Reaper

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Reaper Page 9

by Larissa_Ion


  “More powerful than you?” Hawkyn solemnly considered that. “Reaver? He was friends with Wraith.”

  “Perhaps.” And there could be any number of reasons why the most powerful angel in Heaven would tether a soul to a body. Azagoth didn’t know what any of them could possibly be, though. Nor did he care. Not right now. “Take the body to Hades. He’ll keep it safe until we can release Wraith’s soul into the Inner Sanctum, or someone comes to claim it.”

  “Someone?” Hawkyn sounded aghast. “We can’t let just anyone claim it.”

  “I have bigger concerns right now,” Azagoth snapped. “My sons are dead, and my pregnant mate is being tortured. I have more important things to worry about than—”

  A phone rang, and Hawkyn slid the ringing device out of his pocket. “You dropped this when you launched through the library ceiling.”

  It wasn’t Azagoth’s.

  Sub-zero rage was the only thing keeping him calm as he took the phone he’d watched the video and live feed on and put it to his ear.

  “Release Satan, and I’ll release your mate.” The words, spoken with an ancient Sheoulic dialect, came over the airwaves in a deep, sinister voice that Azagoth recognized. One he wasn’t surprised to hear. Hatred curled in his belly.

  “Moloc,” he snarled. “You—”

  “It’s not Moloc anymore. It’s Moloch. With an H.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you call yourself.” Azagoth wasn’t in the mood to play this nutbag’s game of names. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “No,” Moloch said, sarcasm dripping across the airwaves. “I accidentally killed the Grim Reaper’s brats, poisoned his mate, and kidnapped her.”

  “Return her now, and I won’t torture you before I kill you.” No, he’d have an eternity to inflict pain on the fucker while his soul resided on the worst level of the Inner Sanctum.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Azagoth.” In the background, Azagoth heard a whimper, and he prayed it hadn’t come from Lilliana. “Release the Dark Lord. You have forty-eight human hours.”

  The line went dead.

  Hawkyn went taut as Azagoth lowered the phone from his ear. “What did he say?”

  “He said I have forty-eight hours to release Satan. He also said he’s not afraid of me.”

  He felt icy hatred expand inside him, slowly at first, and then building to an avalanche of malevolence. He ran his tongue across one fang and savored the sharp sting, the metallic taste of blood he imagined to be Moloch’s.

  “But soon, he will be.”

  Chapter 12

  When Idess arrived in Sheoul-gra, she was greeted by toppled statues and trees, buckled swaths of ground, and a half-dozen grim faces.

  Not a good sign.

  Jasmine, barefoot and dressed in multicolored harem pants and a midriff-baring black tank top, sashayed forward as Idess stepped off the portal’s platform. “We’re so glad you came.”

  Hawkyn nodded in agreement. “Thank you for coming.”

  Truthfully, Idess had been grateful when Hawkyn’s text had given her a reason to escape the heartbreak in her extended Seminus family, if only for a little while. Her mate, Lore, had only known Wraith—and his other half-brothers, Shade and Eidolon—for a few years. But they, along with Lore’s twin, Sin, had grown close. So close that when Idess and Lore wanted a child but couldn’t conceive due to Lore’s sterility, the brothers had volunteered to help.

  Now, not only had their son lost his uncle, he’d also lost his birth father.

  A crushing sadness wrapped around her at the memory of telling Mace about Wraith. Mace’s brown eyes had filled with tears, and the first thing out of his mouth had been concern for his half-brother.

  “Poor Stewie,” he’d said. “He doesn’t have another daddy like I do. I can share with him, Mama.”

  Losing Wraith had sent the entire family into a state of deep mourning, and as she looked around Sheoul-gra, it seemed that things weren’t much better here.

  Journey’s and Maddox’s deaths were an awful blow, but the fact that Lilliana was still alive left room for hope.

  Which was why Idess suspected she was here.

  “I’m not sure how you expect me to help with Father,” she said. She couldn’t even help her mate right now. Hugs and refills of the whiskey glass only went so far.

  Jasmine gestured to the destroyed surroundings with a sweep of her arm, her dozens of bracelets tinkling delicately. “Take a look around. He did this. His mood isn’t getting any better.”

  And why would it? A monster had his mate. “What’s being done to locate Lilliana?”

  “He’s called in pretty much every favor owed to him,” Hawkyn said. “The Horsemen are helping, and Cara has sent hellhounds on the hunt.”

  Her brother’s tone was riddled with apprehension. “But?”

  “But Moloch has raised an army of Satan’s supporters with promises that he’s going to free him. There are rumors that Revenant has been imprisoned— or destroyed, depending on who you talk to. Without Revenant around, no one fears his retaliation and they’re flocking to Moloch’s banner.”

  “Dammit,” Idess breathed. “We’ve heard similar stirrings at the hospital. Eidolon asked all staff members to question patients about anything they’ve heard. He wants Wraith’s killers, and he’s convinced everything is connected.”

  “It has to be,” Cipher chimed in, his eyes glued to his iPad. “The fallen angels were in the parking lot to force Lilliana to use the Harrowgate. We’re not sure how Wraith’s death and trapped soul play a part, but we’ll figure it out.”

  She glanced up the ruined path to the fountain that had once run with blood, that had just yesterday run with crystal water. Now, it lay in ruins at the base of Azagoth’s palace.

  “Where is Father now?”

  “He’s in the Inner Sanctum.” Jasmine’s eyes flickered to Hawkyn, almost as if seeking permission to continue. And then she finished in a low, grave voice, “With a Charnel Apostle high priest.”

  Idess gasped. Charnel Apostles were evil even by Hell’s standards. Demons who celebrated violence and pain with religious zealousness, their priests and high priests possessed powerful, murderous abilities. But that wasn’t even the part that left her reeling. It was that no one was allowed in the Inner Sanctum except Azagoth, Hades, Cat, and the fallen angel wardens who ran the place. The millions—perhaps billions—of demons imprisoned there could take advantage of a visitor’s physical form and the powers inherent to it. A single human fingernail could allow a soul to escape into the human world. A hair from an angel could be fashioned into a weapon capable of killing all the wardens.

  “Why?” she asked, still stunned by the news.

  “We don’t know,” Jasmine said, and everyone traded glances, their discomfort clear. “That’s why you’re here. He needs counsel, and he’s not going to listen to any of us. He’s suspicious of almost everyone, but he trusts you. And Hawkyn.”

  She cut a glance at Hawk. “Then why aren’t you handling this?”

  “Because I need backup, Idess.” He looked exhausted. Everyone did. They had to know that the odds of getting Lilliana back weren’t good. “I’ve already delivered bad news to him. As the offspring he’s known longer than any of us, it’s your turn.”

  It was such a sibling thing to say, and she actually smiled a little before crashing back into reality. And the reality was that she was going to be a sacrificial lamb. The daughter who got disinherited for trying to take her elderly daddy’s keys away before he killed someone.

  “Fine,” she sighed as she shrugged out of her jacket and laid it across her arm. “You said in your text that you recovered Wraith’s body. Has Father taken care of his soul? His brothers and sister would like him returned.”

  Hawkyn shook his head. “His soul is tethered to his physical form by someone more powerful than our father. Hades is watching over Wraith for now.”

  How bizarre. Poor Wraith. Who would have messed with his soul? A
nd why?

  A minor tremor shook the ground, and Hawkyn looked up sharply. “You should go to Father.”

  This was not going to be pleasant.

  Hawkyn fell into step beside her on the walk to Azagoth’s office. They had to take several detours around objects, clearly the wreckage of Azagoth’s wrath. She didn’t bother asking what it had been about. His mate and unborn child were in danger; she was surprised the damage wasn’t worse.

  Then she saw the courtyard.

  Chunks of roof, soot, and a thick coat of dust covered everything in sight. The inside of the palace was even worse, with collapsed walls and several broken living statues. She’d never felt sorry for the evil beings Azagoth had encased in stone and put on display in his Hall of Souls, but she couldn’t help but wince when she had to step over some poor jackass’s shattered torso. That had to hurt.

  “You should see the library,” Hawkyn said, kicking aside a stone head with two broken horns. “I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot of collateral damage before all of this is over.”

  When powerful beings battled, there was always collateral damage. “Who do you think gave Lilliana the poison?”

  Hawkyn’s expression became even grimmer and more troubled than it already was. “I don’t know. I still can’t believe anyone here would do that.”

  “I’m surprised Zhubaal hasn’t expelled all but essential personnel.”

  “Father told him not to let anyone but me and a couple others leave Sheoul-gra.” Hawkyn stopped to let them into Azagoth’s office. “Only Memitim whose heraldis have activated can go to protect their Primori. He doesn’t want to give whoever poisoned her a chance to get away.”

  Made sense. And, man…she did not want to be around when he caught the bastard. Azagoth was going to make whoever it was wish they’d never been born. She shuddered as Hawkyn walked to the far wall and opened the portal to the Inner Sanctum.

  “Have you ever been inside?” she asked.

  “Just once, and only in the gateway area. I can’t even tell you what it’ll look like because it changes all the time. That’s where Father should be. I can’t imagine he’d take anyone, let alone a Charnel Apostle, to one of the rings.”

  No, she couldn’t imagine that, either. Azagoth, out of necessity, had very strict rules regarding who could enter the Inner Sanctum, and no one was allowed unless accompanied by him or Hades.

  “Maybe we should summon Hades,” she suggested.

  He shook his head. “Don’t need to. The portal will alert him to activity. If Azagoth isn’t right inside with the demon priest, Hades will be there shortly to kick you out.”

  “Then I should get going.” She hesitated, a sudden, disturbing thought popping into her mind. “Hawk? What if our father has taken the demon to one of the rings?”

  Shadows flickered in his bright green eyes, turning them into a forest at night. “Then things are even more serious than I thought.”

  “Got any tips?”

  “Yeah. Don’t get dead.”

  It was something Wraith would have said, and she smiled sadly as she stepped through the doorway and into one of the strangest areas she’d ever seen.

  Endless, parched gray earth stretched as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by six stone buildings that resembled mausoleums, one newer than the rest. There was definitely no Azagoth or Charnel Apostle priest.

  What she did notice was a crimson aura surrounding one of the buildings. Weird. Was that where Azagoth had gone?

  A rumble rose, shaking the ground. Footsteps? She spun around to see Hades in the distance, coming at her quickly, even though he appeared to be walking. How was he doing that?

  Get out.

  His voice boomed inside her head.

  Get out now!

  Shit. Without thinking, she sprinted to the crimson-ringed mausoleum.

  “Idess! No!” This time, his voice wasn’t inside her head. It was practically in her ear.

  She darted inside…and stepped out into a realm so horrifying, so grotesque, that she started to turn back.

  Until she heard Azagoth’s voice.

  Swallowing bile, she eased her way between blobs of bloody, quivering flesh the size of dump trucks, and skeletons that writhed on the ground. Things skittered and slithered underfoot, and twisted, bloated beings with their organs on the outside moaned as they hung from thorny crucifixes.

  She rounded a wall of snapping teeth, jumping backward when a fang caught her sleeve. Shit. She rubbed her arm as she peered beyond the wall and caught sight of her father on the edge of a cliff. The Charnel Apostle stood next to him attired in something straight out of Mad Max, including his helm, which appeared to be fashioned from the skull of some sort of humanoid creature.

  Azagoth watched as the priest chanted in Sheoulic, his bone staff glowing as he held it aloft. What was he doing?

  Suddenly, something grabbed her and covered her mouth. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t even see as she was spun and dragged into some sort of gooey cocoon. Panic frayed the edges of her control as visions of herself being slowly digested or chewed into burger meat filled her head. Then, Hades was there, his blade cutting through the rubbery arms that held her.

  “Fool,” he whispered harshly as he tugged her free. “This is no place for anyone who isn’t evil, let alone an angel.”

  She was no longer an angel, but now wasn’t the time to argue.

  Hades bared his fangs at her, teeth much larger than the ones on the wall. “Let’s go before Azagoth knows you’re here.”

  “I already know.” Azagoth’s voice, little more than a serrated growl, came from every direction, blowing Idess’s hair like a gust of wind. “Bring her to me.”

  Oh, no.

  Cursing, Hades glared at her and brought her before Azagoth as he stood at the precipice overlooking a valley. A gorge filled with demons. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands.

  The disappointment in his expression combined with the angry flames—literal flames—in his eyes, made her mouth go as dry as the desiccated husk of whatever creature currently lay at his feet.

  “So, you’re the chosen sacrifice.”

  She swallowed. “W-what?”

  “Your brothers and sisters. They chose you to spy on me and then talk me down if you discovered I was doing something crazy.”

  Relieved that he wasn’t being literal and needing a blood sacrifice for whatever he was doing here, she tried to muster a little dignity after being manhandled by first a carnivorous, stinky plant, and then by Hades.

  “It’s not like that,” she said, even though it was. “Everyone wants to help. We want to get Lilliana back.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  She eyed the demon priest, his chalky skin made paler by his black lips and dead, black eyes. “By doing what, exactly?”

  Azagoth gestured to the legions of demons below. “By enlisting their help.”

  She had a bad feeling about this. “Father, surely there are other ways.” She turned to Hades for help. “Right?”

  “Fuck that.” Hades held up his hands and stepped back. “Don’t put me in the middle of this shit. I just work here. For free, I might add.”

  The priest droned on, the crowd below chanting with him, and she caught a few stray words. But she couldn’t have heard what she thought she did. She listened more carefully as the priest’s chant grew louder and more frenzied. When it all finally clicked into place in her head, she gasped.

  “He…he’s giving them the power to kill.”

  Hades’ head whipped around to Azagoth. “I thought it was just the griminions.”

  The griminions, too?

  The air went bitterly cold as Azagoth took Hades by the throat. “And I thought you didn’t want to be in the middle of this shit.” He bared his fangs, discouraging any further comment before releasing Hades and turning his focus back on Idess. “Priest-boy here is giving a hundred thousand souls the power to make a single kill and possess the bod
y of their victim after griminions collect the soul. Then they’ll punch through Moloch’s defenses and rescue Lilliana.”

  Holy shit. The plan was ballsy, brutal, and a huge middle finger directed at Heaven. She couldn’t let him do this.

  “But, Father, Moloch has millions of supporters now. Even if your freshly re-souled soldiers get through the lines, even if they rescue Lilliana, Heaven will—”

  “What?” Azagoth snarled. “What can they do to me that they haven’t already done? I’m finished playing by their rules.”

  She wrung her hands, unsettled by his recklessness. “They’ll destroy you!”

  “They’ll bow to me.” His wings erupted, casting long shadows down into the valley of demons below. “Kill the first demon you see,” he shouted. “Any demon. I don’t care.”

  “Father.” Idess snared his wrist, pleading with him. “No. Please. We have demon friends. My mate and son are demons.”

  Azagoth snarled and turned back to them. “Evil demons only. Go! Reap!”

  The Charnel Apostle thrust his fist into the air, and a blurry portal appeared against the face of a craggy cliff. The demons charged toward the opening, their bloodlust so thick in the air she could taste it on her tongue.

  She shouldn’t say anything. She should keep her mouth shut. But that wasn’t how she was made. Azagoth was making a mistake, and someone was going to pay the price.

  “Heaven isn’t going to let this stand,” she said softly. “It’s one thing to take out an enemy. It’s another to release a hundred thousand souls and allow them to kill a hundred thousand people.”

  “Do you truly think I care?” He gazed out over the hell he’d created, his profile as harsh as his surroundings. “Without Lilliana, I am nothing. Nothing matters but getting her back.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Get her out of here, Hades.”

  She didn’t protest. Simply let Hades guide her back to Azagoth’s office, where Hawkyn was waiting. The moment Hades shut down the portal and disappeared, she filled her brother in on everything.

  Hawkyn listened, his expression growing more concerned with every word. Finally, he closed his eyes and rubbed them with his palms.

 

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