Reaver (26 page)

reached for her again, but she hissed and knocked his hand away with a flare of power that singed the

hair on his arm. “Were you upset about losing your lover?”

Shit. She was starting to go over the edge, and once that happened he’d be screwed. As calmly as he

could, he said, “You know I wasn’t. I hated her, remember?” He doubted she saw the irony in
him

asking
her
if she remembered.

“
You fucked her
.” Suddenly, pain clamped down on his skull and pressure compressed his chest.

“You hurt me.”

“Harvester,” he croaked. “Stop.”

She didn’t listen. Her eyes went ebony with irrational fury as she slammed her hands into his ribs

and sent a blast of electric agony into his body. Clenching his teeth, he groaned and dug deep for the

last drop of power he had.

With a whispered command, he released it into the air, enveloping them both in a bubble of

exhaustion. It was a last-ditch move that affected them both, and even as she began to return to

normal, he felt his eyelids droop.

Harvester slumped to the mattress. “What,” she said tiredly, “did you do?”

Oh, nothing. I just made us both vulnerable to anyone or anything that happens upon us.
He just had

to hope she was right and that nothing moved during the night in this realm.

Her eyes closed, and she let out a delicate snore. He tried to stay awake, but he was definitely

falling victim to his own weapon. His muscles turned to pudding and he fell onto the mattress next to

her. With another little snore, Harvester rolled over, bumping her forehead against his. Closing his

eyes, he listened to her breathe. He was willing to bet that very few males had ever listened to her

sleep. She wouldn’t want to be that vulnerable.

How lonely would that have been? He reached out and carefully tucked her closer, until she was

curled into his chest, her arm across his waist. This felt familiar, and when a memory of them lying,

fully clothed on a beach of white sand, popped into his head, he knew why.

Damn, but she’d been warm back then.

Floating on a raft of regret, he drifted off…

And woke to the sound of screams. Harvester jackknifed into a sit next to him. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” He leaped off the bed and threw open the door. Outside it was dawn, and a mob of

carrion wisps were screeching at something that seemed to be fighting its way from the center of the

group.

“A darkman,” Harvester breathed. “Impossible. How the hell did he find us? My wards should have

thrown him off track for days.”

“Worry about that later.” Reaver scooped up the backpack. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

She grabbed his wrist in a bruising hold. “Wait. Something’s not right.”

“Maybe your wards were defective. It doesn’t matter. We have to go.”

“My wards were fine. The darkman tracked us somehow.” She scowled. “Did anyone give you

anything for the journey?”

“The
lasher
implants. Why?”

“Because supernatural objects can be enchanted to become homing beacons for darkmen. Only an

angel could do that. Did the
lasher
implants come into contact with any angels that you know of?”

He shook his head. “Wraith would never have let them out of his sight once he had them. There’s no

way—” He broke off as the answer hit him like a punch to the gut. “That
bastard
.”

“What is it?”

“The
sheoulghuls
.” He dug the crystals out of his pocket. “Raphael gave me one.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. “Holy fucknuts,” she whispered. “I told you not to trust him.”

“And you were right.” Reaver’s voice was wooden to his own ears. “He knew I’d come after you,

and I fell right into his trap. I led the darkmen straight to you.”

Once again Revenant stood before Satan, and once again he wished he was anywhere but here.

Anywhere
.

Most demons and fallen angels, and even a few humans, would sell their own children at meat

markets for the privilege of serving the Dark Lord. It was, after all, an honor to be considered one of

Satan’s inner-circle minions. People dreamed of one day being at his side and in his service.

Those people were fucking stupid.

Only a stone-dumb idiot would want that. Satan’s lackeys rarely lived long. One screw-up and it

was the ax. The literal ax. The Dark Lord didn’t believe in second chances.

He was also a big fan of shoot-the-fucking-messenger.

“You said your news is important.” The demon king turned away from the warg he’d been torturing

for days. “It had better be. I’m about to break this werewolf assassin’s oath and find out who stole

Harvester.”

It was important, all right. Revenant just hoped Satan didn’t freak out and do the shoot-the-

messenger thing.

“Were you aware that Limos was pregnant?”

Satan’s growl indicated that he knew, and Revenant wondered what happened to the unlucky bastard

who’d delivered the baby news. Limos was supposed to have been Satan’s bride, and he held a grudge.

Revenant continued quickly, before his boss had time to get angry. “I believe the archangels are

attempting—or already have attempted—to switch Gethel’s and Limos’s babies in the womb.”

The legendary Big Bad pivoted around. “They did what? How do you know?”

“Because the Horsemen’s Heavenly Watcher mangled the Horsemen. It was… bizarre. When she

was finished, Limos’s baby was gone. Not dead. Gone.”

Satan went quiet. Too quiet, and Rev could practically hear the tension crackling in the air. Finally,

he wandered over to a tray loaded with implements of torture and selected a rusty butter knife.

“If they have Limos’s child,” he said in a terrifyingly calm voice, “they can perform the ritual

remotely within a brief window. When did this happen?”

“Recently.” Rev kept his eye on the knife, not wanting to find himself with a knife
in
the eye. “I

found her at Underworld General. I bound her womb so it won’t hold any child but her own.”

“Excellent. I’m starting to think you should be working for me instead of babysitting Horsemen.”

Oh, fuck no
. Revenant’s sense of self-preservation was way too strong to want such an
honor
.

Whirling in a blur, Satan launched the knife. The thud of the dull blade punching into the

werewolf’s gut echoed through the chamber, followed by the male’s low moan.

Satan, now empty-handed, clapped and a female fallen angel named Knell entered.

“My lord?”

“Increase the guard around Gethel and fetch the Orphmage Gormesh. Have him conjure a protection

enchantment for Lucifer. He’s in my guest quarters.” He glanced over at Revenant. “He brought the

ingredients and incantation I needed to break the warg’s assassin oath. Now the fun begins.”

Knell bowed and left the chamber. Satan strode over to the werewolf, who was hanging from a huge

wooden cross. He wrapped his hand around the warg’s throat.

“
Mephormus etalia exodushem
.”

The warg sucked in a sharp, asthmatic breath. Satan leaned in, lowered his voice. “Who are you

working for?”

“Reaver,” the warg moaned, and this time it was Revenant who inhaled sharply.

Rev braced himself for an explosion of Satan’s fury, but to Rev’s shock, the king of demons merely

tossed the werewolf to the ground and watched him until he died, a victim of the broken oath’s death

sentence.

“I knew Heaven was involved,” Satan said, his voice still eerily calm. “But Reaver… he’s an

interesting development.”

What the fuckity fuck? Why wasn’t the demon having a nuclear meltdown? And why would he

think that Reaver’s involvement was “interesting”?

“My lord,” Revenant said, as unobtrusively as he could. “What do you want me to do?”

Satan’s lips turned up in a bloodthirsty grin. “Tell Knell to belay my last order. I have another job

for the Orphmage.”

Revenant cocked an eyebrow. “Sir?”

Satan laughed, a maniacal sound that congealed Revenant’s blood. “My armies are on the move,

waiting to get into Heaven, but right now, all battles with angels will have to be fought in the human

realm until Lucifer’s birth shatters Heaven’s walls.”

Revenant wasn’t about to say “Duh,” but… duh.

“I’m tired of waiting. The Orphmage is going to change the game. He’s going to accelerate the

timetable.” Satan ran his tongue over sharp teeth. “Lucifer is going to come early.”

Twenty

Son of a bitch!

Reaver was going to destroy that archangel. Somehow, if he survived the darkmen, he was going to

make Raphael pay for this.

He tossed the
sheoulghuls
onto the cabin’s dirt floor, but Harvester snatched them up. “It’s too late

to get rid of them. The enchantment has already marked you as a target.” She shoved the crystals back

into his pocket. “I think I know a way to fix it, but we have to go.”

She said it as if he wasn’t aware of the urgent need to get the hell out of here.

A shrill, wet scream came from outside. The darkman was closer. They were out of time.

“We can slip past while the demons are distracting him.” He shot her a glance. “You ready?”

“No,” she said so nastily that he knew her nap hadn’t smoothed the way for reasonable dialog about

their past. “I was thinking I’d take up knitting while I wait for him to kill me.”

He ignored that and held out his hand to her. “Come on.”

With a blatant sneer at his offer, she brushed past him and slipped out into the throng of carrion

wisps.

Swearing quietly, he followed her as she crept around the skinny demons and used the trees and

brush as cover.

“We need to head north.” Harvester shoved a fat, leafless branch out of the way and darted into the

shadows. “Toward the mesa in the distance.” A crossbow bolt, no doubt made of
aurial
material,

impaled a tree trunk mere centimeters from his head. “Shit—Reaver, you’re glowing!”

Reaver wheeled around in time to see another bolt fire from the darkman’s crossbow. He dove at

Harvester, taking her down as the bolt screamed over their heads. Reaver rolled behind a fallen log

and blasted the asshole with a stream of hellfire that drained every last bit of Reaver’s power.

The flames caught the darkman in the torso, knocking him backward and sending his crossbow

flying.

“The glow’s gone,” Harvester breathed.

“Good.” He already had a bull’s-eye on his chest. There was no need to add neon lights and a

flashing arrow pointing at it.

Reaver shoved Harvester down the path they’d started on, but she stopped so suddenly he crashed

into her.

“Lucifer,” she gasped. “I can feel him.” She gasped again. “Oh, shit. I can feel my father, too. He’s

ahead of us.”

An icy fist closed around Reaver’s heart. “How close?”

Terror flashed in Harvester’s eyes as they shifted to the darkman, who was up and charging in their

direction. “I don’t know. Close. We have to hurry.”

“Won’t we be exposed when we hit the Scythe Plains?”

“We’re stopping before we get there. But we need to run or Satan’s army is going to cut us off.”

Harvester took off at a jog, leaving Reaver no choice but to follow. “The entrance to Persephone’s