Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (16 page)

Crap. That really upped the stakes. Between the huge reward and the ability to use any force, more than Low would be after me now. I really needed to find this hybrid for the elves. Now. I glanced over at Wyatt, who stood listening. He looked worried. He should be. If Haagenti wanted me dead, he would probably extend that edict to every one of my household, earthly or otherwise.

“So I’m assuming Ahriman is no longer behind this. It wouldn’t do his breeding petition any good to have me dead.”

“Who knows?” Dar said. “Maybe he’s tired of waiting for you, or angry that you’re not jumping to accept?”

The whole thing was depressing. I wanted to crawl back under a rock and hide, just Wyatt and I. But I was the Iblis. And that thought reminded me of the original reason for my call.

“So what did you find out about the angels?” Time to shake off this feeling of defeat and get on with it. Haagenti wasn’t going to go away, and there were no more rocks to hide under, at least according to Gregory.

“Seven angels were part of the Ruling Council back when we were in Aaru,” he said triumphantly.

“Six,” I corrected. “I make seven.”

“Seven,” he insisted. “There might be six now, but there were seven back then. Maybe one of them got fired and you got their job?”

Hmmm. Could be. “Do you know their names?” A few leapt to mind, but I doubted the Ruling Council was made up of Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Doc, Grumpy, and Happy.

“There’s a lot of overlap here,” he warned. “It’s a wonder any of them knows who’s in charge of what, honestly. One is Truth, sometimes called Justice.”

Ah. No names then, but more like job titles. No doubt this would be very convoluted and confusing.

“Another is Balance, or Right Order.”

Yep, that sounded like the angels I’d met to date.

“Obedience.”

“I certainly hope that’s not the position they expect me to take.” Those angels would be in for a rude surprise. Of course, I’m sure Gregory had already told them I was a lost cause when it came to obedience.

“Prosperity.”

Oh, I totally wanted that one! Maybe I could put a bounty on Haagenti’s head for a change.

“Wisdom.”

Now that would be funny.

“Immortality.”

“That’s six. What’s the seventh?” I asked.

“I don’t have any information on the seventh. Everyone agrees that there were seven, but no one seems to remember the other one.”

“Any more detail?” This would help, even without the info on that last angel. I could glean some personality traits from the titles, but more would be better. After all, an angel’s idea of wisdom was probably very different from mine.

“The Immortality one is also said to be the one who weighs souls. He is the beginning and the end—the first one born, and the last to die. Kind of like the guy who cleans up after the party, from what I gather.”

Could be Gregory. He was old as dirt. Older. I could see him ushering everyone out the door after last call.

“The Wisdom one also sings.”

I chuckled at that. I knew angels sang, that they loved music, but I just couldn’t see any I’d met belting out a Carpenters’ tune in the shower.

“The Truth one kind of walks a fine line between mercy and vengeance. I guess that’s the whole Justice angle. I just don’t get that one at all. I think the Obedience one is his buddy or something.”

I laughed, my mood lightening. Angel BFFs, walking hand in hand, texting each other late at night.

“Nothing on the others, or on the mysterious seventh one. Oh, except the Balance one has something to do with duality. I don’t know what the fuck that means either.”

Yeah, well he wouldn’t be any more enlightened after hearing Gregory go on about it for hours either. Right order. Angels got all wet just thinking about it, but I could never figure out what the fuck it meant.

“Let me know if you find out anything else.” Dar was thorough. I doubted he’d have missed anything.

“I also have a message for you from the High Lord Taullian, Ruler of Cyelle. I’ll never understand why elves need to use so many ‘L’s. It’s just absurd.”

I agreed.

“He says the human you wanted information on was named Joseph Barakel. He was forty–five years old when he did the changeling swap, and that was about nineteen years ago.”

I shot a quick glance at Wyatt, who didn’t appear to be paying attention. He was clenching his fists and staring hard at a spot on the wall, resisting Leethu’s pheromones that had crept back up. He said he would help me with the research on dead infants, but there was an increasing probability the hybrid wasn’t dead. With Haagenti upping the ante, I fully intended to follow up on my hunch that the hybrid remained alive over here, and that the human was also alive keeping tabs on her. I was desperate. I needed to find this hybrid now, before Haagenti made good on his promise. But the human servant was middle–aged when he’d done the changeling swap. He might be dead of natural causes by now, even if the elf woman hadn’t killed him as she claimed.

“He never returned,” Dar added.

That jived with Tlia–Myea’s claim that he was killed over here. Or possibly that he remained here alive, watching over a fostered hybrid. I glanced at Wyatt again. It was looking more and more like I’d be committing what in his eyes would be a murder.

“Never returned?” I asked Dar, just to confirm. “Who brought the human baby back after the swap?”

“A demon, evidently, but their records don’t show specifically who. There clearly was a human baby. There’s a bill of sale and everything. Taullian’s people traced it down, and her owner confirmed the purchase and the date.”

I’d met the human, and her odious owner, but had hoped something would identify the demon who’d brought the baby back. He’d at least be able to confirm or deny the human’s death. I wondered again who had leaked the story. It wasn’t the sort of gossip a demon would spread around. It had to have been an elf. The midwife that Tlia–Myea was so fiercely protecting? Or was there someone besides the midwife who knew this little secret?

“Oh, and Joseph Barakel came into his mistress’ service as an infant.” Dar added.

I was stunned. An infant? And he had risen only to the level of a servant?

“Was he addled? Mentally lacking?” I thought about the human changeling, Nyalla. Changeling babies usually became magic users, sorcerers. I’d expected this guy to have come into elf hands as an adult if he was a mere servant.

“Noooo. His scores were pretty average, for a human. I’m not sure why she didn’t put him in the mage apprenticeship program. He certainly qualified. With intensive training he probably could have been skilled.”

The training
was
intensive. I’d found out about it from the runaways I’d tracked for asshole–elf, otherwise known as Lord Feille of Wythyn. The babies went in right away and remained at the school full time. There was no family life for them. No normal human childhood. They spent decades in training then served their owners, often while still residing at the academy.

“Who did the elf woman in the tower, Tlia–Myea, buy him from?” Maybe he’d had behavior issues and been sold from out of kingdom. Maybe his original elf homeland had more exacting standards and he hadn’t made the cut.

“She had him as an infant. She purchased changeling rights from another elf, and he came straight to her when the swap was made.”

It was like a lightning bolt had hit me in the forehead. She bought a human baby, never turned him over to the academy of magic, raised him herself. It was an absurd, sentimental waste of money. To spend a fortune to get the rights to a changeling then not allow him to be trained as a valuable magic user was insane. She could have ended up with a mage, but instead she wasted her money and wound up with a servant. The only reason for her to do that would be because she wanted to raise him herself, as her own child.

Elves lived for tens of thousands of years. Humans didn’t. And suddenly her human baby was a grown, middle–aged man. He’d die. She needed an elf baby to love. One who would outlive her. She knew the baby she bore wouldn’t pass for an elf, so she sent her two children off together. One to watch over the other. One tasked with keeping an eye on the infant. One so concerned with watching over the baby that he couldn’t even return with the human changeling. One who was probably sending occasional reports to her. It was all just a hunch, a long shot, but my instincts had seldom failed me before, and they were screaming at me about this one.

I shot one more quick look at Wyatt, who was thankfully oblivious to our conversation. “Dar? Would you dig around and see if you can discover who the demon was that brought back the human baby? And also if there is a demon who has been sending fairly regular correspondence to this elf woman? Maybe once a year or every other year? It may be the same demon, but don’t rule out that it could be two different ones. Is there a way you can do that without involving Lord Taullian, or him knowing what you’re doing?”

Dar snorted. “Of course, Mal. How dare you doubt my competence.”

Now that’s the Dar I know and love. And I told him so. “Dar, you arrogant, worthless cow. Day–old shit is more competent than you. Still, you’re all I’ve got. Try not to fuck it up.”

“Fuck you, Mal,” he said affectionately before disconnecting the line.

“The net closes in on this elf hybrid,” I murmured to myself before turning to Wyatt, who was in the process of closing in on me.

I had been engrossed in Dar’s information, so I hadn’t felt the dramatic increase of sex in the air. Leethu leaked like crazy, and evidently she was pouring it out like a geyser right now. Wyatt wrapped himself around me, pushing me backwards to slam against the wall, the sharp edges of my mirror digging in to my back.

“Now, Sam,” he said, his voice husky with need. “I don’t care if she hears, watches, joins in. Right now I wouldn’t even care if that angel joined in. I need you now.”

“Barn,” I told him, trying to negotiate the path to the door as he unhooked buttons and snaps with great skill and speed, once again ignoring his own clothing in his frenzy to remove mine. I swatted his hands away and yanked open the French doors leading out to the pool and patio. It was January, so my pool was snugly tucked under a huge foam cover, patio furniture stacked neatly in the corner. Otherwise I may have taken advantage of a handy chaise lounge or done it in the water. Instead I moved as quickly as I could with Wyatt pawing me all over, leaving a trail of my clothing on our way to the barn.

I’d barely managed to throw a few blankets down in the tack room before Wyatt shoved me onto my hands and knees. Clearly he’d taken those moments to get his own clothing off, because instead of bulging jeans against my rear, I felt hard, naked flesh. Digging a fist into my hair, he yanked my head backward and plunged full length into me. A human woman would have been pissed by the complete absence of foreplay. I wasn’t human though, and I was really loving this side of Wyatt—the Leethu–influenced side.

“Yeah, go!” I laughed. It felt like he was going to rip right through into my abdomen. I wished he was bigger.

In response Wyatt let go of my hair and gripped my shoulders, shoving my face down into a saddle pad. He braced against my shoulders, pulling and pushing against me to force his thrusts even deeper. He was lucky, because all this rough stuff was testing my control. Humans weren’t sturdy enough to handle what I was longing to do, though, so I let Wyatt call the shots and just enjoyed myself.

It was over quickly, and Wyatt collapsed in a heap on top of me. After a few moments of listening to his panting while I struggled to get even minimal oxygen from my squashed lungs, he rolled off me and gathered me tenderly to his chest in the spooning move he preferred during sleep.

“Sam, I am so sorry,” he gasped.

“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “That fucking rocked.”

“I’m serious.” He buried his face in my hair. “

“I’d be happy to let you apologize in a slow and gentle fashion,” I said turning to face him.

I felt him wince. “That was fast and crazy. I think I’m going to be out of commission for a while.”

“Can I reciprocate?” I teased. “You just roll over face down on the saddle pads and I’ll take care of the rest.”

He flinched, even though he could see my smile. “Uhh, no. I let you get away with all sorts of things, Sam. You’ve always rocked my world, but there are some things I draw the line at.”

I sighed as though he’d broken my heart. “Fine. I’ll cross that off my list. I’ve got lots of other ideas though. I’m hoping Leethu stays. She brings out your wild, unconventional side.”

He laughed. “
You
bring out my wild, unconventional side. I kind of like your sister Leethu though. I like her a lot. A whole lot.”

“Yes, that’s part of her evil plan,” I teased him. “Draw you in with her beauty and promises of ecstasy then leave you a useless quivering mess for months.”

“Kind of like you do?” Wyatt teased back. “Have you noticed how she only has an Asian accent when she wants something? It seems to get really thick when she’s trying to seduce me.”

“That’s her favorite form right now. She attracts humans with a tiny, helpless demeanor. They never know what hits them. She’s the absolute master of topping from the bottom. Works even with us demons.”

“She has a male form too, the Incubus?”

“Oh more than one, although Leethu has always preferred female, both in form and in sexual partners. She has over fifty Owned beings to choose from, and most of them are human. That’s pretty good for a Succubus, even at her age.”

Wyatt looked astonished. “Fifty? She’s killed fifty people and kept their souls?”

I shrugged. “More like thirty–five, give or take a few, the rest are animals. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but Succubi can’t manage a whole lot of Owned spirits. They don’t multi–task as well as other demons do.”

He looked at me. Oh no. I knew where this was going.

“How many beings do you Own? How many are humans?”

“Four hundred and thirty six. Two–hundred–and–twenty–eight are human.” I knew exactly how many. It’s important to keep track of these things.