Reaver (8 page)

his T-shirt, she tugged him close, her sudden strength fueled by desperation. “I can’t… I can’t take

more. I know you hate me, but please, I’m begging you. Kill me.”

“I’m here to rescue you, Harvester.” Reaver cupped her cheek, hating how gaunt it felt, how papery

her skin was under his fingers.

Bewilderment left deep grooves in her forehead as she released him. “But… why?”

Once again, he held the honey up. “Open your mouth, and I’ll answer your questions.” When she

hesitated, he added, “It’s just honey.”

She went taut, and he wondered if she was remembering how, when she’d held him captive in her

home, she’d spooned honey into his mouth after he’d taken a brutal beating from Pestilence. He didn’t

push her, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she finally opened up and allowed him to squeeze a

small glop of the life-giving sugar onto her tongue.

Almost instantly, her color improved, and under her sunken eyelids, new tissue began to form.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

She hissed, flashing fangs as she struck out again, catching the honey bottle with her elbow and

barely missing raking him with her nails. “I’m not your girl.”

“Well,” he said, not bothering to hide his smile from her sightless eyes, “the good news is that the

honey gave you back your sparkling personality.”

“And the bad news?”

“The honey gave you back your sparkling personality.”

She huffed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Yep, she was back, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be irritated.

“You want to know why I’m here?” He reached for the honey bottle. Again. “It’s because I know the

truth about you. I know you’ve been Heaven’s spy since the Horsemen were cursed.”

Harvester’s fingers tightened on the blanket and her mouth worked silently for a few heartbeats.

“Who told you?”

“Raphael.” He squeezed more honey into her mouth.

The pink tip of her tongue swept her bottom lip to catch a sticky drop that clung there. Damn, even

as torn up as she was, she exuded a smoky sexuality that had made Reaver crazy from the moment he

met her. Sure, she’d attacked him for no reason and he’d hated her instantly, but hatred hadn’t put a

damper on the insane desire he felt whenever she was near.

He’d made a conscious effort to avoid her whenever he could because, like it or not, Reaver didn’t

have a lot of willpower when it came to lust.

And then she’d forced him to consent to the very thing he’d been trying hard to not even think

about.

“You agree to pleasure me at the time of my choosing.”

Harvester wouldn’t thank him for saving her, of that he was sure, but at the very least, he’d make

sure she let him out of the ludicrous bargain they’d struck last year when she’d rescued him from

Sheoul-gra.

“Raphael?” She frowned. “I still don’t understand. Why would the archangels send you?”

“They didn’t.”

“They…
didn’t
?” Dropping the blanket, she grabbed his shirt again, this time in both fists. “Tell me

they know you’re here.
Tell me
.”

“They
didn’t
know I was here,” he said, putting effort into keeping his voice light and calm, even

though he wasn’t feeling it, “but we stirred things up pretty good. They’ve probably gotten word by

now.”

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Oh…
no
.” Releasing him, she opened her eyes. They’d fully formed but

were crystal clear, not yet capable of sight. “They’re going to destroy you, Reaver.”

She said it like he wasn’t aware of that fact. And why did she care, anyway? “It’ll be okay—”

“No, it won’t! You fool!” she spat out. “You’ve signed your own death warrant.”

The blanket had pooled at her hips, leaving her upper body exposed, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Reaver noticed, but not because her breasts were perfect and he knew how they looked in a skimpy

bikini top. He noticed because of the light pink lash marks crisscrossing her chest, and a dark cloud of

anger descended on him. He suddenly wanted to lay waste to every vile creature who had laid a finger

on her.

He told himself his reaction was ingrained in his battle angel DNA—he’d always felt an intense

desire to kill demons who harmed people. He told himself that, but for some reason he heard

Eidolon’s voice in his head saying bullshit. The demon had always been a straight shooter.

And look at that, Reaver was an angel with a demon on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me right now.” He settled the blanket around her shoulders, but again, it went

ignored and fell open in front. “You need to save your strength to heal.”

“I’m not worried about you, and healing is pointless,” she replied. “You’ve got to kill me. Let Satan

think you pulled a lone wolf and did it to get back at me for kidnapping you and helping Pestilence.

The archangels will be furious that you went against their orders, but you’ll probably keep your wings.

It’ll be a win-win all around.”

“I’m not killing you, so stop asking. We need you to track down Gethel, and we have to do it fast.

She’s pregnant—”

“With Lucifer,” Harvester interrupted. “I know. Gethel wants me to be his Binky.”

“Binky?”

“His pacifier.” She tucked her legs under her, and he was glad to see some of the abrasions had

healed. “He’ll be born fully grown, and he’ll need the blood of a sibling to help him achieve full

strength. She already made a meal of me to make him stronger.”

Damn. “If we can kill him before he’s reborn, he won’t be using anyone as a Binky.”

One curvy shoulder shrugged under the blanket. “I’m not helping you track him down, so you might

as well kill me now.”

“Why won’t you help?”

“Because.”

He ground his teeth. “Whether you help or not, I’m not killing you, and that’s final.”

“You’re as stubborn as ever.”

“
I’m
the stubborn one?” His mind churned with reasons she would refuse to help find Lucifer, but

only one made sense. “You’re refusing to help find Lucifer just so I’ll kill you.”

“Maybe,” she said, “I’m refusing because I’m evil and Lucifer is going to be my brother. Ever think

of that?”

She wasn’t serious. She couldn’t be serious. But she’d never been easy to read, and her expression

right now would earn her a first-place ribbon at a mule show.

“I don’t believe you,” he ground out.

“Then maybe you’ll believe me when I say you’re going to regret not killing me.”

“
That
I believe.” He cursed, rethinking this entire rescue. “We’ll find Lucifer without your help.”

How, he had no idea. Just surviving the journey out of Sheoul was going to be difficult enough.

“Good luck.” The irritation in her tone was mixed with exhaustion, and a moment later, she yawned.

“Let me get Tav in here. You need to feed.” As much as he hated the idea of her feeding from the

incubus and getting all jacked up, he hated the fact that Harvester was so damaged even more.

Her sightless eyes shot wide. “No one touches me. Not until I can see.”

He didn’t want to be a dick and argue, but with his powers so compromised and probably every

demon in Sheoul after them, they needed her to be as strong as possible.

“You need to regrow your wings—”

“I said no,” she snapped, the color rising in her face. “Don’t you see that I’m
blind
?”

Saying she was blind was the closest Harvester had ever come to admitting to having any kind of

vulnerability. Bile rose in his throat at the level of desperation she must be feeling, and though it went

against every instinct, he gave her more time to come around.

“We can wait until you wake up.” Hopefully Matt would be back by then. Werewolves, with their

human origins, provided more nourishment than demons, by far. Very slowly, he reached for her. She

flinched when his fingers brushed her shoulder. “You need to get some rest.”

He urged her to lie back on the ground. She went without an argument, which told him how tired she

was. Harvester never did anything without a fight or a cutting word.

Closing her eyes, she curled up under the blanket, and within a couple of heartbeats, she was

breathing in a deep, even rhythm.

But just as Reaver breathed a sigh of relief that she was asleep, she stiffened and gasped in alarm.

“My father,” she croaked. “I can feel him. He’s coming for us, Reaver. Satan’s coming.”

Six

Very little frightened Revenant.

But right now, standing in Satan’s living room, he was scared shitless and sweating bullets inside

his black leathers.

The Dark Lord’s rage was a force of nature that rocked the building, knocking over statues and

shattering pillars and putting deep cracks in the walls, the floor, the ceiling. And in Rev’s skull.

Revenant clutched his head in his hands as Satan’s roar of fury blasted his eardrums. Blood ran

from his ears, his nose, his mouth.

But he was far, far better off than the werewolf hanging from a hook in the middle of the room, his

body shredded and studded with nails, blood streaming from a gaping hole where his eye used to be.

“Someone stole her,” Satan snarled. “Someone took her right out from under my nose.” He roared

again. “
How?
” He grabbed the werewolf by the throat. “You helped. Tell me who took my daughter

from me or I’ll carve out your other eye and eat it while it’s still warm.”

The guy admitted to being an assassin, which meant he likely couldn’t talk about who hired him

even if he wanted to. The assassin’s oath was binding on a magical level, and while the spell could be

broken, doing so would take time, and it would kill the assassin. And Revenant had a feeling Satan

wanted to kill this guy with his bare hands. Or, as he was sporting right now, claws.

The male groaned, his blood-streaked face a mask of agony. Then he screamed when the king of all

demons drove one long, sharp claw through his pupil.

“I want her back.” The black veins under Satan’s skin visibly pulsed with the force of his anger. “I

want my beloved Harvester back where she belongs. On a skinning block, writhing in blood-soaked

misery.”

Beloved? Skinning block? Satan had a strange way of showing affection. Revenant really wished the

demon would stop sometimes referring to him as “my son,” which, as far as he knew, wasn’t true.

Please let it not be true
.

Satan popped the werewolf’s eyeball into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. After a moment he

wheeled around to Revenant, and Rev’s bowels turned to water.

“You said Metatron and Raphael paid a visit to the Horsemen. Did they discuss rescuing

Harvester?”

“No, my lord. Not that I heard.” The bastards had rendered him immobile, deaf, and blind. When

he’d come to, all of the angels were gone, including Reaver and Lorelia. “I don’t think the Horsemen

even know of her status as a plant for Heaven.” They’d been as confused—and pissed—as Revenant

when they’d gained consciousness.

Satan snarled, his mood going suddenly sour. “I want Harvester and the heads of those responsible

for stealing her. And I swear by all that’s unholy that if angels are involved, I’ll devastate Heaven.

Once that angel-infested realm is nothing but smoldering ash and there’s no one to save the weakling

humans, I’ll turn my legions loose on the earthly realm.”

Revenant nodded with as much eagerness as he could muster. He hated angels and thought humans

were an annoying infestation on an otherwise nice planet, but the idea of turning Heaven and Earth

into replicas of Sheoul didn’t sit well. He’d never been to Heaven, but he liked the Earth the way it

was. The colors were vibrant. The air was fresh, the sunlight pleasant on the skin. Best of all, it wasn’t

crawling with demons. Well, it was, but mostly, they remained hidden behind human masks.

But if Satan had his way, everything would change. He’d been wanting war for eons, and now he

might have his excuse. Even more important, he now had the means to carry through with his threat.

Lucifer’s birth would be the opening salvo that would strike the Heavenly realm like a magnitude

million-point-nine earthquake, weakening its very foundations and paving the way for a demon