Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (15 page)

“Please, Ni–ni, as my sister, as my Iblis, I ask this of you. I will owe you many favors—put myself and my household under yours—anything.”

I sighed. This was getting to be a regular thing with me. “You are now part of my household, you and all your associates, possessions, and assets. In return, I will protect you from both the elves and angels and negotiate with the elves on your behalf.”

She launched herself at me, rubbing her glorious silky skin against mine as her mouth trailed down my neck. Mmmm, little bites, a pinch of nails on the inside of my thighs. Mmmm, I was soooo tempted.

I grabbed her hair and pulled her up for a kiss, tasting the copper of her blood as her tongue tore on my broken teeth. Reluctantly, I held her away.

“I’ve got to go see Wyatt.” Was that my voice, all husky and choked?

“Bring him back, Ni–ni,” she said, pushing herself into my arms and nuzzling my neck again. “I’ll express my gratitude.”

The short walk over to Wyatt’s house did nothing to cool my raging libido. I needed to resolve this fast and get Leethu back home or all I’d be doing was fucking all the time. Which would not be very productive.

Wyatt’s house always looked the same. An ancient Cape Cod style that he’d done nothing to fix up since he’d bought it almost three years ago. The elderly couple that owned it before him hadn’t been able to keep up with even basic maintenance, and Wyatt was continuing their tradition. I went to walk up to the front door and hit an invisible wall. Michelle was right; this really
was
going to suck.

“Wyatt!” I shouted. My cell phone was still in the house and I was reluctant to go back, especially with Leethu waiting, full of bored frustration. “Wyatt!”

I picked up some rocks and began throwing them at his door, careful to avoid the windows. Wyatt wouldn’t bother to get them fixed and there were enough bits of plywood nailed over openings. One more and the county would probably condemn the place. I threw some bigger rocks. I really needed to talk to Michelle about this loophole. Even if demons couldn’t get in, they clearly could pitch physical objects at the house. Wyatt wouldn’t be very safe if demons demolished his house by lobbing construction equipment at it.

Finally he answered the door. “Sam, why are you out there? Just come on in. Oh, yeah.”

He padded out on the cold walkway with bare feet to meet me, halting ten feet away and staring at me in shock.

“You’ve got to come out further,” I told him. “The wall is right here.” I really wanted to feel his arms around me. And more, since Leethu had stirred up a whole lot of lust.

“Sam, what happened to you?” He came all the way to me, his eyes getting big. “You’re covered in blood, and your forehead looks like someone surgically implanted a grapefruit in it.”

Oh crap. “I got knocked off Diablo coming back and forgot to fix myself.”

I quickly fixed everything, although my shirt and jeans were still torn and bloody. Then I grabbed Wyatt tight, burying my face in his chest and telling him all about elf high lords, my narrow escape, and Diablo’s plight. Everything felt right in Wyatt’s arms. His shirt rubbed against my cheek, and I breathed him in, relishing the feel of his hands stroking my back. Suddenly my situation didn’t seem so hopeless, or insurmountable. We were partners in crime; together we could accomplish anything. We’d find this demon hybrid, whether it was dead or alive, and get Haagenti off of our backs for good.

“I was worried about you, Sam,” he said, rubbing his face in my hair. “I actually went into your house to try and get your mirror when you didn’t come back last night. Leethu was on me like a shot. I barely made it out the door with my virtue intact.”

“Have you had any more run–ins with demons?” I asked, looking him over carefully for any damage.

“I hit one with my truck last night coming home from The Eastside Tavern. I think there are still bits of him inside my wheel well. I put the body in a bag and stuck it behind my shed, but it was gone this morning.”

Boomer.

“I may have a way to get us out of this mess,” I told him. “This elf lord, Taullian, wants me to find a hybrid for him, and in return he’ll kill Haagenti.”

“Sam, that’s great. What kind of hybrid does he want? Horse? Dog? Or is he more of a cat person?”

Wyatt thought Taullian was pet shopping. How funny.

“Uh, no. Seems Leethu knocked up an elf woman and he wants me to retrieve the offspring.”

Wyatt looked confused. “I didn’t think elves did that sort of thing. Nice that he wants to bring the child back into the fold though.”

“Uh, no. He wants it dead.”

I felt Wyatt tense against me. He adored Boomer, and although he wasn’t particularly fond of Diablo, he wouldn’t want to see him killed.

“I spoke to the mother, and she assured me that when she realized the baby was a hybrid, she killed it and sent the body over as a changeling. So I’m probably looking to dig up a corpse and return it for proof.”

The likelihood that the offspring was alive had increased in probability after my discussion with Leethu, but I figured Wyatt would be more accepting of corpse retrieval than finding and killing a hybrid.

“She
killed
it?” Wyatt was outraged. “She killed her own child? Because it was different? It wasn’t elven enough? What kind of sick person does that?”

Wyatt let go of me and began to pace, his anger building. I wasn’t sure where all this was coming from, why he was suddenly so upset. What was the big deal?

“I hate these elves. Setting traps for humans to fall through, and then making them slaves. Stealing human babies. I know they’re treated reasonably well, that they don’t lack for basic needs and are educated. I know that human children and adults here are often worse off, but it’s still
wrong
! And now this? A mother casually ends her child’s life, just because it’s a hybrid? That’s not the child’s fault.”

“I have my doubts that she actually killed the baby,” I told him, uncertain he’d find this alternative any more palatable. “Leethu seems to think she had every intention of fostering the child out. So she may have hid the hybrid over here, intending to keep it safe until it had enough control to pass as a full elf.”

“So are you looking for a corpse, or a live baby?” Wyatt frowned, and I suddenly felt backed into a very uncomfortable corner.

“I’m not sure. She may have panicked once the baby was born and killed it, regardless of her original intentions. Or it could be here, being raised among humans.”

Wyatt’s eyes bore into mine. “But the mother isn’t paying you to bring the baby back to her loving arms, some Lord is, and he wants it dead. So you’re going to snatch a poor, innocent baby away from unsuspecting parents, kill it, and then hand it over to the this monster of an elf?”

It didn’t sound very good when Wyatt said it. “The hybrid isn’t really a baby,” I protested. “She’s around nineteen or twenty years old.”

“You’re going to murder a young woman then. She’s walking around, has no idea who she is. She thinks she’s a human, and you’re going to just walk up and kill her?”

“Wyatt, she’s a hybrid. She’s not human. You don’t have any problem killing demons. Why is this bothering you? It’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “Those demons are attacking me; it’s self–defense. What you’re proposing is murder.”

“She’s not human!” I was feeling really frustrated with him. “You kill innocent groundhogs. I’ve seen you kill deer. They’re not attacking you. She’s a hybrid. It’s no different than shooting a raccoon.”

Wyatt looked very uncomfortable with my comparison. “But she looks like a human, doesn’t she? And she probably thinks she’s a human. I can’t condone this, Sam.”

“But I need your help! How am I going to find the hybrid without your help? There were probably tens of thousands of live female births in the window of time and area I’m checking. If I do it myself, it will take me forever.”

Wyatt ran a hand through his blond hair, clearly conflicted. “I’ll help you with corpses. But I’m not helping with any live beings. I just can’t do that, Sam.”

I wasn’t happy. I understood. After all, Wyatt was a human and they had strange, complicated notions of acceptable behavior. But I still wasn’t happy.

“Okay. I have no idea if I’m looking for a live baby, a dead baby, a human servant here in hiding, or what, so I might as well assume the hybrid is dead.”

“No killing,” Wyatt insisted. “If the baby is already dead, then fine, but if we discover the baby is still alive, I don’t want you to kill it.”

Great. That meant I’d have to catch a live young woman and turn her over to the elves. It would be easier to kill her; and kinder too. I was just going to have to lie. And somehow keep it all from Wyatt.

“We’ll only look for corpses,” I promised. We. I’d look for a live one on my own. “And what the fuck am I going to do about Diablo? The elves will have him soon. How am I going to get him back?”

He gathered me close and I felt him smile in my hair—he thought I was consenting to his wishes. “I guess you’ll have to catch a runaway sorcerer and trade him for your horse.”

“When?” I snapped. “I need to fend off the never–ending stream of deadbeat demons sent to kill me, find this needle–in–a–haystack hybrid corpse so I can hopefully get Haagenti off my back permanently, all while doing bullshit Iblis duties that asshole angel thinks up for me. I have no time for my human business, no time for you, no time to do the things I love.”

Wyatt made soothing noises against my hair and rubbed a hand down my back. “What can I do to help? Let me take something off your plate so you have more time.”

I pulled back and looked at him. “You’re already helping me with angel research. And now I’ve asked you to research infant deaths. Anything else and you won’t have any time left for your own stuff. No zombies, no hacker work.”

“No hot wings, no snowboarding with my psychotic girlfriend.” He was smiling. “Sam, anything I can do to help get this Haagenti guy off our backs so we can hopefully return to a reasonably normal life is good for me. You need some time freed up to do the things only you can do; that way I can get back to my zombies and having fun with my demon lover.”

I hugged him tight. “How do you feel about sleeping in my barn with me tonight?”

“Let me get some shoes and blankets, and I’ll meet you there.”

11

I
got up early, untangled myself from Wyatt’s bondage embrace and ran out for coffee and donuts. It was cold in the barn when I returned, in spite of the little heater I’d brought, so we snuggled under blankets as we sat propped against the wall of one of the stalls, enjoying our breakfast.

“Think you can withstand Leethu for a few moments? I need to call Dar, and I’d really like you to hear anything he’s found out about the Ruling Council.”

“As long as we can have hot, monkey sex right after; I think I can keep her at arm’s length.”

“We’ve had a lot of hot, monkey sex last night and this morning. Not that I’m complaining,” I added. “I’m just thinking you might be more resistant than usual.”

He laughed and pulled me onto his lap, sloshing my coffee over the lip of the cup and onto my hand. “Are you doubting my prowess? My stamina? My amazingly short recovery time.”

“Not at all, you stud, you. Let’s go inside and see if you can restrain yourself long enough for me to call Dar.”

No sooner were we in the door, than Leethu was down the stairs looking at Wyatt with an expression resembling the way Boomer had looked at the decapitated head. Pheromones were thick, and Wyatt’s breathing was ragged. Fuck, my breathing was ragged.

“Leethu, we’ve got some business stuff we need to do. Can you possibly go upstairs for a bit and tone it down. I really don’t have time for an orgy right now.”

“Later?” she asked. “I’m so lonely. I am always gentle with humans, Ni–ni. Not like the other demons at all. You can supervise and direct me. I’ll obey, as a member of your household should.”

Oh wow, that was so tempting. Images flashed through my mind of watching Leethu and Wyatt, telling her what to do. I know the same kinds of images were going through Wyatt’s mind too. I knew where all his favorite spots were, his most sensitive areas, what really drove him over the edge. Part of me wanted to keep that experience just between Wyatt and me, but demon habits die hard, and Leethu’s pheromones were very convincing. I struggled to keep control.

“Obey by turning it down right now,” I said with a voice more stern than I thought possible given the circumstances. The level immediately dropped to zero. Leethu was proving to be very compliant. “I’ll discuss your offer with Wyatt later, when he’s not so addled.”

She smiled and skipped up the stairs. “You okay?” I asked Wyatt.

“Ummm,” he replied. “Dead puppies, dead puppies, dead puppies.”

What? That might be something a demon would think about when turned on, but I hadn’t realized corpses of young canines had any attraction for humans.

“Should I slap you?” I offered. Sometimes that helped. Sometimes it just made it worse.

“No.” He shook his head. “Guys get woodies at really inopportune moments, so we think about non–sexy things to make everything behave. Usually it’s stuff like Uncle Phil in a Speedo, the woman down the street with really bad breath, or that nun from third grade.”

Confident that Wyatt’s mantra would help him resist Leethu’s seductive overtures; I walked over to my mirror and touched the button to call Dar. He picked up straight away, as I thought he would. Dar had a small mirror he carried around with him so he never missed a call.

“Did you find anything out?” I asked.

Dar gave a bark of laughter. “Mal, a room full of angels is the least of your worries right now. What the fuck went down between you and Haagenti?”

Oh yeah. A bunch of elves, humans and four demons were witnesses to our fight. I’ll bet that was all over Hel within seconds.

“I ran into him at one of those elf festivals, and we kind of got into it. I fucking kicked his ass, Dar. You should have been there!”

“That’s not what he’s saying,” Dar warned. “Although Zalanes has a very amusing tale about you
biting
his ass. Either way, Haagenti is furious and humiliated. He now wants you dead. Dead, Mal. And his bounty on you has doubled. No more ‘torture for centuries’ stuff; he won’t rest until you’re a pile of gore on the ground.”