Exodus (Imp Series Book 8) (3 page)

Banishment is what they were really talking about, not some fucking pilgrimage. All this about temporarily being ousted from my seat and a possible reinstatement was bullshit. It was banishment, and there would be nothing temporary about it. Once I was gone, I’d never be back.

“Fine.” I shrugged, trying not to reveal how panicked I felt at the possibility of losing everything I’d gained over the last few years. “Go ahead and send me to Hel. Have fun guiding the humans and all that shit. Who should I give the list of non-creditworthy ones to? Who is taking on that project? Oh, and Fallen Angels? I’ve only got the one right now, but someone needs to manage him. And those wild gates are going to be difficult to close without demons to help you locate them. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

That gave them pause. New Guy and Sleazy shot me a surprised look. What did they think they was going to happen? That they’d kick me to the curb and go listen to harp music and meditate? There was work to be done—most of it clean-up from a mess of their own creation. They’d soon miss me if they went forward with this insane idea of taking my Council seat away and throwing me back to Hel.

“Oh, and one more thing. Didn’t you promise the elves you’d leave the light on? How are they supposed to return to your loving arms when you’ve closed all the gates, hmmm?”

New Guy glared at me. “One. We said we’d leave one gateway open for them. Besides, the elves aren’t coming. If they haven’t returned by now, they’re not going to. Anyway, you heard Raphael—the gateways were never meant for the elves, they were meant for Samael. He’s not coming either. No Samael. No elves. No need for gateways.”

The elves didn’t need the angel gates to travel—they’d developed that skill a long time ago, but I wasn’t going to let this one go.

“Wrong, you stupid moron. The elves
are
coming. They’re packing up their shit and coming home as we speak. It’s going to really suck when they find all the gateways are closed. Poor, poor elves. Forsaken by the very beings who’d always promised to be there for them.”

Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell them. I shot a quick look over at Gregory and saw that he had his eyes closed, as if he’d suddenly developed a migraine. Still, it was fun to see the expression on the faces of everyone else when I mentioned the elven exodus.

“She’s lying,” New Guy choked out. “Lying. After two and a half million years the elves are not returning.”

Gregory rubbed his forehead, remaining silent.

“
If
they are returning,” Sleazy mused, “after so long, their return brings a host of other problems. There is much planning that needs to happen, but this is positive progress. If the elves can change their minds after so long, then perhaps there is a chance for the return of the former balance of Aaru. The elves can shepherd the humans toward positive evolution, and we can return to the blissful peace of our homeland.”

“You believe her?” New Guy snapped. “We need to close the gateways—all of them. There is no elven exodus. There never will be an elven exodus.”

“Let’s put aside the discussion of whether or not the elves may return and get back to the original topic.” Gabriel’s voice rose in volume. “The treaty and the Iblis seat on the Ruling Council.”

New Guy clamped his mouth into a tight line, then nodded. “Fine. Original topic. There appears to only be
one
Angel of Chaos. Demons are not angels, and even if they were there would be no difference. There were reasons for the war so long ago, and those reasons still exist. We have fundamental differences between us that can’t be bridged. Having an Iblis on the Council has illustrated how difficult it is for us to work together. We can’t go back in time. It’s best for us to remain apart. And it’s best for us to close the gateways and do away with that seat on the Council.”

“That leaves six of us,” Rafi commented. “Six is not an auspicious number. Seven is ideal. But without the Iblis, we won’t have seven.”

There was a poignant silence following his statement. I didn’t get it. I’d never understand the angels’ fascination with the relative divinity of numbers, but I got the hint that this was about more than just the number seven—that with me on the council there was chaos, but without me…. Something about the way Raphael said the number “six” made me wonder if there was something the angels feared more than chaos.

And they’d been six for nearly three million years, even though they claimed the placeholder for my spot meant seven. Maybe that was what was wrong with the angels. Maybe six signified rot, a death that simply wasn’t a transition?

“We can restructure the choirs,” Sleazy choked out the words. “We’ve done it before. If we restructure we can still have seven choirs, seven seats on the Council, but remain apart from the demons.”

I didn’t exactly have a problem with the “apart” side of that comment. Demons liked Hel. I couldn’t imagine they’d want to live a sensationless, incorporeal existence where a bunch of fluff heads were constantly berating them to meditate and ponder shit in an effort to raise their vibration pattern. But living apart didn’t mean we had to try to kill each other every time we met, and it didn’t mean meetings had to be forbidden. And it didn’t mean I shouldn’t have a seat on the Council—that demons should be unrepresented in the affairs of heaven. This here, this place with humans and hotels and bacon, let this be our middle ground, our demilitarized zone. Well, not the Marriott conference room specifically, but the whole planet.

Speaking of bacon, my tub was empty. Good thing the humans had seen fit to restock the buffet while we were arguing. I rose from my seat to go grab the other container.

“Present a restructure plan for the next meeting,” Gregory said. “We cannot be six, and the discussion of removing the Iblis from the Ruling Council is moot until this issue is addressed.”

I sat back down, bacon forgotten. Was this just a stalling tactic, or did Gregory really think my being ousted was inevitable. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. As much as I’d hated being on the Council, it was my job. It was part of a life I’d built.

And if my seat was in jeopardy, then I had agenda items that couldn’t wait.

“Which brings me to the topic of the elves,” I announced, jumping ahead. The angels frowned, shuffling through their papers, trying to locate the item that
wasn’t
on their agenda. “Yes, elves.”

I figured that I might as well go with it and call them what they were instead of my demons-masquerading-as-elves story. There was a good chance they’d shove a demon-invasion off on the already burdened Grigori. The angels needed to know the elves were coming, and that they weren’t the wonderful models of purity and peace that they thought. The Ruling Council could debate the validity of my seat later. I had pressing business to address right now, before thousands of elves crossed the gates and started taking over.

“The elves. They’re coming and their intentions are not as pure as you think they are. For thousands of years they’ve been luring humans with their clever traps to fall through gateways of their design into Hel. Once there, the humans are enslaved and serve either through menial labor or magical. I’ve stopped that practice and freed the slaves, but now the elves want to come here and do the same. They want to rule this realm, to enslave the humans, not ensure their positive evolution. We need to find a way to keep them out.”

The silence that followed my speech was amazing. I swear I could hear my hair growing.

“This is not on the agenda,” New Guy snapped, standing up and pushing his chair back from the table. “If we’re going off the agenda, then I’m leaving.”

He vanished. I stared in astonishment at his empty seat. How could he do that? What were the repercussions of walking out in the middle of a Ruling Council meeting? If only I’d known this was an option, then I would have been pulling my own disappearing act long ago.

“Me too.” Sleazy stood. “We’ve covered the major items. I’m not about to sit here and listen to nonsense about an elven invasion.”

In a flash of light he was gone too, leaving me with a half-eaten tray of bacon, Gregory, and his two brothers.

“About the elves,” I continued.

“Let’s assume that the elves really have changed their minds and are returning,” Gabriel interrupted. Did he not even care that two of the members had bailed? Wasn’t he going to go on some frothing-at-the-mouth recitation of the rules?

Evidently not. Gabe folded his arms across his chest and continued. “And let’s ignore the inflammatory accusation regarding their slavery practices. What makes you suspect their motives in returning are impure? They probably became tired of living beside a bunch of rapidly devolving demons and wanted to return. They originally had offered to assist in human evolution. It’s no surprise that they’d want to return to the project after their absence.”

“Why
would
they want to help the humans?” I countered. “I would have questioned their motives when they first offered. Who gives a shit about a bunch of primates using rocks as tools? I mean, seriously. I can’t see looking at a group of monkeys and deciding that I wanted to dedicate the next billion years of my life hauling them up from the primordial ooze. They obviously saw something in the humans back then that could be used to their advantage, otherwise, why bother?”

“Apes, not monkeys,” Raphael corrected. “And I’m afraid I have to disagree with you on this point, Iblis. The elves have come far in their own evolution. It only enhances their vibration patterns further to help another species achieve the same. Of course they would want to assist the humans. Just as we assisted them long ago. It’s a tide that rises both sets of boats.”

Wait, we backslide the moment we hit Hel, but the elves, living side by side with the demons in the same place continue to advance? Bullshit. Plus, I wasn’t completely on board with Raphael’s reasoning, but I hadn’t been around three million years ago to deliver a differing opinion. “Still, it’s been nearly three million years since they wanted to sign on with that project,” I continued to argue. “Why now?”

Gabriel shrugged. “We’ve done a lot of the initial work. And the elves could be of great help in fine-tuning the higher abilities of the humans.”

“You’ve fucked it up, if that’s what you mean by initial work,” I shot back. “Honestly Gabriel, you are always comparing the humans to demons, claiming that after the fiasco with the tenth choir that the angels should have wiped them all out and started fresh with another species. There’s no fine-tuning. Any further work is going to require a jack hammer.”

Gabriel glared at me. “After so long living with the demons, they are well suited to help us clean up the mess. Yes, we ‘fucked up,’ and regardless of what I’ve said previously, I’m committed to righting that, no matter how long it takes.”

“They’re not going to help. They’re going to take over,” I shouted, rising to my feet. “They’ll be living large with the humans waiting on them hand and foot. How is that ‘helping’? How is that going to assist them in evolving or anything else?”

“You said they taught them magic? Ran a sort of program for these humans you claim they enslaved?” Gabriel interjected. “However these humans arrived in Hel, it sounds like the elves were providing positive experiences for them, enhancing their abilities and tutoring them. I think the elves’ return may solve all of our problems.”

Before I had time to ponder his twisted logic, there was an explosion. I’m not talking the tiny kind of explosion that happens hourly in Hel. I’m talking a big fucking explosion. The table flew upward and outward, blown into chunks of laminated wood. Drywall dust filled the air. Metal beams and support brackets flew about. There seemed to be no direction to the blast—it came from all over. It was as if someone had planted thousands of molecular-sized bombs in the hotel.

It wasn’t until I felt Gregory seize hold of my spirit-self that I realized I too had exploded, as had all the angels and their corporeal forms. I had a moment of panic—not for me but for Rafi and Gabe. I had Gregory to cling to. I could only hope they had his ability to think fast and manifest as something durable enough to withstand the force of the explosion.

And the humans. There was no way they could have survived this. Hundreds of them, between the guests and the employees. Given the force of the blast, it probably had killed quite a few walking or driving by too. Stupid terrorists. I hadn’t thought a local conference center would be a high enough target for this sort of thing, but evidently so. Humans were quite a bit like demons, and no doubt this would be laid at the feet of one of the many hate-filled groups populated with those who had less than stellar credit scores. Which meant this whole thing would fall in my lap.

Fine. I’d punish and “reform” the terrorists, but I’d be damned if I was going to get stuck with 495 reports for all the humans killed in this explosion. No fucking way.

I
was still fuming over the amount of paperwork this bombing was going to cause when I felt another go off.

“
Stay down
,” Gregory hissed.

I wasn’t sure which way was down. I also didn’t realize he meant to stay incorporeal and attached to him, so I recreated my human form. That’s when I saw them. They weren’t like the usual angels, androgynous with blond curls and a distracted expression. These were…fierce. Their forms were shining like a prison spotlight, their eyes glowing white as they searched the debris that had been the conference room.

And they had swords. Theirs weren’t as impressive as Gregory’s sword, and probably not as capricious as mine. Still, I got the feeling these weapons weren’t the sort you picked up at a fantasy con. The angels turned toward me like something out of a B-grade horror movie and lifted their swords in unison.

Guess it wasn’t human terrorists after all. Huh.

“Get
down
!” I felt Gregory yank me right out of my physical form just as it exploded into a million chunks.

“
How about ‘get out’? As in we leave right fucking now?
” I replied. What was going on and why were we still here?