Demons of Desire (38 page)

“Make sure you get rid of the head and that body.” Irix motioned toward the elf corpse. “You don’t want the vampires to find it and make the connection between this elf and you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Irix took the scroll from his waistband and unrolled the parchment. Surprisingly, the paper and the ink were unaffected by the pounding rain. “Swear to me you’ll go back to safety with the vampires, and keep yourself well–fed and healthy until I see you again.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear on all the souls I Own that I’ll keep myself safe and healthy until I see you again.”

He laughed, knowing full well how meaningless the oath was. Even so, this affirmation of my demon–half pleased him, and his smile warmed my heart. “Until later, my little half–breed.”

“Until later.”

He spoke the words of the scroll, and disappeared in a flash of light. I felt oddly bereft, standing in the rain with only the water–logged headlights of the Cadillac for illumination. Shrugging the torn leather jacket back over my soaked shoulder, I located the elf’s head and threw it into the swamp along with his body. The alligators would find it long before any human, let alone vampire, did. That done, I left the Cadillac and jogged down the roadway to find Ourson’s Corolla.

Following a sharp bend in the road, I saw the shape of it ahead, along with something else that glowed like a thousand spotlights. Between me and my getaway car stood an angel.

40

I
froze, unable to even breathe. Part of my brain had decided that if I held very still, like a rabbit, the angel wouldn’t see me. The figure of light wasn’t myopic enough to miss a drenched, muddy woman standing in the middle of a roadway. With a flash, she was before me, thankfully dimming her wincingly bright glow to something just a few degrees beyond a night–light.

Still, my feet refused to move. My heart beat frantically, and I waited for my death to come. Would she blast me apart with some kind of energy? Lop off my head as I’d heard they always did to demons?

“
Gothnel daega fae–linna y willenthall
.”

Huh? Her words weren’t the scratchy hum that Irix sometimes spoke. This sounded like the Elven language I’d heard so much of this week. Could this angel possibly have mistaken me for a full elf as the gate guardian had done? As bedraggled and dirty as I was?

It was time to wing it.

“We should speak English out of courtesy for the humans that claim this land.”

My voice chimed out low and melodic, in harmony with the soft rain. The angel tilted her head, silvery curls swinging low over her shoulder.

“But there are no humans hereabouts. They are all safely in their homes, hiding from the rain and wind as they always do.”

True. I scrambled to come up with some other plausible reason for keeping the conversation in English.

“This is my custom. I’d be deeply grateful if you would humor me.”

The angel nodded respectfully, blue eyes wide as they stared unnervingly into mine. “Of course. Dearest
fae–linna
, on behalf of the angelic host, I welcome you. We have longed for the day that you would return to our fold. The humans here will benefit greatly from the presence of elves, and we will guide you in your path to higher vibration.”

She didn’t make any more sense in English than she did in Elven. All I knew was that the humans would
not
have benefited from the presence of that elf asshole I’d just served up to the alligators, and I truly didn’t want to be on this woman’s path to higher vibration — whatever that meant.

I inclined my head in a gracious nod and frantically wondered when this angel was going to leave so I could get in Ourson’s car and hightail it back to Bliss as fast as I could. Thankfully, I didn’t have to reply.

“I so dislike to bother you while you are restoring balance to this portion of the land, but I am seeking a demon who has violated the terms of our treaty and befouled this realm with his disgusting and base energy.”

Yeah. I was fucking that demon yesterday morning. That response was likely to get me killed, though. Besides, I wanted to know how much of a fix she had on Irix’s energy. Too much and he might never be able to return.

“I have sensed some disturbing energy in this area and the nearby city.” I waved my hand vaguely toward the bayou. “What sort of demon are you seeking?”

The angel sighed, giving me a charming, self–deprecating smile. “I’m afraid all the human technology and the storm have masked his classification and identity.”

I carefully let out the breath I’d been holding. “I’m so sorry. I must ask for your forgiveness. No doubt my own magic also hindered your ability to identify this trespasser.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. Correcting imbalance and bringing about right order is always a priority. We will find the trespasser and bring him to justice in due time.”

Hopefully not. I looked around at the trees and smiled apologetically at the angel. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties any longer.”

“Oh! And you, yours. Lovely work you’ve done here with these trees. Such harmony, such beauty of purpose. You and your brethren are always welcome. I hope to encounter you again.”

As flattering as it was to have an angel praise my work, I was eager to get away from her.

“Thank you.” I waited for her to disappear and grew increasingly anxious as she remained, staring at me with those fathomless, blue eyes.

“The wind and rain is invigorating. I’m glad to encounter another who respects the power of the storm and does not hide in some flimsy dwelling.”

I held my breath again as her gaze roved over me.

“But why would you wish to remain muddy, with torn clothing and damage to your body.”

Fuck. I remembered Irix telling me that elves never smelled, never had a hair out of place, that they could heal their injuries with a few words. I panicked briefly, and then I remembered something my stepsister, Nyalla, had told me.

“The human technology is out of harmony with my abilities, and I have yet to adjust. I would rather exert my energies on the trees than on the vanity of my personal appearance and clothing.”

The angel reached out a hand to me, and my heart nearly stopped. Her touch was cold, like marble. A white glow streamed into me, like a shot of ice through my veins. Without looking, I knew the knife wound along my side had been healed.

“Travel well, my little sister,” she said with a warm smile.

“Travel well.” I managed to choke the words out as my heart thumped.

With a flash of light, the angel vanished, leaving me momentarily night blind on the deserted road. My knees quivered with the ebb of adrenaline as I staggered to the Corolla and crawled in, sagging with relief against the steering wheel. I wasn’t dead. I’d done magic that an angel thought worthy. And Irix could return — just as soon as he could make it across the gates from Hel safely. Now the only thing left to do was keep my promise to the incubus and return to the safety of the vampires and Bliss.

The car started with a turn of the key. The storm eased from moderate rain to a light drizzle, and I felt the air warm as I turned the car around to head back into the city.

41

I
still hadn’t gotten over how weird it felt to be back in Maryland. This had always been my home, but one week away had changed all that. There had been no word from Irix, and I desperately wanted to return to New Orleans, to close my eyes and remember our time together, to curl up in his bed and try to catch his scent.

All I had were memories and a torn leather jacket. Even the energy he’d shared with me was gone, used on the bayou and in fighting the elf. The small amount I had now was what I’d gathered on my own through carefully chosen encounters.

I felt like another person masquerading as myself. Three weeks had seemed like a lifetime as I numbly went through the motions. My twenty–first birthday, all the joint celebrations with Nyalla, preparations for my senior year — none of it seemed to matter anymore. All I could think about was that week in New Orleans. Irix. Would he ever return? What danger could I be in from the elves who now seemed to have no problem crossing the gates from Hel?

“Can you translate something for me?” I asked Nyalla. My stepsister was curled up on my bed as I packed my bags for college, a stack of mail beside her. Most of it appeared to be travel brochures.

“Sure. What do you think about Aruba?” She waved a glossy tri–fold of aquamarine sea and white beach at me. I couldn’t help but smile; the girl was obsessed with the ocean after her vacation on the Eastern Shore.

“Looks beautiful. I hear there’s some great diving, too.”

She pursed her lips, looking adorably pensive as she contemplated the brochure. “Hmmm. Maybe. So … what did you want me to translate?”

Nyalla had been helping me learn Elvish the past few weeks. I didn’t have much skill with languages, but this one I was willing to put in extra effort to learn. I hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to ask her until now.
“You don’t want to know,”
Irix had said, and I wasn’t sure I did want to know. But it was better to face my enemies with as much knowledge as I could, no matter how much it frightened me.

“What does this mean?” I repeated what the elf had shouted at me at the seawall levee, trying to recreate the pronunciation as best as I could. My sister frowned, repeating a few words for clarification.

“It sounds like ‘Traitor, betrayer of your people and harlot to the demons. You will be lower than the buried corpse in our new world, cursed by all your kind.’” Nyalla’s eyes grew big. “What did you do? I’ve never heard an elf say that kind of thing before, and, trust me, I made them plenty angry when I was a slave there.”

So this was worse than ‘rotted whore’. At least it seemed the elf didn’t realize I was a half–breed. I was being cursed for siding with others against my own kind, and having sex with Irix. As bad as it sounded, being mistaken for a full elf might just be the thing that saved my life. Again.

“Oh, and I almost forgot — this came for you this morning.”

Nyalla handed me an overnight mail envelope. Weird that someone would send something to me at my brother’s girlfriend’s house. I’d never lived there. Wyatt didn’t receive his mail there. As far as I knew, Nyalla and Sam were the only ones who did. I didn’t recognize the scrawl of handwriting on the label, and the return address was indecipherable. Huh.

I tore open the top of the envelope, dumping the contents into my lap. Inside was a sheet of paper and a note. My heart beat out of control as I recognized the bold, dark script.

See you soon
.

Unless he was standing in the doorway, it wouldn’t be soon enough. Still, tears sprang to my eyes. He was thinking of me, planning on returning. I’d wait; I’d wait forever. Opening the other sheet of paper, I realized I wouldn’t have to wait forever, only until March, because it wasn’t a sheet of paper — it was an airline ticket.

An airline ticket to Maui.

About the Author

Debra Dunbar primarily writes dark fantasy, but has been known to put her pen to paranormal romance, young adult fiction, and urban fantasy on occasion. She lives on a farm in the northeast section of the United States with her husband, three boys, and a Noah’s ark of four legged family members. When she can sneak out, she likes to jog and ride her horse, Treasure. Treasure, on the other hand, would prefer Debra stay on the ground and feed him apples.

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Books in the Imp Series:

A DEMON BOUND
(Imp Series, Book 1)

Samantha Martin is an imp, enjoying an extended vacation from Hel. All she wants to do is drink beer by the pool, play mischievous pranks on the humans, and get her hot neighbor in the sack. It’s a relaxing break from her infernal home, as long as she manages to avoid the angels, who won’t hesitate to execute her on sight.

But when her naughty hellhound lands her in trouble with the local werewolf pack, Sam is blackmailed into helping track and catch a killer. The steps she must take to appease the werewolves will put her right in the crosshairs of the angels. And with angels, there is no second chance.

SATAN'S SWORD
(Imp Series, Book 2)

Samantha Martin is an imp, bound by an angel who allows her to live among the humans … as long as she follows his rules. It’s not easy for an imp to follow the rules, especially when Sam’s brother, Dar, finds himself in hot water. He needs her help to retrieve an artifact from the vampires, or the powerful demon he owes a favor to will enslave and torture him for centuries. It should be a simple courier job, but with demons nothing is simple. Sam reluctantly attempts to help her brother, trying not antagonize the vampires or the demon gunning for him, all while chafing to comply with the restrictions her angel has placed on her as a bound demon.

ELVEN BLOOD
(Imp Series, Book 3)

Sam may be the Iblis, but she is also an imp with a price on her head. The powerful demon, Haagenti, won’t rest until she’s dragged back to Hel for “punishment”. Sam knows she can’t face Haagenti and win, so when an Elf Lord offers to eliminate the demon in return for her help, Sam jumps at the chance. It’s a simple job — find and retrieve a half–breed monster dead or alive. But finding this demon/elf hybrid isn’t proving easy and time is running out.

DEVIL’S PAW
(Imp Series, Book 4)

For once no one wants to kill Samantha Martin. She’s free to do all the things a mischievous imp loves to do– like remove all the county speed limit signs, and wrap City Hall in crime scene tape. Her only worry beyond organizing the delivery of her boyfriend’s birthday present, is writing those pesky four nine five reports for the Ruling Council of Angels. But imps can never stay out of trouble for long.