Reaver (Lords of Deliverance 5)

The archangels had sent assassins.

Sixteen

The Horsemen were at it again. Their tropical parties were legendary, even among legends, and once again, they were preparing to put the female Horseman’s beach hideaway to use as a pig-roasting, margarita-guzzling, volleyball-playing bash.

Clearly, with the Daemonica’s apocalyptic prophecy averted, the Horsemen had nothing better to do.

Revenant changed his hair from short to long, from brown to dirty blond as he strode toward them, his boots kicking up the warm sand as he walked. He f**king hated sand. And naturally, two of the four Horsemen lived in Sand Central. Limos and her mate, Arik, liked the tropical Hawaiian shit, and Ares and Cara made their home on a private Greek island. Most people would consider their homes to be paradises.

Most people were morons.

But hey, Revenant wasn’t elitist when it came to classifying morons. Morons existed in all races, from humans to angels to demons. He might have to hang with demons because he was a fallen angel, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see their faults. Evil was more interesting than good, but truly, most evil beings were dumber than fence posts.

He slowed as he got closer, an irritating tingle on the back of his neck alerting him to the arrival of the female angel who appeared in front of Limos.

The moment the Horsemen saw him, they swiped their fingers over their armor symbols on their throats and went from beach attire to suits of armor in a split second.

“ ’Sup, Horseboys and Horsegirls?”

“Revenant.” Lorelia curled her lip in disgust. “You always have the worst timing.”

“You both have terrible timing.” Thanatos folded his arms over his bone-armor breastplate. “What are you doing here? Has Gethel been found?”

“You know I can’t discuss Gethel.” Revenant loved annoying all these assholes. “I’m here to deliver some other news. But I’ll let my Heavenly counterpart go first.” He grinned. “Ladies and pure goodness first. I’m polite that way.”

“You don’t know what polite is, Fallen,” Lorelia said, all snooty-like.

“That was rude,” Revenant said, doing his best I’m-so-hurt impression. No one bought it.

Lorelia huffed. “Have any of you seen Reaver lately?”

Limos, looking like a slightly pregnant armadillo in her samurai armor, narrowed her violet eyes. “Why?”

Revenant was curious about that as well.

“Because I asked,” Lorelia snapped. “Have you seen him?”

Everyone clammed up tight. Stupid angel. Had she not figured out that these hard-headed horseshits didn’t do demands well? He’d learned that you definitely caught more horseflies with honey than with blood.

In the uncomfortable silence, Revenant studied his nails. Then brushed a bit of dust off his leather coat. Then used his boot to scratch his name in the sand. It was fun to draw attention to the awkwardness.

Finally, Lorelia ground out, “My superiors want to know where Reaver is. It’s important.”

“We haven’t seen him in weeks.” Ares’s hard leather armor creaked as he ran his hand through his short reddish-brown hair. Known also as War, he tended to keep things simple and to the point. “No idea where he is. He does this sometimes.”

“Now, why are you asking?” Reseph, his beach-bum platinum hair gleaming in the sun, bounced a volleyball from hand to hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His carefree attitude was deceptive though; of all the Horsemen, he’d proven to be the most dangerous. The human world was still recovering from the hell he brought down on it as Pestilence.

Revenant had liked him better as Pestilence.

“None of your business,” Lorelia said icily. Revenant wondered if she’d noticed the huge-ass hellhound creeping up behind her. Ares rarely went anywhere without one of the f**king things.

“You’re the grumpiest Watcher ever,” Reseph said. “I thought Gethel was bad. And Harvester. And Revenant—”

“I get your point,” Lorelia interrupted. She shot him a look of disgust. “It must have been so much easier to deal with you when your mind was broken.” She turned to Revenant before she could see Reseph’s expression darken. Why was she antagonizing them like this? “Maybe you could share why you’re here?”

“Gladly.” He was so going to take advantage of being the good cop. Any opportunity to make a Heavenly puke look bad was worth jumping on, and Lorelia was making it easy. “The underworld is abuzz with the news that your ex-Watcher, Harvester, has been rescued from Satan’s favorite torture chamber.”

“So?” Thanatos, whose Horseman name was Death, stared at Revenant, his yellow eyes flashing with impatience.

“So…” Lorelia drawled, her tone contemplative, “if Reaver is missing, maybe he’s involved with Harvester’s escape.”

Limos scoffed. “Why would Reaver help that bitch? She tortured him, tried to start the Apocalypse, and helped Pestilence try to kill Thanatos’s son.”

“I’d like to know the answer to that, as well,” Lorelia said.

“Maybe he didn’t go to rescue her,” Reseph offered. “Maybe he went to kill her.”

Ah, so they didn’t know Harvester had allegedly been a spy for Heaven. Granted, it wasn’t common knowledge even in Sheoul; Revenant knew only because his Watcher Council had filled him in and Satan had, for some reason, included Rev in his inner circle. But Revenant would have thought Reaver would share the information with the Horsemen, given that Harvester’s machinations had helped them behind the scenes.

“Well?” Limos tapped her foot in the sand. “Are you going to tell us?”

He was tempted to reach out and strangle her, but that would ruin the good-cop thing he had going. Plus, she was pregnant, and while he didn’t give a shit about the brat, he had rules to follow, and the rules said he couldn’t strangle pregnant biblical legends or in any way harm said biblical legends’ children.

“Harvester is a traitor,” Rev said. “She was working for Heaven.”

All eyes went comically wide and fixed on him.

“Yup. True story. Heaven arranged her espionage plan before she fell.”

“Are you really saying,” Ares began in his deep, resonant voice, “that she infiltrated Sheoul in order to be a spy? She didn’t actually fall?”

“That’s what I’m saying. Apparently, everything she did was done to avert the Apocalypse and help you guys defeat Pestilence.” He shrugged. “She hasn’t admitted to it, even under severe torture, but it’s pretty obvious what happened.”

“But she was working with Pestilence,” Limos protested.

“She pretended to be working with him.” Revenant couldn’t hide his disgust. He’d always been more of a stab-you-in-your-chest kind of guy than a stab-you-in-the-back sort. He liked his enemies to know he was coming. “I don’t know the whole story, but Reaver learned the truth around the same time he learned he was your father.”

Lorelia let out an impressive snarl. “That stupid angel,” she spat out. “If he went after Harvester, then he’s the traitor. His foolish actions could start a war between the realms. We’re already dealing with what Lucifer’s birth could bring about if he’s born.”

If? Odd way to phrase that.

“You’re talking about our father.” Limos’s voice cracked like a whip. “So I’d be very careful what you say next.”

“Spoiled brat.” Lorelia’s dove-gray wings flared high. Girl was pissed. Although… there was something a little off about her anger. It was… overdone, and again he wondered what she was up to. “You do not speak to me in that way.”

Thanatos stepped closer to the Watcher. “She speaks in whatever way she wants to. Especially to angels with sticks up their holy asses.”

Oh, this was getting good. Revenant wished someone would make popcorn.

Lorelia roared in anger and struck out with a lash of power that lifted Thanatos off his feet and hurled him into the side of Limos’s party hut. Thanatos went through the wall like a cannonball.

“Bitch!” A sword appeared in Limos’s hand, and the yellow flower in her hair wilted.

Revenant contemplated extra butter on his popcorn as in a blur of motion, Limos went after Lorelia. The angel flashed out of the way and materialized behind her.

The next few seconds were a shock of thunderous booms and flashing light as Lorelia hit Limos with a blast of acid fire before following up with blows for Ares and Reseph when they tried to help their sister.

Revenant dove to the ground to avoid the aftershock of a particularly powerful downburst of Angel Storm. Shit, that bitch was out of control. Screw the popcorn; she’d have scorched the shit out of it.

Summoning his own power, he rolled to his feet, prepared to defend himself. But the scene he was faced with… unholy hell. He stood, stunned, as he took in the carnage. Lorelia, her arm bleeding from what looked like a bite from the dead hellhound a few feet away, crouched next to Limos, her palm hovering over the Horsewoman’s abdomen. She and her brothers had been… demolished. They’d heal in time, of course, but right now every one of them had been pulverized.

Revenant once told them he could blow them up inside their armor and pour them out like a liquid.

Lorelia had just done that.

Fury built in his chest. “Lorelia! We have rules.” He stalked her, the anger bubbling up and getting hotter with every step. “You can’t wreck the Horsemen just because they piss you off. You broke the rules.”

She came to her feet and didn’t meet his gaze as she tucked something into her pocket. Then, before he could grab her, she flashed away. But that didn’t mean she was getting away.

Rules meant order. Without order there was chaos, and unlike most Sheoul denizens, Revenant hated chaos.

So Lorelia was going to pay for what she’d done to the Horsemen. Not because he liked them, but because what she’d done to them was against the rules. And rules must be followed.

But so must orders, and after he found Lorelia and beat the truth of why she’d made toast of the Horsemen out of her, he had an appointment to make. An appointment he dreaded.

With Satan.

The emergency department was slammed.

Medical staff rushed to triage incoming patients, mostly innocent victims of Satan’s armies as they chewed a path through Sheoul. From what Eidolon could gather, the armies were both searching for “Satan’s renegade daughter” and preparing for a battle with Heaven. Refugees were fleeing Sheoul if they could, and if they couldn’t, they were holing up and trying to keep out of the path of the Dark Lord’s war machine.

Apparently, Satan’s troops didn’t differentiate between friend and enemy when they were on the move, and the ED was stretched beyond its limits with survivors. The hospital hadn’t been this packed since the apocalyptic events brought about by Pestilence. Even the parking lot was once again packed with the wounded.

Gem, his mate’s twin sister, jogged up to him with a clipboard, her black and blue hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head, exposing the enchanted tattoo around her neck that helped keep her from shifting from her human form to her demon one.

“Remember that wolf shifter you treated last week?” she asked. “And the month before that? She’s back. Broken leg. I think her mate might be responsible, but she won’t say much.”

The Justice demon in him clawed at his chest, battling with the doctor he’d become. The winner would be the doctor though; the patient’s injuries came first. The mate could be dealt with later. That was Wraith’s specialty.

“I’ll check her out.” Eidolon took the clipboard, but before he could glance at the patient’s paperwork, the emergency room’s Harrowgate flashed, and a mostly human male, Arik, burst out of it. His mate, Limos, was in his arms.

At least, Eidolon assumed it was Limos. The female looked like she’d gone through a paper shredder before being glued back together by a blind person.

“Help,” he croaked. “Help her.”

Eidolon shoved the clipboard at Gem. “Have Grim handle the shifter.” The Sem, one of Tavin’s brothers, hadn’t been here long, but the guy had a powerful healing ability, and Eidolon trusted him to be sensitive to abused females.

“You got it.” Gem took off as Eidolon sprang into action, ushering Arik to the closest open exam room.

Blaspheme joined them, holding Limos’s head as Eidolon helped Arik settle what was left of the Horseman onto a table. Gods, she was messed up. He’d been a doctor for decades and had never seen anything like this.

“What happened?” Eidolon let Blas perform the ABC’s—airway, breathing, and circulation—but the procedure was more protocol than necessary in this instance. Limos was immortal. Fucked up beyond recognition, but immortal.

“I don’t know.” Arik was trembling so hard his teeth chattered. “We were going to have a party. I got back to our place with a keg.” He inhaled a shaky, tormented breath. “I found her like this. Her brothers… they’re the same. I couldn’t… I couldn’t bring them all… fuck…”

Eidolon didn’t bother gloving up. He placed his hands on Limos’s torso and channeled his power into her. His dermoire glowed as his healing gift winged its way down his right arm. There was too much damage to focus on a single injury, so he spread the healing wave evenly through her body. In his mind’s eye, he could see internal organs plumping up, muscle fibers knitting together, and bones fusing.