Exodus (Imp Series Book 8) (26 page)

Read Exodus (Imp Series Book 8) Online

Authors: Debra Dunbar

Tags: #demons, #angels, #fantasy, #hell

BOOK: Exodus (Imp Series Book 8)
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“It wasn’t me.”

I grabbed his head, squeezing it between my two palms. Detecting lies was a new thing for me, and it worked better with demons than it did elves. But I’d discovered that under extreme fear, falsehoods seemed to come shining through.

Bob gasped, his heart pounding. I was sure he thought I was about to crush his head into pulp. “It wasn’t me,” he squeaked.

It wasn’t. I let go of his head and looked back out toward my pasture. Either the eleventh assassin theory was true, or the traitor was out there, mingling among the potters and basket weavers. There was another Ruling Council meeting tonight. I really didn’t have time to interrogate forty-two elves—forty-one if I assumed Telly was innocent. There were other things I needed to do, but I couldn’t allow a traitor to be right outside my house, especially with Nyalla living here.

“Who out there left the encampment and came to the house?” I asked Bob.

The elf looked like he was about ready to pass out, or puke. “I don’t know. Frideia and Laine were showing me how to make a basket with straw. I wasn’t paying attention to the others.”

Nyalla shook her head. “There are forty-two encamped there right now, Sam. Little Red and Boomer are watching the perimeter for vampires. No one is paying attention to the coming and going of the elves. Plus they’re fast, and stealthy. One could have easily slipped down here and back without anyone being the wiser.”

I marched out toward the tents, Bob and Nyalla following me. “Line them up. I’m going to check each and every one of them and if one is lying, there will truly be hell to pay.”

It didn’t take long to find our traitor. I gave Little Red and Boomer as well as Diablo the heads-up that I’d be doing an interrogation. Nyalla and Bob gathered the elves, and before I’d spoken to three, the dragon came trotting into the center of the encampment, an elf clutched in his hands. Pearly-white talons curled around the struggling captive, sharp points pressed against sensitive flesh. Little Red might be a baby dragon, but he knew how to apply just enough pressure to keep his prey from escaping without punching six-inch round holes through his body.

“And who is this?” I asked cheerfully. “Bring him up here. I’ll let him cut in line and go next.”

“He was halfway to the road before I saw him,” the dragon told me. “If I hadn’t been airborne, and if that truck hadn’t swerved to avoid hitting him, I would never have noticed.”

Elves. Fast and stealthy. The dragon plopped this one in front of me. Actually he threw the elf to the ground. I noticed red streaks and holes along his clothing. Seems our escapee had either tried to run from the dragon, or Little Red had less control over his claws than I’d thought.

“Name?”

The elf glared at me. “Twyn”

“T, we’ve had a bit of a problem here and I’m trying to discover if any of the elves that I’ve been hosting know about it.”

He glared at me. Little Red gave him a poke with a claw, knocking the elf face-first onto the ground.

“What’s your profession, T?” I asked.

The elf didn’t reply.

“He’s not one of us,” Telly spoke up. “Almost half of us are from the same town in Cyelle. He’s not. He keeps to himself. Can’t even manage to cook his own food. We all chat about what we did back in Hel, about our homes there, what we miss and what we hope for the future. Twyn never says anything.”

“So what did you do in Hel? And where did you live?”

“I’m from Li,” he lied. “And I was a fletcher.”

“Prove it.” I already knew the guy was lying, but I wanted the elves to see it too. I wanted more than just Telly and Lysile to trust me, and that wouldn’t happen if they thought I was prone to dragging off suspects with only circumstantial evidence.

One of the elves handed Twyn an arrow and a bunch of feathers. The elf’s hands shook as he took a curved knife from his pocket and began to slice the feathers in half. He notched the wood then slid the feathers in the side. The arrow glowed as he chanted.

Looked good to me, but what did I know? “Anyone here actually a fletcher?”

An elderly elf stepped forward, extending her hand. She took the arrow and ran her finger along the feathers, holding it up to her eye and rotating it. Twyn bolted. He made it twenty feet before Diablo appeared in front of him, snorting and blocking his path. I took the chains and fur-lined handcuffs from Nyalla and secured our newest prisoner.

“Can I eat him?” Little Red asked.

“Maybe later,” I told him with an apologetic smile.

As much as I wanted to let the dragon eat this shithead, I needed Twyn. If he knew about the assassins enough to set them free, then he probably knew about other things too—such as where the High Lords were hanging out.

But further interrogation would have to wait until after the Ruling Council meeting.

“Come on, T. You’re going to stay chained up in my basement until I get back, then we’re going to continue this discussion.”

 

Chapter 24

 

T
his Ruling Council meeting wasn’t held in Aaru, and wasn’t held in a Marriott. Even though our original meeting spot had been blown up, there were plenty of other conference centers to choose from. Unfortunately they chose none of the above, and we were all perched on a blustery mountain top like mystical gurus. Gabriel had to use his angelic powers to keep the paper agendas from blowing away, and mind-speak was mandatory, otherwise everyone would need to scream to be heard over the wind.

Usurper was still taking Uriel’s seat. New Guy had been replaced by an angel I was calling New New Guy. And Sleazy, the last of the original popular vote angels was conspicuously absent. Instead another angel sat in his spot. I’d named him Goldilocks.

“Revisiting the open items from the last meeting, first on the agenda is the opportunity for Fallen Angels to be reinstated into Aaru upon completion of a program of penance and the approval via a quorum vote of the Ruling Council,” Gabriel announced.

I wrestled with my papers and tried to read the six hundred point penance program. Looked pretty horrible to me, but I wasn’t one to deny an angel the chance to return to Aaru if that’s what they really wanted. Heck, the more Fallen that returned, the easier my job would be. Although at this point all I had was Nils and I wasn’t sure how enthusiastic he’d be about this program. He still seemed pretty bummed about Nyalla. Maybe what he really needed was a demon to hook up with. It was a shame that Infernal Mates had been sidelined for the time being, although I guess I could match him up on my own. Technically he was mine to do with what I wanted and no longer under angelic rule. Now, to find the right demon for my Nils. Dregvant hadn’t been any sort of prize in my book, but Nils had been two signatures away from a breeding contract with that repulsive scum. If that’s where he set the bar as far as demon lovers, then maybe he’d be interested in meeting some of my Low.

Although perhaps his criteria for a baby-momma wasn’t the same as what he’d want in a partner. Hmm. Wouldn’t hurt to introduce him to a few and see what he thought.

“All in favor?”

I stuck my hand up in the air, although I hadn’t really been paying attention to the discussion.

“She doesn’t get to vote on affairs internal to Aaru,” Goldilocks complained.

I shrugged and lowered my hand. Technically he was right. The Fallen might belong to me, but whether they were given the chance to go back to Aaru or not wasn’t really my business. Just like the angels wouldn’t get a vote on whether a demon was allowed to return to Hel or not.

“Excellent.” Gabriel shuffled his papers, snatching one back out of midair as the wind ripped it from his grasp. “The next open item was the position on the Ruling Council for the Iblis.”

“Do I get a vote on that since I’m the subject of this particular agenda item?” I asked.

“All in favor of the Iblis on the Ruling Council?” Three angels nodded. “Against?” Three others nodded.

“In a case of an even vote, the treaty item will remain unchanged,” Gabriel announced. “The Iblis stays on the Ruling Council.”

“And the next agenda item?” New New Guy asked. He had a rather smug smile on his face. I didn’t like it one bit.

And I didn’t like the next agenda item one bit either.

“All seats on the Ruling Council become popular vote seats. Each choir has a right to be represented by an angel they feel can best put forth their issues and concerns. A chairman will be voted in among those on the council, also by popular vote throughout Aaru.”

“I think we know how voting is going to go on this one,” Gregory drawled.

“You’ve been an advocate for change lately,” Goldilocks observed. “Well, it’s time for a change in our leadership. Yes, I know how voting is going to go on this item, but regardless, we will prevail. Either by vote, or by force.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a threat,” Raphael commented.

“That’s because it is,” Goldilocks replied.

I held my breath, waiting for a fight to break out. I could feel the energy building up between the angels.

“All in favor,” Gabriel said, breaking the tension. Three nodded. “Against.” Three nodded.

Again a tie that would result in no change. But Goldilocks was right, it was just a matter of time. Things were coming to a head with three new Ruling Council members who were openly defiant toward Gregory and his brothers. I wished we’d go back to the boring meetings where everyone was uber polite and I snoozed through six hours of mundane topics. Normally I loved a good fight, but I was increasingly concerned this wasn’t a fight that my angel and his siblings were going to win.

“The next agenda item…” Gabriel made a choking noise and looked up from the meeting agenda, exchanging a shocked glance with Gregory. “The next agenda item deals with the guidance of humans going forward and proposes that the angels leave their positive evolution to the elves and return to Aaru.”

I nearly fell off the mountain in surprise. What the fuck? We’d carefully hidden the elves’ presence from the angels. Did one of the Grigori squeal? Gregory did warn me that as loyal as they were, some still felt greater ties to the heads of their choir than him. Or perhaps the Vampires spilled the beans, irritated that I wouldn’t let them descend on my field and eat the remaining forty-three elves.

Or maybe they’d known all along. There were the rumors that an angel had worked with the elves. An angel let Little Red over from his home. Had an angel been involved with the migration of higher elves in key places months, or perhaps years ago? If so, who the fuck was this angel? Because he really needed to die.

“The Iblis is lying about the elves, and now she’s not lying about the elves.” Rafi could have won an award for his sarcasm. “Which is it? Have you see any? If they’d come across one of the major gateways, the Grigori would have sent word about their change in heart. Or do you think they’re sneaking through in little groups here and there, hiding among the humans?”

That was a little close to home. New New Guy didn’t respond. He just grinned and did something with one of his hands, as if he were flagging down a taxi.

There was a flash of light and we all hit the deck. Well, I hit the deck. Gregory drew his sword. The other angels on the Ruling Council gaped. New New Guy continued to grin like a fucking Cheshire Cat. The light spread out and upward into a gateway, and I held my breath. I’d seen too many of these lately, and although it was weird that a gate would open right in the middle of a Ruling Council meeting, it wasn’t completely out of the realm of what was possible.

Just in case something horrible was about to appear, I stayed down on the ground. What came through wasn’t a manticore or a dragon, but something far worse—an elf. Actually a whole posse of elves, decked to the nines and glowing. I’d never seen elves glow before, and wondered what kind of magical spell they’d come up with to give them that holier-than-thou halo effect.

“We have returned,” the glowiest one boomed, smiling like a televangelist about ready to ask for donations. “After an eternity in Hel, we have seen the error our ancestors made and are here to beg forgiveness and lend our knowledge and skills to guide the humans. I am Elyan. And I have been chosen to be the liaison between the Alliance of Elven Kingdoms and the Ruling Council of Angels.”

Eternity my ass. That Elyan elf didn’t look any more than eight thousand years old. I’d hardly consider that an eternity. Their saccharine speech made me want to gag, but it had the opposite effect on the angels. The three newbies jumped to their feet, exclaiming how this was just the moment they’d prayed for. I swear I heard harps and halleluiahs. Gregory sheathed his sword, a wary expression on his face. Rafi seemed fascinated by the whole elven party. Gabe scowled, although with him that was a normal facial expression. Resting Scowl Face.

“Why are you glowing?” Rafi asked, his lips twitching. “Has Hel suddenly become incredibly radioactive? Were you sprinkled with fairy dust?”

The elves recoiled in unison at the mention of fairies.

“They don’t glow in Hel,” I added, stepping up beside Rafi. “And I’ve seen plenty of elves in the last few days to know they don’t glow here either.”

“It’s a spell,” Elyon admitted. “It will help in making ourselves known to the humans.”

I suddenly understood. Glowing elves wouldn’t be mistaken for escapees from the Renaissance Fair, or crazy college kids on holiday. Glowing elves would throw the humans off base, give the invaders a chance to present themselves as a superior species here to “help.”

It was like every alien B-grade horror movie ever made. And this story was going to have the same ending.

“You’re not a High Lord.” I’ll admit my tone was rather hostile. “I know you’ve all unified as some kind of United Elven Alliance, but you still have High Lords running the show, and you’re not one of them. Why would the elves insult the Ruling Council by sending some peon to be their liaison? Bring me a High Elf.”

“I’m sure they are busy seeing to the migration of their people,” Usurper snapped at me. “This is strictly their messenger.”

“Which is better than an e-mail or a burning bush,” I said. “But he’s still a peon.”

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