Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) (26 page)

“You have no fucking idea what kind of bad shit went down. We were betrayed, not that I ever trusted this wild scheme of Baphomet’s. Did he make it home?”

What was he talking about? He’d killed Baphomet — devoured him. I turned around to face him, wondering if he was truly insane, or if there was something behind his ramblings.

Before I could inform him of his partner’s demise and question him further, Raim halted, a look of pure fury and hate coming over his face.

“You bitch! You sold me out!”

I heard a familiar hiss behind me and jumped to the side as a streak of white energy flashed past, exploding a good–sized clump of trees and scrub brush. Raim dove out of the way and the blast blew a hole in the ground, sending the demon tumbling in a spray of dirt and pulverized wood. With a scream, the earth trembled around us. I felt oddly unbalanced, as if the very ground were crumbling to nothingness under my feet, then Gregory snatched me, turning me toward his chest. Hard bits of earth pelted my back and legs while I buried my face safely into the angel’s polo shirt and shielded my head. The blast quickly subsided into silence, and I lifted my face to peer questioningly into Gregory’s grim face.

Nearly twenty feet behind him was the dense forest, but as I turned my head, I saw a blasted clearing instead of foliage, and a hole where I’d been standing just seconds before. Unlike in Seattle, this hole was nearly fifty feet across and at least twenty feet deep.

“Where is he?” I demanded, twisting around to try and see. I didn’t exactly want the angel to let me fall into the deep hole of dirt and rock, but neither of us could successfully mount either an attack or a defense intertwined in this position.

The angel moved backwards, and I realized his wings were visible. The decorative ones remained stationary, while the massive main wings beat silently, maintaining our hovering position as we cleared the edges of the hole. Gregory descended, gently setting me down before hiding his wings.

“He’s gone. I couldn’t tell if he teleported or used the cover of the blast to slip away.”

“You let him get away?” I snarled. “I had him.
Had
him. Now we’ll never find him again.”

Gregory huffed, his hands roaming quickly over me to check for damage. “Sorry. I was more concerned about keeping you from being blasted into tiny particles, or devoured. I guess I should have left you to your fate and just worried about catching the murderer.”

Last year he would have. And he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I was grateful for his quick actions, but if he hadn’t shown up in the first place, they wouldn’t have been needed.

“Where were you?” I pounded his chest with my fist. “You’re gone for over a day, then come swooping in at exactly the wrong time. Where the fuck have you been?”

He glared down at me. “I had things to do — personal, private things that I’m not about to discuss. I got news last night that the killer had once again tried for the Seattle gate, had been seriously injured by one of my enforcers and had taken off.”

“Personal, private things,” I shouted at him. “You’re off doing personal, private things with a killer on the loose? And you have the nerve to question my priorities.”

His form shimmered in anger. “Yes. And I do question your priorities, as well as your motives. I come back, thinking you’re just out hiking, and find you with him. Were you helping him? Were you going to hide him from me and sneak him through the gate?”

“I don’t even know where the fucking gate is.” By this point I was screaming at him, wanting desperately to punch a hole through the middle of his thick head. “I’m
not
helping him, I’m trying to catch him. I had him ready to come with me willingly. He thought his household sent me to help him get back home. I was trying to get him further away from the humans before I tried to take him out with my Iblis weapon. Now he’ll never trust me again; I’ll never be able to get near enough to him. You fucked this all up.”

“You’re ill–equipped to take out this demon, even with your sword, or shotgun, or whatever you’re using it as now. Stay at the inn, handle the information gathering, and leave the rest to me.”

“Fuck you!” I shouted. “I’m the Iblis. I killed Haagenti and a bunch of demons far above my level. I can certainly ‘take out’ this guy without any help from you.”

“He devours,” Gregory shouted back. “I don’t want him to send you over the edge. I can’t risk you losing control.”

“I’m fine. I’m not going to go crazy and eat the universe.”

The angel took several deep breaths, his anger fading. “You will, eventually. Hopefully in the very distant future. If I can help delay the process in any way, I will. And I really don’t care whether you like it or not.”

He vanished, leaving me sweaty beside what appeared to be a giant sinkhole at the edge of the woods. I knew what he meant, but I wasn’t going to live my life counting the moments until I went over the brink. If it ever happened, fine. But until then, I was the Iblis; I was Az; I was Samantha Martin, and I wasn’t going to go easily to could be my end.

~22~

I
didn’t see any reason to rush back to the hotel, especially since I needed to burn off some of my temper before I took it out on Gina’s adorable B&B. So I explored Juneau, blending in with the cruise ship tourist crowd looking at whale–themed shot glasses and t–shirts, all made in China. Making my way north into the working part of the city, I discovered a little fish shop tucked away behind an insurance agency near the waterfront. The staff was more than happy to provide me with samples, and seemed oddly delighted by my willingness to try anything they had in its fresh, raw state. By the time I left, I had nearly five pounds of wrapped bundles under my arm. By the time I arrived back at the inn, at least one pound was already happily in my stomach.

“Do you have a fridge to store these in?” I asked Gina. She glanced at the labeled packages, pausing in surprise and lifting the nearly empty one closer to her nose to sniff.

“Seal? Not exactly the first choice of visitors to Alaska.”

“You should try it. It’s chewy and dipped in this greasy oil. I think it’s one of my favorite things.”

Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “Most people cook it first.”

That sounded good too, but at the rate I was going through it, I doubted there would be any left to cook.

“Demons.” She said under her breath, as if we were completely beyond her comprehension.

I went to go upstairs when she halted me, an odd look on her face.

“There’s an angel up there. He didn’t seem like he was planning to lay in wait to kill you, but just in case, can you please not bleed on the quilt? It’s handmade.”

I paused, one foot hovering above the step, and stared at her in astonishment. She was warning me. Yeah, I know she was concerned about her quilts, but that wasn’t her only motivation.

“He caught up with me in town. He’s the guy I told you about, the one I came here with.”

She shrugged, gathering up the packages of fish in her arms. “Suit yourself. I’ll go ahead and charge your credit card, just in case.”

I could hear Gregory in the bedroom talking on his phone when I came in. It was bizarre, how quickly he’d taken to human technology. I wondered if one day I’d come home to find him and Wyatt duking it out on the Xbox.

Taking my cue from him, I dialed Wyatt to give him the bad news. “He got away. I almost had him, but he blew a chunk out of a forest and managed to give us the slip. I don’t know how we’re going to find him now.”

Wyatt made a sympathetic noise. “I can track his credit card usage, but there’s a delay in posting — he could be long gone by the time you get there. If I freeze his accounts with a fraud, I can find out real–time, but it would tip him off.”

“He’s already tipped off.” I looked toward Gregory. “I think we’re probably going to have to stake out the gate up here. He’s got nothing left. It’s his last chance, and he’s going to have to go for it.”

“He’ll be desperate, with nothing to lose,” Wyatt warned. “Let Gregory deal with him. You just stay safe.”

I felt a wave of irritation. Why was everyone suddenly wanting me to play it safe? When did an imp ever play it safe?

“I’ll let you know what’s going on,” I promised. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Do you really?” an angel’s voice said from behind me.

“Really what?” I turned to face him. Gregory always looked the same in his jeans and polo shirt, so far from the stereotypical angelic attire. He had his arms crossed at his chest, his expression unreadable.

“Do you really love Wyatt?”

It was one of the few times I could recall him calling Wyatt by his name, instead of toy, or some other derogative title.

“Yes. He’s fun; he’s kind and giving, honest and smart. He sees me for who I really am, and while he’s not always thrilled with what he sees, he loves me anyway.”

Gregory stood before me, staring with that inscrutable air about him.

“You need to let your Owned souls go, little Cockroach. It’s twisted and sick to do such a thing to another being.”

Where had this come from?

“Worse than devouring?” I teased.

He scowled. “I am very serious. When you were angels, you didn’t do such things. Those souls trapped inside you hinder your positive evolution; they will be your downfall. You must let them go.”

“We’re not angels. We’re demons. We Own, and some of us devour. I know you don’t like it, but you didn’t seem to have liked us much when we were angels up in Aaru either.”

He winced, but ignored my barb. “I see your potential, the possibility of redemption for you if you change your path. It’s true that Angels of Chaos were always different, always difficult to understand and appreciate, but they were still angels. You
are
still angels, somewhere deep inside. This, I know.”

“Why are you always trying to redeem me?” I snapped. He’d hit a sore spot, something that had been chewing away at me for a long time. Why couldn’t he come to care for me as the demon I was?

“Because that’s the only thing that will keep you alive,” he snapped back. “You stupid imp. Do you not think I see lines of possibility for you too? I see probable futures before you and I fear for you.”

His omnipotence. But even an ancient angel wasn’t infallible in predicting impending doom — mine or anyone’s.

“You only have a thirty–percent accuracy,” I reminded him. “Even with your super–duper special algorithms.”

“I don’t like the thirty percent I see,” he hissed.

I shrugged in my best “whatever” attitude and whirled around to storm out of the room. I made it two steps before he grabbed my arm and spun me around against him.

“I’m calling in my favors,” he told me between clenched teeth.

Fuck. He had quite a few.

“Twelve. Twelve favors for twelve souls.”

I made a choked noise. He couldn’t be serious?

“I’m very serious. And I get to pick which twelve souls.”

I had two–hundred–and–twenty–eight Owned human souls. The loss of twelve wouldn’t be a big deal, but I got the feeling this would go on until I had none left. Gregory was very good at racking up the favors, and I was forbidden from Owning any further humans. It might take a few decades, but eventually, he’d insist I free them all.

“You are such an asshole,” I snarled. “I refuse to grant you this favor.”

I knew I had to do it, that my little tantrum would do no good in the end. He knew it too from the smile that flitted across his face. He leaned down and put his forehead against mine, looking stern.

“Twelve souls.”

I ground my teeth as he named them one at a time. Did he know every being I Owned? Was there anything this angel didn’t know? With each name, I freed a soul, setting it loose to disburse wherever the dead go. At eleven he paused, and I waited.

“Samantha Martin.”

I caught my breath, feeling tears spring to my eyes. Not her! Not the woman I’d been for so long. I searched, feeling her panic and anger as I struggled to pry her loose from my being.

“I can’t.”

He gripped my arms painfully, giving me a brief shake. “You must. I’m calling in a favor.”

“No, I can’t. She won’t go. I don’t …I don’t really Own her.”

This was embarrassing. Almost as bad as being a devouring spirit. What other failings would this angel discover about me? How could I possibly think we could have something between us? He was an angel, ancient and powerful. I was a lowly imp, a devouring spirit, and now this.

“You don’t Own her?” he asked, confused.

“Not really.” I squirmed. “It’s kind of like devouring, only the soul isn’t destroyed. It is assimilated. She’s not fully assimilated, only partial.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We made a deal. How do you think I masqueraded as a human for so long undetected? I had to
be
a human to do that. I gave her the life she really wanted, the life she felt she should have had, and she gave me her humanity.”

“Partially. You said you didn’t fully assimilate her, so you should be able to let her go.”

“She won’t go! I tried, and she won’t leave. A willing partner must also agree to leave, or the deal continues.”

He stared at me, dumbstruck.

“I tried. I know I must grant you the favor, but she does not recognize your authority over her contract with me.”

He shook his head. “Fine. Let Antonio Scarletti go.”

I released him, and breathed a sigh of relief. I’d need to be very careful in the future with my favors.

“I want you to promise me you will never Own your human toy. That you’ll walk away from Wyatt and let him live his life in peace.”

“Sorry dude, you’re out of favors.” The funny thing was, I’d already vowed that I would never Own Wyatt, and the sexual part of our relationship seemed to be maturing into something quite different from what I’d ever experienced before.

“Leave him alone.” The hands tightened on my arms once more.

Asshole. He’d gotten me to give up twelve souls, be he wasn’t going to dictate my relationships.

“Why do you care what I do with Wyatt? He put a bullet through your head. A really big fucking bullet, too. I would have thought you’d be happy to see him an Owned soul.”