Revenant’s gaze turned inward. “My mother used to speak of the essence of death. I have no idea what she was talking about, but she claimed that the essence of death was also an elixir of life for those who can’t die.”
Blaspheme blinked. “That makes no sense.”
“Try hearing that as a five-year-old boy,” he said dryly.
Her cell phone rang, and as Revenant went through the mess of paperwork on the table, she grabbed it, somehow not surprised that Eidolon was on the other end of the line. “What the fuck is going on in the cafeteria? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, doing her best to stay calm… to keep him calm. “Revenant is level. But please, E, keep everyone away.”
“I can’t do that, Blaspheme.”
“You have to.” She gripped the phone so hard she expected the screen to shatter. “He knows the truth about me, and he’s cool with it. But let’s not antagonize the situation. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“You have ten.” The line went dead.
Revenant didn’t ask about the call. He stared at the notes for several minutes, and then he flipped through the book, studying several pages before groaning.
“What?” She peered at the pages, but she saw only the same meaningless script she’d been poring over all day. “What is it?”
“The blood of a legend is the same as the essence of death. You need the blood of Death. Thanatos. Or tears of the hungry, or of Famine.”
Realization dawned. “Limos. So I need Thanatos’s blood or Limos’s tears?”
Revenant’s glossy ebony hair swept over his shoulders as he shook his head. “Forget Limos’s tears. You want Thanatos’s blood. Trust me, the last thing anyone wants to do is make Limos cry. Her brothers and mate are psychotically protective.” He lowered his voice to a husky murmur. “Not that I don’t get that.”
Warmth spiraled through her at the possessive tone and at the memories of how protective he’d been over the last few days, battling an angel who tried to kill her, threatening Shakvhan, caring for her after her meltdown. Looking at him, all dark and covered in leather and weapons, no one would guess that he could be as gentle as he was lethal.
“I’ll ask Reaver to get the blood,” she said. “Maybe if I talk to him, explain all of this —”
“Fuck, no,” Revenant broke in. “You can’t trust anyone, Blaspheme. He’s an angel, and they’re more single-minded when it comes to killing vyrm than fallen angels are.”
How well she knew that. “But he’s Reaver. I know him. He wouldn’t kill me.” She hoped.
“Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes,” he said, “you do. I’m going to get the blood for you.”
Blas exhaled on a sigh of relief and gratitude, but it was cut short as a potential problem popped into her head. “Wait… surely a Watcher taking blood from a Horseman to use in a spell is forbidden.”
“Let me worry about that.”
Her gut twisted. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s against the rules.”
At the stony expression that fell over his face, she felt the blood drain from hers. Obeying rules wasn’t just a code for him; it was his life, tied irrevocably to his traumatic youth and his mother’s death. Blaspheme would never again put him in a position that might tempt him to break a rule, let alone ask him to willingly break one.
Except she was already doing that by asking him to not kill her.
“No.” She grabbed his arm, desperate to make him understand that he couldn’t do this. “I won’t let you. I’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way.” Very gently, he peeled her hand away and stepped back. “I’ll be back soon.”
“No!” But by the time her scream faded in the air, he was gone.
Twenty-Seven
Blaspheme blasted through the cafeteria exit and skidded into the clinic hallway, where dozens of people had gathered, including Eidolon and his brothers, Shade, Wraith, and Lore. Every one of them was geared up and poised for a fight, danger and fury radiating from them in scorching waves that stung her skin.
“He’s gone,” she said, but Shade, Wraith, and Lore shoved past her anyway.
Eidolon took her arm and pulled her aside. “What happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” She caught a glimpse of her mother jogging toward them, because yeah, this was just what she needed right now. “Eidolon,” she said hastily. “Can you contact Reaver? Revenant is going to do something stupid. I need to stop it. Fast.”
“I can try.”
“Send him to Thanatos’s place. Please hurry.” Eidolon took off, and she met her mother halfway down the hall. “We need to talk.”
Deva frowned. “What happened in there? I came to get that injection you texted about, but all hell was breaking loose —”
“It’s not important.” She gestured for her mother to duck into an empty exam room. Once inside, she closed the door. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”
Deva blinked with wide-eyed innocence. “Of course.”
Blaspheme snagged a paper cup from the dispenser on the wall and stuck it under the faucet. “You always said you fell from Heaven because you were helping an angel to locate an object that Heaven didn’t want to be found, and that The Destroyer killed my father before I was born. But all of that was a lie, wasn’t it? Please, Mom, I need the truth. It’s important.”