Free Women of the Otherworld 09.5 - Angelic by Kelley Armstrong Page A

students. A djinn wants you to break the contract; otherwise, where’s the fun in it? They’re tricky little bastards, so you have to be careful.”
     
    “This group recently entered into a contract with a young witch. When it came time for her to fulfill her end, they bound her and left her that way, without food and water, for two days, until the contract expired, when they were allowed to begin tormenting her for real.”
     
    “That’s not fair.”
     
    “We thought you might agree.”
     
    Damn. They knew I hated hearing about witches getting screwed by demons—well, metaphorically. If they want the literal sort, that’s their choice, one my own mother had made and I appreciated the extra powers that came with being half-demon.
     
    Still, a vacation was a vacation.
     
    “Trsiel can handle it. Pair him with Marius or Katsuo—they’re always up for a little extra adventure.”
     
    The middle-aged Fate returned. “I’m afraid they’re busy, as is Trsiel. Now, we believe the problem with the djinn is lack of leadership. With their demon master unavailable, they’re testing the boundaries.”
     
    “Who’s master of the—?” I stopped. My grasp of demon politics wasn’t what it should be, but this one I knew. “Dantalian? Um, he’s been unavailable for five hundred years, and the djinn just realized he was gone?”
     
    The old one now, fixing me with a glower. “Naturally, he has under-demons handling his affairs during his exile. We believe one has finally decided to stage a coup.”
     
    “Dantalian’s not going to like that… Ah, now I see. That’s why you want me—I know the old guy. So I just pop over to Glamis, tell Dantalian about the evil scheme afoot, and he’ll get his other flunkies to stomp it out. All right then. Consider it a favor, but since it’ll be quick, I’ll do it.” I lifted my hands for a teleport spell.
     
    “Angels do not negotiate with demons.”
     
    “No, but they do tattle on them. Just not usually to other demons.”
     
    “You are not going to Glamis, Eve. You are not consorting with demons. You have not seen Dantalian since that unfortunate business with the Nix five years ago. Correct?”
     
    I didn’t even bother to answer. They knew full well that I’d been cultivating the exiled demon as a source. But God forbid they should admit it, because then they’d need to admit they thought it was a good idea.
     
    In the beginning, I’d played along, happy to lie by omission as long as they didn’t interfere with my methods. I love an underhanded authority-subverting scheme as much as the next person. But when I was continually expected to provide results and lie about how I got them, the bullshit started to stink.
     
    “We all want this resolved quickly,” I said. “So you give me the job, and I’ll run off and fix the problem—”
     
    “You are not going to Glamis, Eve. That is a direct order.” The old Fate’s gaze bored into mine, telling me she meant it.
     
    “Fine. You don’t want Dantalian to fix this? Then you don’t need me to handle it, do you. Get one of the others.”
     
    “They aren’t available.”
     
    “Well, neither am I.”
     
    “You are now.”
     
    She waved her fingers and the throne room vanished.

Two
     
    The Fates teleported me to the ascended angel staff lounge. It wasn’t called that, naturally. We weren’t staff. This wasn’t a job. It was a calling. An honor. A noble mission.
     
    Bullshit.
     
    It was a job—the first I’d ever held. I’d spent my life avoiding exactly this, responsible only to myself and, later, my daughter. After leaving the Coven, I’d spent years traversing the country, learning the kind of magic that gave the Coven Elders vapors. Before long, I’d been a renowned teacher of the dark arts. Then I met Kristof, got pregnant, left Kristof, had Savannah, and continued on, building my reputation, teaching my craft, staying one step ahead of the interracial council and my growing