Reaver

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 tightened his grip on her shoulder. The sensation of being trapped left her struggling to breathe normally.

“But why now?” she asked, her mind racing to make sense of this. “It’s been almost five thousand years. You didn’t get over me in that much time?” Not that she had a lot of room to talk, given that she’d carried a torch for Yenrieth for just as long.

“Time runs differently in Heaven. You know that. It feels like yesterday, not centuries.”

He had a point. But she wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “You didn’t want me to be rescued. You wanted me to rot in Satan’s torture chambers. How can you claim to want me if you didn’t care that I was going to suffer and die?”

“I did care,” he said fiercely. “But leaving you there was for the greater good.”

“Funny how the greater good doesn’t feel so good when you’re the one with the hot poker in your bowels.”

Raphael swallowed audibly, and she swore she saw genuine regret in his expression. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to suffer. But now that you’re here, I can make it up to you.”

“That’s very touching, but no.”

“No… what?” he prompted.

Was he being deliberately dense? “I won’t be your… whatever it is you want me for.”

Reaching out, he brushed a knuckle over her cheek, a gentle gesture that she might have fallen for when she was Verrine. Now she didn’t want his attention. Now she knew he could be as cruel as he was tender.

“Oh, I think you will,” Raphael drawled, and she broke out in gooseflesh as a sensation of impending doom sank into her gut. “See, I’m going to make you a deal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What kind of deal?”

“I promise to keep you safe from Satan. You’re vulnerable while you’re in the human realm. Come with me, and he won’t be able to touch you ever again. In addition, I won’t destroy Reaver for what he’s done.” Raphael smile was wolfish, a predator that had pinned the deer. “In exchange, you agree to be my consort.”

The asshole thought he had her, didn’t he? She returned his smile. “Tell you what. I keep myself safe, you don’t destroy Reaver, and I don’t become your consort. In exchange, I tell you where Gethel is.”

He laughed. “We know where she is. We nabbed the demon you hitched a ride with in the Harrowgate.” He took Harvester’s hand and squeezed as if he owned her. “So what’s it to be? A ceremony for Reaver’s execution, or a ceremony binding us together forever?”

A thought occurred to her, a terrible, ugly thought, and she drew in a ragged breath. “This isn’t about me, is it? This is about hurting Reaver. That’s why you wanted me to torture him.”

He smoothed his finger over her cheek, and her skin crawled. “You’re part right. I did want him to suffer, but this isn’t about him. It really is about you. As I said, I’ve wanted you for a long time.” His vile touch moved south, down her neck to her collarbone, where he slid his finger under the strap of her tank top. “But if it makes you feel any better, remember when I threatened to take away your memories of Yenrieth if you didn’t torture him?”

“Gee, no,” she gritted out. “Totally forgot.”

“You’ll have to stop with the sarcasm. I don’t like it,” he said, and yeah, she’d get right on that.

“What does any of this have to do with my memories?”

He shrugged. “I lied. I couldn’t have taken your memories,” he said, and a blast of betrayal and fury blindsided her. Was the truth so fucking hard for people? “The blood bond with Yenrieth saved you from the full memory wipe everyone else got. Nothing can change that. Not even an archangel.” That last part came out with so much bitterness she could practically taste it on her own tongue.

Harvester had spent five thousand years in hell with demons so evil that even Satan contained them. And yet, Raphael, an angel of Heaven, was one of the biggest fiends she’d ever known.

And in order to save Reaver, she was going to be forced to spend the rest of eternity with the fiend.

For a split second, the length of half a heartbeat, her inner evil rose up and considered turning Raphael down. But she squashed the thought immediately. As jumbled as her feelings were about Reaver right now, she was one hundred percent certain that she couldn’t see him die.

“You sick, twisted bastard,” she rasped. “I hate you. No matter how long we’re together, I will despise every breath you take.”

He grinned. “Then a mating ceremony, it is.”

Twenty-Five

Reaver woke in the triage tent in Underworld General’s parking lot. Eidolon hovered next to the bed, Ares, Thanatos, and Reseph flanking him.

“Behold,” Eidolon said. “The angel awakens.”

“I’m guessing I owe you my life.” Owing a demon anything was never ideal, but Reaver knew Eidolon well enough to know the doctor would never abuse leverage. Reaver tried to sit, but heavy straps held him down. “And why am I restrained?”

“Because it took five Sems, including me, to remove the aurial without killing you.” Eidolon flipped the releases on the restraints. “You didn’t handle it well.”

No, a demon channeling power into him while he was unconscious would trigger an angelic instinct to fight. He was lucky his body had accepted Seminus healing energy in the first place. Most angels couldn’t be healed by demons. “Where’s Harvester? What happened?”

“She sent for us to bring you here,” Reseph said. “You almost died.”

Thanatos moved closer to the bed, his accusing gaze cutting deep. “Why did you go to Sheoul to save her? Lorelia and Revenant claimed she was a spy.” He clenched his fists at his sides, as if wishing Harvester’s neck was between them. “But that’s bullshit. She plotted with Pestilence to start the Apocalypse and murder my son.”

Reseph turned a little green at the mention of Pestilence, while Ares folded his arms across his chest, watching with assessing eyes. Of all the Horsemen, he was the one who could be the most level-headed and would likely approve of everything Harvester did over the centuries for the sake of victory. But he was also the one who would be the least understanding of what Reaver had done, because Reaver had done it out of emotion, not logic.

The bed creaked as Reaver sat up, and oh, look at that. He was naked. He snatched a bed sheet and covered his lap while Eidolon dug a set of scrubs from out of a cabinet.

“Harvester didn’t plot to do any of that,” Reaver said. “Your Watchers are right. She volunteered to fall from Heaven in order to watch over all of you.”

“The hell she did.” Thanatos’s anger was accompanied by a whoosh of souls escaping his armor to writhe at his feet. Their desire to kill in order to be free of his armor forever had them stretching the limits of their invisible tethers.

Eidolon tossed Reaver the blue scrubs before turning to Than. “Put the souls away, Horseman.”

Normally, Thanatos wouldn’t be cowed by any demon, but Eidolon had proved himself time and time again, and he’d delivered Than’s son. The scorpion tattoo on his neck writhed, its tail stabbing at his jugular a few times