Rogue Rider

Sighing, she looked down at Reseph. His eyes were liquid, and on her back, his hands quivered. Alarm rang through her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Everything’s right. So right.”

“Because of your family? Because they’re welcoming you back?”

“Yeah.” Caging her in his strong arms, he rolled her onto her back, his muscled weight a welcome indulgence. The chill of the ice barely registered as he settled himself between her legs. “And because of you. A few days ago I had nothing but revenge to keep my heart beating. Now I have my family back, and I have you.” He paused. “I do have you, right?”

“Oh, yes.” She trailed her fingers over his jaw, loving the way he rubbed against them. “I said I wanted the Reseph I found in the snowbank, and here you are.”

“But I’m not exactly him,” he said, an emotional warble in his voice revealing his fear. “So much has happened since then—”

“Shh.” She silenced him with a finger against his lips. “Yes, so much has happened. You learned you were strong enough to keep Pestilence at bay, and I learned that the man I love is willing to fight demons for me. You have me.” She gave him a sultry smile and slid her hand between their bodies to palm his erection. “And you can have me anytime.”

“God, I love you,” he groaned. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, cradled against his chest, and he was opening a Harrowgate. “First, we’re stopping at Ares’s place for a hot shower and clothes. Then I’m taking you to the most luxurious hotel in the Bahamas.”

“Sounds decadent.” Even as exhausted as she was, she could imagine all the ways they could enjoy each other. In both places.

He hugged her tight. “This is just the beginning for us, and I can’t wait to get started.”

Neither could she.

Forty-three

Reaver didn’t bother to ask permission to enter Archangel Hall. He strode inside with an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and a smug expression to match.

Maybe at some point in his life he’d been in awe of the giant gold columns that pierced the endless azure sky and of the crystal rivers that wound through lush grass that went on forever. But not now.

Now he just wanted answers.

An angel dressed in some sort of obnoxious crimson medieval garb came from out of nowhere and blocked Reaver’s path. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I’m Reaver. I need to see an archangel.”

The male smiled. “Then go through the proper channels with your request.”

“It’s not a request, and I can’t wait years for this.”

Crimson Angel Guy narrowed his eyes. “Go away—”

“Hold.” A tall black-haired male materialized like something out of a Star Trek transporter, all gold and silver sparkles. His Greek-style robe was cinched at the waist with a simple brown rope, and his leather boots were nothing to write home about, but somehow this angel exuded power and royalty. His raven wings, shot through with gold, were probably the envy of everyone he came into contact with.

Reaver included.

The newcomer, definitely an archangel, waved his hand, and the angel in the crimson getup flashed away in a huff.

“Well, well,” the archangel said. “Reaver. Still not one for following rules, I see.”

“Since you seem to know so much about me, how about some reciprocation?”

The male’s smile was cold. “Raphael. Now, why are you here?”

Straight to it, then. Good, because Reaver wasn’t in the mood to mess around. “I want to know why my memory was taken.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Alrighty then. “I know who I am,” Reaver ground out. “I know my given name is Yenrieth, so I might as well have my memories back.”

The chilly smile fell off Raphael’s face. “That is… unexpected.” He wheeled away, only to pace in a wide circle before stopping in front of Reaver again. “But it makes no difference. You don’t get your memory back.”

“Damn you—”

Reaver didn’t get to finish his sentence. Pain like a million lightning bolts crackling through him sent him crumpling to the ground, blinded and groaning like a green soldier who’d taken his first wound. When he could see again… felt like a year later… Raphael was looking down at him, his silver eyes flashing like blades.

“You do not speak like that to me, nor do you question my decisions.”

By some miracle, Reaver didn’t groan again as he staggered to his feet. “So memory loss it is.” His head throbbed like he’d been clobbered by his own halo. “Maybe you can tell me why my daughter and sons have a new evil Watcher. Do you know what rule Harvester broke?”

For a long time, Raphael merely stared, his expression blank. Just as Reaver’s archangel-acute migraine started to ease, Raphael said, “She didn’t break any rules. She was taken for espionage. For helping the wrong side.”

“Helping the wrong side? You mean us?” Raphael had to be mistaken. “How?”

“By manipulating events.”

Now it was Reaver’s turn to stare. “I don’t… I don’t understand. She’s the one who wrote the note that The Aegis found… the one that Pestilence believed would break Than’s Seal.”

The archangel inclined his head in a slight nod. “She did it knowing sex wouldn’t break Than’s Seal. She did it so a child would be conceived. A child who could end the Apocalypse if all went well, and she had faith that the Horsemen would figure out how to stop Pestilence.”

Reaver’s head spun, which didn’t help the throbbing. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she was a spy.”

“A… spy?” Reaver asked, incredulous. “For how long?”

“Since the beginning.” Raphael said it so easily, as if everyone should have been aware of this information. “We fabricated a story about how she’d begun to kill humans for fun, leading to her fall, but in truth, she fell in order to infiltrate the highest orders in Sheoul and earn her way to become Watcher.”

“But why? Why would she give up so much to become a fallen angel?”

Raphael’s shake of his head and rolling eyes told Reaver what the archangel thought of Harvester’s reasons. “She’d been watching over your children since before they were Horsemen. She even saved Reseph from a fire that would have killed him. She loved them.”

This kept getting more and more unbelievable. “Where was I?” Reaver demanded. “Why wasn’t I watching over my children?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Raphael said, his tone making it clear that Reaver wasn’t going to get any answers about his past. “What matters is that Harvester was a spy, and she’s done the world a great service.”

Reaver threw his hand out to catch himself on a pillar before he fell over. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t someone tell me about her?”

“We couldn’t risk anyone knowing. Any slip could have been dangerous.” Raphael’s expression became clouded with anger, and a menacing growl rose up in his chest. “Look what happened with Gethel.”

The time he’d caught Gethel working Harvester over with treclan spikes came back to him, and his breath hitched. “Gethel tortured Harvester. She suspected, didn’t she?”

“Most likely,” Raphael said. “I’m almost certain it was Gethel who ratted Harvester out to the forces of Sheoul.”

Ah, damn. Harvester had tried to warn Reaver, had said that Gethel wasn’t right. She didn’t mean that Gethel was wrong. She’d meant that Gethel was mental, and maybe playing for the wrong side, if she was torturing Harvester for proof that Harvester was a good guy.