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Authors: Larissa Ione

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BOOK: Reaver
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Silky soft lips brushed her cheek again. “There… can… in… rest.”

She started. Words? She’d heard him! Finally, her hearing was coming back online. “Who…” She

swallowed, but her mouth might as well have been a desert. “Who are you?”

“It’s… I… you’ll… okay. Tav will… and rest.”

The words were louder this time, but no clearer. Her heart started to pound. What should she do?

Plot an escape? Help him with whatever it was he was doing? She hated this. Hated not knowing what

was going on or what she should do. Worst of all, she hated not knowing what she should feel. Fear?

Gratitude? Both were emotions that didn’t come easily to her.

She was far more comfortable with hate.

The male stopped and smoothed his finger over the shell of her ear. The telltale tingle of healing

energy entered her body and, as if the world had suddenly gone from peaceful night to daytime in the

city, sounds flooded her ears. In the distance, there were shrieks and barking noises. Somewhere close

by, the distinct rattling of crispy tree leaves in the breeze joined the male’s labored breathing.

“Tell me,” she rasped, “your name.”

“It’s me,” he murmured in a voice that filled her with disbelief. Dread. Relief. Emotions that didn’t

mix well. Like fear and gratitude. Love and hate. “It’s me. It’s Reaver.”

Five

“R-Reaver?”

Reaver held Harvester’s frail body tight against his as he navigated the final steps of a winding

ledge that dropped them into a world of weird. “It’s me. It’s okay. We’re safe.”

Relatively safe, anyway.
Relative
meaning that they weren’t dead. Yet. He just hoped the same

could be said for Tavin, Matt, and Calder. When he’d left them to sneak into Satan’s realm, they’d

been engaged in a battle they’d initiated as a diversion. It had been a risky move, and Reaver could

only pray they’d make it to the rendezvous point.

A hunter’s horn sounded in the distance and was answered by another, closer horn signal. Satan’s

minions hadn’t gained ground, but they were spreading out.
Damn
.

He scanned the landscape of thorny plants, hills of blackened earth and trees, and twisted,

abandoned structures. Nothing moved.

He looked down at Harvester, and as before when he first saw her hanging over a pit of acid, he felt

sick to his stomach. He didn’t like Harvester even though he was grateful for the things she’d done,

but she didn’t deserve this; her naked body too thin and mottled with bruises and ligature marks, her

once silken black hair tangled and dull, and worst of all, missing her gorgeous green eyes.

Under ideal circumstances, an angel could heal from even the most heinous injuries within hours.

But these were far from ideal circumstances, and Harvester’s source of power, her wings, had been

severed. Without wings or medical assistance, it could take weeks, even months, for an angel’s body

to fully heal.

“I can’t risk healing you more than I did,” he said. “My power isn’t reliable right now, and I could

do more harm than good.”

“Reaver,” she croaked, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Why… how…”

“Shh.” He tucked her face into his chest, quieting her. “We’re going to meet up with some friends,

and then I’ll answer all your questions.”

Reaver and the assassins had worked out a plan A and a plan B. Plan A had been shot to hell when

iron gates had prevented Reaver from getting out of Satan’s realm to the south, where his companions

would have been waiting. Now, with demons in pursuit, they were on their way to plan B. Hopefully

Tav, Matt, and Calder had realized quickly that Reaver’s escape route had gone bad.

Inhaling the stench of rotten vegetation that permeated this section of Sheoul, he started away from

the skeletons of some burned-out buildings and toward a mountain range as expansive as the Rockies.

He moved swiftly, outrunning the sounds of pursuit and pausing once to blast a group of imps with a

ball of lightning. The sphere struck the leader, and from there sent electrical strikes at each of the

surrounding imps, frying them all in a handy eight-for-one.

Harvester slept in his arms, barely stirring when he stopped to listen for anyone following them. By

the time they neared the plan B meeting site, Reaver was sure they’d lost the demons—temporarily.

Reaver wasn’t naive enough to think they were off the hook. The demons chasing them were only the

first wave, the security detail unlucky enough to be guarding the dungeon Harvester was kept in.

Once Satan got wind of this, if he hadn’t already, Reaver and Harvester were going to have legions

of minions on their heels.

A trail carved into sheer canyon walls dropped them into a narrow valley, where he found Tavin

near a dense copse of twenty-foot-high larva-nettle bushes that bit like snakes. Worse, the bastards

implanted their larva into the victim, and anyone unlucky enough to play host to the spiny larva died a

week later when branches started popping out of their bodies.

Wisely, Tavin had positioned himself several feet away.

“Dude.” Tav stepped out from behind a gnarled tree trunk, his crossbow up and ready to nail

anything that moved. “I can’t believe you fucking did it. Man, when all hell broke loose from inside

Satan’s realm, I figured you were a goner.”

“If you can’t get us out of here soon, I still might be.”

“I’ll get you out of here, but we still have a three-day journey to a spot where you can flash us out.”

Three days. They might not last three hours if they ran into Satan’s minions. “Where are Matt and

Calder?”

Tav used his bow to gesture to a path that wound between trees and jagged stones. “Calder’s

scouting the route ahead. We lost Matt in the Valley of Screams, but he knows this is where we’re

supposed to meet.” Tav’s voice, normally level, was strained. “I hope the warg’s okay. He’s my

drinking buddy. Plus, he’s supposed to introduce me to his sister. She’s a porn star. Fucking cool.”

Reaver hoped Matt was okay, too, but for different reasons. Reaver liked the guy, but more

important, Matt had agreed to be Harvester’s blood source. Now they were stuck waiting for him.

Without blood, her wings weren’t going to heal quickly enough to help them, and without wings, she

was almost powerless.

He shifted Harvester in his arms. “She needs to heal. Can you zap her?”

“No can do,” Tav replied. “I drained myself. Didn’t you see all the dead
croucher
demons at the top

of the canyon? The ones with popped eyes?” He jerked his thumb at his own chest. “My work. I’m

awesome.”

Well, Reaver couldn’t explode eyeballs, but he had other tricks up his sleeve, and they needed to

take shelter. He turned to the larva-nettle bushes and froze them with a mere word, turning them into

ice-glazed salads.

Harvester squirmed in his arms. “What’s happening?” Her voice was so raspy he could hardly

understand her.

“We’re at our rendezvous,” he said. “I’m going to put you down.”

“Bastard.” She clung tightly to him. “Don’t go.”

Only Harvester could push someone away while simultaneously keeping them close. She was the

most contradictory person he’d ever met.

And the fact that she wanted him to stay near was an indication of how traumatized she was. He’d

seen her in emotional and physical pain before, and her response had always been to retreat like a

wounded animal.

“I’m not leaving.” He ran his hand over her hair in long, soothing strokes, but she didn’t release her

iron grip on his shoulders. “I promise. I have to clear out a place to rest, but I’ll be only a few feet

away, and Tavin will be here with you. Do you remember him? He tried to kill Arik that one time.

Limos still gives Tav the evil eye for nearly gutting her husband.”

“It was nothing personal,” Tavin muttered. “I
am
an assassin.”

Harvester nodded, but Reaver still had to peel her off him. He placed her gently on the ground,

where she wrapped her arms around her knees and huddled, her body shaking. She wasn’t cold, not in

this sweltering heat. But he knew too well how trauma and fear manifested, and he hoped that once

she’d eaten, rested, and cleaned up her strength and stamina would return.

But would
she
return? She could be a world-class wench when she wanted to be, but he much

preferred that over the quiet, frightened Harvester. This new Harvester could have him softening

toward her, and he’d learned that she was a master at exploiting soft spots.

Tav gave him an I-got-it-handled nod, and as quickly as Reaver could, he wrestled iced-over

branches aside and burrowed his way into the center of the bush. At their cores, larva-nettles were

hollow, creating a natural hideaway that few would bother trying to search. Once the thing thawed, it

would ignore whatever had secreted itself inside it and would go back to defending itself against

anyone who came close.

He removed a blanket from his backpack, spread it on the ground, and went back outside.

Tavin grabbed Reaver’s arm and lowered his voice. “We can’t stay here long. Matt can catch up.”

“I know.” Reaver looked over at Harvester, who was still curled up tight, her forehead resting on her

knees as she rocked slowly back and forth. “But she can’t continue like this. We’ve traveled for hours

and she hasn’t improved. She needs rest.” He eyed the Sem. “If worse comes to worse, are you okay

with letting her feed from you?”

Tavin snorted. “I’m always okay with having a female’s mouth on me.”

Reaver bristled. “Feeding
only
.”

“Chill, buddy. She’s in bad shape, and I do have standards.”

Reaver wondered if Tav’s standards meant he didn’t do fallen angels, or if his standards were about

not screwing badly injured people. Hopefully both.

“Glad we’re clear,” Reaver said, giving Tav an uneasy look. Ingesting incubus blood made a lot of

species mad with lust, and the energy expended on sex would lessen the healing effects of the blood.

Plus, the idea of Harvester getting naked with the demon made Reaver uneasy. And the fact that he

was uneasy made him even more uneasy. Why should he care whom she had sex with?

“Clear as a False Angel’s tears,” Tavin said. False Angel tears were toxic to many, so Reaver wasn’t

sure how to take that. “But if you’re worried about it, why don’t you let her suck on you?”

Reaver’s cock jerked, clearly taking the suck thing the wrong way. “Because it’ll drain my powers,

and worse, angel blood can turn fallen angels into mindless beasts.” Harvester was difficult enough to

deal with
now
. “We’ll take turns standing watch. Can you take the first shift until Calder gets back?”

“Yup.”

“Let me know right away when Matt gets here.”

At Tav’s nod, Reaver gathered Harvester in his arms, slipped back inside the bush, and placed her

on the thin layer of wool. She simultaneously scooted away from him and gripped his wrist with

bruising force until he gently peeled her fingers away.

“I have food and clothes,” he said as he dug through the backpack for a canteen, a bottle of honey,

and another blanket.

Crouching in front of her, he draped the second blanket over her shoulders and wrapped her

carefully.

She said nothing as he gathered the ends and tucked them into her trembling hands. It wasn’t until

he put the canteen to her lips and she’d taken several swallows that she finally spoke.

“Do you have an
aurial
?”

Shit. Asking about a weapon designed specifically to kill angels didn’t bode well. “No,” he lied.

She let out a ragged breath. “Then how do you plan to kill me?”

“Kill you?”

“Aren’t you here to destroy me?” She sounded almost disappointed.

“Nope.” She didn’t need to know that he’d mentally prepared himself to do exactly that if

circumstances called for it. He wouldn’t allow her to suffer at her father’s command for all eternity.

He popped the cap on the honey and held it up. “Open your mouth.”

She swatted blindly, knocking the honey to the ground. “Are you taking me to be tortured?” Fisting

BOOK: Reaver
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