Page 44 of Far From Center
The demon shrieked. Gabe stood, and with one fluid movement, grabbed his chair and swung it down on the Gormand’s head. The whole time he kept an eye on Sirumel, just in case. The banished angel was not the sort that would relish inserting himself into a brawl or dismembering a human, in spite of his comment. As he expected, the former angel scooted his chair back from the table, safeguarding his drink from accidental spillage and making sure he didn’t get hit with any flying cutlery or furniture. After that brief second, Gabe didn’t have the luxury of watching Sirumel any longer, because the Gormand had let go of Nyalla and with a roar, grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him across the top of the table.
Human patrons were screaming and running. Nyalla was grappling with the skinny demon who’d crawled under and grabbed her by both legs. And Gabe’s head was spinning from being bashed face-first into a solid oak table top.
A few years ago he wouldn’t have known what to do, but he’d been wrestling and engaging in similar brawls with the Iblis from the moment she’d appeared at a Ruling Council meeting, and Gabe had learned the art of dirty fighting. There were no Danishes or trays of bacon nearby, but his arms were free, and he’d recently learned that the body part right in front of him was very sensitive. Turning his head to the side, he shot out a hand and grabbed the demon in the crotch, twisting hard.
The demon’s roar dramatically increased in pitch, ending in a note so high that Gabe was certain only dogs could hear it. He took advantage of the situation and scrambled across the table, grabbing a water glass and bouncing it off the demon’s head on the way. Now that he was no longer crushing the Gormand’s privates with his hand, the demon quickly recovered, and punched Gabe hard enough to send him back across the table and onto the floor, landing beside Nyalla, who was attempting to drown the skinny demon in the ornamental pond.
“Gabe!” Nyalla gasped.
He turned and saw the Gormand rounding the table, his hands forming a ball of electricity that surely would have killed him. Just before he launched the bolt of lightning, a metal pole punched through the demon’s stomach. The electricity leapt from his hands to the rod, shooting backward to where the other end touched the earth. The demon snarled, swinging around and knocking a neighboring table aside with the long pole.
“Fuck you, pig-face. I will burn your ass right where you stand if you don’t get out of here now.” Terrelle shouted. She had two black rods in her hands that shot flames out the end. Gabe had no idea what they were, but they certainly looked impressive. Evidently the Gormand thought so too. He backed up, pulling the metal rod through his abdomen and throwing it to the ground. Then he ran, Skinny demon not far behind him. Gabe stood, pushing back the urge to go after the pair of them. He wasn’t sure he could best the skinny demon, let alone the Gormand. And right now every cell in his body was screaming for him to make sure Nyalla was unhurt.
He reached for her, anger blazing through him as he saw the bruises on her wrists and felt the bump on her head. Her eyes widened and she reached up to touch his face, her fingers coming away coated in red.
“Your nose is bleeding,” she told him. “Here. Pinch right here and lean forward.”
He ignored her, anger giving way to panic. “Are you injured beyond the contusion and the bruises? I can’t heal you if you are. I can’t heal. Are there humans who have some skill? We should take you to the hospital facility I read about in the hotel room.”
“Stop. I’m fine. And I’m trying to get your nose to stop bleeding. Oh no. It looks like you’re going to have a black eye, too. Wow, he got you good.”
Terrelle knelt down beside them, a smug expression on her face as she looked from Gabe to Nyalla.
“Why don’t you see if the kitchen has something for his eye,” she told the woman. “I’ll shove some napkins up his nose while you go track down ice.”
Nyalla jumped up and ran off, while Terrelle proceeded to do as she’d said and cram several napkins up Gabe’s nose. He was sure he looked absolutely ridiculous, but if it stopped the nosebleed that Nyalla was so concerned about, he’d cope with the embarrassment.
“There. Good as new. Well, almost good as new. And thankfully that red Hawaiian print shirt doesn’t even show the blood stains.” Terrelle sat back on her haunches, that smug expression still on her face. There was a look in the demon’s eyes that let him know she was on to him. She knew — knew he wasn’t human. Or rather that he’d once not been human.
“When did you find out?” he asked the demon.
“That you were an angel?” She snorted. “Immediately. You don’t remember but I’ve met you a few times, and you always use a similar physical form when you manifest. Plus, there’s no mistaking you. As angels go, you’re pretty distinctive in personality and behavior.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” He adjusted the napkin in his left nostril.
“It is. There’s no weaselly bullshit with you, no ulterior motives. There’s no special persona you show the world that covers the seething steaming pile of shit that’s under the surface. You’re not a hypocrite. You’re a fucking dick on the inside, and you’re a fucking dick on the outside. I admire that trait in an angel.”
“Thanks?” He pulled out one of the napkins and eyed it, dabbing the edge of his nose. It had worked. There was no more blood.
“Besides,” Terrelle glanced behind her toward the kitchen. “You care about her. In spite of what happened, in spite of your obvious disdain for humans, you care about her. I can trust that you’ll do anything to protect her, even if you get a bloody nose doing it. Even if you get killed doing it.”
“Is that why you left Nyalla to deal with the Gormand alone last night?”
“I was right there, watching and ready to intervene, but I wanted to see you make a complete ass out of yourself first.”
“How did I do?”
She laughed. “Not bad for an archangel. I’m impressed. Want me to take care of those injuries for you? It will hurt like fuck and you’ll probably eventually die from my repairs. I don’t heal, but I’m assuming that you’ll be back to your old angel-self and able to fix anything I screw up before it kills you.”
He went to shrug and winced at the pain in his arm. “For all I know, I could be stuck like this for a normal human lifetime. And then I suppose I’ll die. I guess I’d rather deal with this short-term pain than cut my life even shorter than it will already be.”
She tilted her head, flashing a smile. “Silly angel. It won’t last that long. I ran the calculations, and with the power levels you were sporting the last time I met you, you should be back to your usual arrogant self in two weeks. Eighteen days max.”
“Truly?” He couldn’t even notice the pain in his hands and face anymore, not with the relief coursing through him. “Are you telling the truth, because I can’t really detect falsehoods right now.”
She held up her right hand. “Honest. If you’re going to trust a demon, trust a Noodle. Information and facts are our lives. It physically hurts me to tell a lie. I’m compelled to bore you for hours at a time with all sorts of minute details on things you never wanted to know about.”
“How do you know how long this spell will last? Nyalla said the wand had twenty charges on it.”
