Imp Forsaken (Imp Book 5) (12 page)

“Wait,” I called after him. He stopped and retraced his steps. “Why did Taullian trade two sorcerers for
me
? His need for vengeance can’t be so strong that he would weaken his kingdom to see me suffer.”

Kirby thought then shook his head. “He knows how erratic you are—like chaos personified. We all think he plans to throw you at Feille to distract and occupy him while he’s launching some sort of attack. It’s not good strategy that I can see, but then again, we’re not exactly prepared for war. We might be wrong, though. Possibly he thought Feille was going to take the sorcerers anyway and he might as well get something out of the deal?”

And that “something” would be a chance to get back at one of his least favorite demons? I doubted I was worth two sorcerers. I thought on Kirby’s words as he left. Maybe Taullian did have some elaborate plot up his sleeve. But why did the high elf heal me in the dungeon? Why had he continued to feed me and ensure a reasonable amount of comfort in transit? Why wasn’t he flaying the flesh from my bones right now? Did he really intend to catapult me at Feille like some kind of demon warhead? That would really suck, given my current, broken state. But it may… it just may play into this crazy idea I had brewing.

I didn’t have long to wait before Taullian himself came to visit.

He stared at me though the bars. I stared back, wondering who would be the first to break, the first to speak. Imps are not well known for their patience.

“Feille, huh? I’d heard you were a weak ruler, but I never imagined you’d bow down to Wythyn without so much as an arrow fired. You have truly made a deal with the devil.”

He smiled. It was genuine, but it never reached his eyes. “I haven’t yet, but I’m about to.”

“And what good am I? A diversion to make you happy in your remaining days? Torturing me is your idea of a last meal for a condemned high lord?”

He sighed and shook his head as he watched me. “My father would roll over in his grave if he knew what I’m about to do. ‘Never trust the demons’, he always told me, and yet here I am, about to negotiate with the demon I trust the least.” He shrugged, the smile twisting at one corner of his mouth. “As the humans say, ‘the devil you know’.”

Negotiate? Well, that sounded a whole lot more promising than torture and execution. “I’m all ears.”

He glanced briefly at my ears, then scowled. “Not funny, Ni. Not in the least bit amusing.”

Ni. Short for Niyaz, my childhood name. No one called me that anymore, besides Leethu. The name triggered a wave of memory from my childhood—of rolling in the mud at the edge of the swamps, of hiding in Oma’s house from my cruel foster siblings, of frolicking with brave elf children in the woods. Shit. That little elf boy I’d played with all one summer, letting him chase me and shoot me with arrows.

“I didn’t mean to bite part of your ear off,” I said slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. If I was right, no wonder he didn’t trust me. “I was just a child, an overexcited child. There was no malice in what I did.”

He waved a hand. “I know. Demons will be demons. My father warned me to stay away from you, but I was curious. I liked you, and I wanted the other elves to see how brave I was, chasing demon young through the woods.”

“I kept looking for you,” I told him honestly. “I’d hoped you would come back to play again.”

Taullian shook his head, his eyes hard as they met mine. “No. You may have not intended to kill me, but you would have. There is too much risk dealing with demons. Their emotions rule their actions, any loophole in a deal will be exploited, and treachery is inevitable. I learned my lesson that summer long ago. Well, I thought I did, but even after your betrayal with the demon spawn this winter, I’ve returned to deal with you again.”

I sighed. This was going to be very one-sided. He’d never trust me, and the whole situation over the elf/demon hybrid job wasn’t exactly putting me in a good light.

“So what do you want me to do in return for my life and freedom?”

“Help me kill Feille.”

I laughed. Laughed until tears spilled down my cheeks. It’s what I’d planned on doing anyway, but a good demon never gave away any bargaining chips. “You’re fucking kidding me! I’m broken. I could bleed to death from a paper cut. How do you envision I perform this assassination?”

Taullian frowned. “You exploded his dungeon, killing two elves. You crushed his sorcerer’s head with your bare hands.”

“I used a rock that had fallen from the ceiling,” I corrected. “And the explosion wasn’t me.”

Well, not intentionally me. Whatever that sorcerer had done with the demon raw energy had triggered it. I simply facilitated, and lucked out that it had any kind of destructive effect.

“It took three guards to take you down. You’d overpowered Feille and were throttling him.”

“Uhhh, no. The guards were stuck on the other side of a melted dungeon door. Feille smacked the shit out of me with his staff, then roped me with a bunch of vines he grew out of the stone floor and proceeded to beat the shit out of me again.”

Taullian leaned close to the bars. I noted they didn’t sizzle for him. “I’ve seen you in action, Az. There may be some doubt as to whether you are the Iblis or not, but you’re one fierce fighter. You play dirty, throw yourself into a battle like your life means nothing. Feille fears you. I fear you. Nearly every elf in the six southern kingdoms fears you.”

I threw out my hands in frustration. What part of broken did this guy not understand? “Fine. I’ll put it on my to-do list. Anything else? Endless riches? Eternal life? The universe at your feet?”

“Help me restore the kingdoms.”

I’d been joking about that universe thing. I stared at him a moment. “You want to take Feille’s place? Rule over six instead of one?”

Now it was Taullian’s turn to laugh. His was short and bitter. “I want to, but I doubt I can. I don’t have his force of will. I’m weak. I can barely hold my own kingdom together.”

“Your guards seem to respect you. Your humans speak highly of you.” I remembered my conversation with Kirby at the party, how he’d gone on and on about how progressive Taullian was, how the kingdom was surprisingly kind when it came to their laws regarding the treatment of humans. And although he’d admitted Taullian was no warrior just now, he still seemed to hold him in high regard. They were treated like shit, as Nyalla had been, but at least they didn’t suffer as bad as in the other kingdoms.

“Elves respect force and power. And humans… well, they don’t matter.”

“They do,” I argued. “’They’re clever and resilient, and they accomplish great things in collaboration with each other. You must have a thousand humans here. Give them equality and see how hard they fight for you, see what kind of army you have.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Humans? They are cowards. Even my mages and sorcerers, skilled as they are, won’t assert themselves in the least.”

“Perhaps they are convenient cowards. Give them your respect and friendship, treat them as peers and see how brave they really are.”

He stood abruptly, spinning on his heel to leave. “Demons lie. And humans are weak cowards.”

“One attacked an angel for me,” I shouted after him. He halted halfway to the door, his back still toward me. “To save me. He is my friend, my lover, and he attacked not just any old angel, but one of the Ruling Council.”

Taullian turned. I couldn’t read his expression from the distance.

“To save me,” I repeated. “Because I treat him as an equal. I treat him with love, respect, and friendship. I have other humans who would do the same, humans I call my friends. If a demon can inspire this, you can too.”

He stood in the dim light of the dungeon watching me, faint light from the illuminating globes dancing off the silver and gold embroidery on his clothing. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath then he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him with a careful ‘snick’.

Kill Feille. Maybe in a few centuries, when I’d regained whatever of my powers I could, but not now. But it had to be now. I had no time to wait, no time to grow strong. The humans, the elves, the demons—it would all be lost if I waited. I looked down at my body, clothed in a borrowed shirt and pants from the elves. I’d extoled the strengths of the humans to Taullian, now it was time to put my money where my mouth was. I might be no better than a human right now, but I was still me on the inside, where it counted. I had to do this. For the humans, for demons who didn’t give a shit about me, for elves who hated me. I had to do this, because some things were worth dying for.

I thought about Kirby’s marble. If I could just get Feille alone, surprise him at a moment when he’d let his guard down, I might be able to kill him. I was good at killing, and it would be a great feeling to have Feille’s neck snap under my hands. I think even Wyatt would approve.

Yes. I’d kill that asshole of an elf lord. As far as restoring Taullian’s kingdom, that was his job. Without Feille, there’d be a scramble for power. Every elf for himself. If Taullian couldn’t pull his shit together for his own people, then he didn’t deserve the crown on his head. But the humans… they deserved more. And I’d help them if it was the last thing I did.

11

M
eandering cobblestone streets separated the weathered brownstone row houses and provided a quaint ambiance of yesteryear. They also acted as an effective speed deterrent, Gabriel noted as he watched the cars inch along, vibrating even at slow speed on the uneven terrain. Pedestrians walked by, eyes downward to avoid an ankle sprain. It was especially amusing to watch the female humans in their high heels tip-toeing across the street. This town looked the same as when he’d last visited it a thousand years before—maybe a little bigger, certainly much less odiferous. Not that he could smell much of anything with his purposely inhibited sensory organs. All the better to avoid the temptations of the corporeal world.

Gabriel approached a table and sat down opposite an olive-skinned man whose dark brown hair was combed back, curling at the edge of his shirt collar. This angel was better than most at reproducing a human form, and that alone made Gabriel suspicious. He too could produce a convincing form, but there was a price. Driving his spirit so far into the flesh, committing himself so fully, created a painful sensory overload. Eventually, angels could get used to it; come to enjoy it even, but it threw them off balance. It pushed them away from their righteous center, and it made all those forbidden things so hard to resist.

He recognized this angel as one of Uriel’s, and not a minor member either. He’d petitioned to change from Sidreal’s choir to his current one a few centuries back. It was typical for angels to make strategic moves as they gained prominence, and the third choir was known for being one of the more welcoming. This particular angel was one to watch. There had been talk of his potential candidacy for a Ruling Council slot in the next hundred years or so.

“Tura. Where’s Uriel?”

He was making a joke about his sibling’s fondness for coffee shops and was surprised to see Tura stiffen, his hand white on his coffee cup.

“He’s not here. Did you expect him?” Tura relaxed back into his chair, the movement oddly forced.

“
She
. Uriel seems to fancy being female lately.”

Tura shrugged. “Really? I haven’t seen him… err, her in a long time.”

Was that a lie? Gabriel watched the angel toy with his coffee cup and decided to let it pass. Angels didn’t often see the heads of their choirs on a regular basis. Even though Tura seemed strangely nervous at the mention of Uriel’s name, Gabriel wasn’t here to interrogate him. Not at the moment, anyway. This visit was all about information, and he wouldn’t get any if he took a hardline approach with this angel.

“I’ve heard you have some interest in our project.” Tura continued. “We could use a supporter at your level. An angel on the Ruling Council giving it his backing would make things happen faster.”

“It’s a far-fetched notion. A fantasy that will only end in madness and broken dreams.” Gabriel waved his hand, turning his face from the other angel dismissively. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager.

“But here you are.” The words hung in the air.

Gabriel observed the cars rumble slowly by. One small and blue vehicle had four grown men stuffed into it, their heads practically hitting the roof with each bump. Where were they going? Sharing a ride to work? Heading off to some sporting event? The angel shook his head, irritated at his own curiosity about human lives. Slowly he turned to face Tura.

“Yes. Here I am.” It was a fine line, dancing between interest and aloofness—draw him forward, push him back.

They sat in silence, Tura rubbing a finger along the edge of his coffee cup, Gabriel looking about with casual interest at the other café patrons. With a sigh, the younger angel put his cup down and reached for something under the table. Gabriel couldn’t help a quick smirk of amusement. If this were a human across the table from him a thousand years ago, he would have expected him to pull a knife. But Tura was an angel, and above the need for human weaponry, and he was too smart to try anything against one of the Ancient. No, to go up against even one of the brothers, an angel needed an army at his back.

Instead of a knife, Tura pulled out a glass tube and slide it across the table toward Gabriel who picked it up and admired the iridescent green swirl that churned about inside.

“Genie in a bottle,” he mused, feeling the instant pull of attraction.

Except the demon wasn’t in a bottle but some strange glass tube. There had been times when human magic users had been able to bind demons, pull their spirit selves out of a corporeal form and house them captive in a vessel. He’d always found it quite amusing. Usually they snared the imps and tricksters, the ones whose curiosity left them open to capture. Sometimes the demon would remain there for decades, centuries even, until whichever human owned them at the time accepted their bargain for release. Favors. Everything came down to favors with the demons, usually in the form of three wishes. Sadly, the humans were too much like their captives and often wound up dead and Owned following the genie’s release.