Reaver (33 page)

know the right map sequence, but no one but me can leave.”

Oh, wasn’t that just perfect. Now what? Reaver was unconscious and would be dead in minutes, and

Harvester’s injuries were too severe to get them much farther.

“You do know who the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are?” She pointed to Reaver. “That’s their

father. If you don’t go get them and he dies, I promise you’ll spend the rest of your miserable life

suffering in ways you can’t even imagine. When they finally let you die, it’ll be Thanatos who

slaughters you, and then you’ll spend eternity in the hell of his armor.”

The guy’s mouth snapped shut, and after a mere second of hesitation, he disappeared through the

Harrowgate.

Practically collapsing with relief, she settled down in the grass next to Reaver and listened to his

shallow, rattling breaths, wishing she hadn’t spent all her power. If she could channel some healing

energy into him, maybe she could remove the sword. Right now, the thing was draining his life, but

pulling it free could do even more damage. An
aurial
didn’t allow for healing around the site of the

wound, and a bleed-out from one could kill.

“Don’t you die on me, you bastard.” Her voice was shot to hell, thick with emotion that would piss

her off if she wasn’t so terrified. “I haven’t had enough time to make you pay for disappearing for

thousands of years.”

Reaver didn’t even groan. His heartbeat began to fade, and hers went ballistic.

“Don’t do it,” she cried. “Do
not
die.” She shook him, hating him for putting her through this. “You

son of a bitch! You can’t come back into my life and make me feel something and then go away again.

Don’t do this!” She choked on a sob. “Please.”

A low-level buzz filled the air, and an instant later Thanatos and Reseph, fully armored, burst

through the gate. Hatred so fierce Harvester felt it as a wave of stinging heat billowed off Thanatos.

He glared, and all around him, the inky, shadowy souls of those he’d killed began to circle at his feet.

“What happened?” he barked as he sank down next to Reaver.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she swore, hoping he didn’t strike her down right then and there. “But we

need to get him to UG first.”

With tenderness few would expect from the Horseman known as Death, Than scooped up Reaver

and cast his own Harrowgate.

Harvester stood, her heart clenching at the sight of Reaver lying limp and pale in Than’s arms.

“You’re going to leave me here?”

“That’s up to Reseph.” Than stepped through the gate, leaving her alone with Reseph for the first

time since she’d healed his mind by linking it with his mate, a human named Jillian.

And how weird was it that after all the months of torture she’d endured as a guest in Satan’s palace,

it was the memory of what Pestilence had done to her that wrapped around her like barbed wire and

rendered her nearly unable to stand her ground in front of him.

She actually reached for her power before remembering she was tapped out. Defenseless.

“Take me with you.” She swallowed, but it did nothing to ease the sudden dryness in her mouth.

“Please. Reaver went through hell to save me. It’ll all make sense when he’s better.”

Reseph, who had never taken anything seriously prior to his Seal breaking, looked down at her, his

expression eerily blank. “
If
he gets better.”

“He will,” she insisted. “Reaver is too damned stubborn to die.”
Please be too stubborn
.

“Our Watchers said you were working for Heaven. Is that true?” Reseph’s blue eyes, so like his

father’s, were haunted, and she wondered how much of his evil past as Pestilence still had a hold on

him.

She understood that more than she’d like to.

“Yes,” she said. “From the beginning.”

“So all the shit you helped Pestilence with? That was all bullshit?”

“Not all of it,” she admitted. “I had to help further his cause sometimes. I couldn’t let him get

suspicious.”

Reseph closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, and she knew he was on the fence. As Pestilence, he’d

hurt her, and his guilt still ate at him. She hadn’t crossed over into the realm of good so firmly that she

felt shame for exploiting his guilt.

“Please,” she repeated. “I’m… begging you. I need to make sure Reaver’s okay.”

“If you’re lying… if you hurt him—”

“I’m not, and I won’t.” She held her breath, waiting for his answer with as much patience as she

could muster. Reaver could be dying while he waffled.

He lifted his lids and resolve gleamed in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“
Wait!
” The booming voice shook the ground, and even the air around them vibrated.

In a fluid spin, Reseph produced a sword and put himself between Harvester and Raphael. Gods, he

must hate her, and yet, his instinct was to protect her.

So like his father.

Raphael stood imperiously before them, a rich, velvety purple robe draping his body. Silver wings

that matched the robe’s fur lining rose skyward in an elegant arc.

Reseph didn’t sheathe his blade, a blatant insult to any archangel.

Raphael’s lips peeled back in a vicious smile. “I still find it hard to believe that you, of all the

Horsemen, had the balls to defeat your demon half.”

“I still find it hard to believe they let douchebags be archangels,” Reseph said in a bring-it-on

drawl. “Guess we’re even.”

At the furious spike of Raphael’s brows, Harvester leaped between Reseph and the archangel.

“Go, Reseph,” she said calmly, even though her heart was beating so fast she thought it might break

out of her rib cage. “Take care of Reaver.”

“Still trying to protect Yenrieth’s children, I see,” Raphael murmured. “You’re not their Watcher

anymore.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” she said sourly. “But my oath to watch over them came long before I

was officially appointed as a Watcher. My pledge still holds.”

Raphael’s voice was mocking. “Does it.”

Reseph hadn’t moved, so Harvester reached behind her and gave him a light shove. “Please. Go.”

“I’ll give Reaver your best,” Reseph said to Raphael. “Your concern for him is just so…

overwhelming.” Reseph opened a gate and stepped through, but not before shooting Raphael a fuck-

you gesture with both hands.

“How did you put up with them for so long?” Raphael stared at the empty space where Reseph had

disappeared into. “They’re horrible.”

She forced a smile when inside she really wanted to punch the angel. The Horsemen might not be

the most pleasant of people, but they were what they were because of Raphael and his brethren. And

truly, considering their pasts and everything they’d endured, she figured they’d turned out pretty

damned well.

“They’re horrible only if you’re on their bad side.” She’d seen what happened to those who pissed

off the Horsemen.
Horrible
didn’t cover it. She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing at the aches

and pains all over her body. “If you’re here to apologize for the assassins you sent after us, you’re

wasting your time.”

Raphael snapped his fingers, and all her wounds healed. Power sang through her, bright and vibrant.

Even her fallen angel wings had grown back, and she spread them wide, nearly weeping at the

sensation of feeling whole again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t even make a token effort to sound convincing.

“You underestimated me and Reaver. You always have.”

A low, dangerous growl erupted from Raphael’s broad chest. “And you,” he spat out, “have always

over
estimated him in every way. Yenrieth was never good enough for you. As Reaver he’s no better.”

She clenched her teeth before she said something really stupid. Like,
Neither are you
. Or worse,

Reaver is better than any of you
.

“Do you know how much trouble he’s caused?” Raphael asked. “According to our intel, Satan

knows he was behind your rescue, and his armies are amassing at Sheoulic exit points all over the

world in preparation to invade Heaven when Lucifer is born. We don’t have much time to prepare.”

They had even less time than he thought. “The game changed while Reaver and I were in Sheoul.

Lucifer could be born in just a few days.”

The blood drained from his face. “Are you sure?” At her nod, he snarled. Overhead, storm clouds

brewed from out of nowhere. “Perfect. And do you know what will make it easier for him…
in a few

days
? There are weak spots in the Heavenly fabric, and for the first time in history, demons invaded

Heaven.”

She gasped. Demons? In
Heaven
?

“And did you know it’s your fault? Yours and Reaver’s?” Thunder rumbled in the sky above, and

Raphael snapped his fingers, putting a big bubble of a rain shield over them.

“Bullshit.” She wasn’t ready to take anything Raphael said at face value.

“You fed from him. Twice. Both times opened small portals that allowed demons to wander

through.”

“There’s no way you could know that,” she croaked out.

“We know because you two share a blood bond.”

Oh, God. They shouldn’t know that, either.
Bluff
. “Even if you’re right, feeding wouldn’t cause

that.”

“It would if you’re fallen and Reaver is—” He snapped his mouth shut so fast she heard his teeth

crack.

She narrowed her gaze. “Reaver is… what?” When he waved away her question, she gave up trying

to be civil. “Dammit, why are you here? If you’re going to kill me, do it already. And have the balls to

do it yourself instead of hiding behind fucking darkmen.”

“Your time in Sheoul has wreaked havoc on your vocabulary.” Raphael stepped closer, a mountain

of Heavenly menace. “You know why we had to send the darkmen. I didn’t want to, but you survived,

you’re here now, and it’s over.”

He pressed forward, stalking her like a tiger, his gaze hungry and ruthless, and an alarm started

clanging in her head. But before she could so much as
think
about flashing out of there, he was on her,

backing her against the lone tree on the hilltop.

“What are you doing?” The quaver in her voice more than gave away her anxiety. She’d escaped

one enemy just to land on the doorstep of another. She’d gone from the frying pan into the fire. From

the claws of a Soulshredder into the jaws of a Gargantua.

She was racking up the clichés for trouble.

One hand slammed into the tree above her head, and the other gripped her shoulder in a bruising

hold. Even at full strength, with all the power inherent to a fallen angel of her rank and genetics, she

couldn’t escape him.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago.” The archangel’s eyes flamed hot. There was

no warning, no slow buildup. He slanted his mouth over hers.

Startled, Harvester went taut as Raphael pressed his big body against hers and savaged her mouth in

a demanding, brutal kiss. Under normal circumstances, her response would be swift and lusty. But

these weren’t normal circumstances by any means.

And Raphael was no Reaver.

Wedging her hands between them, she palmed his chest and shoved, breaking the kiss. “Don’t do

this.”

“I
am
doing this. I’m claiming you.” He was so arrogant, so sure she’d fall under his spell.

She shoved him again, but he didn’t budge. “No one
claims
me.”

Except that wasn’t entirely true, was it? When she and Reaver had been in the Boregate, what he’d

done to her had felt like a possession, and God help her, she thought maybe that was okay.

“You’re mine, Verrine.” Raphael’s voice throbbed with authority, the kind that made even high-

ranking angels cower before him. “You should have been mine thousands of years ago, but you gave

everything up for that loser Yenrieth.”

She inhaled sharply, a vicious stab of realization piercing her gut. “That’s why you didn’t want me

to fall, isn’t it,” she said hoarsely. “It had nothing to do with the fact that you thought it was a crazy

idea. You didn’t want me to go because you wanted me for yourself.”

How could she have been so blind? Raphael had been a rakish novice archangel at the time she and

Yenrieth were in their training, and he’d made himself available to keep her company when Yenrieth

was off either hunting minor demons or looking for a female with a warm bed.

“
He’ll never be faithful to you
,” Raphael had said. “
It’s not in his nature. Battle angels were bred to

fight and breed more warriors. They’re soldiers. Dumb muscle. You need someone with brains,

someone who can stand by your side for life and never look at another female.
”

Like an idiot, she’d been too naive to recognize Raphael’s attempts to lure her into his own bed.

“Yes,” Raphael said. “I wanted you.” His smile was very cat-and-mouse, and she was the mouse.

“And now I have you.”

“You don’t have me.” She tried to slip out from under him, but he blocked her with his body and