Reaper

by Larissa_Ion

  “Then Azagoth should have thought about that before he went insane,” Phaleg shot back. “It’s already done.”

  That announcement dropped like a silence bomb in the chamber, and Azagoth wheeled around to Reaver, the only person he trusted to explain this bullshit. “What the fuck?”

  Reaver exhaled slowly. “Remember right after Bael’s death, when I warned you not to kill Moloc? I gave you a message directly from the Moirai. ‘If you kill him, all that you know, all that you are, will be destroyed.’ Remember that? You’ve changed your life and the lives of everyone you know, of those you don’t even know.” Reaver waved away Harvester’s offer of her drink before rethinking it, swiping it, and taking a substantial gulp. “Look,” he said, as he handed the glass back to her, “I’ve broken rules and affected lives, so I’m not going to blow hypocritical smoke up your ass. But no matter how much good you think you’re doing, no matter how right you think you are, there are always consequences.”

  Rage, hot but impotent, seared Azagoth’s insides. Lilliana was furious too, but dammit, Reaver was right. Azagoth had known what he was doing when he did it, and he hadn’t cared. Nothing had mattered but getting Lilliana back.

  And he had.

  He had his mate and his daughter, and his surviving children were safe with Ares. Unfortunately, his daughter would pay the price for what he’d done, and he’d regret that for the rest of his life.

  But at least she was alive.

  Still, he’d been elated at the prospect of one of his children growing up without a pre-determined destiny, and Lilliana had been, as well. He’d fucked that all to shit, hadn’t he? He didn’t even want to look Lilliana in the eye, afraid, for just a moment, of what he’d see.

  What if she couldn’t forgive him for this? What if Raika couldn’t?

  Lilliana exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath, but her voice was strong and even as she faced the angels.

  “I don’t like it, but we have years to work it out.” She gave him a reassuring smile before gesturing to the unending whiteness. “Are we supposed to do it from here? This…what is it, anyway?”

  “It’s a prison we maintain in the human realm,” Phaleg said, speaking more to Azagoth than to Lilliana. “The location is secret. Especially from evil assholes like you.”

  Suddenly, Phaleg’s head whipped back, and he stumbled a few steps as if he’d been sucker-punched.

  “Don’t call him an asshole again,” Lilliana growled. “And maybe you should consider shielding Heavenly power here, as well as Sheoulic power.”

  “You bi—” Phaleg broke off as Azagoth snared the fucker by the throat. “Don’t say it. Seriously. You’ve seen what lengths I’ll go to when it comes to my female.”

  Harvester laughed. “Please, Phaleg. Say it. I dare you.”

  “Let him go,” Metatron intoned, clearly not overly concerned. Azagoth released the idiot, who rubbed his throat and glared. “We have a place set aside that you’re going to love.”

  He’d said that with a straight face, so maybe this place wouldn’t be too bad.

  And, as it turned out, it wasn’t.

  Chapter 45

  Reaver and Revenant materialized in Underworld General’s parking garage, which was packed with cars. The black ambulances were in their designated spaces, and a paramedic Reaver didn’t know was hosing one out.

  “You ready?” Reaver asked, and Revenant cursed.

  “This is not going to be pleasant.”

  Apologizing for Wraith’s death, and worse, the unknown status of his soul? Yeah, Reaver wouldn’t want to be in Revenant’s size-ginormous boots right now.

  The emergency department was strangely quiet and packed with far more staff than patients. As the doors closed behind them, Eidolon turned, and a moment later, everyone was staring. Some seemed curious, like Eidolon and Con, Sin’s vampire mate, and Gem and Kynan. Others, namely the rest of Wraith’s siblings, Shade, Sin, and Lore, were staring daggers at Rev.

  Serena, Wraith’s mate, stood quietly between Tayla and Runa, watching them with red-rimmed eyes as she rubbed the bare skin on her arm where Wraith’s mate-dermoire had been.

  “Oh, good, you’re all here.” So much sarcasm dripped from Revenant’s voice that the floor was slippery with it. Frowning, he glanced around at the lack of activity. “Wouldn’t know a war just took place.”

  “We’ve diverted the patient load to the clinic for a few minutes.” Eidolon walked toward them. “The staff wanted a celebration of Wraith’s life.” He glared at a couple of smiling male nurses. “Although I think some of them are here to celebrate his death.”

  “I’m sorry about Wraith,” Revenant said, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I liked him. Better than the rest of you. But Blaspheme’s life was in danger—”

  “You’re still a bastard,” Shade snarled.

  “And that’s not going to change,” Revenant shot back.

  “Cocksucker,” Sin growled, and Reaver stepped in before things devolved.

  “We came to tell you about Sheoul-gra,” Reaver said. “It’s been destroyed.”

  The room went silent. Even the patient wailing in one of the exam rooms had shut up.

  “Destroyed?” Eidolon finally repeated, clearly rattled.

  “Hell’s fucking bells,” Shade muttered. “This is going to blow up in a big way.”

  A murmur started up in the room as everyone grabbed their phones to text, tweet, or email the news.

  Eidolon scrubbed his hand over his jaw. The demon looked exhausted; like he could use a month of sleep. Everyone in the room did.

  “What about Lilliana?” he asked.

  “She’s okay. She and the baby are both fine,” Reaver said.

  “And…Wraith? Did Azagoth release his soul?” Serena lost all the color in her face. “What happened to the souls in Sheoul-gra?”

  Poor Serena. She and Wraith had something special. They’d sacrificed their very lives for each other during their journey together, and Reaver wished he could give her some kind of positive update, but he only had bad news.

  “Azagoth released all the souls in Sheoul-gra,” Revenant said, and Serena let out a sob.

  “So Wraith’s soul is wandering around Sheoul, alone and lost?” She buried her face in her hands as Tayla’s arm came around her.

  Reaver shook his head. “Azagoth gave them physical form. He was somehow able to—” Reaver broke off as what he’d just said sank in.

  Azagoth had given the souls in Sheoul-gra physical form.

  Wraith’s soul had been in Sheoul-gra.

  Holy shit. Was…was it possible?

  The Harrowgate flashed.

  Somehow, Reaver knew even before it opened, that Wraith would step out.

  The bastard did. Just walked out like he was arriving for work. Except he still wore the clothes he’d been in when he died, stained with dried blood. He looked as if he’d gone through a sausage grinder, and the invincibility charm was gone, but yeah, it was him.

  “Fuck, man,” Wraith said as he blinked at everyone. “What happened? Why the fuck did I wake up in the middle of a fucking battle—oof!”

  Serena reached him first, hitting him with a full-body embrace so enthusiastic that he fell against the wall. The others piled on, and Reaver smiled so hard, his cheeks hurt.

  Hell, yeah! That demon was impossible to kill.

  “He should be named Revenant,” Reaver said, glancing over at his twin.

  Rev was still staring. “The fuck, man? That’s crazy. Awesome, but crazy.” He grinned. “I’m off the hook for killing him.” He clapped Reaver on the back. “I’m outtie. I got a mess the size of a billion-demon war to clean up. See ya, bro.”

  Revenant took off, and Reaver was about to do the same when Wraith broke away from the pack of giddy demons, vampires, and werewolves, and came over.

  “They said you could explain what happened,” he said. “Did I save the world again?”

  Reaver laughed. Wraith’s death had
actually nearly done the opposite, but Reaver merely threw his arm around his friend’s shoulders and guided him back to his family so he only had to tell the story once.

  “Sure, demon, sure.”

  Chapter 46

  It didn’t take long for Lilliana and Azagoth to settle into their new home.

  Metatron had been right. It was amazing, and Lilliana loved it. Flaws and all.

  The secret private island in the South Pacific was even larger than Ares’ Greek hideaway. Which Azagoth thought was pretty cool.

  Lilliana was just happy about the sunlight and beaches, as well as the fact that she was now free to leave, which meant she could visit Cara and Cat, or she could shop, or eat out…both she and Azagoth could.

  But there was a downside.

  And it was a big one.

  The island had been created by angels a thousand years ago, under the direction of the very people who had warned Azagoth not to kill Moloc. The Moirai, sequestered angels who existed on another plane and in all timelines at once, had commissioned the construction of the island with some very specific instructions.

  The Moirai had insisted that the island be a gateway to and from the Nether, a thin veil of existence between the human world and the Heavenly one, where the souls of humans went when their bodies died. There, they either waited to cross over, or they remained in the Nether, becoming lost and angry, their existences reported as ghosts by humans capable of seeing them.

  Under the direction of the Moirai, angels cloaked the island inside a spatial anomaly, creating twelve hours of daylight during which only Azagoth, Lilliana, and Raika, as well as Revenant and Reaver, could enter or exit. It was kind of a bummer, but it was certainly better than being trapped inside Sheoul-gra.

  And Azagoth had discovered one of the benefits of twelve hours of privacy.

  The fact that no one could visit meant that he could walk around naked as much as he wanted.

  Not a bummer for Lilliana.

  They’d discovered that as soon as he put on clothes, his newly permanent Grim Reaper attire would replace them. He could get away with a pair of shorts, but that was the extent of his ability to wear anything that wasn’t straight out of a dystopian hellscape.

  Which meant that while Azagoth could visit friends, he couldn’t exactly hang out in public places. Halloween could be fun, though.

  And to be honest, Lilliana loved that look. Leather pants and boots. Weapon harnesses loaded with blades. A duster that shrouded him in darkness, and a scythe that wore flame like a bodysuit. When he lifted his hood, his face disappeared and freaked people out. And beneath it all, the engraved scythe necklace she’d given him.

  Hot. So damned hot that he’d taken to lounging around the new house in his Reaper uniform just to see how long it took Lilliana to climb into his lap. Because…hot.

  So, basically, they had twelve hours of freedom. Twelve hours inside the human realm.

  The other half of the day, twelve hours inside the Nether…that was going to take some getting used to.

  Every night, right around eight o’clock, a fog rolled in, cloaking the entire island in an eerie, otherworldly mist that changed the character and color of everything it touched. All objects turned black and white, with all the shades of gray in between. The palm trees twisted into gnarled claws that punched out of ashen sand. Human souls wandered around, some seeking the light, others running from it. The creatures that emerged from the ocean were like nothing that lived in the human or demon realms. Even the palatial estate, an updated relic from the days of ancient Rome, took on cracks and an ashen tone—but only on the outside.

  As long as Lilliana or Azagoth closed the doors and windows, the Nether remained where it was supposed to be.

  It was during those twelve hours that outsiders who could access the Nether could access the island, and it was during those hours that Azagoth did his reaping.

  Lilliana figured things could be worse, and she liked being here more than she’d ever liked Sheoul-gra, so she couldn’t complain. She did miss having the Memitim around, especially now that she could see things from their perspective, but she visited Cara often and got to see everyone then.

  Azagoth’s new job was going well, although until he recruited some Reapers, he was busier than either of them liked. The griminions couldn’t sense non-evil death, so they mostly wandered around the Nether until they stumbled upon a soul that needed an escort, which meant that death collection was falling behind. Even worse, Heaven had already pulled all angels from the duty in order to address the chaos caused by the destruction of Sheoul-gra.

  With nowhere to go, the souls of dead demons and evil humans were wreaking havoc, and demonic possessions had risen to alarming levels. According to Suzanne, Declan and his Demonic Activity Response Team had a massive backlog of calls and more investigations in progress than they could handle.

  “Lilliana!” Azagoth’s voice rang out from inside the house, barely audible over the churning waterfall at the far end of the pool. The Moirai had been very luxurious in their vision for this place.

  Apparently, on the day Lilliana had mated Azagoth, the Moirai had been confident enough of their future that they’d demanded a modern update to the housing structure and its landscaping.

  “I’m in the pool,” she called out.

  He materialized on the deck before her voice even faded away. And he was gloriously naked. But then, so was she.

  This place was great.

  “I should have known,” he said as he started down the pool steps. “Where’s Raika?”

  “What, you missed the giant, slobbering hellhound over there in the shade?”

  He paused on the bottom step and glanced over at where Mal was sleeping, sprawled at the base of Raika’s bassinet as it sat in the shade of the cabana.

  They still hadn’t discussed another name for her. Well, they had, but it had gone nowhere because every time they tried, Raika had cried, reminding them why Jedda had called her that in the first place.

  Someday, Lilliana swore. But for now, she and Azagoth were all about just being happy.

  “I saw Revenant today,” Azagoth said as he moved toward her with the lazy nonchalance of a prowling shark.

  She let herself drift backward, and his mouth twitched in a predatory smile. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He came closer, the water now to the bottom of his pecs. She flutter-kicked a little, putting more distance between them. “He said Sheoul’s in chaos, and he wants to kick my ass. I’m thinking we’ll want to hold off inviting him and Blaspheme over for a barbecue.”

  She laughed, but he was probably right. “Did he say how Blaspheme is doing? I know she couldn’t have been thrilled about getting her halo.”

  Angels didn’t actually have halos, but it was a fun idea dropped right into their laps by human imagination.

  Azagoth took another step closer. “Eidolon can’t alter the enchantment that prevents angels from entering the hospital and clinic, but he’s building an addition that’ll allow her to work. They can bring patients to her, and she can also treat angels.”

  Since angels generally self-healed or could go to Heavenly healers, Lilliana didn’t think Blaspheme would have many angel patients. But she supposed that depended on how many angels were doing sketchy things in the human realm and would rather be treated by Blaspheme than by anyone in Heaven.

  “I’m happy for her,” Lilliana said. Azagoth was now nipple-deep, the water lapping at them the way she wanted to. “We’re supposed to have lunch in Paris next week.”

  She grinned simply because she’d gotten to say that. She had such amazing friends now, and for the first time, she could meet them in the outside world.

  “I talked to Cara today,” she added as Azagoth began to circle, the water licking at the base of his throat.

  “Mm-hmm.” Sunlight glinted off the water and played on the harsh angles of his tan face, and when he spoke, his fangs gleamed. “Go on.”

  He didn’t seem
to be paying attention to anything she was saying. She’d quiz him later, but right now, she’d play along. She was enjoying his game of predator versus prey.

  She shivered with anticipation.

  “Well,” she said, making a show of utter obliviousness by lying back to float, water sluicing from her breasts as they breached the surface. “She mentioned that Asrael is safe on the island, but he might be lonely, so you should consider sending a few griminions to keep him company. She also said that Zhubaal and Vex are working with Thanatos to hunt down the third parking lot angel. Some chick named Fearr. And, apparently, Razr decided to go to work for Ares. He and Jedda are getting a flat in Greece. I guess Jedda found a lot of some sort of magical stone there or something.”

  Razr’s Gem Elf mate had a particular talent for locating rare gems and powerful crystals, and she’d earned a fortune, even though she limited her sales to non-evil entities.

  “And I know you saw Hawkyn just a couple of days ago, but he and Aurora want us to visit their new place in Switzerland.”

  Azagoth had been spending a lot of time with Hawkyn—and all of his children. Just yesterday, she, Azagoth, and Raika had gone to Ares’ island for brunch, and while she’d hung out with Cara, he’d spent hours with the Memitim. He’d even gone out surfing with his youngest children.

  The idea of the Grim Reaper surfing still made Lilliana giggle. Next time someone needed to get it on video.

  “Uh-huh.” Azagoth surged closer, his wake making her bounce gently in the water.

  She splashed her hand playfully, doing her best imitation of a seal that had no clue a great white was almost upon it.

  “Oh, and it looks like Hades and Cat are getting a place in Sydney while he works on building a new Sheoul-gra, but she said he wants to call it something else. Tartarus, I think. He’s fond of Greek mythology. Wants to create some Titans, too—”

  Azagoth caught her, and she squealed in faux outrage. Laughing and splashing, he lifted her against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning his erection against her sex.