by Larissa Ione
Oh, sweet hell. She couldn’t even begin to understand what he’d gone through, but she now understood how much of a sacrifice he’d made for her.
“And,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “I went back to Gethel’s and got the vampire.” He lowered his voice to a mumble, even though there was no one around to hear him, and she swore the faintest blush spread over his cheeks. “And the kittens.”
Blaspheme stared, and for a moment, she almost believed that she must be part Soulshredder, because the big, dangerous Shadow Angel radiating death like a malevolent power plant had morphed into something else before her very eyes. Something more relatable. Something admirable. And yet, something no less dangerous.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I should have injected Lucifer. I should have been stronger. I screwed up —”
In an instant, she was in his arms, held tight against him, his mouth crushing hers in a punishing kiss. Her senses reeled as he thrust his tongue between her lips before speaking. “No. Killing isn’t in your nature. Never apologize for things that aren’t in your control.”
His words sapped the energy from her muscles, and she sagged against him, clinging to his leather-clad biceps with a white-knuckled grip. “We’ll destroy him. Somehow, we’ll find a way to rid the world of him for good.”
He tucked her head against his broad chest and stroked her hair with a tenderness that left her floored. “My priority is to get you out of danger.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered, relieved to finally confide in him. “My False Angel enchantment is failing —”
He pulled back so suddenly she swayed. “Then we fix it.” The determination in his expression would have terrified her if he hadn’t just sworn he wouldn’t hurt her. “Now.”
“I’m trying, but I’m not going to sacrifice anyone to do it.” She gestured to the papers and books. “I’ve found a way… I think. I just can’t figure out all of it.”
He released her carefully, as if he was fully aware that her legs felt like rubber. “You have a Pruosi book of necromancy. How did you get it? The Pruosi don’t just give those up.”
“I have a friend.”
“Some friend,” he murmured as he braced his fists on the table and leaned over to look at her notes. “Essence of death?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m having trouble with.” It occurred to her that she was discussing how to save her life with the male who killed her father, but if Revenant could help her, she had to try. “Essence of death or the tears of the hungry. I need one of those ingredients. And the blood of a legend or something.” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. The translations are kicking my ass, and I’m running out of time.”
Revenant’s gaze turned inward. “My mother used to speak of the essence of death. I have no idea what she was talking about, but she claimed that the essence of death was also an elixir of life for those who can’t die.”
Blaspheme blinked. “That makes no sense.”
“Try hearing that as a five-year-old boy,” he said dryly.
Her cell phone rang, and as Revenant went through the mess of paperwork on the table, she grabbed it, somehow not surprised that Eidolon was on the other end of the line. “What the fuck is going on in the cafeteria? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, doing her best to stay calm… to keep him calm. “Revenant is level. But please, E, keep everyone away.”
“I can’t do that, Blaspheme.”
“You have to.” She gripped the phone so hard she expected the screen to shatter. “He knows the truth about me, and he’s cool with it. But let’s not antagonize the situation. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“You have ten.” The line went dead.
Revenant didn’t ask about the call. He stared at the notes for several minutes, and then he flipped through the book, studying several pages before groaning.
“What?” She peered at the pages, but she saw only the same meaningless script she’d been poring over all day. “What is it?”
“The blood of a legend is the same as the essence of death. You need the blood of Death. Thanatos. Or tears of the hungry, or of Famine.”
Realization dawned. “Limos. So I need Thanatos’s blood or Limos’s tears?”
Revenant’s glossy ebony hair swept over his shoulders as he shook his head. “Forget Limos’s tears. You want Thanatos’s blood. Trust me, the last thing anyone wants to do is make Limos cry. Her brothers and mate are psychotically protective.” He lowered his voice to a husky murmur. “Not that I don’t get that.”
Warmth spiraled through her at the possessive tone and at the memories of how protective he’d been over the last few days, battling an angel who tried to kill her, threatening Shakvhan, caring for her after her meltdown. Looking at him, all dark and covered in leather and weapons, no one would guess that he could be as gentle as he was lethal.
“I’ll ask Reaver to get the blood,” she said. “Maybe if I talk to him, explain all of this —”
“Fuck, no,” Revenant broke in. “You can’t trust anyone, Blaspheme. He’s an angel, and they’re more single-minded when it comes to killing vyrm than fallen angels are.”
How well she knew that. “But he’s Reaver. I know him. He wouldn’t kill me.” She hoped.
“Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes,” he said, “you do. I’m going to get the blood for you.”
Blas exhaled on a sigh of relief and gratitude, but it was cut short as a potential problem popped into her head. “Wait… surely a Watcher taking blood from a Horseman to use in a spell is forbidden.”
“Let me worry about that.”
Her gut twisted. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s against the rules.”
At the stony expression that fell over his face, she felt the blood drain from hers. Obeying rules wasn’t just a code for him; it was his life, tied irrevocably to his traumatic youth and his mother’s death. Blaspheme would never again put him in a position that might tempt him to break a rule, let alone ask him to willingly break one.
Except she was already doing that by asking him to not kill her.
“No.” She grabbed his arm, desperate to make him understand that he couldn’t do this. “I won’t let you. I’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way.” Very gently, he peeled her hand away and stepped back. “I’ll be back soon.”
“No!” But by the time her scream faded in the air, he was gone.
Twenty-Seven
Blaspheme blasted through the cafeteria exit and skidded into the clinic hallway, where dozens of people had gathered, including Eidolon and his brothers, Shade, Wraith, and Lore. Every one of them was geared up and poised for a fight, danger and fury radiating from them in scorching waves that stung her skin.
“He’s gone,” she said, but Shade, Wraith, and Lore shoved past her anyway.
Eidolon took her arm and pulled her aside. “What happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” She caught a glimpse of her mother jogging toward them, because yeah, this was just what she needed right now. “Eidolon,” she said hastily. “Can you contact Reaver? Revenant is going to do something stupid. I need to stop it. Fast.”
“I can try.”
“Send him to Thanatos’s place. Please hurry.” Eidolon took off, and she met her mother halfway down the hall. “We need to talk.”
Deva frowned. “What happened in there? I came to get that injection you texted about, but all hell was breaking loose —”
“It’s not important.” She gestured for her mother to duck into an empty exam room. Once inside, she closed the door. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”
Deva blinked with wide-eyed innocence. “Of course.”
Blaspheme snagged a paper cup from the dispenser on the wall and stuck it under the faucet. “You always said you fell from Heaven because you were helping an angel to locate an obje
ct that Heaven didn’t want to be found, and that The Destroyer killed my father before I was born. But all of that was a lie, wasn’t it? Please, Mom, I need the truth. It’s important.”
Deva bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “If I tell you, you could be in danger —”
“I’m already in danger! I need to know the truth about your fall and Father’s death. The whole story.”
Deva sighed, and Blas’s heart sank. As much as she wanted to believe Revenant, she’d wanted to know her mother was being honest, too.
“It wasn’t all a lie,” Deva said. “Not the part about the object, anyway. Your father got involved with a rebel group in Heaven that wanted to replace Metatron with Raphael. Raphael worked out a deal with his friend, Stamtiel, to retrieve a mystical item that would allow Raphael to destroy Metatron. Stamtiel would take Raphael’s place as an archangel, and Raphael would fill Metatron’s shoes.”
Oh, dear… God. Rebellion in Heaven was bad enough. But plotting against not only an archangel, but the archangel was beyond the pale.
“I was afraid your father was going to be caught. He was so reckless and too open about his feelings toward Metatron, and people were starting to talk. So I agreed to help Stamtiel while your father kept the peace in Heaven.” Deva kicked aside a length of chain meant to hold down combative patients and sat down on the exam table. Tucking her hands between her knees, she closed in on herself, and for the first time, Blaspheme saw vulnerability in a female she’d always viewed as a rock-hard pillar of strength. “I was caught, relieved of my wings, and booted out of Heaven. But becoming a fallen angel didn’t change anything between me and your father. We stole secret moments together until I learned I was pregnant. At that point, I went into hiding until after you were born.”
“And then what?” Blaspheme offered her mother a cup of water, but she refused.
“He was still plotting with Raphael and Stamtiel, and he couldn’t afford to be connected to us.” Her mother took a deep, shuddering breath. “He hooked up with another female and disappeared from our lives. I only saw him once after that.”
Blaspheme could hardly believe this new version of events. Her entire life was more of a lie than she’d thought. “What happened when you saw him?”
“He attacked me. He didn’t want anything to do with me or you, and I didn’t know it, but Raphael put a price on my head. He can’t afford for anyone outside his close circle to know he was plotting against Metatron. Maybe Raphael still is plotting against him.”
Blaspheme sank down on a rolling stool before her legs gave out. “So do you think the attack on you was about Raphael tying up loose ends? Or was it because I’m a vyrm?”
Deva shrugged. “Could be either. Or both. It doesn’t matter. I should have told you all of this sooner, but I was trying to protect you. That’s why I told you your father died before you were born. I didn’t want you to waste your time trying to find him, only to face the same rejection I did.” She looked up, her gaze liquid with unshed tears. “I loved him. I fell from grace for him, and he abandoned us.”
Deva didn’t know the half of it, and she wasn’t going to. Blas was going to keep Revenant’s tale of her father’s willingness to hand over his ex-mate and daughter to herself.
“I’m so sorry, Mother,” she whispered.
Deva exploded to her feet. “Do not dare pity me. I wasn’t completely innocent. I deserved to fall, and I’ve accepted what happened afterward.” She jabbed her finger into Blaspheme’s breastbone. “So do not feel sorry for me. Why are you wasting time with this, anyway? You should be getting ready for the False Angel ceremony —”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not doing it?” Blaspheme hurled her cup into the garbage without having taken a single drink. “I’m working on something else. Something you won’t be happy about, but it’s my choice.”
Deva’s eyes darkened dangerously. “Daughter,” she growled. “What have you done?”
This wasn’t going to go well. “The Destroyer,” she said. “His name is Revenant. He’s a Shadow Angel. And he knows the truth about me.”
“He what?” Deva’s shout rattled the pictures and anatomical models hanging on the walls. “How? And why the fuck are you standing here like it’s no big deal when you should be hiding?”
“Because,” Blas said, “I’m the one who told him. And… I’m kind of sleeping with him.”
Her mother, the rock-solid pillar of strength, lost all the color in her face… and passed out.
Twenty-Eight
After swiping a vial from one of Underworld General’s supply cabinets, Revenant materialized outside of Thanatos’s keep, figuring that if he was going to be asking for a huge favor, he might as well get off to a good start and not pop in out of the blue. Steeling himself for the confrontation, he knocked on the door. A minute later, Thanatos was standing there, his expression shuttered, but the 3-D scorpion tattoo on his throat was writhing.
“What do you want?” Thanatos scowled. “And since when do you knock?”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
“No. Never mind.” Than stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “Well?”
This wasn’t going to be easy. Dealing with the Horsemen never was. “I need a favor.”
Thanatos crossed his arms over his chest. “Do tell.”
Yeah… not easy. But he had to protect Blaspheme. If she could disguise herself as another species of demon, Satan would never be able to find her, and Revenant would do anything to keep that from happening.
Even if this went against Watcher rules.
“I need some blood.”
One tawny eyebrow shot up. “Ever heard of a blood bank?”
“I need your blood.”
The other eyebrow joined the first. “I’m going to say no, but for shits and grins, tell me why.”
Revenant clenched his teeth to keep from lashing out. He was here to be nice, after all. “It’s for someone else. She’ll die without it.”
“Huh.” Thanatos turned to the door. “Too bad. Bye, Uncle Rev.”
Revenant grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him back around. He was prepared to beg, but he’d fight if he had to.
So against the rules.
“You said I don’t know what family is,” Revenant said, “and you were right. I’ve never really known until now. This female is family.”
Thanatos’s pale yellow eyes narrowed as he considered what Revenant said. But when his mouth flattened into a grim line, Revenant knew he’d lost him.
“Please, Thanatos.” Fuck, it hurt to beg. He hadn’t done it since his mother was alive, when he’d begged the demons not to hurt her. The day Satan had granted him authority, he’d slaughtered every demon who’d hurt her. Every demon but Lucifer, who had been far more powerful than Revenant.
“She’s all I have,” he added, because damn the Horseman, he wasn’t budging.
Except that he wouldn’t have her for long. Once she was disguised, he could never see her again. There was no way he’d risk leading the king of demons to her doorstep. The reality settled over him like a death shroud, cold and claustrophobic, and he struggled to keep from breaking down right here in front of the one Horseman of the Apocalypse who would enjoy it the most.
“Bring Gethel to me,” Thanatos said, his voice softer than it was before, “and we’ll talk.”
“I can’t do that.” He would have, if it meant Blaspheme would be safe, but now that Gethel had been tethered in place, Revenant couldn’t do a damned thing.
Thanatos shrugged. “Then I can’t give you my blood.”
Panic pierced the bubble of Revenant’s control. The Horseman wasn’t going to play nice, and Revenant needed this as much as he needed air.
“Dammit, Thanatos!” Revenant’s shout brought Cujo from out of nowhere. The beast slammed into Revenant from behind, knocking him into Thanatos, and suddenly, the courtyard became a blur of steel, teeth, and claws.
Pain lashed at him from every side as the hound ripped into him and Thanatos sliced and hacked with a scythe meant to separate limbs from even the most powerful beings. Rev healed almost instantly, but that didn’t mean that every bite, gouge, and slice didn’t hurt like fuck and piss him off.
He threw a bolt of lightning at the damned mutt, reining in the intensity at the last moment to keep from killing the beast. As bad as his relationship with Than and his family was now, if he slaughtered Logan’s pet and guardian, there would be no coming back from that. Ever.
Cujo yelped and tumbled several yards before landing in a heap near a stone wall. Cursing, Thanatos swung his scythe in an arc that would have severed the top of Revenant’s skull from his head if he hadn’t ducked at the last second. As Thanatos recovered from the swing, Revenant slammed his fist into the Horseman’s face. Than’s nose exploded in a pink mist of blood, and that was all Rev needed.
He whipped the pilfered vial from his pocket, tackled the Horseman, and pinned him to the ground with his hand around Than’s throat. While the big male cursed and bucked, Rev scooped blood into the vial and capped it with one hand before leaping away.
He’d just broken a major rule. The knowledge left him dizzy, panting as if he’d run a marathon, which was probably why he didn’t sense the danger.
He barely felt the warning tingle before he was lifted off his feet by an unseen force and hurled into the same wall the hellhound had hit. But Revenant’s body plowed through it, his bones shattering along with the stones. He fell heavily to the ground, the agony of his bones knitting back together knocking him off balance as Reaver and Harvester strode toward him, their expressions matching masks of rage.
