by Larissa Ione
Lore exhaled, a futile attempt to release some tension. “Why?”
“Because,” Wraith said, his voice thick with anger, “I’m going to get into her head. I want to know who wants Kynan dead. And then I’m going to make them wish they’d never been born.”
Four
“I need your help. Please, Idess.” Clutching his forearm, Rami doubled over at the Nile River edge. Idess kneeled beside him.
“What’s wrong?” But even as she spoke, she knew. Two of his four heraldi were glowing angrily. Two? That was beyond rare—so much so that she’d never heard of it happening. When a single Primori was in trouble, the pain was excruciating. She couldn’t imagine having two in danger at the same time. “What can I do?”
“Help… the Viking.”
“Of course.” She feathered her finger over a heraldi on Rami’s arm, and instantly, she was transported to some sort of battle.
The stench of death was as thick as the fog around her. The ground was soaked with blood, strewn with body parts and bowels. The victims… oh, sweet Lord, the victims… women. Children. This wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter. And in the center of it all, hacking up a dying man with an ax, was Rami’s Primori, a Viking whose evil aura wrapped around him like a shroud, nearly snuffing the blue glow that gave away his Primori status. Though humans could be as evil as any underworld creature, this one made her wing marks itch and sent chills slithering up her spine. Demon blood flowed through this Primori’s veins.
A woman in tattered rags was crawling toward the Viking, murder burning in her eyes and a dagger clutched tightly in her fist. She was the threat to the Primori. Should the woman kill him, whatever fate he was supposed to bring about in the world, be it good or evil, would not happen.
Should she kill him, Rami would have a black mark on his record, would be forced to make amends by remaining earthbound even longer.
Which meant he could stay with Idess. Maybe even long enough that they could Ascend together.
The thought flickered through Idess as excitement, followed immediately by shame. She wanted Rami to earn his wings and find eternal happiness in Heaven. But once he was gone, Idess would be left on Earth, lonely and miserable without the brother she’d relied on for centuries.
The woman crept through the blood and gore, revenge and pain etched in her face as she eased up behind the Viking and raised her knife…
Stop her. The compulsion to do her job lashed at Idess, but so did the knowledge that if she saved the Primori’s life, he’d slaughter the woman, probably after raping and torturing her. A tremor rattled Idess’s very soul. The half of her that was her mother’s daughter demanded mercy for this woman even though Idess’s duty required her to do what was right for the world, not an individual.
But she’d seen the horrors men inflicted on women. The evidence lay strewn all around her.
Idess closed her eyes.
And did nothing.
The woman sank the blade deep into the Viking’s back. His roar of fury and pain carried through the veil of fog, silencing the sounds of battle in the distance. The woman stabbed again, striking the Viking in his neck, and he crumpled to his knees. Idess didn’t wait around to see more. She flashed to her brother, who was standing outside an Asian temple near the body of a male whose head lay several feet away. Nearby, the female Primori sat propped against a tree, stunned, but alive.
Rami turned to Idess, panting, clutching his forearm. “Thank you, God,” he whispered. “You are uninjured. When I felt my Primori die I worried that you had been hurt—”
“I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I… failed.”
“You tried. That is all I can ask.” Rami slipped his arms around her and held her close. “I’m so proud of you, sister. You’ve come to my aid how many times now? You are a credit to all Memitim, and I know our Lord will reward you well.”
Guilt settled over her like a two-ton shroud, and her knees buckled under the weight of the enormous, loath-some mistake she’d made. She’d betrayed her brother. Her race. Her God…
Idess sat up with a scream. Her lungs burned with the force of her panting breaths, and her pulse hammered in her veins. She hated that dream. That nightmare. She couldn’t believe that even after twelve hundred years it still had the power to reduce her to a quivering mess.
Couldn’t believe that even now the searing, twisting guilt was gripping her in a vise of sorrow once again. Especially since she’d long ago convinced herself that Rami would forgive her once she explained what she’d done. He’d always been a forgiving soul, gentle and caring. More important, he’d operated on the same wavelength as she did. He’d understood her like no one else, and he’d been reluctant to leave her alone when he Ascended. So reluctant that he’d avoided stepping into the beacon of light for months, even at the risk of incurring the Memitim Council’s wrath.
That had been five hundred years ago, and still, the pangs of betrayal coursed through her. Clutching her stomach with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other, she willed herself out of the past. The present was better. Much, much better. Humans had coffee now. And gelato. She could use a gallon of both…
Mouth watering, she opened her eyes, wincing at the sandpaper texture of the inside of her eyelids, and at the reddish light that filled her vision. Where was she? Squinting, she made out the hospital-equipment-lined gray walls, which were splashed with what appeared to be protective spells written in blood. Skulls and creepy things in jars sat in perfect rows on high shelves. She looked down at herself, at the thin cotton hospital gown covering her bandaged body.
She was a patient at Underworld General. This had to be the infamous demon hospital. How had she gotten here?
Something blew by her in a blur. Startled, she rolled her head to the side. Two ghosts hovered near the far wall, as clear to her as solid beings.
He’s back. Back! Hurry! The male’s voice was tinny, high-pitched, and dripping with panic.
The female launched into an attack against the wall, a flurry of fists against the long crack that ran horizontally from one corner to the other. Idess watched covertly, because as soon as they realized she could see and hear them, they’d mob her, either with pleas to help them cross over or with messages to deliver to surviving loved ones.
Hurrrrrrry! The crack widened into a deep fissure beneath their fists. The terror emanating from the ghosts was a low-level buzz of electricity over Idess’s skin. What could frighten the dead like that? And even more mysterious was the fact that they were humans. How had they gotten here? Were they trapped because the light couldn’t penetrate a demon-built facility?
Shuddering at that thought, she tried to swing her legs off the bed… and was jerked short. She’d been chained down. Fools. Restraints couldn’t hold her. With a snarl, she drew on two of her innate Memitim powers; super strength and speed.
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 m
outh. “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 shoul
ders. 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.
