by Larissa Ione
Blas jabbed the needle into Gethel’s vein with more force than was necessary. The fallen angel was the sickest, most twisted monster she’d ever met. And Blaspheme treated monsters every day.
As blood began to fill the vial, she glanced over at Revenant, who watched with cold detachment. Guess he was still pissed.
“Did you know about this?” she asked him.
Revenant propped his booted foot on the pillar behind him. “Do you remember when Limos was brought to the hospital a few weeks ago? When Eidolon believed her baby was dead?”
She couldn’t forget. It wasn’t every day a Horseman of the Apocalypse was brought into the ER. “That was the day I met you.”
The tiniest smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, it was.”
Obviously, he remembered asking her to give him a blow job in the hallway. If you answer my question, I’ll let you suck my cock.
Okay, so he hadn’t so much as asked as he’d offered up his dick like it was an Oscar statue or some shit that would be an honor to hold.
He’d let her suck his cock.
Let her.
She growled as she detached the filled vial. “You’re such an ass.”
He waggled his brows, and so much for him being pissed. The guy changed moods like the wind changed direction during a storm.
“So anyway,” he continued, as if this were an epic adventure story and he were the deep-voiced narrator, “that day, some archangels took Limos’s child and tried to remotely swap it with Gethel’s. They failed, but their efforts interfered with the sorcerer’s spell and stopped Lucifer from being born full grown. Whatever they did also fucked up Gethel. Well, that and the fact that Reaver nearly killed her, and archangels sliced her wings off. Now she’s deranged, she looks like something a hellhound dragged in, and Lucifer is twice the size he should be.”
Blas suspected that Gethel had always been deranged, but she kept that to herself as she withdrew the needle from Gethel’s arm. The tiny puncture sealed instantly. “So what, exactly, do you want me to do?”
“Satan wants to make sure nothing is wrong with Lucifer.”
“And I want to survive the birth.” Gethel bared her teeth at Blaspheme. “Fix it.”
“Weren’t you the one who didn’t mind him being born full grown?”
“That’s different. If he’s born an infant, he’ll need a mother.”
Blaspheme blinked in surprise. She’d have pegged Gethel as the type of mother that left her kid in the car while she partied and picked up men in a bar. “Why did the archangels’ efforts fail?”
Revenant chimed in. “Because I bound Limos’s womb so it couldn’t support any child but her own.”
Gethel ran her tongue over her lips in a raunchy display. “Revenant is such a good little minion of evil.”
Yes, apparently he was. He said he hated Gethel, said he could kill her, but he’d saved Lucifer’s life. No matter what, she had to remember that he was working for Satan, and he wasn’t a good guy.
As if you’ve been a model citizen. No, she hadn’t been. She’d been conceived in sin, and within moments of her birth, she’d been bathed in a double evil: the blood of a demon, a False Angel taken as an unwilling sacrifice. But she’d long ago chosen a life path that would honor her father… and the female her mother used to be. Blaspheme might have been born of evil, but she refused to let it define her.
“Okay,” she said, anxious to get the hell out of here, “I think I have enough. Gethel, your diet sucks. Stop eating infants and eat more leafy greens.”
Gethel’s head snapped up. “Lucifer needs blood.”
Blaspheme jammed her hands on her hips. “Those bags under your eyes, the dark color of your blood, those nasty blue veins running across your cheeks… those are all signs of vitamin A and fiber deficiency. Do you know what vitamin A deficiency does in fallen angel pregnancies? It causes extra huge babies with birth defects.” Such a huge lie. All of it. She had no idea if the female was nutritionally deficient or not, and she didn’t give a shit. She did, however, want her to stop eating children. “But suit yourself. You still have three months to go and your kid is the size of a toddler already, but whatever.”
She turned to Revenant and drew him aside. “You weren’t completely forthcoming about Gethel and the baby.” She inhaled a bracing breath, preparing herself for Revenant’s reaction to the topic she was about to bring up. “I was under the assumption that the child was emim, not vyrm.”
“Oh, now your precious ethics are being tested?”
“No. But knowingly associating with vyrm is a death sentence.”
“As it should be,” he said darkly, chilling her to the bone and answering any questions she’d had about how he regarded her kind. “But clearly, this case is unique. I’m not even sure Lucifer will be classified as vyrm, since Gethel was divested of her wings and given the boot from Heaven while she was pregnant. Lucifer could still be emim. Or maybe something new. Like vemim.” He grinned. “See what I did there? Like how lunch and dinner is linner. Vemim.”
“You can notify Webster’s of your new term later.” She gestured to Gethel, who was dragging her fingers through her stringy hair and coming away with big clumps. “I highly recommend that Gethel go to UG for an ultrasound and amniocentesis.” Blas needed those damned stem cells.
“Don’t you have portable machines?”
“Yes, but —”
“Good.” Revenant shoved off the pillar in a graceful surge. “Then you can bring one when you come back.”
“I’m not coming back.” She mashed her equipment into the duffel and stood, hoping he’d cave in to her demand. She would much rather he bring Gethel to her than have to come back to this horror show. “If you want an ultrasound, you’ll bring her to the clinic like a normal person. And after the procedure is done, I’m done. With her, with you, with…” She made an encompassing gesture with her arm. “This.”
Revenant’s low, pumping purr echoed around the cavernous area. “No, Blaspheme, you and I aren’t done. Not by a long shot.”
Six
Revenant watched Blaspheme angrily shoulder her duffel of supplies, and if glares were lasers, he’d have been reduced to ash by now. His little False Angel was PO’d.
Gods, she was hot when she was all riled up. He loved pushing those buttons, and she seemed to have a lot of them.
She strode toward him, her hips popping and her breasts bouncing with every swaying step. He was rock hard by the time she stopped in front of him.
“You can drop me off at the hospital,” she said. “I need to leave the blood sample at the lab.”
“I have a better idea.” He took her hand before she had a chance to reject him the way she had before. Man, that had stung. He wouldn’t let it happen again. “Let’s get a bite to eat. I know a great place right here in Sheoul. You can get a burger made from pretty much anything.”
She grimaced. “Um, no, thanks. I’m on a strict diet of nothing gross. Just take me to Underworld General Hospital, please.”
He sensed that she’d probably reached her limit with him today, which was a bit of a letdown, but Revenant had other pressing things to do anyway. Like finding out the truth behind why the fuck Heaven had left him to be raised by demons while they took his twin brother. He was dying to hear the explanation for that one.
Gripping Blaspheme’s soft, warm hand, he flashed them into Underworld General’s parking lot.
“Thank you,” she said as she jerked her hand out of his. “I should have the test results tomorrow. You can stop by my office at the clinic.”
He wondered if he’d planted a deep enough seed in her mind for it to take root with thoughts of either killing Lucifer or somehow getting Gethel to the good guys to destroy. Oh, he didn’t think Dr. “Do No Harm” Blaspheme would carry out any dirty deed herself, but she could help those who would.
If he was a decent guy, he’d feel bad for using her to do what he couldn’t, but he wasn’t decent. He’d
been raised to be a demon, and he was doing exactly what a demon would do; he was plotting to get rid of his rival before said rival was even born. And he was going to keep his own hands clean by getting others to do the wet work.
So, no, he wasn’t decent.
Blaspheme, on the other hand, seemed to be suffering terribly from that affliction. Sure, he was reasonably certain she’d lied to Gethel about her diet, but doing so might have saved a lot of young lives.
“Gethel isn’t really suffering from vitamin and fiber deficiency, is she?” he asked. “You just wanted her to stop feeding on infants.”
Blas shrugged. “Maybe. Are you angry?”
On the contrary, he was fascinated. False Angels were known to lure humans away from their children so other demons could snatch them. But for all Blaspheme knew, she could have been risking her life to save a few young creatures by lying to Satan’s baby mama. A couple of weeks ago, he’d have been disgusted. Now he was definitely fascinated.
“Well?” she prompted. “Are you pissed?”
He shrugged. “Will saying yes get me laid?”
“Not by me,” she said.
“What if I say no?”
“Same thing.”
“Disappointing.”
Blaspheme rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you the Horsemen’s evil Watcher? Don’t you have things to do?” She started toward the sliding glass emergency department doors, and yes, he had shit to do, but first…
In a lightning-fast surge, he spun her and put her spine to the wall. Startled blue eyes stared up at him. Her lips parted in surprise, and he took instant advantage, lowering his mouth to hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. She inhaled harshly, and for a moment he was sure she’d push him away, but as he slid one arm around her waist and crushed her to him, she kissed him back.
Her lips were soft, tasting of vanilla and mint, and even though she kissed him tentatively, barely brushing her lips over his, his cock stirred. He wondered if the ambulances behind him ever saw any action, because he’d love to scoop her up and get hot and heavy in the back of one.
Then she was shoving against him, the heels of her palms jamming hard into his rib cage. “We’re not doing this,” she said. “I need to get back to work.”
“What about after work?”
“Gods, you’re persistent,” she muttered. “And no. Not after work. I don’t want to see you again until you come by my office tomorrow for Gethel’s lab results.” She slipped out from under him. “Good-bye, Revenant.”
She practically ran inside the hospital, and this time he let her go. Tomorrow would be a new day. Right now he had a few things to do, and at the top of the list was paying a visit to Harvester. She might not have the answers he needed, but maybe she could help him get them.
He opened himself up to what he called his Watcher Awareness, allowing him to sense each of the Horsemen and Harvester, if she was in close proximity to one of them. Instantly, he felt her. She was inside a quantamun, a bubble-like plane of existence that allowed users to move, unseen, in the Earthly realm. Focusing on her signature, he flashed to her.
It took a moment to figure out where they were, because they weren’t at any of the Horsemen’s residences. Well, not exactly.
They were standing in the woods near a log cabin set a few dozen yards away from a larger cabin where one of the Horsemen, Reseph, lived with his mate, Jillian. Harvester was watching a tall, broad male sweep the porch, her attention so focused that she didn’t notice Revenant materialize next to her.
She was dressed in form-fitting black jeans, knee-high leather boots, and a leather corset that emphasized her narrow waist and ample breasts he’d admired for centuries. Too bad the former fallen angel had hated him with a passion. They could have rocked the underworld from his bedroom.
Now that she was an angel again, he wondered if she was still as wild in the sack as she was rumored to have been. Reaver would know, wouldn’t he? Reaver, who had been given everything Revenant hadn’t, from a privileged childhood with people who raised him with love, to four extraordinary children, and a mate who adored him.
Way to feel sorry for yourself. Yeah, he knew he was wasting brainpower dwelling on all of that shit, but he also had five thousand years of hell to sift through, and each new memory brought him more fucking reminders that Heaven had screwed him over.
Shoving his baggage into the back of his head, he sauntered toward the angel. “’Sup, Verrine?”
Hissing, Harvester spun around. “Don’t call me that.”
“You’d rather go by your fallen angel name than your given angel name?”
She snorted. “I could ask the same of you. Now that you know you’re an angel, why are you still going by Revenant?”
The tiniest sliver of pain pierced his chest, but he wasn’t about to let Harvester know she’d struck a nerve. He didn’t have an angel name. The name Revenant was all he knew.
“Because I’m a fallen angel in every way that counts,” he said.
“Really.” She cocked a dark eyebrow. “Then why not chop off your wings and make it official?”
Falling wasn’t that simple, but Harvester wasn’t being serious. She was baiting him into saying that he was perfectly happy with his life. With having spent thousands of years in hell instead of living a life of luxury in Heaven the way Reaver had. Because yeah, he’d gotten the awesome end of the stick in that deal.
“Why not take back your angelic name?” he pressed her. “And tell me, Harvester, how hard was it to pretend to be evil for thousands of years, all the while knowing you were doing Heaven’s bidding? Or were you pretending?”
A muscle ticked in her jaw, just barely, but enough to know he’d struck a nerve. “I struggled every day of my life to keep evil from taking over my soul.”
“Because it was easier to be evil, wasn’t it?” Until just weeks ago, he’d thought he was pure evil, a fallen angel with no hope of redemption. But all of that had changed, and now he found himself wrestling with who he really was. As much as he hated to admit it, he and Harvester were a lot alike.
“Evil is always easier,” Harvester murmured.
“True dat.” He squinted, zeroing in on the man on the porch. “Why are you spying on your werewolf slave?”
“He’s not mine anymore. He belongs to Jillian now.” A smile turned up one corner of her mouth. “She gave him back his birth name and granted him as much freedom as he can stand.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re spying on him.” She didn’t answer, but he realized she didn’t need to.
The fact that she was here spying on the werewolf told Rev that she’d truly cared about him. She might even have set him free if he wasn’t bound for life to be a slave. Nope, his slave bond, while transferable, wasn’t breakable. Tough break. Revenant knew exactly how it felt to be tethered to someone by blood.
“Why are you here?” she asked tiredly. “Some diabolical plot to annoy me to death?”
“I wanted to check up on the Horsemen,” he lied.
“They’re fine, and unless they summon you, I’d stay out of their way.”
“Aw, Uncle Revenant isn’t their favorite person anymore?”
She ignored his sarcasm. He’d never been their favorite person. “They’re a little protective of their father, and since you and Reaver aren’t exactly best buds…”
“They’re going to be dishing me extra large portions of asshole at the family reunion.” So not a surprise.
Harvester cast a fleeting glance at him. “Can I ask you something?”
Huh. Harvester never asked permission to do anything, so this should be good. “Shoot.”
This time when she looked over, she locked eyes with him. “In all the time I was rotting in my father’s dungeons, why didn’t you ever take the opportunity to torture me? He sent everyone else to do their best, so why not you?”
Actually, Satan had offered Harvester up on a platter for Rev’s sadistic enjoyment. But while Revenant had no problem w
ith killing, he couldn’t torture a female. Even before he got his memories back, he’d had a particular aversion to it, even though he’d had no idea why. Now he knew. He’d seen what it had done to his mother, and he would take no part in that.
“Your pain doesn’t interest me,” he said.
Eyes narrowed, she studied him long enough that he damned near started squirming. “Tell me, Revenant, when he tells you to kill me, will that interest you?” He shrugged, but something in his expression must have given him away, because she murmured, “He already has, hasn’t he?”
“It’s against the rules for a Watcher to kill another Watcher,” he said simply.
She snorted. “As if there aren’t work-arounds. I’ve seen the archangels bend rules for their own selfish reasons. I’m sure you can, too.”
Maybe, but he wouldn’t. Rules were rules. “Speaking of archangels, I don’t suppose you can tell me what’s up with the goody-goody bastards?”
She flipped her black hair over her shoulder. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Why won’t they respond to my summons?”
She gave him a flat look. “Do you really think they keep me in the loop? I haven’t seen any of them since I got my halo back.” She watched the werewolf prop the broom against the side of the cabin and head toward the barn and main house. “You should talk to Reaver.”
“So he can tell me again that we need to work together to stop the newest threat to Heaven and Mankind? Fuck that. I don’t give a shit about either.”
“Is that why you’ve been ignoring his summons? Because you don’t give a shit?”
“Pretty much.”
“You need to talk to him. Stop being childish.”
“Childish? We never had a chance to be childish.”
She jammed her fists on her hips. “Well, you’re making up for it now.”
Maybe she had a point. He and Reaver had rolled around in the dirt during a knock-down, drag-out brawl. And he’d been ignoring his brother like a kid with his fingers in his ears doing the “nah-nah-nah, I can’t hear you” thing.
Jesus. Next they’d be fighting over whose baseball team was better and who Mom liked best.