“Than!” Limos dropped her own armor and jammed her hands on her sundress-draped hips. “You were the one who held on the longest, insisting that Reseph wasn’t responsible for Pestilence’s actions.”
“That was before Pestilence tried to kill my wife and son.” Nothing Than said was unfair, nor was it unexpected. In many ways, being Death fit him, because while Than tended to hang onto loyalty for a long time, when he was finally done with someone, he was
“I’m sorry.” Reseph looked out over the olive groves, remembering how much he’d hated how quiet they were. Now he’d give anything to walk among the gnarled trees with Jillian, the only person who had ever given him a moment’s peace. “I know it doesn’t help. I was there, inside this body, but I wasn’t strong enough to defeat Pestilence. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I know you tried.” Limos dragged her big toe through the sand. “You came through sometimes. Pestilence played it off like he’d been tricking me, but he wasn’t, was he? It was you.”
“Yeah,” he croaked. Man, he’d tried. He’d begged his sister to kill him, had even told her where to find Deliverance. And when Thanatos had driven the blade through his heart, he’d thanked his brother.
Ares came forward. “We know it wasn’t you, bro. But Pestilence fucked with us hard. I don’t need to tell you that. And Reaver and Harvester both told us he could come back.”
Reseph’s head snapped up. He remembered Harvester saying something about that, but he’d been so out of his mind that it hadn’t truly registered. “How? My Seal—”
“It’s whole. It won’t break again. Not until the biblical Apocalypse. Which, by the way, is supposed to be ushered in by our father. We discovered evidence that suggests he’ll be the one to break our Seals next time.”
Whoa. Okay, he hadn’t seen that one coming. He’d have to ask more about that later. Right now he was more concerned about his demon half.
“So how could Pestilence come back? You drove Deliverance through his heart.”
Thanatos shook his head. “Deliverance wasn’t the right blade to kill Pestilence. We needed Wormwood.”
Wormwood… Reseph cursed. How could he have forgotten? Pestilence had been desperate to get his hands on that blade, had gone through Aegis headquarters like a blender, killing, torturing, but he’d left empty- handed.
“I—Pestilence—eventually got it from Gethel. She tricked The Aegis into giving it to her. Pestilence knew it was the only blade that could kill him.”
Than nodded. “Deliverance imprisoned Pestilence, but he’s still part of you. He might have been banished, but the barrier is weaker than before. Reaver said it’s like gluing a ceramic vase back together. The vase may still hold water, but it’ll never be as strong as it was, and it could leak. Your container is cracked, and Pestilence can seep through.” Thanatos scrubbed his hand over his face. “It gets worse. While you were pulping yourself on the bedroom walls, the rest of us did some recon in Sheoul. Lucifer, Gethel, Lilith, and about a dozen other bigshots are planning to do whatever it takes to bring Pestilence back, including hurting our families. And according to Arik and Kynan, Gethel has been working with The Aegis on some super anti-Horseman weapon or some shit. We think the sudden disappearance of hundreds of hellhounds might have something to do with it.”
Fuck, this was bad. “Reaver should have left me in Sheoul. He should have left me to suffer.”
Closing his eyes, he sought out the memories that tortured him. It wasn’t right that he wasn’t suffering. Oh, he was miserable, knowing his relationship with his brothers and sister and their families was likely damaged beyond repair, and he was sick at the knowledge of what he’d done to the world and its inhabitants.
But for some reason, the memories felt distant, fuzzy, like he was watching a film instead of being an active participant in them.
Peeling his lids open, he turned to Limos. “Where’s Jillian?”
“She was unconscious after the mind-meld thingie. I took her home and put her in bed. I left a book of our history and our phone numbers on the bedside table in case she ever needs anything.”
“She was unconscious? Is she okay? I have to go to her.”
“Reseph, wait—”
He didn’t listen. All he could think about was Jillian.
Jillian woke up with a scream, heart racing, skin damp with sweat. Demons. She’d been surrounded by demons. Reseph, his eyes glowing, was laughing as claws dug into her flesh.
“Jillian!”
She screamed again as Reseph, fully armored and impossibly huge, burst into her bedroom, a sword in his gauntleted fist. He skidded to a stop short of the bed, but she scrambled backward on the mattress until her spine hit the headboard.
“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s me. Reseph. Not… Pestilence.” The sword in his hand disappeared, but it hardly mattered; he himself was a weapon.
She had no idea what to say or do. So much had happened in the last few hours and so many conflicting emotions were coursing through her body. The one thing she was certain of was that Reseph was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and in full, shiny armor, he was like a knight from a fairy tale.
Or, as Pestilence, he was the fable’s monster.
Reseph inched toward her. “I was worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” She came to her feet on the side of the bed opposite Reseph. She needed a barrier between them, even if it was something as ineffective as a mattress.
Reseph didn’t take those ancient, knowing eyes off her. “You shouldn’t have done what you did. Especially after I told you the truth about your attack.”
Irrational anger sparked at his utter lack of gratitude. “That’s one hell of a way to thank me.”
“Dammit, Jillian.” His deep voice went even deeper. “I should have had a say in it. You took the choice away from me.”
“Because you would have chosen to suffer,” she shot back. “That’s stupid. And selfish.”
“How is that selfish?”
Reseph tracked her as she paced the length of the bed, doing her best to gather her jumbled thoughts. Three men existed in that magnificent body: Pestilence, the Reseph she’d fallen for, and the Reseph who was a complete stranger. At this point, she didn’t know any of them.
“It’s selfish because everyone who loves you was suffering with you. Not to mention the fact that it was leaving the door open for Pestilence.”
A guttural word fell from Reseph’s lips. She didn’t know the language, but she understood the sentiment. “I still don’t like it. We’re linked forever now. You know that, right?”
“Of course I know that.”
“You knew, and you still chained yourself to me in some mysterious goddamned bond?” He cursed, and this time she understood the word very well. “Talk about being tied down.”
She wheeled around so fast she banged her knee on the bedframe. “Ouch! Son of a bitch.” Pain fueled the anger and hurt building in her chest. She was dealing with the stranger Reseph, wasn’t she? “
Maybe his siblings had been spot-on in their warnings about Reseph. What a fool she’d been.
Reseph had started toward her when she hit her knee, but now he stopped dead. “What?”
“Oh, no one told you the terms of the deal?” She strode up to him and poked him in the chest. Not that he probably felt it through the armor. “Yeah, that’s right. Sex. Once a year. If it doesn’t happen, I lose my mind and die, and you go back to being a drooling head case.”
“No,” he rasped. “Oh, no.” The sheer horror in his expression was like a bullet between the eyes. Not only did the man she’d loved not want to be tied to her, but he didn’t even want to have sex with her once a fucking year.
“You… you’ll screw demons… things with hooves and horns and tails, but the thought of being with me is repulsive to you?” She shoved at his breastplate with as much strength as she could muster. He didn’t budge an inch. “You
“It’s not that. God, Jillian, it’s not that.” He wrapped his hand around hers the way he had so many times,
