Exodus (Imp Series Book 8) Read online

  “I’m not going to eat it,” Dar said, frantically trying to move the basket and fend off my grasping hands at the same time. “Ignore it, Mal. I’ll help you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just go home. I’ll meet you there tonight.”

  Like hell I was going home. If whatever baby he was hiding in that basket made Dar do a one-eighty about helping me, then I totally wanted to see it.

  “A hybrid? Were you creating again?” Dar didn’t like anyone to know about it, but he was quite the ho when it came to babymaking. I was positive Hel was filled with hybrids of his get. But with a human? He’d never gone there as far as I knew.

  “Does Asta know?” I craned my neck trying to see the baby. “Angels don’t like us creating with humans. And I’m not sure Asta is the type to want you fucking with them, even if you aren’t producing offspring. I’m surprised she hasn’t killed you.”

  And then I saw it. I saw a wing. A small wing with bright gold feathers flapping angrily in a pile of laundry. The baby screamed in protest, T-shirts and underwear flying everywhere.

  Fuck. I could do nothing but stare, my mouth wide open as Dar pulled the child from the basket, holding it close. It was naked with golden-brown skin and wispy curls that matched. Its wings sparkled in the sunlight nearly blinding me.

  Her. Because she was naked and was unashamedly flashing me her goodies as she twisted in Dar’s arms to see me. Golden-brown eyes stared into mine.

  “I think maybe you took the gold theme a bit too far,” I told Dar when I finally managed to speak.

  This is why he couldn’t help on my project. If Asta got called away, he needed to babysit. I had no idea how long it took baby angels to mature. Back in Hel, we demons were placed into a dwarven foster care for a few centuries until we were able to survive on our own. Dar had no dwarves to help. It was just him and Asta, and the first angel created in over two and a half million years.

  “She…I…I mean we…” Dar stuttered.

  I waved his sputtered words away. “You can’t keep it in your pants. I get it. That’s okay. I’m a big fan of sex, too, and angel-fucking is pretty damned awesome. But a baby? Seriously Dar, I know you like to throw hybrids all over Hel, but creating with an angel? Now? With all the shit that’s going on?”

  “I’ll admit the timing wasn’t ideal, but we couldn’t help ourselves,” Dar protested.

  Creating took intent. It’s not like the condom broke and Goldie here was an oops. With demons, and angels, there were no oopses.

  “Oh the timing is sooo far from ideal,” I scolded.

  There was a rush of wings, hurried footsteps. “I’m here,” a panicked voice said. “Came back as fast as I could—oh.”

  Asta skidded to a stop, staring at me. She was a beautiful angel with the same golden-brown skin as her child. Her hair and eyes were closer to brown than the baby’s gold, but I could see the resemblance. Demons are in charge of forming offspring, of giving them their first shape. Dar was so fucking besotted he’d given his daughter pretty close to a mirror image of Asta.

  And he’d done an amazing job, as he always did when creating. Still, this was only going to end in disaster. And I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do to help the situation.

  “Both of you.” I waved a finger at the pair who suddenly looked like teenagers that had been caught making out in the mall parking lot. “How do you expect to keep this baby angel hidden? Because you know she has to be hidden, right?”

  “That’s why Dar made her look like a human baby,” Asta said, glancing down at her child. “It works most of the time, unless she decides to reveal her wings and fly around.”

  Yes, because wings would definitely be in keeping with the guise of a human baby. I threw up my hands. “Who else knows?” I doubted Gregory or he would have been yelling my ears off about my irresponsible brother corrupting one of his Grigori. And which choir did Asta belong to? Oh shit, Gabriel’s. Well, she definitely didn’t tell him. Although the guy had several times protected those he cared about by hiding damning information, like the Nephilim Jaq’s existence.

  “Leethu,” Dar admitted. “And a human friend of Asta’s who sometimes babysits for us if we’re desperate. Really desperate. We need a dwarf, Mal. Can you bring a dwarf over from Hel? Just for a few centuries until Karrae is okay on her own.”

  “She’ll never be okay on her own.” I gritted my teeth. “Dar this is forbidden. And while you all are allowed to risk your own lives with your relationship, and demons are allowed to risk their own lives by coming across the gates, this is different. You’re risking someone else’s life, someone who can’t survive on her own yet. And you’re doing it when Aaru is two seconds from outright war.”

  “That’s why we did it,” Asta argued. She and Dar exchanged nervous glances. “If I’m recalled and not allowed out of Aaru again. Dar and I may be forever separated. We wanted there to be someone who could serve as proof of our love for each other, someone who would show what could have been, someone who could maybe someday bring about a change. If not now, then in a few million years.”

  “And where is this baby going to live for a few million years? Huh? If you’re stuck in Aaru, that leaves Dar with the baby. Is he supposed to take her to Hel where she’ll be a curiosity and a possession every demon will want to lay claim to? Or perhaps hide her away among the humans like so many of you have done with the Nephilim?”

  And then there was the big question I’d been dreading. “Is she an Angel of Chaos, or one of Order?”

  We were the ones who formed when it came to angelic offspring, and although we honored mutually agreed upon character traits, there still was a lot left up to our discretion. Angelic classification wasn’t one of them. Only the fates decided whether an angel would be one of Order or Chaos, and nothing either parent could do would influence that. Nothing.

  Dar and Asta did that silent eyeball-communication thing again. “Order.”

  Fuck. An Angel of Chaos in Hel wouldn’t have been easy, but at least she would have had a chance at survival. An Angel of Order would be ripped to shreds—after being toyed with for some time. And as tough as Dar was, I doubted he, or I, could protect this baby for long. She belonged in Aaru. But Angels of Order could not create between themselves. They needed a demon, or an Angel of Chaos. And Karrae would be proof of Asta’s sin. She’d be punished, and the baby would likely experience the same fate as the Nephilim had up until recently.

  There had been a huge fight in Aaru about some laboratory method of creating angels. Even the most ridged of them had been enthusiastic about offspring that didn’t require the sullying influence of demons. Karrae, as cute as she was, wouldn’t fare well there, especially with the entire place a warzone.

  It seemed here among the humans would be the best option—an even better option if both her parents could remain and assist with her upbringing.

  Now I had one more reason to worry. One tiny, golden-winged reason

  Chapter 5

  I sat on a hot rock in Hel, legs dangling over the edge as I ate the demon equivalent of an egg salad sandwich. The eggs were from a swamp reptile that could swallow an imp in one bite, and the bread had been meticulously baked by dwarven bakers in a volcanic oven. That made it all the more decadent than the human equivalent. I was the Iblis, the titular leader of Hel. Such food should be my right, but I had to literally beg, borrow and steal to get this fucking sandwich. Just because I had the title of Ha-Satan didn’t mean anyone in Hel gave a shit about it. Or me.

  Even my own household defied me. Ancients ruled theirs with an iron fist. My fist seemed to be more wet paper. My Lows loved me, hanging on my every word and racing off to fuck up every mission I sent them on. I’d give my life for those worthless sons-of-bitches, though. There was something about the adoration, the faith in their eyes as they looked at me…yeah, I’d become a slave to my slaves. I was their protector, unwilling to sacrifice them like the pawns they’d be in any other demon’s household.

  As for my m
ore senior members, well they seemed to have a wary respect for me, but I clearly understood they only had one foot in the pool. Dar was an elder foster sibling, and although he’d pledged allegiance and service to my household in return for taking the heat from Haagenti, he seemed to interpret that service rather lightly. Yes, if I played the heavy he reluctantly complied, but his attention was all on his angelic lover, Asta, and I couldn’t really fault him for that. The pair of them had worked their butts off securing the inter-realm rifts that were occurring, and now with a baby to care for, neither had time for additional projects.

  Leethu was another story. She’d helped big-time when I was disabled and under Ahriman’s thumb. She’d brought the Klee elves into our fold and carried the day among the other elven kingdoms, getting me out of some hot-spots. I loved her with the wary kind of affection a demon has for one who might turn around and bite them when least expected. I trusted Leethu…kinda. I trusted her half-breed daughter far more.

  But it was Leethu I needed most right now. I had lost touch with what was going on in Hel, been blind-sided by an elven plot to disrupt the rule in Aaru as well as the stability of the human realm. Because of my inattention to Hel, the elves had united, killing off the few Lords who’d sided with me. They’d opened up a breathtaking amount of inter-realm gates between the human world and dozens of other places, bringing all sorts of disruptive creatures through the passageways. And they’d sent a demon on a suicidal path of murder and mayhem.

  I might be tasked with raising the FICO scores of less-than-credit-worthy humans. I might be tasked with the care and feeding of Fallen Angels. I might be tasked with a stack of four-five-nine reports for every sentient being I accidently managed to kill, but this elven shit was a priority as was finding Uriel.

  And when it came to elves, Leethu was the only one I trusted who truly knew what the fuck was going on. And she was late to our meeting. And I was about to eat the second egg salad sandwich I’d intended to give to her.

  I was just reaching for the second bundle of yummy goodness when she appeared, gliding across the rocky terrain like she floated inches from the ground. Her long black hair streamed behind her in the breeze, heart-shaped face tilted upward, almond-shaped, black eyes reflecting glints from the sun. She turned those gorgeous eyes toward me, full lips curving upward in a motion that emphasized their bow-shape. Bow. Because a smile like that was an arrow to the heart.

  My foster-sister was a succubus, and every motion of her perfect body was calculated to seduce. Unlike other demons, succubi and incubi gained power through sexual contact—and such sexual contact created a bond that continued to feed them long after they’d moved on to other prey. Leethu, like other sex demons, preferred human victims, but demons were still worthy of effort. The tie wasn’t as strong, and the energy we supplied wasn’t as rich, but we were a notch on the bedpost nonetheless.

  “Hungry?” I asked, hoping her answer was no. These sandwiches were damned good. I was regretting I’d only paid the dwarf for two. And regretting that I’d intended the second one for Leethu instead of hogging both for myself.

  “Ooo, egg salad! Dwarven bread too. You always had the dwarven friends, NiNi. They don’t like me and I can never manage to purchase things like these sandwiches from them.”

  Leethu pouted, which made me want to fall into the softness of her embrace even more. I’d wanted her since I was a little imp in our dwarven foster home, and centuries had done nothing to dull that desire. What the centuries had done was give me a healthy sense of caution when it came to sex demons. I’d run headlong into an inferno, piss off an ancient angel, back talk a powerful demon, but I wasn’t about to give in to the siren-song of a succubus. I might be a reckless imp, an Angel of Chaos, but I still had my limits.

  It seems dwarves had them too. “Here. Although I shouldn’t give it to you. What the fuck is up with you keeping Dar’s kid a secret from me? If she hadn’t tried to launch herself out of a laundry basket, I still would be in the dark.” I handed her a sandwich and watched as she began to nibble it, somehow managing to make gluttony look sexy.

  “He made me promise,” she told me in between bites. “I’m supposed to be finding him and Asta a dwarf to help with childcare, but none of them want to leave Hel. Plus every time I get a lead on one, I get summoned.”

  I blinked in surprise. “More than once?” Sex demons were favorites for humans to summon, but it was usually a one-time occurrence. No one liked being a sex slave on auto-dial, and sex demons liked it even less. They granted their summoner’s wish, giving them the ride of their life. Then they either killed them or engineered some way to ensure there would not be a repeat occurrence. I once came across a man who’d been institutionalized, drooling and babbling mindlessly as he masturbated nonstop throughout the day. They had to sedate him or he wouldn’t sleep. Steep price to pay for one night of mind-blowing pleasure.

  Leethu sighed. “Sadly yes. He’s tricky, and I can’t get him to have sex with me. Third time’s a charm they say, though. The next time it happens I vow his brains will paint the pavement.”

  Pretty harsh words for a succubus. Leethu must be at the end of her rope to threaten something so vulgar and messy. I nodded in sympathy.

  “I hate to add one more thing to your list, but I need you to do something beyond screening for nannies and murdering your summoner.”

  Leethu rolled her eyes. “Sure. Why not. What do you need, NiNi?”

  “I need you to find an angel.” I let that sink in a moment. “It’s Uriel. She’s ditched the Ruling Council to slap on a hair-shirt and go on pilgrimage among the humans.”

  “Got it,” Leethu said. “An angel. Female form. Wearing a shirt made of hair. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Maybe female. And the hair-shirt thing was a metaphor. I’ve got no idea what she, or he, might be wearing or how old he or she might appear. And she’s grieving or some shit like that, so she is going to be blending in among the humans.”

  “One angel among seven billion humans. No problem. I’ll see you in a few thousand years or so.”

  Leethu could be such a smart ass sometimes.

  “It won’t be that hard,” I lied. “She’s an angel. They suck at trying to blend in with the humans. They always fuck up their human form somehow. You’ll be able to spot her a mile away. I promise you.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot,” Leethu said. And yes, she was lying. I didn’t know how else to convince her, so instead I just watched her finish her sandwich before I got to the other business at hand.

  “So, what’s your intel say?” I asked.

  Leethu licked each golden-scaled finger, eyeing me seductively from beneath heavy lids. “News is that the elves are planning to send some test groups now, to gauge the lay of the land and determine the best location for their base. After they have a good idea where they plan to settle, they’ll start the big migrations.”

  Elves. We’d send Low in first as spear fodder, kind of like tossing our hat in the door and listening for gunshots. They were doing the same with whatever citizens they’d deemed least important. “Any idea where the test groups are planning to appear? I’m assuming they’ve got a few places in mind.”

  Leethu nodded. “They’ve slipped one or two elves across the gates to gather intel, but so far I only know they are looking at a place in the central U.S., one in France, and one more somewhere north of the equator.”

  I looked down the rocky cliff and across the verdant valley. Klee elves aside, most of them preferred a cooler environment with seasons. And from what Leethu had said, they were inexplicably shunning the southern hemisphere. Odd, but it made my job a little easier. Central US, no doubt because it was appealing agricultural-wise. They could create their own forests, so miles of farmland wouldn’t be a detriment. France. Yeah, wine. The other one could be anywhere in Europe, north Asia, or Canada. We’d just have to keep our ears open. With seven billion humans, a group of elves wouldn’t be hard to spot. And they were so fu
cking arrogant that they’d probably not bother to learn the language or dress like the locals. I chuckled thinking of the humans’ response. They’d be lucky if they didn’t get their heads shot off.

  “Is every elf in Hel migrating, or just certain groups?”

  “I think a few dozen may be staying behind, human sympathizers mostly who have been assisting in Libertytown. Plan for the fact that you’ve getting three hundred thousand elves on your doorstep.”

  That was still a lot less than seven billion humans. I wondered if they realized how outnumbered they’d be, or how demonic humans had become? I’m sure the bewildered and isolated slaves they’ve brought to Hel via their elf traps through the millennia gave them false confidence in their own superiority. There were things that the elves were superior in skill-wise. I wasn’t sure how that was going to play out, though. Elven magic didn’t always work as expected in the human world. At least the humans who’d returned after decades of servitude as mages to the elves had told me so. It might be a human glitch and elven magic would work just fine across the gates. If so, we were in for a world of trouble. Literally.

  “They’ll need a distraction,” I mused. “And that little trick with the traveler’s cloak and the gem isn’t going to be enough. The gem is gone and although all those wild gates are a royal pain in the ass, they won’t keep anyone from noticing an influx of pointy-eared motherfuckers on the commuter bus.

  Leethu shrugged. “Do they? The humans will be fascinated, at least until one of the elves tries to enslave them. We might have been able to bring the hammer down on the elves when they were a bunch of fractured kingdoms fighting amongst themselves. Now they’re united, where the demons are not. Few care that you’ve the Sword of the Iblis, or about your feathered wings. The elves are well aware of this. And they know an imp and a household full of Lows, give or take a few of us, isn’t going to be able to stop them. I’m not sure the humans are organized enough to do so either.”