Rogue Rider lod-4

by Larissa Ione

  “So you could have slept with her, then.”

  “No. Impossible.” Reaver’s throat squeezed shut, the protest sounding hollow. He couldn’t imagine getting intimate with someone as vile as Lilith, but he also knew he had a rebellious streak, and if someone had said not to bed the succubus, he might have out of spite.

  “I can prove it.” Reseph’s tone had softened now that he realized Reaver hadn’t been keeping this massive secret. “I have a birthmark in the shape of a single wing on the inside of my left thigh. Lilith said our father, the angel in that drawing, has a matching one.”

  Reaver froze. Locked up so hard he couldn’t even hyperventilate.

  “Well?” Anticipation radiated from Ares, who rarely got worked up about anything. “Do you have this mark, Reaver?”

  A mixture of terror and joy tripped through him as he looked each Horseman in the eye. And then he nodded. Now he knew why he’d felt such a close connection with these four. Why he’d risked spending an eternity trapped in Sheoul-gra when he’d cast Reseph out of there. And why, right now, his eyes stung.

  “Yes. It…” He cleared his throat of its hoarseness. “It appears that I’m… your father.”

  Limos threw herself at him, wrapping herself around him and squeezing so hard he could barely breathe. “I knew it,” she whispered. “I knew there was a reason I loved you from the beginning.”

  “Damn, Reaver,” Eidolon said. “You’re full of surprises.”

  Shade, one of Eidolon’s brothers, snorted. “The only way you can top this one is to tell us you’re a Shadow Angel.”

  It was Reaver’s turn to snort. Only one Shadow Angel, a being who had access to both Sheoul and Heaven and could utilize the powers of both, had ever existed at any given time, and there hadn’t been one alive in centuries.

  Wraith, blond brother to Shade and Eidolon, clapped Reaver on the back. “Be glad you missed the potty-training stage.” He gestured to the Horsemen. “I’ll bet these assholes could blow out diapers made of Kevlar.”

  Thanatos beaned Wraith with a corn chip. Thanatos… Reaver’s son.

  Reaver was a father.

  But how? And who in Heaven knew? Had he been given Watcher duty by someone who was aware that the Horsemen were his offspring?

  Reaver suddenly had a lot of questions… and an uncomfortable feeling that he wasn’t going to like the answers.

  Thirty-two

  Reseph was so out of there. On the beach Reseph had practically called home, he felt like a stranger.

  Hell, the people from Underworld General were more a part of his siblings’ families than he was.

  No one to blame but yourself, asshole.

  Well, Pestilence could shoulder a lot of the blame, too.

  Cursing, he strode up the beach to find a safe place to throw a Harrowgate.

  “Reseph, wait!” Limos caught up to him and took him by the elbow. “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged, putting on his best old-Reseph face. “Yep. I’m just going to go get myself a place to live and then maybe hit the Four Horsemen.” Lie. Huge fucking lie.

  Yes, he needed a place to live, but he was never again stepping foot in the underworld pub where he’d spent countless hours doing countless females. He only wanted Jillian, so more than likely he was going to go hang out in her barn like some sort of creepy invisible Peeping Tom.

  “Don’t give me that crap,” Limos said softly. “I know you too well. You miss Jillian, don’t you?”

  Sure his voice would crack like a pubescent teenage boy’s, Reseph merely nodded.

  “Then get her back.” Limos looked down at the sand for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “If you’re worried about Pestilence, maybe you should consider the way you came out of your torment when she was around. Maybe she can help keep you level and in control.”

  He shook his head. “Even if that was true, she’ll never forgive me for what happened to her.”

  Limos stomped her foot. “Bullshit. That human gave you her freaking mind in order to help you, and she did it after learning that Pestilence hurt her. She loves you.”

  He swore he heard Pestilence laugh, and the memory of her attack started to spread through his brain like spilled mead. Where had Reseph been? Why hadn’t he fought to stop what had happened to Jillian? Reseph was just as responsible as Pestilence was.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but Pestilence hurt her,” Limos said. “Not you. And I realize I sound like a hypocrite, but you have to remember that Pestilence tormented us almost daily for a year.” She glanced back at the group, where pretty much everyone was watching them. “He killed Torrent, who Ares loved like a son. He hung my staff from trees. He stole Arik’s soul. Worst of all, he tried to kill Logan. These aren’t things we’re going to get past easily, even if we know it wasn’t you who did them.”

  He closed his eyes, fighting to keep the memory of preparing to slaughter the newborn at bay, but what he couldn’t stop was the nausea. In a clumsy rush, he stumbled to the surf and threw up. Tremors racked his body so violently that he could no longer hold himself up, and he crashed to his knees in the waves.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, head bowed, water lapping at his legs, when arms came around him and lifted him to his feet. Reaver. Reaver was holding him upright.

  “I’m sorry, Reaver,” he began, and then paused, because was he supposed to call him Father now? “What I did to you in Harvester’s lair—”

  “Stop.” Reaver gripped Reseph’s shoulders firmly and gave him a little shake. “None of us need apologies. We need you to put yourself back together.”

  Easier said than done. Tormenting your family and killing millions of people wasn’t an easy thing to put behind you. Although he had to admit that Harvester’s “Sheoul voodoo,” as Limos called it, had gone a long way toward making that happen. But why had she done it? She hated him, and with good reason.

  “Reaver… do you know why Harvester was fired as our Watcher?”

  “No, but maybe you can shed some light on that. Did she help Pestilence in any way?”

  He nodded. “It was her idea to trick The Aegis into taking Thanatos’s virginity so his Seal would break. She wrote the document that made them think a baby was the key to averting the Apocalypse.”

  Turned out, the baby had been that key. He’d also been the key to breaking Than’s Seal and starting the Apocalypse. Logan had come into the world with a lot of weight on his tiny shoulders.

  Reaver frowned. “Were you aware that Regan can sense emotion when she touches ink on skin or parchment?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because she confirmed that whoever penned the note believed every word they wrote. So if what you’re saying is true, Harvester knew all along that Than’s virginity wasn’t his agimortus.”

  Reseph sucked in a harsh breath. “So she knew the baby was.” He rubbed his temples, trying to get a grip on this new information. If she’d known, why hadn’t she told Pestilence? He hadn’t figured it out until later. Something wasn’t adding up.

  “Whether she’d known or not, it’s clear she was helping Pestilence, which is a broken Watcher rule,” Reaver said.

  “Maybe that’s why she got taken off Watcher duty and replaced by the douchebag.”

  Reaver looked troubled. “Maybe. But it seems like overkill to have her dragged to hell for the punishment.”

  “She’s being tortured,” he said. “Lilith said Lucifer wants something from her. Something with the power to draw out Pestilence. Do you know what it could be?”

  Reaver’s frown deepened. “No idea.”

  The party music started up again, Reseph’s cue to get out of there. A year ago he’d have joined in, started up a game of volleyball or some sort of drinking challenge. Now he wanted to join in, but he wanted Jillian with him. He’d take her out in the waves to surf, and maybe he’d mess with her a little underwater, where no one but she would know what his hands were doing. Later, when everyone was gone,
he’d make love to her on the beach with all the reverence she deserved.

  A pang of loneliness and loss ripped through him. “Thank you,” he said to Reaver. “Thanks for giving me Jillian for a little while.” He regarded his father, wishing he’d known the truth sooner. Like—when he’d been a child would have been good. “It was you, wasn’t it? The night she was attacked, she said she heard wings. You were there.”

  “Yes.” He touched Reseph’s hair with surprising fondness. “It was hard to keep track of Pestilence, since he was so often in Sheoul. But that night—”

  “That night he was hunting Aegi,” Reseph said, remembering the dozen Guardians who’d lost their lives over the course of a couple of hours.

  Reaver nodded. “I was finally able to catch up with him. I’m the reason Pestilence was interrupted that night. I might have whispered in a cop’s ear that he should do a routine patrol of that lot.”

  Pestilence and the demons had taken off since their victims had been pretty much used up anyway. The sick bastard.

  “Let go of the guilt over what happened that night,” Reaver said. “It wasn’t you. You and Jillian both needed each other to heal what Pestilence did.”

  “I needed her. She didn’t need me.”

  “You’re wrong,” Reaver murmured.

  Reseph didn’t think so, but he didn’t feel like arguing. He had to find a place to live, kill a few more of Pestilence’s asshole buddies, and hang out in Jillian’s barn like a loser.

  Yep, his calendar was full.

  Full of suck.

  * * *

  Jillian didn’t answer the phone for two days. She’d never ignored Stacey’s calls before, but how was she supposed to explain what had happened with Reseph? The situation wasn’t exactly your typical breakup.

  So… my boyfriend killed a lot of people.

  No, that didn’t have the proper ring to it.

  Turns out that my lover murdered millions of people.

  Better, but still didn’t quite achieve that jaw-dropping horror factor.

  Before I found him frozen in a snowdrift, my half-demon lover tortured and slaughtered men, women, and children by the millions.

  Perfect. And as Stacey’s old Bronco pulled up to the house, Jillian braced herself for the I-told-you-so. But first she had to get through the why-the-hell-haven’t-you-answered-the-phone lecture.

  Sure enough, the second Jillian opened the door, Stacey lit into her.

  “Why the hell haven’t you answered the phone? Do you know how worried I’ve been? I was sure you were dead in the woods somewhere!” Stacey took a break to breathe, looking Jillian up and down. “And when is the last time you combed your hair or showered or got dressed?”

  “Good to see you too, Stace.” Jillian stood back to let her friend inside.

  Stacey slipped out of her parka as Jillian closed the door. “So. What’s going on?” Stacey kicked out of her boots and looked around. “Where’s Reseph?”

  A lump of emotion clogged Jillian’s throat, and she had to swallow a few times before she could talk. “He’s not here.”

  “Good.” Stacey started toward the kitchen. “I wanted to talk to you alone.” She helped herself to a Sprite from the fridge.

  “Why’s that?”

  Turning to Jillian, Stacey popped the tab on the soda. “I needed to apologize. I was a little hard on you and Reseph. You’ve had a rough time, and if you need him in your life, I have no right to interfere.”

  “You were just looking out for me,” Jillian said miserably. “If you’d taken in a complete stranger with no background history, I’d have done the same thing.” Turned out Stacey was right to be worried, which made this even worse.

  Stacey ran her finger along the rim of the can, averting her gaze. “Maybe. But I think I was a little jealous, too. The way he was watching out for you… it kind of made me feel useless, you know?”

  “Oh, Stace.” Jillian’s voice was toast, her words coming out as a croak. “You could never be useless.” She hurried over to her best friend and gave her a big hug, not even realizing until that moment how badly she herself needed one.

  Stacey knew, though, and the moment Jillian pulled back, Stacey stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

  “You should probably sit down.”

  “Dammit, Jillian, you’re scaring me.”

  Scaring you? Girlfriend, you ain’t seen scared yet. Jillian took a seat at the table and gestured for Stacey to sit. “Reseph got his memory back.”

  Stacey inhaled a harsh breath as she pulled out a chair. “Oh, wow. Is that why he’s not here? Where is he? What did he remember?”

  “It’s bad,” Jillian said. “Really unbelievable.”

  Stacey’s fingers tightened on the can. “Do not tell me I was right. That he’s a drug dealer or serial killer or some shit.”

  “Worse,” she rasped.

  “How can it be worse than a serial killer?” Stacey shook her head. “Unless he’s a genocidal dictator or something.”

  Jillian’s stomach turned over, and she grabbed the soda from her friend, drinking half of it before she could talk again. “You’re getting closer.”

  Stacey stared. “This isn’t some kind of sick joke, is it? People with cameras aren’t going to pop out of your closet, right?”

  “Just think about the last year. About the demons. Entire countries overrun by them.”

  “And?”

  “And someone was behind it. All of it.” She’d learned all the whys of it over the last couple of days, thanks to the book one of the Horsemen had left on her bedside table. It was fascinating reading, completely unbelievable if she hadn’t experienced the Horsemen and their world herself.

  For a long moment, Stacey just sat there. “I know you aren’t saying Reseph is that someone,” she said slowly.

  A chill wrapped around Jillian at the cold truth coming from her friend’s lips. It just sounded so real, so much worse when Stacey said it.

  “That’s what I’m saying. His brothers and sister showed up, and he remembered everything. This is going to sound crazy, but… he’s one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

  Dead silence fell in the house. Jillian was pretty sure Stacey stopped breathing. And then she stood so fast her chair tipped over.

  “Knock it off,” Stacey snapped. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny. And if it’s not a joke, I’m going to kill that bastard for messing with your head like this. What the fuck? Really? He conned you into believing he’s some biblical legend?” She sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed Jillian’s hand. “Oh my God, did he get you hooked on drugs?”

  Jillian pulled away. “No, and I know this sounds insane, but I saw everything with my own eyes. He remembered, and he went crazy. Turns out his Seal had broken, and he turned evil. I guess one of his brothers killed him, and then an angel rescued him from hell, erased his memory, and sent him here so I could nurse him back to health.”

  Very calmly, Stacey righted the chair and sat down again. “Sweetie, I think maybe we should go to the hospital.”

  So, this wasn’t going very well. “I don’t need a hospital. I need you to believe me.”

  Closing her eyes, Stacey rubbed her lids, looking suddenly very tired. “Okay, let’s say I believe you.” She opened her eyes and regarded Jillian with concern. “Where is Reseph now?”

  “Greece, maybe. It’s where Reseph’s sister, Limos, took me.”

  “You… were in Greece.” Stacey’s voice dripped with disbelief.

  Jillian nodded. “We traveled through some sort of gate that lets them be anywhere in seconds. We went to Reseph and Limos’s brother Ares’s place. Reseph was in bad shape. The memories of what he’d done were haunting him.”

  “I’d hope so, given that he’s responsible for the deaths of millions.” Stacey coughed a little. “You know, if it’s true.”

  “It’s true. But it wasn’t him. It was his evil half, a demon named Pestilence.”

  “Riiiight.” Stacey loo
ked at Jillian like she was sizing her up for a straightjacket. “Maybe you should come stay with me for a little while. We’ll find someone to take care of the animals, and you can get some rest.”

  “I don’t need rest.”

  “Okay, what if Reseph comes back?”

  Clearly, Stacey saw Reseph as a threat, but probably because she thought he’d brainwashed her or drove her insane or got her hooked on drugs.

  “I don’t know.” And that was the problem. She didn’t know how she felt about everything that had happened. All she knew was that she loved Reseph, which made what he’d done as Pestilence harder to deal with.

  “So you’re saying that you can forgive everything his alter ego did? You know how no guy you’ve dated has turned out to be who you thought they were? Well, if it were a competition, Reseph would win world champion triple-gold medal.” Stacey gave Jillian a look that tacked on, if what you’re saying is true.

  The doorbell rang, making both Jillian and Stacey nearly jump out of their skin. Stacey reached automatically for her holster before cursing at its absence.

  “Civilian clothes,” she muttered. “Let me get the door.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not an invalid.” She tore open the door and silently cursed.

  “Good to see you again,” the Aegis guy, Lance, said. He glanced over Jillian’s shoulder and gave a curt nod. “Officer Markham.”

  “Who are you?” Stacey asked, moving next to Jillian. “How do you know my name?”

  “We know more than you can imagine.” Lance’s condescending smile was as annoying as his answer.

  “Lance and Juan are from The Aegis,” Jillian ground out, never taking her eyes off Lance. “A demon-hunting organization.”

  Stacey eyed the men and their truck, her expression guarded. “Are you here about the local killings? There’s already been a team from DART here to investigate.”

  Oh, right. Jillian had forgotten to mention that the DART guys were also involved with the Horsemen. One of them was even married to one. That would have been the nail in Stacey’s skepticism coffin.

  “We’re not here about that,” Juan said. “We were wondering if Jillian had seen Reseph lately.”