Angel of Chaos (Imp Book 6) (26 page)

The air grew thick and heavy as all turned to Gabriel. “And the Fallen are mine,” I told him, my voice soft.

Mine
. The silent word reverberated with power, and I know the angels felt the impact as I did. I’d claimed this group, and my claim was stronger than any vow. There was no backing out now. I was the Iblis, and my workload had just increased tenfold.

I felt a collective gasp of breath.

“Bencul was Fallen. He interfered with the natural course of life. He saved a woman who should have died. He inserted himself into her life. He enthralled her, impregnated her in spite of her precautions otherwise. Then he brought a group of angels to my house — twice — to attack me and intimidate the human into complying with his wishes. Because of those actions, he became Fallen. He belonged to me, and those he dragged into the abyss of sin also became mine.”

I felt a wave of pride from the angel beside me, and I realized for the first time in my life that I really did sound like the Ha–Satan. Confident, assertive, wily. Angel of Justice. Angel of Vengeance. The Trickster. The Iblis. I was the devil’s advocate, and my job was to provide much–needed balance. How ironic that the very concept I scorned was what I was meant to create.

“Aaru rots from the inside. How you intend to rectify that situation isn’t my concern. I care not for Aaru or the problems of angels. My responsibility lies in Hel and among the Fallen. Deny me what heaven deems mine at your own peril.”

There was a flurry of mind–speech, and Gregory left my side to take his seat. It didn’t bother me. I could stand alone, and I needed him more at the table than to prop me up. There he could make a difference — both in Aaru and in my own fate. I loved him; he made me feel safe and worthy of the title I bore, but I was the Iblis, and that meant I had to stand my ground on my own two feet. And with my own two wings.

“We recognize your authority over the Fallen,” Gabriel announced. “However, that designation must be formally assigned. We can’t have you subjectively assuming that an angel is Fallen. There must be due process.”

I nodded. Sounded reasonable, but with angels, due process could take centuries. I couldn’t exactly sit around getting my head blown off while they debated these things. Keeping my mouth shut was the prudent thing to do at this juncture. I’d managed to talk my way out of a death sentence. Might as well not push the envelope too far. At least at this particular moment.

“Punishment for rushing to judgment on six angels is one rotation cycle naked and restrained. Beginning immediately.”

I opened my mouth only to snap it shut. Nyalla and Nils didn’t expect me home tonight, if at all. Gregory said he would transport Harper to safety for me. There was really nothing pressing for me to do beyond pouring bubble bath in the fountain at City Hall. I’d get this over with then go home to my life and my newfound responsibilities.

–23–

I
was alone in my jail cell this time, escorted without all the fanfare that had preceded my last incarceration. It was just as well; I was in no mood to fake bravado. Everything had seemed to have worked out to my advantage, but I was still worried. That other shoe was going to drop any moment, and I was tense, waiting for it to fall on my head with the weight of a hundred–ton brick.

Aaru seemed empty of angels. I couldn’t sense anyone, even snotty Gabriel, who had dumped me here after stripping me of my physical form and blocking my stash of raw energy. I had an irrational urge to shout “hello” and hear the word echo through the blank white expanse. Irrational because I didn’t have vocal chords at the moment, and even if I did, there was no echo in Aaru. Sound here was deadened, like screaming into a box of cotton.

I’d assumed responsibility for the Fallen, along with the radically expanded definition of that term. Having dominion over Hel was work enough. Even though there was no formal recognition of my authority, and the demon sections were pretty much life as usual, I had made a commitment to the humans there, and I would need to continually bust heads to keep the elves in line. Delegating that to Leethu and Dar would only buy me time. How was I going to juggle some serious smackdowns in Hel and manage the–fuck–knows–how–many Fallen angels and deadbeat humans? Knowing the Ruling Council, they’d want progress reports on each one, and a performance–improvement plan to raise their vibration level. What had I gotten myself into this time?

Heat scorched the edges of my spirit–self, and I leaned toward the comfort of Gregory’s power. I was desperate to know if Harper was safe, but in spite of the empty feeling in Aaru, I wasn’t completely sure anything I said — or thought — would be private.

She’s safe. And I’ve blocked this area so we can communicate without being overheard. Of course, that means everyone knows we’re discussing something we don’t want them to hear. Be discreet, Cockroach.

I breathed deep in relief — or would have, had I been sporting lungs at that moment.
How did it go?

A bit dicey, actually
. I felt his wry amusement.
My sudden appearance in the Alpha’s residence caused quite an uproar. Let’s just say I haven’t been that clawed up and bitten since our last date night.

I laughed, resting the entire weight of my spirit–self against him. The vision of my powerful, intimidating angel being jumped by dozens of half–transformed werewolves was downright hysterical.
Poor Harper. Not exactly a good introduction to her new life, huh?

No. Luckily that female Nephilim recognized her and got everyone to back off. Otherwise I would have been forced to use lethal means to defend myself. Given what she’s experienced of angels so far, I didn’t want to subject her to that level of violence.

One werewolf wasn’t much of a problem, but a group could cause serious damage. They reminded me of those flesh–eating ants — they just kept coming and coming until they overwhelmed their prey. Enough werewolves — or humans for that matter — and even an angel could be taken down.

So what do you plan to do with all these Fallen you are now responsible for — angels and humans?

I had no stinking idea.
Electroshock therapy? Slave labor? Or maybe I’ll just throw them through the gate to Hel and be done with it.

That would not be advisable, Cockroach. You’re supposed to rehabilitate them, not slaughter them.

Spoilsport. How am I supposed to raise their vibration level when mine is in the shitter? I refuse to set a good example for them. It’s not demonic.

Then set a bad example. Show them the ramifications of the path they walk. They’ll take one look at you and be scared straight.

Yeah, like you were?
I rubbed against him suggestively. Gregory’s presence soothed all my fears. He made Aaru downright tolerable.

Cockroach, you have no idea the terror I live in.

Yeah, right. He didn’t exactly seem terrified as he pulled me tight against him, merging us in a fine line of white along our edges. I sighed and gave myself over to him, relishing the privacy and solitude my punishment in Aaru provided us.

***

My house was as eerily quiet as Aaru had been. Harper was safely with the werewolves in West Virginia, Nyalla had taken Nils out to experience happy hour with Michelle and Candy and had left a note to not expect them home until late. Wyatt was still in Philadelphia — or was it Chicago at this point? For forty years I’d lived alone, but now I stood beside the sectional sofa in my great–room and felt the horrible ache of loneliness.

“Do you want me to stay? Perhaps try those spicy chicken arms again?”

“Wings. Hot wings.” I smiled and shook my head. He’d remain with me if I wanted, but I could tell there were things he needed to do. Who knows what kind of nightmare I’d caused up in Aaru. Hopefully the threat that any Fallen would report to me would keep them all toeing the line.

“The thought of eating amputated and cooked wings is gruesome. I prefer to call them arms.”

“What? The image of ripping the wings off something, plucking all the feathers out, then roasting them in a hot oven bothers you?” I teased him, running a hand along the glow of his hidden wings. “Pussy. You’d never make it in Hel. Ripping wings off is foreplay there.”

“I’m not in favor of wing removal — either avian or angel. Let’s agree to disagree on the hot wings, and I’ll make you coffee instead.”

His hand tangled in my hair, smoothing through the locks to catch a piece between his fingers, tugging it gently. Before I could reply, another angel appeared. Gabriel. I’d never seen him so distraught or disheveled — not even when we’d had a pastry smackdown in a Ruling Council meeting.

“The sanctuary is compromised.”

Sanctuary? I was momentarily confused, thinking he meant Aaru and wondering if some demons had managed to infiltrate the angel’s home. Then I realized they’d been calling the hidden spot for the Nephilim ‘sanctuary’ and froze in fear.

Gregory stiffened against me, his hand gripping my hair painfully tight. “How? When?”

The other angel sent me a look full of loathing. “While you were visiting the Iblis in her punishment. We were too busy trying to salvage the situation and move who we could to safety to send you notice.”

I’d thought it had been oddly quiet in Aaru. How many angels had taken part in this? Were things so fractured and chaotic in heaven that angels felt free to leave and take vigilante action on another race of beings?

“Which sanctuary?”

I held my breath at Gregory’s question.
No, don’t let it be the one with Jaq and Harper
, I selfishly thought.

“West Virginia. Alaska and Prussia are still secure.”

“Survivors?”

“The werewolves are scattered, but I believe over half of them have survived the attack.”

“Who is safe?” I was practically in hysterics. “Harper? Jaq? Are they okay?”

“Both are safe, for now. I was able to locate them and remove them from the battle zone before they were harmed. Trust me, the grown Nephilim was not pleased with my intervention.”

I’ll be she wasn’t. From what I’d seen of Jaq, I could tell the woman was a fighter — one who would stay to defend her pack even against angels. My panic dropped away knowing that the two women were safe, but dread crept on its heels.

“How … how could this have happened?” My voice was shaky and low as I turned from Gregory to Gabriel in search of an explanation.

“How do you think it happened,” Gabriel snapped, his power a blast of arctic ice against my skin. “Clearly you were watched as you trotted back and forth, risking the half–angel’s life to bring her to your home.”

“It could have been me.” Gregory put himself in between the pair of us. “I transported Harper this afternoon. I covered my path and our energy signatures well, but it’s possible another angel sensed me.”

Gabriel took a step forward, stabbing a finger at me. “Nonsense. It was her — that inept, foolish creature. For thousands of years we’ve been able to hide the children away, and in a few short days, she’s destroyed one of our most secure sanctuaries. Their deaths are on your head, you nasty cockroach.”

No one but Gregory was allowed to call me a cockroach, but more than the slur twisted me into a knot of pain and anger. I’d taken every precaution, but that obviously hadn’t been enough. Their deaths
were
on my head. But I wouldn’t be a demon if I didn’t succumb to the sin of anger and take it out on the nearest available being.

With a shriek of rage, I pushed Gregory aside and launched myself at Gabriel, knocking him backward to the ground. We rolled across the floor, into chairs and walls as we fought. I pulled his black, spiky locks, gouged his eyes and bit him, elongating nails and teeth to do the most damage. Gabriel was just as vicious, bashing my head against the table leg and twisting my limbs past the breaking point. I’m sure we looked like two feral alley cats screaming as the blood and sweat flew from us. Finally we both lay exhausted, panting, half under the broken bar stools. Gabriel was on top of me, still twisting one of my arms across my back just in case I discovered a second wind. He needn’t have bothered. I’d used up my second wind already.

It was then, breathing through my mouth and broken nose, that I smelled the distinctive aroma of coffee.

“If you are both finished, I suggest we sit down and figure out a plan to put the pieces of this mess back together again.”

I felt no shame at Gregory’s words, but Gabriel turned bright red and jumped off me as if I were a plague demon. In a fraction of a second, we’d repaired our injuries and both of us took a seat at my dining–room table. Gabriel was faking an air of cool aloofness, but his hands kept darting here and there — smoothing his spiky hair, straightening his clothing, clearing a spot of blood from the table. As much as he professed to hate me, I think he found our fights to be downright cathartic — the only time he lost control and allowed all that anger and pain to come out. It was good for him. Like releasing steam from a pressure cooker. And I loved being the one to turn the valve.

“Here.” Gregory put a mug of coffee in front of each of us and took a seat at the head of the table.

“I don’t sully my vibration patterns with the consumption of food or drink,” Gabriel sneered, pushing the mug away.

Gregory reached out and slowly moved it back toward the other angel. “It’s either this or the vodka. Trust me; you don’t want to drink the vodka. It takes half the flesh from the inside of your throat on the way down, and you wake up the next morning feeling as if a major portion of your brains are on the outside of your skull. Most unpleasant.”

I choked as my coffee went down the wrong pipe. Gregory had been hungover? Damn, I had totally tempted this angel into sin.

Gabriel took a tentative sip from his mug and grimaced.

“Here.” Gregory upended my little sugar bowl over the other angel’s cup. “This helps mask the distastefully bitter flavor.”

“Not bad,” Gabriel pronounced after another sip. The sour expression on his face was in stark contrast to his words. “So, step one is to transport the Nephilim to another sanctuary, and then locate the surviving werewolves and hide them.”