Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (20 page)

“Oh
please
! Not
that!
” I said dramatically. “I’ll have it to you by the deadline, I promise.”

The angels nodded as one and proceeded on to the rest of the agenda item.

It was moving on toward happy hour, when I remembered something. Leafing back through the pages, I looked over the demon kill report. There were a few marked as “unidentified”.

“Hey, which one of these is the head?”

Confused eyes turned toward me.

“That head you brought over the other day,” I prompted Gregory. “The one you said was a demon, but we couldn’t identify it. Where is it on the report?”

The other angels began paging back through their paperwork. Gregory looked at me with blank eyes. As if he had no idea what I was talking about.

“The head. You brought it over when we discussed the agenda for the meeting.”

“We’re done with the kill report,” Dopey interrupted. “That was hours ago. Table it for the next meeting.”

I ignored him. “I thought it was human but you said it was a demon. Remember?”

Gregory nodded. “You were right. It was a human. Killed by another human, so it’s not on the report.”

He was such a good liar. I was almost convinced, but I’d been there. He had been positive it was a demon. Why didn’t he want the Ruling Council to know about it?

“You said the human died ninety years ago at the hand of a demon. The head was reasonably fresh. It hadn’t been decomposing for ninety years.”

No irritation, no significant looks, no kicking my leg under the table. Nothing from Gregory that would indicate I needed to shut up, that he was trying to keep this hush.

“It was an identical twin to the one who died ninety years ago. And human preservation techniques are more advanced. The human was murdered by another then cryogenically frozen. It was only recently removed and beginning to decompose.”

I wavered. Maybe the cryogenic technique had given it that “snow” smell Candy had noted. Maybe that’s why it felt so empty. I had never explored a flash frozen human corpse before. Maybe Gregory wasn’t lying after all.

“So why bring it to me then?” I asked, still suspicious.

He shrugged. “A source told me it was a demon. I had my doubts, but thought I’d have you check it out. Turns out it was nothing at all.”

“Humans kill each other all the time,” Sneezy commented. “Sometimes they blame demons. Sometimes they even accuse each other of being demons. It’s so irritating when we chase down a lead only to find out it was just a regular human matter.”

The others nodded, satisfied, and returned to a discussion of the vibratory impact of human genetic manipulation. I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else going on, something Gregory wasn’t telling me. Something Gregory wasn’t telling the other angels. Maybe I was just paranoid. It was probably nothing, as my angel had said. I was discovering things were not always as they seemed when it came to angels, and I vowed to text Candy as soon as we had a break.

14

I
t was early the next morning when Gregory ported me back from the Marriott into my kitchen. I offered to make him coffee, knowing full well he didn’t eat or drink, and that after spending almost twenty four hours in a room with me and five angels, he’d happily make up some excuse.

He accepted. And he attempted to assist in the coffee–making.

“Ground up, burnt beans, right?” he asked, sniffing the canister of Folgers. I hated to disappoint him, but I was too tired to do fresh ground beans in the French press.

“The machine runs hot water over the beans, then goes through a filter into the pot so you don’t have the grounds floating around your drink and getting stuck in your teeth.”

I put a filter in the coffee maker and handed him a tablespoon. “Here. Scoop out ten tablespoons of the coffee grounds and dump them into the filter.”

While he was occupied with that, I texted Wyatt to let him know I was back. I also had to re–send the one to Candy. Something, or someone, had blocked cell phone reception in the Marriott, so not only did hers not go out, but I’d returned to five messages from Wyatt informing me of his progress on our project, and that he’d killed yet another demon while safely behind his spiffy new wall. Wyatt also expressed the hope that I was “having fun”. Ha, ha, very funny.

There was also one from him letting me know Amber was in town from college and that he wanted her to meet me. Ugh. Family stuff. Wyatt’s mother refused to see me, or even speak my name. I could understand. Her darling boy ensnared in the clutches of an older woman. Much older. And there was that whole demon/Satan thing too. I wasn’t sure how thrilled Wyatt’s younger sister was about our relationship. This was probably going to be a very short, awkward introduction. Which would be fine with me. Demons don’t do family stuff.

I looked over and Gregory was still measuring out the coffee. Carefully and exactly measuring out the coffee. To the grain.

“Oh for fuck sake,” I told him, snatching the tablespoon and shoveling approximately ten scoops of grounds into the filter. “We’ll be here all week and I need coffee right now. That hotel stuff never got changed from yesterday morning. It was like a pile of sludge for the last half of our meeting.”

“You clearly have more than ten tablespoons in there,” Gregory said reprovingly. “How can you expect consistent and optimal results when you don’t measure correctly?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s coffee, not rocket science.” I poured the water into the machine and hit the “brew” button.

“Ah. So there is a range of acceptable input and output?”

I shot a frustrated look at Gregory, and realized he was teasing. It was a bit of a shock.

“Are you actually going to drink any of this stuff?” I asked him. I was irritable. I hoped these Ruling Council meetings were once a century or something or I was going to go stark raving mad. Gregory had been vague when I’d tried to pin him down on the frequency.

“There’s no need for me to consume food or beverage to sustain myself, and as angels, we ensure our purity and high level of vibration by denying ourselves corporeal sensory stimulation.”

“No, thanks” would have been an acceptable answer. I didn’t need a fucking lecture on angelic purity. Pricks.

“I know you enjoy intense sensory experiences, but you shouldn’t
need
this drink.” The lecture continued. “And when are you going to deal with this demon who is flouting your authority and threatening both you and your human toy? You’ve let this go on long enough.”

“All right,
Dad
. I’ll get right on it. Squeeze it in after the interminable Ruling Council meeting and my recovery nap.”

“You shouldn’t need to sleep either. If you applied yourself, you’d have ample time to get everything done.”

I slammed a coffee cup down on the counter, breaking the handle in three pieces. “Would you get the fuck off my back? I’ll take care of things my way, and in my own time. I don’t need you chewing my ass out with your holier–than–thou attitude. Get out of my house. Go back to Aaru and meditate, or sing a hymn or something.”

I glared at the angel. He looked back at me, inscrutable and silent. The coffee machine beeped

“Are you going to throw a breakfast food at me?” Gregory asked softly. The corner of his mouth twitched.

I envisioned wrestling around the floor with him and my spirit–self came alight. The danish–incited fight with Dopey had been fun, but with Gregory there would be all kinds of sexual undertones. I had not a doubt in my mind that we’d wind up angel fucking. I knew there was no way I’d be able to resist. “I’m too tired to start a food fight. Besides, I don’t have any pastries. Or muffins. I’d need to throw bacon at you and it might not have the same effect.”

He walked toward me, and I tensed expectantly, like a rabbit cornered. He brushed against me, and stretched his arm down toward mine. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted him to keep going, to grab me and yank me right out of this body to join with him. I was tired, grumpy, but all that would fall aside with just one touch.

Gregory‘s hand closed around the broken coffee cup and lifted it from my hand. “I believe humans put some kind of dairy product in their coffee?” he asked. The question sounded sexy, like a proposition.

“Not me. Black as midnight on a moonless night,” I choked out.

Moving away, he poured the coffee in the handle–less cup and gave it to me. I grabbed it with both hands as if it were a lifesaver, and sipped the liquid gratefully. Undeterred, he moved in closer and picked up a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his thumb and fingers. He was so close, and the power he leaked burned hot against my skin. I was getting used to the feel of it. I was beginning to like it, to long for it.

“I admire how deeply you imbed yourself into your form, little cockroach,” he murmured. “Such commitment, such dedication to experiencing sensation is what I would expect from an Iblis. However, you need to know how to distance yourself. You must develop the skills you need to quickly adapt to the particulars of your situation. You must be flexible in your vibration levels. This is important.”

“I have distanced from my form,” I told him proudly. “Two months ago, Wyatt shot me in the head and killed me. I pulled back and held myself inside the dead flesh a few moments before I recreated myself. Any other demon would have died, but I managed to exist inside a corpse.”

I felt his approval. His personal energy, his spirit self, extended through his fingers to touch my own. The feel of him soared through me more than any physical caress would.

“Try for longer next time.” His breath stirred my hair and I closed my eyes. “Or remove yourself from the human form and exist within something inanimate.”

“Mmmm.”

I wasn’t paying attention anymore. All I heard was the throb of his voice. That sound, his breath, the heat of his power, the pulse of his energy, all overwhelmed me. I reached out to him, our spirit selves swirling into translucent white where we touched. We pressed against each other, tantalizingly slow.

The front door slammed closed. It was like a splash of cold water. I tried to jerk away from Gregory, but he grabbed me and crushed me against him.

“Thought I’d join you for coffee.” Wyatt’s voice was tense, full of sorrow. And that hurt me far more than if he’d been angry.

“Send your toy away,” Gregory said against my hair, his energy still stroking along mine.

I couldn’t physically pull away, but I did yank my spirit self back, pulling it away from the flesh and consolidating it deep within me as Gregory had been urging me to do.

“No,” I told him, keeping my voice soft. “I’m sorry. I love Wyatt, and I don’t want to hurt him.”

The angel released me, both physically and spiritually, and I turned to see Wyatt, standing forlorn by the front door. Something inside me twisted.

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him. “Sit down and I’ll get you a cup. I know how you like it.” That last bit was intentional, to help him feel a connection to me that the angel didn’t have. These were things we shared, little exclusive, intimate moments of our lives.

Gregory watched as I filled a cup with coffee, poured in the cream from the fridge and added a spoonful of sugar, stirring it before handing it to Wyatt. I reached over and kissed his cheek as I pressed the mug into his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I told him sincerely. “He was just leaving.”

I turned and looked at the angel pointedly. For once, he cooperated.

“Since I’m not going to drink coffee, and I have no desire to watch you play with your toy, I’ll leave.” He grinned at me, and suddenly he looked very human. “Rain check on the bacon?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Yes. I’ll try to keep some pastries on hand for the next time though.”

“What’s this about pastries and bacon?” Wyatt asked as Gregory gated away.

He was forcing his tone to sound casual, to try and be nonchalant about what he’d nearly walked in on. If he’d been thirty seconds later, we would have been out of our bodies, lost in a joining of energy. I wondered briefly what we’d look like, what a human would perceive, if anything.

“Kind of an inside joke,” I told him. “I threw a Danish at Gabriel during the meeting, and we ended up in a brawl. Really livened things up.”

Wyatt smiled, the tension in the room lightening. “So there is a Gabriel after all?”

“Yep. One of the hotel employees must have been pregnant. Otherwise I’m sure he wouldn’t have bothered coming at all. He was amazing, Wyatt. A total jerk. Constantly sniping at everyone. He even baited Gregory. Can you imagine? For a second I thought the apocalypse was going to rain down on our heads.”

Wyatt chuckled and the tension evaporated. Sitting on one of my dining room chairs, he pulled me onto his lap.

“Where’s Leethu? I’m not feeling the uncontrollable urge to boink everything in sight, so she must be out?”

I rubbed myself against him, happy to feel his arms around me, smell his familiar, warm, human scent. “Nah. She’s upstairs. She hides when Gregory is here and totally shuts down the pheromones so he doesn’t get irritated and kill her.”

“I, ah, I figured that was the reason I walked in on you in such a compromising position? Leethu had been turning it on strong and overcoming both yours and an angel’s restraint?”

It was a good excuse, but I’d vowed to be honest with him. “No. Gregory finds her really repulsive, and seems to be immune to her influence. I don’t know what his game is with me, Wyatt. He really comes on strong, and it’s difficult for me to resist him.”

Instead of being angry, Wyatt seemed relieved. He buried my face against his shoulder and kissed the side of my head.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Sam.”

I pulled my head up and kissed him, relishing the closeness, the trust we had in each other. Trust. I think I was the only demon ever to know trust.

Wyatt pulled away from our kiss, giving me a brief peck on the nose. “Go get your coffee and let’s talk. I’ve had a busy night and I’ve got lots of information for you.”

I grabbed my coffee and plopped back down on Wyatt’s lap. Now that Gregory was gone, Leethu’s influence was winding down the stairs in a seductive spiral. We’d need to make this conversation quick before we became focused on other things. Wyatt felt it too. He ran his hands through my hair and his lips along my jaw line as he spoke.