by Larissa_Ion
Thanatos, in black jeans and a henley that covered the 3D tattoos on his arms, thrust his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. “That’s not the worst of it.”
“Not even close,” Reseph added. “We were with Azagoth, a bunch of us, planning another sneak attack while Moloch’s forces were still reeling.”
Ares nodded. “We wanted to hit hard when he wasn’t expecting it, and before he hurt Lilliana.”
“We were too late,” Reseph spat. “The fucker cut off her wings and sent them to Azagoth. Moloch said that if we attacked again, the baby would pay.”
“If I were still a fallen angel,” Harvester growled, “I would go to Moloch now and rend him limb from limb while I drank his blood and promised him eternal pain.”
“I love how descriptive that was,” Limos chirped as she walked up to them from inside the house. She looked ready to hit the surf in board shorts and a swimsuit, her long, black hair up in a messy bun, the few stray wisps held back by the sunglasses pushed up on top of her head.
“Do you really think it was descriptive?” Harvester asked. “I was trying to tone it down. Reaver says I sometimes need to read the room better before I speak.” She frowned. “I am truly sad about Lilliana. Losing her wings inside Sheoul will weaken her immensely. She must be in excruciating pain.”
A raw ache erupted in Reaver’s shoulders as if his body remembered the time Harvester had held him captive in her fallen angel lair inside Sheoul and sawed off his wings.
He shot her a glare. “You think?”
A breeze blew her midnight hair around her face as she turned to him. “I am genuinely sorry. No matter how big of an asshat you were, you didn’t deserve that.”
“Ah, thank you? I think.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You also smashed me under a mountain.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yes.”
Ares rolled his eyes and waved for them to follow him toward the house. “Stay for dinner. We’re having a seafood boil. We can talk while we eat. Jillian, Regan, Arik, and all the kids will be here soon.” He glanced over at Reaver. “Have you seen Serena yet?”
Reaver shook his head. “I was supposed to go by the house, but I had to cancel.”
“What’s more important than visiting Wraith’s widow?” Thanatos’s voice pitched low with disapproval, and Reaver had a feeling he wasn’t dealing well with losing his friend. The Horseman might be known as Death, but he hadn’t had to deal with it personally much at all.
Harvester popped her sunglasses up to give Than a level stare. “Don’t talk to your father that way.”
Thanatos’s lips peeled back, revealing fangs he usually kept hidden. “You’re not my mother.”
“And too bad for you,” she snapped. “Because I wouldn’t have abandoned any of you.” She paused, thinking. “Except maybe Reseph.” She jabbed her finger at Thanatos. “And I can still take you by your ear and shake some sense into you.” She demonstrated that by using her power to lift Thanatos by the ear to his toes before dropping him again, the twin braids at his temples slapping against his cheeks as his boots hit the pavers.
“Okay, you two, knock it off.” Reaver took Harvester’s hand and turned to Thanatos. “I had to cancel my visit with Serena because the Angelic Council summoned me.”
“Oh, shit.” Limos spoke around a lollipop she’d just shoved into her mouth. “About Azagoth?”
He nodded. “Word is starting to filter up about the trouble.”
“How much do they know?” Ares asked.
They knew way more than Reaver had expected. “They’re aware that Moloch has Lilliana, and that Revenant is missing. They’re guessing that Moloch is using Lilliana to secure Satan’s release, but they don’t know for sure.” Neither Reaver nor Metatron had confirmed the theory. Doing so would almost certainly guarantee a swift decision to have Azagoth destroyed in order to prevent Armageddon. “The good news is that they don’t know what Azagoth has done to retaliate, so they don’t know he’s in violation of his contract.”
“What happens if they find out?” Reseph asked.
Nothing good. “The Council of Orders will get involved.”
The CoO, the highest authority in Heaven save the Big Guy, would act on a breach of contract, and they had never been known for mercy or generosity. If something was so monumental that it landed on their desks, they figured it needed to be dealt with swiftly and decisively. There was no such thing as going light.
It was they who had made the decision to erase and rebuild human memories—more than once. It was they who wiped out the advanced civilization of Atlantis after they decided it was a bad idea to use angel DNA in order to evolve humans more quickly.
It was they who would give the order to destroy Azagoth if the time ever came.
“So the Council of Orders is bad.” That from Limos.
Harvester nodded. “Very bad.”
“Speaking of bad.” Limos bounced on her toes as they started up the mansion steps. “Did you know we caught one of the fallen angels who killed Wraith?”
Reaver stopped dead in his tracks. “Who?”
Thanatos shoved his sleeves up as if preparing to punch someone, and the stallion glyph on his forearm stomped its hoof. “A cocksucker named Curson.”
“Curson,” Reaver repeated. “I never met him.”
Harvester snorted. “He is such an arrogant, craven piece of shit.” She paused, looked at Than. “Is? Or was?”
Limos answered with a grin. “Was.”
“Cool.” Harvester high-fived Limos. “As I was saying, he was a shitbag. He used his status as one of my father’s original followers to get whatever he wanted in Sheoul. Even though they had a falling out a few hundred years ago. Such a prick. What did he say?”
“That he and the other two fucks in the parking lot work for Moloch,” Thanatos said. “They knew Wraith had lost his immunity charm because Moloch arranged it.”
Reaver had suspected as much. “Did he say how?” The shifting, fleeting glances the Horsemen gave each other made Reaver nervous. “Tell me.”
“It was Revenant.”
Dammit! Although Reaver had considered that possibility for a split-second, he hadn’t truly believed his brother could have had anything to do with Wraith’s death. It was still possible that Curson was lying or that he’d been intentionally fed the wrong information, but Reaver had to admit that it made sense. No one else could have gotten close enough to Wraith to remove the charm without him knowing about it.
“He wouldn’t have done it without a good reason,” Reaver said, hating that he sounded defensive and petty.
“Like what?” Ares stopped at the front door and turned to Reaver.
“I don’t know. But something’s going on with him and Blaspheme. She hasn’t shown up for work at the hospital, and no one can get ahold of either of them. No one has seen Revenant since—” He broke off as something Eidolon said came back to him. “Shit.”
Harvester had been playing with her diamond Tiffany key necklace, but now she stilled. “What is it?”
“Before Wraith went out into the parking lot, he said he’d just seen Revenant.” The doctor had been choked up, his voice destroyed by grief, and Reaver had barely understood him. “Eidolon said Revenant stopped by the house to give Serena a book. He thought it was strange because Blaspheme had been missing, and Rev didn’t bring it up at all.”
Limos popped the lolli out of her mouth. “Can’t you sense him or something?”
“Only if he’s in Heaven or if he summons me from the human realm. I’ve tried summoning him, reaching out with my mind, everything I can think of. Nothing.”
“Moloch abducted Lilliana and is using her as a bargaining chip,” Harvester reminded him. “It’s not a stretch to think that he did the same to Blaspheme to get what he wants out of Revenant.”
Reseph backhanded a mosquito. Apparently, even Horsemen got bitten. “Why would Moloch want Revenant to destroy Wraith’s invincibility?”
�
�Moloch didn’t give a shit about Wraith,” Thanatos said. “He wanted the fallen angels to help him, and that was their price.”
“Maybe,” Reaver said. “But there’s more to it than that, or Revenant wouldn’t be missing. Moloch needs Revenant out of the way so he can take control of Sheoul until Satan is freed from his prison.”
“You think he’s trapped Revenant somehow? But he’s so powerful.”
“Revenant and I trapped Satan,” Reaver pointed out. “Nothing is impossible.”
But, man, the idea that Rev was imprisoned was sobering. If Revenant could be taken down, Reaver could, as well.
“So, what are we going to do?” Limos asked.
“I’m still hunting the fuckers who killed Wraith,” Thanatos said. “One down, two to go. As soon as dinner is over.”
Reaver was so on board with that. “We also need to find Revenant. He can kick Moloch’s ass, get Lilliana back, and keep Azagoth from doing something that will get him put down by the Council of Orders.”
Harvester chewed her bottom lip for a second. “What book?”
“What?”
“What book did Revenant take to Serena?”
Reaver frowned. “Eidolon didn’t say. But maybe we should find out.” He looked at the Horsemen and squeezed Harvester’s hand. “We’ll be back.”
He didn’t give anyone a chance to argue or ask questions. He flashed off the island with Harvester and materialized on Wraith and Serena’s porch. He’d been here just last month, pounding beers with Wraith and Shade as they watched the kids play in the yard.
Sadness swamped him. Maybe he hadn’t needed to be at the Angelic Council meeting as early as he had. Perhaps he had, selfishly, been glad for an excuse to not pay Serena a visit yet. Because, no, he did not want to be here.
“I can see it,” Harvester said quietly. “Their grief. It’s like a gray aura surrounding the house.”
He didn’t see it, but he sure as hell felt it.
Eidolon’s mate, Tayla, opened the door before he could knock. She looked less composed than usual, her burgundy hair covered by a baseball cap, but her smile, while not as bright as usual, welcomed them both.
“It’s good to see you.” She gave each of them a brief hug. “Come in. Runa’s here, too. We don’t want Serena to be alone right now.”
“How’s she doing?” Harvester asked, her voice thick with rare compassion. She’d liked Wraith and his impulsive, non-repentant nature.
“Not good.” Tayla’s green eyes, red-rimmed from crying, began to water. “She’s holding it together for Stewie, but barely.” She gestured to the bathroom. “Excuse me. I need a moment.”
There had been a time when Tayla and Wraith had hated each other, but they’d eventually learned to tolerate one another. More recently, they’d become close, and this was clearly taking a toll on her.
They found Serena in the kitchen, sitting at the table with Runa, and after a round of hugs and some sobbing, Reaver finally found words of condolence.
“I’m so sorry, Serena. If there’s anything I can do—”
“Can you bring him back?” Her question was genuine, expected, and it nearly shattered his composure.
“I wish I could,” he said roughly. “If it was a matter of rules, I’d break them. But I simply don’t have the ability.”
She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, the lack of Wraith’s mate mark, a replica of his dermoire on her left arm and hand, a stark reminder of what she’d lost. What they’d all lost.
“Do you know why his soul is trapped? Is he suffering?”
Reaver didn’t know the answer to either question, and he didn’t want to hurt Serena more than she already was, so he sat next to her and took her hand.
“Hades is making sure he’s as safe and comfortable as possible.”
“But I don’t know Hades,” she sobbed. “He doesn’t know Wraith, and—”
“Actually, he does know Wraith.” Reaver caught her gaze, wanting her to fully understand what he was about to say. “They met after a battle once. Wraith mouthed off, and they were like best friends. Trust me, Hades is a…” He tried to come up with a word that worked for the guy. Good? Nah. Decent? Nope.
“Dutiful male,” Harvester finished, saving Reaver several awkward seconds.
Reaver nodded. “He takes his duties seriously, and he will treat Wraith with the utmost respect.”
“Okay.” Serena blew her nose, and Reaver waited until she was done to bring up the reason they were there.
“Serena…Wraith said Revenant brought you a book. What book?”
She pointed to a tome on the counter. “It’s weird. I didn’t ask for it, so I don’t know why he brought it.”
Harvester picked it up and frowned down at it. “Into the Abyss. Hmm. I’ve read this before.”
Abyss. Why did that word keep coming up? “What’s it about?”
Harvester turned it over in her hands. “It’s about an angel whose mate went missing and the lengths he went to in order to find her. He goes total John Wick. Loses his wings and everything.” She flipped it open, and a piece of paper fell out, but she caught it with her power and floated it up to her hand. “It’s from Revenant.”
Reaver surged to his feet, his heart pounding. “What’s it say?”
“It says he’s sorry, and to give this note to Reaver.” She shrugged and handed it to him.
The instant he touched the sheet, an electric buzz shot up his arm, and more hastily scrawled words formed on the paper. His gut sank as he read.
I fucked up, bro. I gave Moloc and Bael too much freedom, and by the time I realized my mistake, it was too late. Moloch has Blaspheme, Reav. I did what I had to do to keep her alive. I want to fix it, but I have to find my mate. Forgive me.
Rev
“Well?” Harvester came up behind him. “What’s it say?”
Feeling the weight of everyone’s stares, Reaver looked up. “It says he’s in trouble. And if he’s in trouble, we’re all in trouble.”
Chapter 24
Revenant trudged through the knee-deep boiling river, an endless fucking body of water whose banks of hardened lava were even hotter than the water itself. Steam rose all around him, burning his skin, his nostrils, his eyes. Like the flesh on his submerged legs, the steam injuries healed almost instantly, which allowed him to get burned again. The endless cycle of pain was brutal, but he kept moving. Kept working his way toward his mate.
“Go to the source of the River Scaldera and climb the steps of the Temple of Tremors. If you love your female enough, you’ll find her.”
Moloch didn’t even have the balls to tell Revenant to his face where he could find Blaspheme. He’d sent a lackey, who was now minus his balls.
It was a preview of what would happen when Revenant got ahold of Moloch.
That son of a bitch!
Revenant should have destroyed him long before this. He should have taken out any demon or fallen angel who might even think of posing a threat to him. Now, the bastard had amassed an army of demons, the size of which hadn’t been seen before. And if Azagoth caved, Satan might be freed to take command.
It was a disaster of near-biblical proportions, way ahead of schedule.
Water rushed around his legs, but the river had narrowed and grown more shallow. Even the banks, blackened with ash, no longer glowed beneath the thick layer of cooled rock. Ahead, through the thinning steam, he saw a massive temple, carved from an entire mountain.
Despite the circumstances and the excruciating pain, he stared in awe. It must have taken tens of thousands of demons thousands of years to build. He’d heard stories, of course, but as one of the many places in Sheoul that were inaccessible via conventional means, like flashing, he’d never come. Not even the thriving tourism industry run by Skimmer devils who operated boats that could navigate the scalding waters could have gotten him here. Not that that option had even been available to him. Moloch’s forces had slaughtered all the boat operators and destroyed the ves
sels. Apparently, Moloch had wanted Revenant to slog through the river for days before reaching the temple.
Fucking dick. Revenant was going to boil Moloch’s balls in a pot over a bonfire. Right in front of him.
Then there’d be a weenie roast.
Revenant glanced back at the endless ribbon of steamy river as it cut through the mountains and valleys, and he wondered how many times his legs had been boiled to the bone during the journey.
At first, he’d flown. At least, he’d tried. A powerful, constant downdraft had kept him from sailing above the vapor, and it hadn’t been long before the heat singed his wings, and the steam saturated his feathers. Shriveled and waterlogged, they could no longer support him, and he’d plunged into the roiling waters after only a few miles of flight.
I’m coming, Blaspheme.
Step after agonizing step, he got closer to the great staircase. The river narrowed, winding toward the steps where it disappeared beneath them, presumably continuing to its source somewhere under the temple.
Steam swirled around Revenant as he finally stepped out of the water and onto a stone step. His legs wobbled, and he went down to his knees, his body trembling, his lungs taking in great breaths as his body demanded a moment to heal.
There was no time for that. Not when Blaspheme could be suffering untold horrors. He tried to stand, and when his legs failed him, he crawled.
Gradually, as he heaved himself upward, sensation returned to his extremities. Normal feeling. He came to his feet, his legs shaking, but yeah, buddy, he was on his way to not feeling like a poached salmon.
He looked up. Down. Let out a thousand different curses.
He’d been crawling up the steps for hours, and he’d barely made a dent in the distance. The staircase stretched endlessly, disappearing into noxious clouds from the volcanoes.
“Fuck. Me,” he breathed.
Rolling his shoulders, he felt a tingle of health deep inside his wings. He popped them and let out a whoop of sheer joy. The feathers were still a little curled, and he might fly as if he’d had a few too many shots of tequila, but his wings would get him to the temple entrance halfway up the mountain.
