by Larissa Ione
Nothing happened. She couldn’t break the chains. She tried again. Still nothing. Well, damnation. Frowning, she tried to flash out of the hospital. Again, failure. She renewed her efforts with a sense of urgency, yanking on the chains that connected her wrists to what appeared to be huge bolts in the floor. She even tried morphing into her alternate form, but she couldn’t grow a single claw.
“Fighting is futile, female. Those are Bracken Cuffs, used by demon jailers and Justice Dealers to negate any powers you might have.”
A dark-haired Seminus demon in scrubs strode into the room, everything about him exuding confidence, from his rolling gait to the shrewd intelligence in his gaze. He bore a striking resemblance to the demon who had tried to kill Kynan, and she wondered if they were kin. She didn’t know much about the rare breed of incubus, but she did know that those related within a few generations tended to bear family traits, and brothers could often be mistaken for twins.
“And,” he continued, “you should know that in the demon legal system, you’re guilty until proven innocent. Burden of proof is on the one wearing the cuffs, not the victim.” An arch smile turned up one corner of his mouth. “It’s a great system. Very few repeat offenders.”
“Release me,” she snapped. “You have no right to detain me, no matter what your idiotic demon laws state.”
“This is my hospital. I have the right to do whatever I want.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m your doctor. Name’s Eidolon. I know your name is Idess, but who are you?”
“I’m not telling you anything.” The ghosts beating against the wall slipped through it and disappeared. Another popped inside from the opposite wall. “Why would you have human ghosts?”
“Excuse me?”
“Ghosts. You know, dead people. Your hospital is infested with humans. Why?”
He gaze was maddeningly calm, his tone condescending. “Some species, like shifters and vamps, have human souls.”
Of course. If they’d died here, they’d be trapped. How awful.
The door opened, and two more Seminus demons stalked in, one with dark hair and wearing a black paramedic uniform, and the other a big blond in jeans and a Jack Daniel’s T-shirt. Both had longish hair that fell to their shoulders, and all had glyphs running from the tips of their right fingers to their throats, where two linked, tattooed rings circled their necks.
“The only way you’re getting released is if we take you outside and separate your head from your body,” the blond said in a ho-hum voice, as if he was the hospital’s resident decapitation specialist who was prepping for yet another routine job.
And decapitation would definitely be one of the sure-fire ways to kill her. She opened her mouth to respond… and left it hanging open when Kynan entered. Following him was the Guardian who had nailed her with the crossbow bolt, and Kynan’s wife, Gem, whom Idess had seen only once, when she’d gone to acquaint herself with—basically, spy on—her new Primori. Gem was dressed much as she’d been then, in midnight Goth pants, buckled boots, a skull-patterned corset, and a dog collar. Only her hair was different; instead of black and pink, her braided pigtails were black and electric violet.
What were Kynan and Gem doing in a demon hospital? What was a Guardian doing here? They were supposed to kill demons, not hang out with them. Idess knuckled her eyes, wondering if she was asleep. But when she looked again, they were all still there, surrounding her like hyenas going in for the kill.
She tugged futilely at her chains. “What’s going on?”
Gem shouldered Eidolon aside to get in Idess’s face. She more than anyone looked as if she wanted to cause Idess some serious pain, and as her black-painted lips curled away from her teeth, it seemed maybe she wanted to take a few bites out of Idess, as well. “Why did you try to kill Kynan?”
Idess gaped. “Kill him? I was trying to save his life.”
“And that’s why you knocked me out?” Kynan’s voice was gravelly, and though Idess hadn’t learned much about Kynan’s background yet, she suspected the mass of scars on his throat had something to do with that.
“You attacked me. I only hit you to get you out of the way so I could protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
The paramedic crossed his arms over his chest and looked pointedly at her. “Except from fallen angels.”
“Fallen angel? That’s what you think I am?” She snorted. “Please. Those scum wouldn’t lift a finger to protect their own mothers. If they had them.”
“Then what are you, and why do you claim to watch over Kynan?” Gem gestured to the blond demon. “Wraith couldn’t get into your head to get any information, so we know you’re some kind of powerful evil.”
“I’m not evil,” she gritted out, but that was all she was saying, because there was no way she was letting demons know about Kynan’s Marked Sentinel status.
“Then you’d better start talking,” Kynan said. “You know I’m charmed. And you know only angels and fallen angels can harm me. So I want to know why and how you learned about me. And I hope for your sake you aren’t planning some sort of apocalypse, because we’re still recovering from the last one.”
Idess’s blood froze in her veins at the word “charmed,” because the only reason he’d feel comfortable admitting such a huge secret was if the demons already knew, and if he didn’t feel that Idess’s knowing such a thing was a risk.
Which meant that they planned to kill her. “I’m not looking to start an apocalypse, I assure you.”
“So you thought you’d pop into a demon-infested mansion and punch me? If not for Tayla and Lore, who knows what would have happened?”
Tayla must be the crossbow-happy Guardian next to Eidolon, but… “Lore?”
“The demon who was with me. The one who brought you in.”
The demon she’d tried to kill had saved her? “Fools,” she muttered. “You halfwits! I’m assigned to protect you. I’m a Memitim, a Primori guardian.”
Eidolon repeated the word, “Memitim,” under his breath.
Gem turned to the doctor, her braids slapping softly against the bare skin of her shoulders. “What’s a Memitim?”
The room fell silent as Eidolon ran his hands through his hair a few times. “According to some religious scholars, Memitim are angels who preside over dying humans who are no longer being watched over by guardian angels.”
He was right, in a way. But what he described was a Memitim’s duties after Ascension. Right now she was earthbound, and little more than a glorified bodyguard. She locked gazes with Kynan. “May I speak with you alone?”
“No.” Kynan gestured to the demons surrounding him. “They’re my friends and in-laws, and they know everything about me.”
Oh, so not good. Kynan was not only an Elder, the very top of the Guardian tier, but as a Marked Sentinel, he was in possession of something so important to the survival of the human race that he’d been charmed by angels with immortality in order to protect the item—an item that demons could use against humans to enslave them, destroy them, or worse.
“There are things I cannot discuss in front of demons.”
“These demons made me what I am. I’m even married to one. So get over it.”
The paramedic rapped his knuckles on her chains. “It’s not like you have a choice.”
She scowled at him. “What’s your name?”
“Shade.”
“Well, Shade, I might not have a choice, but neither do you. Kynan is in great danger, and if you don’t release me, he could die.”
Kynan slid her a look edged with doubt. “Who is after me? A fallen angel? As you saw, I’m prepared.”
“Not a fallen angel. The demon you call Lore.”
Eidolon arched a brow. “That’s impossible.”
“I’d have thought so, too, but I wouldn’t have been summoned to Kynan if he hadn’t been in true danger.”
The entire lot of them exchanged glances, and then Kynan unclipped
her chains from the stakes in the floor. “Only one way to find out.”
“Reaver?” Shade asked.
“Yup.”
They dragged her unceremoniously through the sliding ER doors into an underground parking lot, the Bracken Cuffs still circling her wrists, which meant there’d be no flashing out of there. Not that she would. She needed Kynan to understand the seriousness of his situation. But why the parking lot?
“There’s a spell shielding the hospital from entry and exit via any means other than the Harrowgate and the parking garage,” Eidolon said, obviously anticipating her question. “Since Reaver can’t use Harrowgates anymore, he has to materialize someplace unprotected.”
Kynan stood at the back of a black ambulance in the middle of the lot and shouted for Reaver.
“Who is Reaver?” she asked.
“An angel.”
An angel? Surely he meant a fallen angel…
A bright light flooded the lot, blinding in its intensity. Idess winced, shielded her eyes until it faded away. And there, standing in front of Kynan, was a beautiful male angel, his golden hair flowing in an impossibly perfect curtain around his broad shoulders. His clothes were modern, business casual… black slacks and a dark blue shirt that matched his eyes, and no way was this a fallen angel.
Idess gaped like an idiot. Since true, full angels tended to hang out in Heaven, she’d seen very few, and those had been only in passing and from a distance.
“Hey, man,” Kynan said with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Reaver shoved his hands in his pockets and gave them all a once-over, his gaze lingering for an extra second on Idess. “Wish I could say the same,” he said gruffly, though a slight tilt of his mouth gave away the fact that he wasn’t completely annoyed at having been summoned. “It’s not really cool for me to be hanging out with demons at a demon hospital.”
“Oh, sure,” Wraith drawled. “Now that you’re all angelfied, you’re too good for us, huh?”
Reaver appeared to consider that. Then he nodded. “Pretty much.”
Wraith snorted, revealing fangs. He was part vampire?
“Lemme see your wings,” he said, and when Reaver leveled a flat stare at him, Wraith rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. I saved the world. I should at least get to see your wings.”
He’d saved the world? Surely this insolent sex demon was not the one rumored to have prevented Armageddon. Over the last few weeks, the story had spread like hellfire through the earthbound Memitim ranks, but the information she’d gleaned from her brethren had been all speculation. And the demon supposedly fighting on the side of good against the fallen angel, Byzamoth, was said to be twenty feet tall, humble, and a servant of God.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” the demon cajoled, with a waggle of brows, and this definitely could not be the unholy champion who was already a legend. “Show the savior of the human race some feathers.”
“We’ll never hear the end of that, will we?” Reaver asked, and Eidolon shook his head.
My God, it’s true.
“We get to listen to it every day.”
The blond Sem grinned. “The Vamp Council hung a portrait of me on their hero wall. How’s that for ironic?”
“Especially since they showed it to you just before they tortured you for Serena’s turning,” Shade said.
Wraith snorted again. “Fuckers.”
“We won’t keep you,” Eidolon interrupted. He gestured to Idess, who was still processing what she’d just learned. “But we need to know if what this… person told us is true.”
“What did she tell you?”
Idess raised her chin and stepped forward. “I’m Memitim, and Kynan is my assigned Primori.”
Reaver narrowed his eyes at her before nodding. “She is Memitim.” He turned to Kynan, who had his arm around Gem’s waist. “You are Primori.”
“What’s a Primori?” Kynan asked.
Reaver shrugged as if it was no big deal. Probably because he was a full angel and not a low-ranking, bottom-of-the-barrel pre-Ascension Memitim like she was.
“Primori are humans and, occasionally, demons, who have a destiny to fulfill. They might change the course of history or cause, by their actions, changes in law, etcetera. Once their destiny is realized, they either die or go back to being regular people. But until then, they have guardians assigned to keep anything from interfering with an untimely death.”
“So what you’re saying is that she’s a good guy?” Kynan asked.
“Yes. An angel-wannabe, of sorts.” Reaver shot Kynan a miffed look. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Idess resisted the childish urge to say, “I told you so,” to all of them. Instead, she stepped forward. “He’s in danger. But not from a fallen angel.”
Reaver’s head swiveled around to Idess, his eyes flashing. “Then who? No one but an angel—”
“Lore,” Gem said abruptly. “Idess claims it’s Lore.”
Reaver turned back to Kynan. “The one who resurrected you?”
“I could have done without the reminder, but yeah.”
Reaver’s expression grew contemplative. “It’s possible. He gave you life with mystical powers that shouldn’t exist. It’s the order of the universe that he can take that life away.” Reaver’s eyes locked on Idess’s so intently the air whooshed from her lungs. “You know Kynan is a Sentinel, and that the amulet he wears is the most important object in the universe, but do you understand that he is just as important?” Of course she did—sort of—but when she opened her mouth to say so, the angel cut her off. “If you fail to keep him safe, Memitim, you will fail human-kind, and you will never Ascend.”
“Dude.” Wraith looked at her. “No pressure, right?”
Eidolon swore softly. “I’ll talk to Lore.”
“Kynan must be protected at all costs,” Reaver said. “Talking isn’t enough.” Reaver’s face turned to stone, but his eyes burned with celestial fire as he narrowed his gaze on the doctor. “You must kill him.”
Lore used the Harrowgate to get to his North Carolina home, which was really nothing but a one-bedroom shack in the middle of the woods. He had money—lots of it—but he didn’t see the point in buying a big, fancy house when this one did him just fine and had for a hundred years.
He walked past his ancient pickup and new Hummer, neither of which saw much drive time, but he liked the reminders of his humanity. He sensed his twin sister’s presence before he entered through the back door and saw her lounging on his couch in her usual leather pants and black, short-sleeved hoodie, tipping back shots of his homemade moonshine. Before Detharu had enslaved him, the illegal alcohol had provided his primary income for over half a century. Prohibition had been a great thing for Lore.
As he stepped into the living room, Sin slammed her glass down on the coffee table, sloshing liquid all over the oak top. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Got into a little scuffle.”
Coal-black eyes narrowed into fierce slits as she shot to her feet and fingered his scrub top. “You went to that… that hospital, didn’t you?” She spat out the word “hospital” as though she’d bitten into something bitter and vile.
He tugged off his jacket and shirt and dropped them on the floor, eager to shed the foreign-feeling garment. “Can’t get anything by you.”
“Did you see… them?”
“Yes.”
Her expression tightened. “You didn’t say anything about me, did you?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.” He headed toward the bath-room, but Sin didn’t take the hint and Velcroed herself to his heels. At the door, he spun around, and she nearly collided with him. “Do you mind?”
“They can’t know about me.”
“I don’t think it would be a big deal—”
“Really? A sister who shouldn’t exist? Who is an aberration? A freak?” She jammed her fists on her hips. The muscles in her biceps twitched, making the dermoire on her right arm writh
e, and making the scars intertwined with the marks ripple. “Come on. Even humans kill their own kind when someone ‘isn’t right.’ You think demons won’t? We’ve seen it happen.”
Yeah, they’d seen it happen. In fact, there were species of demons that dedicated themselves entirely to the destruction of human-demon hybrids and mixed-breed demons. Seminus demons were one of a handful of breeds that bred with other species, mainly using the females as incubators, but the offspring were always male, and always purebred no matter what the mother’s species.
Unless the mother was human.
But as funky as Lore’s breeding had gone with a Sem father and human mother, it couldn’t compare to what had happened with Sin. As far as he knew, there had never been a female Seminus, and yet, they’d shared a womb, a birthday, and arm markings.
“You’re not a freak. And I doubt you have anything to worry about with them.” He held up his hands when she opened her mouth to argue. “But don’t spaz. I promised.”
“Spaz?” She huffed. “I’m going for a walk. Have a nice shower.”
She stalked away, her blue-black hair slapping against the small of her back. With one last noise of disgust, she slammed out of the house. She was overreacting. A lot. But she had a tendency to fly off the handle first and think later, and she used her long walks as a way to work off the initial burn of whatever had set her off.
Lore just shook his head and stepped into the shower. His sister was the most closed-off person he’d ever met, but then, with her past, he could understand that. He just wished he’d been able to help her long before she came back into his life. Like, maybe before he’d abandoned her to decades of abuse. Yeah, that would have been good.
He washed, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, his past wouldn’t come clean. Too much had happened, too many people had died, and too many mistakes had been made. A shower wasn’t going to send it all down the drain.
Still, he savored the feel of hot water and soap suds sluicing down his body, washing away the blood and dirt the Slogthu nurse missed when he’d sponged Lore down. At least the wounds were healed. The lacerations had been closed internally with dissolving stitches, and though Eidolon had barely used his healing gift, it had been enough to seal the outer layer of skin and leave only the thinnest of shiny white scars. It had also knitted his ribs back together, and his shoulder felt good as new.