Angel of Chaos (Imp Book 6) (35 page)

I kept shooting as fast as I could. The blasts of white from the angels burned through my flesh and bone. Time seemed to slow as I dropped to my knees. Time — had I bought the Lows enough time to get away until they went back to Hel? It seemed like only seconds had passed since I rounded that building. Another blast took off my leg, and I raised the shotgun as a shield, trying to block as many of their shots as possible. If I could just keep their attention a little while longer… .

Something large and black flew through the air in front of me, knocking angels down like bowling pins. I recreated my form with a snap and blinked in surprise to see a shiny, black cannon muzzle rolling to a stop against a tree. The angels appeared just as shocked as I was. They were staggering to their feet when an airborne 1993 Nissan Maxima plowed into half a dozen of them. I looked across the street into a grassy park and saw Hack. The little Low might not be powerful in demon skills, but he could bench press a small building. A large bolder followed the sedan then Hack wrapped his arms around a nearby oak and yanked. The angels still standing turned to Hack and shot, exploding the tree and sending the Low backward in a spray of wood chips and blood.

“Hey, that was my car! This isn’t a movie.”

No shit. Angels trying to kill demons and a naked woman with a shotgun. Sorry, Hollywood just isn’t that creative. I opened fire again, and the angels decided I was more of a threat than a Low. We’d just started our dance of death, Hack joining in by lobbing chunks of wood, when I saw Radl and Pustule run from the cover of their building. One brandished a metal pipe, and the other had a board full of nails. What the fuck were they doing? This was suicide.

Three angels turned to face Radl and Pustule, one toward Hack, and the other ten kept firing at me. White streamed through the air as my Lows ducked and dodged. Again, I hit the ground, my attention divided between my crazy demons and my own defense. I saw Radl dive to the left, just as one of the angels shot. The energy crackled on a direct path to him. I felt searing pain in my arm. Radl’s eyes widened with fear, then … nothing. The blast of white exploded into the ground, rock and dirt flying. They were gone. All my Lows had vanished, and finally I could stop worrying about them and start worrying about myself.

The angels pivoted in confusion, searching for the demons. I took that moment of reprieve to recreate my form, jump to my bare feet and take off like every angel in Aaru was after me.

The buildings along High Street were packed close together. I ran, weaving in and out of stores, through alleyways, and over fences. None of the angels seemed to have Gregory’s concern for human witnesses or their property. I never looked back, but I could hear screams and the crash of breaking pottery and glass. Seeing my chance, I darted across High Street and up a hill. My lungs screamed with the steep climb across what seemed to be a neatly manicured, tree–lined park. I hoped I’d lost them. I didn’t leak energy. If I could just get out of sight, get somewhere they’d never think to look for me, then I’d be safe. I know Gregory gave me his speech about ‘no more rocks’ and all that shit, but sometimes the best thing a cockroach could do was hide.

I had my head down, eyes focused on powering up the insanely vertical incline filled with half–hidden rocks. My ears were straining to hear any sound of pursuit, but I could hear nothing beyond my heart pounding. Distracted, I nearly ran into a stone wall, putting my palms flat on it to steady myself. The buzz of energy that went through me was uncomfortable, but not painful. What the fuck was this wall?

I dragged in a much–needed lungful of air and raised my eyes. The stone wall was topped with an iron fence. And behind it, a church — a granite, neo–Gothic style church with red sandstone trim and white crosses at every roof point. A road ran along beside it, and a set of stairs with an ugly iron railing paralleled the grassy hill I’d just come up.

Well, that’s one place the angels would never think to look for me.

I jumped, grabbed the bottom of the iron fence and scrambled up it, flashing my ass to whoever happened to be looking. The sharp points on top grazed my thighs as I swung over, leaving long bloody scratches. I didn’t want to risk fixing them and revealing the slightest energy signature, so I bled down my legs as I hurried through the archway and wrestled open the door.

Walking over the threshold was like being doused in icy water. A small electric charge ran through me, and I yelped, the sound magnified by the vaulted roof. Someone had warded the church, making me wonder whether they’d had problems with demons in the past. None of my household would be able to enter, but I was a sort–of angel. It hurt like fuck, but I was at least allowed entry.

It was pretty — glossy wooden pews and gold trim on the white ceiling. I didn’t often enter churches. They were great fun to cover in graffiti, and disrupting a service was one of my favorite activities, but they always made me uncomfortable. I got the same vaguely itchy sensation as I did when I was in Aaru. I’d gotten used to that, so I shrugged off the feeling and washed the worst of the blood off my legs using the bowl of water someone had helpfully left smack in the middle of the aisle.

Unfortunately, no one had left any towels to dry myself off with. I looked around, searching for curtains or even a couch cushion, before giving up and dripping bloody water all over the floor as I hid in a central pew.

I can’t imagine why humans would subject themselves to this sort of thing. The pews were hard and so narrow I could barely lie down without falling off. There was no clock in the place either, so I had no idea how long I’d been squirming around on my uncomfortable bed of wood. After what seemed like an eternity, I carefully cast around for angel energy signatures. I found a group of at least twenty and sighed, wondering how long I was going to be holed up in this church. The only water was now too bloody to drink, and there was nothing to eat. Great, I was going to starve to death in a church — be found dead and naked, curled up on a hard wooden pew by some nun.

Engrossed in my pity party, I almost missed it. An energy signature I recognized. The one energy signature that would send me racing, naked, wet and bloody, cradling a shotgun, out of the protection of a church and into clear view of twenty angels.

“Cockroach?”

Gregory’s black eyes weren’t the only ones staring at me in astonishment when I appeared at the entrance to the church. Yeah, this wasn’t exactly going as planned. I was supposed to look dignified and fierce, with a ‘legion’ of powerful demons behind me as I made my demands. Instead, I looked like the sole survivor of a grisly horror movie.

“Umm, the Nephilim and werewolves are mine. Because they’re sort of Fallen, and that’s my job. So because of statute forty–three, article two, you can’t kill them or harass them in any way.”

Shit. So much for that. I couldn’t even manage the ‘mighty Iblis’ rhetoric that I’d spouted off in Aaru, and in front of Gabriel. This whole thing was fucked.

Gabriel took a step forward. “There are eight dead angels down on the road. The humans are in a panic. There’s a cannon and an upside–down human conveyance in front of a pottery store.”

I took a deep breath. Fucked, but when you’re in a hole this deep, it’s best to keep on digging. “Yes, and that’s what happens when you attack me or those I’ve claimed. Death, panic, and general mayhem.”

“Someone attacked you?” Gregory’s voice brimmed with fury, but I was too pissed over the turn of events to be flattered.

“No, you idiot, I always walk around looking like this.”

His eyebrows raised as he took in my appearance. Okay, I guess I often
did
walk around naked and bloody. I expected him to call me on it, but, instead, he said something that made me love him even more.

“Brother, we clearly have enough to handle with our issues in Aaru — rogue bands of angels attacking the Iblis and her household, angels breaking the treaty with the demons, angels sinning with the humans, angels plotting to take Aaru by force.”

Gabriel nodded. “I don’t have time to deal with this nonsense. Let her have them. They’d suffer worse at her hands than the merciful death they’d receive at ours.”

“I agree.” Gregory waved a hand as if he were some sort of royalty. The Nephilim and their descendants, formerly known as the werewolves, will be subject to oversight by the Iblis and fall under her control pending a formal vote by the Ruling Council at our next meeting.”

The angels murmured among themselves as they disappeared one by one. Wow, that was easy. If only this could have happened without all the earlier shit — although knowing I killed eight more angels was rather satisfying.

Gregory walked up the church steps and gathered me in his arms.

“Are you okay?” His spirit–self was making quite sure I was okay, checking every last bit of me, so I didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead I let him support me, feeling drained now that it was all over. Not that it was truly over. I had a Fallen at home in a male chastity device, an angel that needed further punishing, a randy human girl, and a knife–happy pregnant woman. And now I also had a whole bunch of Nephilim and werewolves to deal with. Plus all the shit in Hel.

And Chabriel. Yeah, he was first on my to–do list.

I sighed and pulled back from Gregory, hating to leave his arms and get back to business. “I don’t think Dalmai is our only traitor.”

“Chabriel and his choir attacked you?”

“Yeah. Somehow he knew I’d be here and was poised and ready when we arrived — early, I guess?”

Gregory nodded, glancing at his cell phone. “About half an hour early by my reckoning.”

Fucking watch. My Lows would have been long gone by the time they arrived, even without the ambush. Waste of a perfectly good spell, damn it.

“Who do you think alerted Chabriel? Dalmai would be unable to contact him. No one else knew the exact time except for the werewolves.”

It had to be one of them. I’d deal with that later. Right now I needed to see Chabriel’s wings on a platter — hopefully covered in spicy Thai sauce.

“It’s too much to hope that one of those piles of sand down there is him, is it? I could sense his energy signature, but didn’t actually see him in the fight.”

“No. Gabriel examined the dead and would have mentioned it if one was a member of the Ruling Council. I’m sure he’s safely back in Aaru, plotting your demise, Cockroach.”

“So how do I kill him? Wait for the next meeting and blow him to bits from across the Marriott conference room table? Lure him to my house by telling him I’m hosting all of the Nephilim at a pool party?”

“You can’t kill him, Cockroach. Self–defense is a gray area, assassination is not.”

Angels were no fun. “Okay, I’ll just throw him through the gate to Hel. Same excuse as that Bencul guy — he orchestrated an attack on me, and if left to go free, he’ll do it again.”

“You’re going to have to pay dearly for doing it once. I won’t allow you to do that a second time.”

It probably wasn’t a great idea anyway. Chabriel was powerful enough to fight his way through a good many demons. I could see him taking up with the elves and deciding to be the next ruler of Hel. There were enough problems back home for me to deal with — no sense in adding that one to the mix.

“Fine. How about a gate to somewhere else? Aerie? Ooh, or that one in Waynesboro that goes to nowhere — Jell–O gate!” The idea of Chabriel being slowly suffocated and dissolved was vastly appealing.

“Cockroach, you may be the Iblis but you can’t kidnap a Ruling Council member and send him to his death. These things must be dealt with in the proper manner. You’ll lodge a complaint with your accusations. We’ll put it on the agenda. If he’s found to be at fault, he’ll suffer punishment.”

“But he attacked me!” I gave the angel my best helpless look, even squeezing a few drops of liquid from my eyes. Gregory wasn’t fooled.

“Then make him suffer.” The angel’s eyes glowed like black fire. “You’re an imp. Torturing us is one of your special skills.”

–31–

Y
ou ready?” Raphael’s grin nearly engulfed his face. I’d never seen him this excited before.

I looked around my living room, ensuring everything was in place, both for transport and for when I returned. “Yep. Thanks for helping me out, by the way.”

“My pleasure.” He handed me a piece of parchment. It included an angel’s name, sigil, strengths and weaknesses, as well as hobbies and interests. “Think you’ll be able to find a match for her?”

“Oh absolutely.” I had at least five Lows coming to visit. Presenting them as likely suitors to this angel was going to make for a very entertaining week.
Enjoys long contemplative walks through the third circle
, I read. Riiiiiight. Perhaps Hack would be a good fit. I owed him for throwing shit at the angels.

“How many have you got in there?” Raphael knelt down in front of the gate, extending a finger toward the bars. A snapping set of jaws nearly removed the digit.

“Fifty. They’re really pissed because they’re wedged in so tight. Should make for even more fun.”

Durfts. I never did manage to find Fred, who had escaped in the wilderness outside of Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, but I’d scrounged up these guys in Hel, lickity split.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to see it,” Rafi commented.

“You’ll get an eyeful of the aftermath.” There were good reasons Rafi wouldn’t be able to witness my little prank. I needed him to be my transportation, for one.

“Let’s go.”

Rafi opened his arms wide in a gesture that reminded me so much of his brother. I hesitated for a second, not sure how Gregory would feel about my traveling around with his brother hugging me. I was a demon, though, and if this hot angel wanted to feel me up a bit, I wouldn’t say no. Besides, the idea of a jealous Gregory beating the shit out of Rafi made me rather breathless.

This younger brother wasn’t as broad or as muscular as my angel, but his arms felt good wrapped around my waist, and the wavy locks brushing my face were as soft as silk. He respectfully kept his spirit–self from touching mine, although I could tell he wanted to. Too soon we were in the emptiness of Aaru, and Rafi was stepping back from me.