deep scratches all over his arms and legs. A particularly deep gash ran diagonally across his side. I had no doubt who had done that one.

“Wow, he’s alive.” I wasn’t being sarcastic. I truly was surprised that the girls hadn’t turned Dalmai into angelic hamburger.

“We figured you might want to interrogate him then throw him into Hel with the other one.”

Dalmai’s one eye grew round at Nyalla’s cheerful statement. I smiled and patted the girl’s shoulder, happy that I’d been such a positive influence on her vibration pattern so far.

“I’ll take care of this.” Gregory pulled the sock from the angel’s mouth and tossed it aside. “Dalmai Haseha Huzia Rami, you have forsaken my household and broken ties with me, but as a member of the Ruling Council, I command that you answer my questions truthfully.”

“I demand that the head of my choir be present to represent me.” The angel’s voice was raspy, but strong. For someone who was tied up and bleeding on a cement floor, he had surprising dignity.

“And who would that be?” Gregory drawled.

“Chabriel.”

“Who the fuck is Chabriel?” I whispered to Gregory. Must be either Sleazy or New Guy, unless there had been a reassignment in the last few days.

“Seventh choir.”

Seventh. There were seven of us on the Ruling Council, including the empty spot for Uriel. That meant I must have a choir assigned to me. Of course, it must be solely populated with the Fallen, since no angel of reputable vibration pattern would want to be in the angelic equivalent of Satan’s household.

Gregory reached out and tugged one of the electrical cords that bound the angel, jerking Dalmai forward. “Normally I would grant your request, but as you didn’t follow proper procedure in changing choirs, I am electing to refuse.”

“Statute five, article three allows me to leave the choir of any angel whose vibration levels have fallen below an acceptable level, or who I have personally witnessed violating angelic law and/or purity standards.”

I caught my breath, waiting for Gregory to explode in his customary burst of temper. Instead, my angel appeared composed and under control.

“True. So Chabriel is aware of your accusations? You’ve petitioned him and been approved into his choir?”

Dalmai paled, his one good eye swiveling to look at me in terror. I had no idea what I had to do with all this bureaucratic nonsense. No doubt I was about to find out.

“I have petitioned. It’s under review. Surely I would be granted temporary membership under the circumstances.” There was a pleading note to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Probably,” Gregory tapped his chin. “We’ll put it on the agenda for the next Ruling Council meeting, and I’m sure they’ll vote to grant you temporary membership into the seventh choir.”

The angel began to shake. “These are special circumstances. I request asylum in the seventh circle — immediate asylum.”

Gregory raised his eyebrows. He seemed to be enjoying this weird conversation far too much. If Dalmai had been one of mine, I would have jumped straight to physical torture.

“I’m afraid not. As an unaffiliated angel, you will fall into the fifth choir.”

“No! I’m not Fallen. You can’t assign me to a choir that I haven’t petitioned.”

Ah, now I understood the angel’s fear.

“Yay!” I clapped my hands. “I’m the fifth choir. Now that you’re mine, let’s cut with all the stupid talk of statutes and petitions and get right to the torture.”