Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2) (19 page)

BOOK: Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2)
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He put down the petition and looked up at me.

“I don’t like you dealing with that angel, Sam. I worry that he’ll lose his temper and kill you. And I’m jealous, too. I see how you are with him. I can’t compete.” He sighed. “Not that I expect this thing between us to last long. One day, when you and I have worked our way through the Kama Sutra, you’re going to grow bored with me and toss me aside for someone else, like that jockey. We humans will always be just toys to you.”

“No, Wyatt.” I moved over to him. “I’ll admit I’m fascinated by Gregory, but that doesn’t lessen at all what I feel for you. You’re not a toy to me. You never were, and you never will be.”

He reached over and pulled me onto his lap, squeezing me tight. The tension cleared and I suddenly felt that all was well between us. Better than well.

“Good,” he grinned. “Now tell me what kinky things your beautiful demon-self wants to do tonight. All the details.”

“Well,” I hesitated. He looked at me approvingly, nodding for me to go on.

“Okay, I would love to have sex in the tub.”

“Sounds fun.” His hands moved slowly over my skin.

I was encouraged by how he’d accepted my first form, by how quickly he’d accepted my assurances of what he meant to me. So I let it all out with uncharacteristic honesty.

“A tub filled with blood. I can strangle you right before you orgasm. Not kill you, just suffocate you enough to give it that great edge. With a noose made of intestines. Maybe I’ll gnaw on the other end.” My voice trailed off as I imagined it all. I was so turned on.

Wyatt made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a cough.

“Now, I’m not saying ‘no’ here, but maybe we can use wine instead of the blood and hold off on the auto-erotic asphyxiation and the noose of entrails. Save that for a special occasion in the very distant future.”

He didn’t run for the hills. He’d seen my first form, had a glimpse of who I really was deep down, and he didn’t run. Maybe this could work after all. Everything tightened, then I felt as if something cracked inside me. Warmth ran through my core. Maybe Wyatt was more than my best friend, more than a boyfriend. I held him tight, feeling his skin against mine, breathing in his special smell, then I got up and headed for the kitchen.

“I’ll have to see if I have enough wine,” I told him.

Chapter 16

T
here was frost coating the stubble in the fields as I pulled my car into the empty ice cream shop parking lot. Originally the plan was a night time run along the C&O canal towpath, but we’d found out the path would be absolutely deserted on a weekday morning in October. It was a perfect opportunity for a daylight run. The train station parking lot at Point of Rocks where I normally would have parked was packed with commuters, so Candy had suggested we park a few miles down the road at this creamery. She knew the owners. I eyed the closed sign, wishing they were open, but I guess not many people ate ice cream early morning on a weekday with frost on the ground.

“Gossip,” Candy announced pulling a bag from her car.

“Bring it on,” I encouraged.

“We have a new angel.” She had the air of one delivering the news of royal birth. She paused a moment for maximum impact, and to allow my curiosity to skyrocket. She definitely had my undivided attention.

“His name is Naromi. He goes primarily in male form, although he is still fairly androgynous. He’s supposed to be a temporary assignment until Gregory gets us a more permanent one. Gossip mill says Gregory has big fires to put out and can’t deal with us right now.”

She crossed her arms in front of her and gave me what I can only assume was supposed to be a significant look. I stared back at her.

“Well,” she prodded.

“Well what?” I tried to look innocent.

“What have you done to set heaven on its ear? I’m assuming you’re the one causing these big fires?” She was clearly not going to give up.

“I haven’t done anything. Life is pretty much going along as normal,” I lied. Did the dead bird really cause that much grief? Maybe there was a good reason for all the holy fury Gregory had delivered on my head.

“You’re banging an angel, whatever that entails, and I don’t want to know specifics,” she added hastily. “I figured you’d be privy to their doings now.”

“We don’t exactly have political discussions. I don’t get a state of the union address on the few occasions I see him. He usually spends most of our time together threatening my person.”

Candy frowned at me for a moment. “I wonder if someone up there found out he was getting intimate with you. That’s got to be against the rules. I can’t imagine they’d look kindly on romantic entanglements between your kind.”

Worry crossed her face. “I hope he’s not in trouble. I hope they don’t call him back home to reform him and stick someone else in his place. We’re actually building a decent relationship with the guy. Who knows what jerk we might end up with.”

Her worry wormed its way inside me. Could he really be in trouble? He’d bound a demon instead of killing it. And here I was, running amok, getting away with all sorts of crazy behavior that would have ended any other demon’s life five times over. I was sneaking into Aaru and pretty much thumbing my nose at them by leaving items. All this, and Gregory still refused to kill me to date. Plus he was angel-fucking me. And the cherry on top of it all—he’d killed Althean, another angel. Damn. They were probably going to grab him and slice his wings off, stuff him in prison for all this. This probably amounted to treason.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. A fight over who gets to precede whom at a state dinner or something stupid like that. Tell me more about Naromi. Here we are running in the daylight today. Is he okay with this sort of thing?” I wanted to switch the subject back to a less explosive topic. A topic I hoped wouldn’t end up with me blamed for the woes of the entire werewolf race.

“It’s too early to know how he stands on the issues or how much leeway we’ll be given, but I get the feeling he follows Gregory’s instruction to the letter.”

I got the feeling everyone followed Gregory’s instructions to the letter. Everyone except me, that is.

I pulled a dog collar out of my car. “I’ll need to change first so you can put this one me, otherwise I’ll just blow it to bits when I convert.”

“Put your clothes in here.” Candy pointed to what looked to be saddlebags. “We can change, put on clothes, and get a bite to eat and some coffee somewhere. Maybe Williamsport, or Hancock if we get that far.”

I had to hand it to her, the wolf could plan. I balled my clothes up and stuffed them in the bag as Candy cringed, no doubt contemplating the wrinkled mess I’d be at the coffee shop. Handing her the collar, I popped into the only domestic canine form I Owned. Candy sucked in her breath.

“Wow, you are adorable!”

I shook myself, floppy ears flying, and dashed over to hump her leg enthusiastically.

“Okay, not so adorable now.” She pulled me off by the scruff of my neck and snapped the collar on. I wiggled and licked her hand. It tasted like cocoa butter lotion with a bite of antibacterial gel.

“Do you Own anything bigger than a beagle? Will you be able to keep up?”

I gave her what I hoped was a scathing look, and bounced on all four legs. The collar jingled merrily.

“At least no one will think I’m a menace running with a beagle,” she commented, removing her clothing and placing it carefully and neatly in the pack. She put her blingy collar around her neck and strapped the pack loosely around her waist, dropping to all fours so it wouldn’t slide off as she changed.

It took a good fifteen minutes. Muscles and bones rolled around in a contorted mess under her skin. I watched for a moment, fascinated at the horror. I’d need to do this at home sometime to freak everyone out. Of course it would hurt like fuck to take that long to convert my form. After a few minutes, I left Candy to change in peace and wandered around the parking lot, my nose glued to the ground.

The world was a cornucopia of smells to a canine nose. Dozens of humans had been through here in the past few weeks. I could sort them all, tell in what order and when they’d arrived, how long they’d stayed, when they’d left. On the more recent ones, I could smell faint traces of where they’d been before arriving, the food they’d been around, the pets they had, their family members, whether their car had an oil leak, or if they’d pumped gas before arriving. I differentiated the owners as the most frequent smells, the ones who remained the longest before leaving. I identified their employees; noticed that one teenage girl had been indulging in intercourse prior to her shift. I sniffed around the lot and found the used condom. In the parking lot, too. Hmmm.

Candy came up beside me, glancing down at the condom then looking up at me and rolling her eyes. It was a funny thing to see on a wolf. I laughed and the sound came out as a wheezy bark. The pack fit Candy surprisingly well, with a fuzzy shearling cover on the strap to prevent chafing. I wondered if she had it custom made. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the strap with her teeth and tugged outward, tightening the apparatus. Then with a swing of her head, she took off toward the road.

We trotted down the street, and followed the railroad tracks across from the steel girder plant to the river and the towpath. This was a tiny industrial area outside the small town of Point of Rocks, and the morning air was filled with the sounds of forklifts and skid loaders. A few voices shouted instructions to each other, but everyone ignored two dogs jogging along the train tracks.

In no time at all, we were on the packed dirt of the towpath and tearing top speed along its length. The cold breeze brought a flood of woodland and animal scents to my nose as the miles passed. The tree lined trail widened out at Brunswick, revealing the large railroad station and a series of small camping cottages. The canal to our right had mostly become a grass and tree-filled ditch, but there was an occasional swampy area, a nod to its original purpose. I wanted to go down and sniff around, but I was having a hard time keeping up with Candy. As a wolf, her legs were longer, and she was definitely in better shape. Racing down the path, I could see Harpers Ferry ahead, across from us on the West Virginia side of the river. There was the railroad bridge I’d dove under with wings so recently, the tunnel in the mountain to our right, and the ruins that had been the Salty Dog Tavern.

Candy pulled further ahead past the shell of the tavern. I lost sight of her as she wove around the twisty turns of the towpath. My breath was ragged and my little legs pumped to carry me past another ruin, and the bridge overlooking the rocky falls of the Potomac. I could see her up ahead. I wondered if I should I soldier on and try to keep up, or bark out for her to wait. Just before the parking lot where I’d began my flying excursion, she skidded to a halt, practically digging a trench with her rump, and stared into the woods. A rabbit? I felt a rush of excitement and ran harder to catch up. Oh, I hoped it was a rabbit.

Candy looked intently into the woods, ears and nose twitching, cocking her head to one side in curiosity and shaking the dust off her rump. It wasn’t the look of a predator spotting a kill. What did she see? I slowed down to a more manageable pace, since a rabbit was clearly not in my immediate future, and tried to catch my breath as I trotted nearer. Not sparing me a glance, Candy walked with calm curiosity to the wooded area that once was the canal and vanished.

I sprinted again. There was no sign of her in the woods. I couldn’t see her, I couldn’t hear her. It’s not like she’d be hidden by vegetation either, this late in the fall when everything was brown and dead. I slid to a stop dramatically by the place I’d last seen her on the path and stuck my nose to the ground. Here, and here. Then over here. Then she moved down here to this tree. I stopped and looked up to see if I could spot what attracted her attention and yipped in surprise. There appeared to be a child sitting down by a tree. A small human child, about three years old, with a tear stained face and dirty clothing. The child looked at me pleadingly, convincingly, but I could smell nothing except the woodland scents and Candy’s signature werewolf odor. I recognized it right away. An elf trap.

Elves stole human babies, but they also stole adult humans. Since they never left our home realm, they used humans, not just as servants, but as informants and traders to come and go through the gates. Adult humans who fell into this clever trap would be sold off, trained, and perhaps eventually entrusted to return here and run errands. Mostly, they remained servants for the remainder of their lifespan. Slaves actually, although the elves did seem to treat them fairly. Better than they would have fared in our hands anyway.

I got a good running start and plunged full speed through the gate, plowing into a solid furry object on the other side. Candy snarled and snapped, missing me by a hair when she realized who had knocked her flat. I batted her on the nose with a paw and looked up to see two elves with drawn arrows trained on us. With a pop, I converted back into my Samantha Martin form. This alarmed Candy to no end, and she thrashed about to find me naked and sprawled on top of her. The elves lowered their bows.

“Calm down, I’m getting off you. Just give me a second here,” I scolded her.

The elves exchanged looks and waited for me to address them. Nice manners. Even though they were hunter scouts and I outranked them, this was clearly their territory and I had no permission to be here. By all rights they should have shot me and dragged me off to teach me a lesson about the folly of trespass.

“I’m so sorry to invade your territory like this,” I said scrambling inelegantly to my feet. “The werewolf is part of my household and stumbled into your trap before I could warn her. We’re leaving now. With your permission, of course.”

I grabbed Candy by the collar and hoped she’d cooperate. She looked around in bewilderment, and then up at me, her eyes full of questions.

One of the elves nodded at me. “You may pass, Azi-Baal,” he said, addressing me by one of my names and my status title.

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