Exodus (Imp Series Book 8) (28 page)

Not that I wanted to handle that many Fallen, but what I’d discovered is the angels tarred with that brush had no authority in Aaru, and they lost a good bit of their power. I just didn’t understand the process of how an angel became Fallen. Gabriel had banished Nils. Maybe if Gregory banished thousands of angels it would change the odds.

Gregory smiled, as if he’d read my mind. “If we win, they’ll become yours as the demons in Hel are considered yours.”

So basically
not
mine. The Iblis was an empty title as far as the residents of Hel were concerned. If the rebels were banished, I’d just have a bunch more in this mythical fifth choir that didn’t give a flying fuck about me. Of course, that was if we won.

“And win we will. Now that the elves have rushed our timeline considerably, we don’t have the luxury of waiting for years to make our move. We’ll need to attack Aaru and do it within the next day.”

Ugh. I didn’t have enough demons for a true army. And I was terribly worried about how my little group would fare in Aaru. None of them had ever been there before. It was alarming, all the sensory deprivation, feeling like your skin was about to crawl right off your body. Add to that fighting incorporeal angels…

“Can’t we draw them here among the humans? My demons would be at a much greater advantage here, and the rebel angels wouldn’t. Most probably haven’t ever been out of Aaru and would be awkward walking around in a physical form, let alone fighting in one.

“They would never leave Aaru voluntarily. The three new Ruling Council members were livid at the idea of coming here for today’s meeting. There’s already talk of meetings only being held in Aaru. Without you, of course.”

This was getting old. Really fucking old.

“Okay. I’ll go to Hel and get my demons prepared, and let’s do this thing.”

Gregory nodded. “Bring them here, to your house. I’ll give you the signal and you bring them in to Aaru. You’ll be coming right in the middle of the fight. I want you all to be my surprise when things are getting rough.”

I was completely okay being his backup. “And when we win, Aaru will be littered with dead angels.”

Gregory winced. “I hope not to go that far. The best scenario would be if they would surrender, but given the escalated fighting, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Okay…then what other option do you have beyond killing them? Is there an Aaru prison for half your population? Mind scrubbing and brainwashing program?”

“No. If they refuse to surrender there’s one other option. I can’t do it unless we have the upper hand in battle, though. I can expel them from Aaru. Lock them out. I’ve done it before. I never wanted to do it again, but it’s better than killing tens of thousands of angels.”

What, what, what? “Expel them? Like banish them? All at once, all of them?” So that was the eject button I’d theorized about and he’d denied the existence of. Sneaky bastard.

“Exile is similar to banishment. It takes an enormous amount of power. Right at the end of the war, when we’d lost so many angels that I couldn’t take it anymore, I forced an expulsion. All the Angels of Chaos. That gave us enough of an edge that we were able to push for a treaty.”

What a devious thing to do, pushing the eject button rather than finish the fight. I liked it—seemed more demonic than angelic, though. I guess when faced with the prospect of killing his own brother, this was the lesser of two evils.

“So how the fuck do you do that? Say ‘I expel you,’ then recite thousands of names as fast as you can before one of them breaks through the line and stabs you?”

“Not quite. I command that they leave Aaru and drive my sword into the firmament. It takes a special sword—mine to be exact. And it takes a level of power such that I’m the only angel capable of doing it.”

Sounded sketchy to me, but I’d take it. I was doubtful we could win this battle, let alone the war. I just didn’t have the demon firepower. Gregory’s angels were only carrying half of Aaru. And if we prevailed, the rebel angels could scatter, regroup, then fight again. Eventually they’d wear Gregory and his brothers down like those fucking fire ants.

“Okay, so you guys fight. You call us in to turn the tide, and before it can turn back you expel the whole lot of them?”

He nodded.

“Where? Where do they go?”

“Here.”

Here. As in among the humans who were already dealing with wild gates and a dragon and elves. How was that a good thing?

“And the humans wind up with thirty or so thousand angels. So we’re not only saddling them with a bunch of asshole elves, but a bunch of asshole angels too? When are these poor humans going to be more than a garbage pit to you?”

He grimaced. “Once we have control of Aaru, we’ll be able to rein in the elves. And the angels will have less power, they’ll be out of their element. They’ll be forced to be in physical form, dealing with both the humans and their lessened powers.”

I still didn’t like the idea. The Ancients in Hel weren’t exactly powerless. Was this stripping of power only a temporary thing? Would they be wandering among the humans forever, or go through that stupid six hundred page reinstatement program?

“And who are going to be in charge of these angels, huh? Someone has to make sure they don’t fuck things up even further among the humans. Remember the tenth choir? I might not be omnipotent, but I’m prophesizing an ugly future.”

“The Grigori, and…”

I waited for the rest of his sentence, knowing what was coming.

“You. After expulsion, they’d be in the fifth choir.”

Who made up these rules? Certainly not me, that’s who.

“Fifth choir. Like Dalmai? Or like Nils? Will I be the only one who can kill them? Sorry, but I’m struggling to see how the fuck dumping thirty thousand angels on the human world is going to be a good thing.”

“They won’t be like Nils or even like Dalmai, they’ll be like the demons, only still angels,” Gregory admitted. “They can be killed. They won’t have any mandate to obey you beyond your status as the Queen of Hel.”

I didn’t like it one bit. I’d rather go kill the lot of them. But if this is what Gregory said was best, then so be it. Besides, I was willing to bet these expelled angels would be working their asses off to go through a reinstatement program and get back to Aaru. I’d thought some time among the humans would do the angelic host good. This might be the right decision. Gregory knew the situation in Aaru far better than I did. And I bowed to his experience and superior knowledge. At least this time, I bowed.

“Then if you need an army. I’d better get crackin’,” I told him. “By sunup tomorrow we’ll be here, awaiting your command.”

Gregory looked rather grim at the prospect. “Be ready to fight.”

I was. I knew my demons would be. And I could only hope we survived to see the next day.

I
dumped the load of dwarven-made weapons on the table. They clattered noisily, several of them sliding off to bounce on the stone floor. I winced, thankful that Stengal and Andor weren’t around to see my disrespectful treatment of their artwork.

And artwork they were. Swords so sharp I feared they might cut right through my floor. The blades glowed silver, light as an angel wing and sturdy as a demon’s horn. If they held up in Aaru as their makers had promised, I had no doubt that they’d do some serious damage against their opponents.

“Get ready,” I shouted. “We’re moving right now.”

If the sound of weaponry falling on the floor hadn’t brought the demons, my announcement certainly had. I heard the thumps of footsteps, the scratch of hurried claws, and the stomp of hooves. Lows rushed into the foyer, all of them chattering excitedly, then the greed demons, hastily stuffing bits of silverware and artwork into pockets. The warmongers were the last to arrive, strolling with an unhurried grace, the thrum of their energy belying their casual stance.

“I’m transporting you all to my house across the gateways where we’ll await our call. Within the next day, we’ll battle. Now is the time to back out if you have any doubts, or if you have suddenly remembered an important engagement, or you need to wash your hair or something.”

Nobody backed out. The Lows squealed in excitement, arms reaching for the weaponry. I pushed them off, making sure that the Warmongers got their pick first. These were the demons I expected to put these swords and knives to good use. For all I knew my Lows would be head-butting the angels and using the swords to chop walnuts or firewood or something. And for all I knew the greed demons would take the swords and run, never to be seen again.

Once everyone had at least one of the weapons, I silenced them all with a raised hand. “Once again, we’ll be fighting angels in Aaru where they will not be in corporeal form. There will be a signal, most likely a scary big angel shoving his sword into the ground. That’s when we’ll get the heck out. Until then, kill at will.”

They cheered.

“How will we know the good angels from the bad angels?” Snip asked, his nose quivering in excitement. “You said some of the angels will be on our side. I don’t want to accidently kill the angel friends thinking they’re the bad angels. And from what I’ve heard, they all sort of look alike.”

They did. And quite honestly I didn’t think I’d be able to tell them apart either, aside from Gregory and his three brothers.

“Hopefully none of the angels on our side will engage you in fighting. All I can say to advise you is just kill whoever attacks you, kill whoever attacks any other demon. Basically just kill any angel you see. The ones on our side will just have to get out of the way if they want to live.”

My words generated another loud cheer.

“Souvenirs?” It was Hammer, that asshole warmonger that reminded me of my long-dead bully of a foster-brother.

“If you want to risk your neck stooping to pick up angel feathers in the middle of a fight, be my guest. I personally don’t give a fuck whether you grab a few souvenirs. Heck, I know most of you are doing this for the boost in status and the effect on your reputation here. Just don’t toss the battle in your haste to grab some trophies.”

Hammer snorted and gave me a thumbs-up.

“Anything else?” I asked.

Scream raised his paw. “We’re in your house human-side until the battle? Can we get pizza? Deep dish with mushrooms?”

Oh for fuck sake. “Where do you think I live, Chicago? You’ll get hand-tossed, and you’ll like it. Any other questions?”

That was about the time that the five imps came pouring in. They snatched up the remaining weapons, a few of them testing the blades’ sharpness on my walls and furniture. I was concerned about having them in my home. Beyond the usual shit getting stolen, there was a good chance my furnishings wouldn’t survive intact.

“Okay, a few more things. I’ve got a hellhound and a half-demon horse. You’ll want to avoid them or suffer whatever injury they cause in silence. I also have a dragon—”

That produced a deafening series of squeals.

“Gold? Silver?”

“Can we ride him? How high does he fly?”

“Is he coming to Aaru to fight angels with us?”

I held up my hand. “The dragon is not coming with us. He’s red and breathes fire. I’d advise against trying to ride him. There is also a human who lives in my house—I’ll kill anyone who lays a hand or claw on her. And there’s a bunch of elves in my field. And one in my house. Oh, and a Fallen Angel, and one more angel who’s there as a sort of punishment. Leave the Fallen alone, but you can mess with the other angel. Just don’t kill him. I’ve got more chores for him to do and I’ll be pissed if he dies before I get around to having him do those.”

“Sure we can’t practice on him?” Hammer swung his sword in an admirable display of skill.

“Nope. At least not until he finishes bailing hay and rebuilding my guest house.”

The demons gathered close. I closed my eyes, wondering how much energy it was going to cost me to transport forty-odd demons to my earthly home.

The answer was a lot. We appeared in my great room, some of them falling as they materialized on top of couches, coffee tables and chairs. Nyalla and Boomer came running at the crash noise, and stared. The hellhound took a careful look around, began to slink away, then changed his mind, instead placing himself in front of Nyalla and baring his teeth.

That was my Boomer-boy. Retreat and hide was his first choice in any conflict, but he was loyal to a fault and wouldn’t hesitate to protect those he loved. Which usually was only me. I was glad to see he counted Nyalla in the very select group of those worth risking his life for.

“Sam!” Nyalla shoved her way past Boomer as well as the demons, who were staggering around trying to shake off the dizziness of transport. And vomiting. Lots of vomiting. I mentally added that task to the angel’s to-do list. Clean up puke.

“Sam! The elves, they’re gone!”

Oh thank the fates! It was about time Gregory came through with his Elf Island resort/penitentiary/acclimation facility. I’d never been so glad to get news in my life. Maybe now the county and the neighbors would get the fuck off my back about illegal campgrounds and permitting shit.

“A group of elves came and took them all. Some were crying. None of them wanted to go, but they forced them. They even came to the house to get Lysile and Ptellia and the one in chains in the basement, but Boomer scared them off.”

Shit. As much as I wanted to get rid of my unwanted guests, I wasn’t happy that some group of assholes forced them to go against their will. They’d been eager to go to Elf Island, eager to start their new lives here.

“How did they manage to force forty elves to go with them? Why didn’t Little Red stop them? Or Nils? Or Diablo?”

Well, I knew why Diablo didn’t stop them. That horse hated elves. He was probably celebrating right now.

“Nils went to search for the High Lords, like you said. Little Red went off to hunt for food. He’s a growing dragon, you know. A side of beef from the freezer is only going to last so long.”

Damn. I’d been so worried about feeding the elves so they didn’t head out and get picked off by the vampires who still hovered close by my property that I’d forgotten about Little Red. Hadn’t the neighbor’s cow been enough? Boomer took care of his own needs, supplementing doggie kibble with roadkill and the occasional corpse. Diablo just ate grass like a regular horse. But Little Red…yes, he was a growing dragon. And I’m sure that frozen side of beef had only lasted one day at the most, and the neighbors were probably getting rather savvy about locking up their livestock. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t anyone reminded me to feed my dragon?