“You are no longer Memitim, and he is no longer Primori,” the female said.
“I have to go to him.” She caught glimpses of him… no, not him… but of what he was seeing. Blood. Weapons. Detharu. “He’s at the den. I have to go. Send me there!”
“We can’t get you inside—”
“Then outside! Now!”
The raven-haired female shook her head. “You are human now, and no match for demons in Sheoul.”
“I don’t care! I remember how to fight. Just send me!”
Reaver gripped her shoulders and spoke to the Council. “I got this.” When Idess looked up at him, he grinned and waggled his brows. “Battle angel. Let’s go kick some demon ass.”
Twenty-six
They materialized in Sheoul, just outside a giant door that was guarded by two drooling Ramreels. The beasts didn’t even have time to draw their machetes before Reaver went Terminator on the demons. He didn’t fight them; he demolished them.
When they were nothing but steaming piles of quivering flesh on the ground, he brushed off his hands and pushed the door open. “I can’t enter without an executive order. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Reaver.”
With a nod, he was gone.
Idess’s bare feet slapped the floor of Deth’s den as she ran, the crimson robe flapping at her legs and ankles. Dread rumbled through her, plowing into the overwhelming fury and pain the link brought from Lore.
Oh, please no. Idess exploded through the doors… and skidded to a stop. Her heart slammed into her rib cage and remained there, plastered to the bone and not beating.
Lore was raging, was a bloody mess as he battled several demons. Sin was on the ground, struggling against the fierce hold of three Ramreels. Their bleeding wounds and the weapons scattered around Sin spoke of her valiant attempt to kill them before they’d taken her down.
Deth stood at his throne, snarling like a rabid dog. “You!” he hissed at her. “We had a deal!”
She swung, but her newly human body lacked the strength she was accustomed to, and Deth easily captured her. He yanked her against him, his hand jamming into her chest, and fire melted her robe and seared her skin. She screamed… and so did Lore. In her peripheral vision, she saw him lunge for Deth, only to be slammed to the floor by a Ramreel.
“Kill him!” Deth commanded, and as the link to Lore faded, the fresh bond on her chest flared with heat. “Kill Lore.” Deth’s voice was reedy with panic and fury. “Do it now!”
Killing wasn’t in the terms they’d negotiated at the Guild, but the need to comply tugged at Idess anyway. Against her will, her feet shuffled toward Lore.
No. Clenching her teeth, she battled Deth’s compulsion. Sweat popped out on her brow, and her nails dug deep into her palms. As she ground to a halt, her resistance to Deth’s command became an agonizing sting of nettles under her skin.
Sin’s curses and the harsh sounds of battle rang in her ears. Lore was fighting with everything he had, from a Ramreel’s machete, to his teeth. His eyes glowed crimson, embers of hate inside his skull.
“You bitch!” Deth screamed, as Lore took down one of the Ramreels and started after the assassin master. “I said kill him!”
Her bond became a white-hot brand that bored all the way to her spine. Woodenly, she retrieved a machete off the floor. The Ramreels had somehow pinned Lore’s killing arm beneath him. He was vulnerable.
Kill him!
Idess swung. The loss of her Memitim strength made the weapon seem heavier and her movements slower, but she took off the nearest demon’s head.
Freed, Lore launched at Deth, striking him full in the chest. The demon master flew into the wall, his armor buckling like a crushed tin can. The Ramreels came at Idess, mouths dripping foam.
Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a feather-light Memitim scythe right now. Heart pounding in her throat, she leaped and spun, swinging the heavy blade with practiced skill. The demons scattered, but she managed to slice one of them open across his abdomen. The other fell back with a severed hand.
She went for Deth, but Lore was already there, hacking at the larger demon, the wet thuds of metal striking flesh echoing through the chamber. The assassin master’s massive wounds didn’t stop him from slamming his gauntleted fist into Lore, who rocked backward with a pained hiss.
Idess whacked him with her blade, and he howled with fury and pain. She struck again. And again. The armless Ramreel barreled into her from behind, and she stumbled, momentarily taken off her game.
Her entire body screamed for vengeance. Spinning, she sliced him open as she had the other one. He hit the ground with a thud, hands futilely trying to hold his guts.
Idess gathered every last bit of strength and swung at Deth. Her machete tore through his chest.
Deth’s eyes shot wide with disbelief, and then clouded over with death as his body crumpled. Before he hit the ground, Lore’s blade cut through his neck in a grisly whisper. The demon’s head struck the floor a split second before his body.
Behind her, she heard another thud; Sin’s Ramreel had gone down. She stood over his body, naked and panting, a bloody blade in her hand.
An ungodly snarl cut through the silence. Slowly, afraid of what she’d see, Idess turned back to Lore. He loomed in the shadows, larger than life, blood running in rivulets down his leather jacket and pants, lava flows on basalt.
“Kill.” The word itself was chilling enough, but it was the way he said it, the feral tone of his voice, that turned Idess’s blood to slush.
Detharu’s death had done nothing to calm Lore’s rage. Fury contorted his expression, and his eyes were crimson lasers that targeted her for annihilation.
“Lore,” she whispered, her voice raw and aching. “Lore, it’s me.”
He came at her. Sin screamed at him, with no effect. He tackled Idess, coming down on top of her and shoving the tip of his blade into her throat.
“Lore!” Idess gripped his hand, using every ounce of strength she had to keep him from stabbing her. “It’s Idess.”
Sin ran toward them, and Lore’s head swiveled around. He hissed at her, tensing to attack.
“Sin! Stop!” Idess swallowed, wincing at the bite of metal in her neck. “Stay back.”
Sin obeyed, but her black eyes were wild with fear.
Idess tapped her foot against Lore’s leg, bringing his attention back to her. “Hey. Look at me. You can fight this.” Tenderly, she ran her foot up his calf in a soothing caress. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
The pressure on her throat let up, just a little. A warm trickle ran down her neck from the cut he’d made.
“Good,” she breathed. “That’s good. I love you, you know that, right?” Slowly, so she wouldn’t spook him, she cocked her knees up, creating a cradle for his body between her thighs. He was hard, as she expected—his rages had a sexual side effect and vice versa.
Lore’s nostrils flared, and a muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared at her. It might have been her imagination, but it seemed as though the insane glow in his eyes had dimmed. Then, a low growl erupted in his chest and his head wrenched back to his sister.
“Sin,” Idess said, keeping her voice mellow—soothe the savage beast and all that. “Leave. Please. Just… wait outside the door.”
“But—”
The violent snap of Lore’s teeth shut her up. Keeping her gaze on Lore, Sin backed out the door, closing it behind her. With Sin gone, Lore’s attention turned fully to Idess. His eyes had gone back to the intense burning coal color, but he’d let up even more on the blade.
“You won’t hurt me,” she repeated, and though she believed it, a small part of her cowered in terror. As a human now, she was vulnerable, and this might have been a really stupid thing to do. “You were so afraid you would, but I know better.” Praying she was doing the right thing, she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck even more. “Kiss me there. Put your mouth where the blade is.”
His gaze droppe
d to her throat, and he licked his lips with a startlingly sensual swipe of his tongue. Her senses wobbled a little, a completely inappropriate reaction given the circumstances, but that was how he affected her, and she wasn’t going to feel shame for it.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “Kiss me. Love me. Right here in this chamber, where your life has been hell. You can turn it all around.” She arched into him, and this time the noise he made was a tortured moan.
“Love me, Lore.”
The blade fell away, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered his head and dragged his lips from her collarbone to her jaw.
“Idess?” His voice was resonant and deep, totally foreign. “Idess? Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Lore.”
He blinked. “Am I dead?”
“No, but not for lack of trying.”
Suddenly, he gathered her in his arms and held her so tight she could barely breathe. “You’re real,” he choked out. “I can feel you. Inside and out.” He buried his face against her neck and rocked her. Wetness rolled down her skin, and she knew he was weeping.
Her big, strong demon was weeping for her. Shaken to the core, she joined him, and as her tears rolled down her cheeks, his emotions seeped into her, the bond they shared tying them together once again. The burn in her chest from Deth’s mark eased, becoming merely tender, and then it was gone altogether.
“How did this happen?” he asked finally, sitting back and covertly wiping his eyes. “Did you get your wings?”
“I passed. I got you instead. And mortality. Modified.”
He jerked as though he’d been stung. “You gave up being an angel? Idess, you need to go back!”
“Shh. I gave up punishing myself. It’s time for me to take what I want, and what I want is you.” She palmed his cheek, careful not to touch any of his wounds. “We’re bonded so that our lifespans are connected. We’ll be together in this life and the next one. And I can use the Harrowgates with you.” Something flitted past, and she frowned. “And apparently, I can still see ghosts.” There is a price. A duty, if you will.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Damn,” he breathed. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Of course it is. Unless you don’t?”
“Angel, now that you’re back, I’m never letting you go.”
There was an insistent pounding on the door, followed by Sin’s muffled shout. “Hey! Are you guys okay?”
Lore pushed to his feet as Sin burst through the door.
She still brandished a sword, but she’d found clothes, a coarse burlap robe made for someone twice her size. Stark relief put a glow on her face and a smile on her lips as she ran to Lore and wrapped him in a big embrace. “Thank God you’re okay.” She slid Idess a glance. “And that you didn’t kill my new boss.”
“Excuse me?” Idess came to her feet, hoping the new altitude would clear her ears.
“Ah, yeah…’” Lore crossed to Deth and wrenched a ring off his finger. “Whoever strikes the killing blow on an assassin master takes over. That’s why they maintain such high security.”
“But you’re the one who chopped his head off.”
“After you struck the death blow. What I did was for fun.” Lore shrugged. “His ring is yours. You also have to quarter his body and have the pieces sent to his four greatest enemies, and mount his head over the Guild entrance for ninety-two days.” He said it like normal people would say, “You also need to bring potato salad to the picnic.”
Suddenly, being human and normal—sort of—sounded really great. “So, if I take the job, can I just free all the assassins and be done with it?”
Sin glared at Deth with such malice that Idess figured he was lucky he was dead. “No. Their contracts are binding and must be fulfilled. If they break the terms, you can alter the contracts, but that’s it.”
“Can I give the job to you?”
“Seriously?” Sin’s dark eyes flared, and then narrowed. “Why don’t you want it? It’s a great gig.”
“I’m sort of human now.” She scanned all the dead bodies, the death and destruction. “And running an assassin organization isn’t exactly my dream job.”
Shrugging, Sin held out her hand. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Lore laughed and flipped the ring into the air at her. “That was easy.”
“I told you this was all I know,” she said, and a flicker of sadness crossed Lore’s face. “So I might as well be the boss.” She slipped the ring onto her index finger. “Hey, I know everything about everyone’s contracts!” Grinning, she looked at Idess. “Yours is fulfilled.”
“But he ordered me to kill Lore, and I didn’t do it.”
“Since I’m the new owner of the contract, I say that Deth’s demise counts toward the kill he ordered you to make.”
Happiness leaped through Idess, and she crushed Sin in a hug. Sin went stiff as a board, but she gave Idess an awkward pat on the back before shoving away and putting a few feet of distance between them, clearly uncomfortable with affection.
“Well, what now?” Idess asked Lore.
“Now,” he said, with a lustful stare, “we head home.”
His hunger slammed into her through the mate bond, intensifying her own until she was burning up on the inside. “My place or yours?” she breathed.
“Whatever’s closest,” he said roughly, and she was definitely on board with that suggestion.
Sin rolled her eyes. “Get outta here already.”
Lore grinned. “Couldn’t keep me here. If I never have to see this shithole again… well, you get the picture.” He sobered then, as if maybe what he’d said wasn’t true. With a jerky movement, he slipped his hand under his jacket and withdrew his Gargantua-bone dagger. “Sin, this is yours now.”
“But I gave that to you.”
“And no gift has ever meant more,” Lore said quietly. “But I don’t need it anymore. You do.”
“But—”
“Tell you what,” he said, cutting her off. “You can give it back to me once you’re free of this life.”
The fierce glint in Sin’s eyes said she’d never be free of it, something Lore had to have noticed, but his expression didn’t waver. He held the weapon out, and after a moment, Sin took it.
“Thank you.” Sin cleared her throat of the emotional hitch in it, and suddenly, she was the carefree, breezy assassin again. “You’re the best brother ever.”
“Speaking of brothers,” he said, in a very big-brother tone, “you need to see Eidolon right away.”
“So do I,” Idess said. “Now that I’m back, I can play full-time ghost exterminator after all.”
Lore laughed. “He wants me to play with his dead patients.”
“Are you going to?” Sin asked, and there was an underlying concern in her voice that Idess didn’t understand.
“Sin—”
“It’s okay.” She offered a shaky smile. “I want you to work there. Get to know them.” She slid the dagger into her belt with a firm shove. “Now, I have a business to run. See ya.”
Idess wrapped her arm around Lore’s waist, and melted into him when he tugged her close. “Will she be all right?”
“Yeah,” he breathed as Sin left the room. “She’s a survivor.”
Idess couldn’t help but wonder if that was truly enough. She’d been a survivor for two thousand years, but all that meant was that she’d existed. Now, as she hugged Lore to her, she knew that she was living.
Twenty-seven
Sin tapped on Eidolon’s office door, even though it was open. Scowling, he looked up from a stack of paperwork, but his severe expression softened when he saw her.
“Sin. Come in.”
She hesitated. All the trouble she’d caused, piled on top of the fact that Eidolon was one of the most intimidating males she’d ever met, made her a little insecure, when she’d never been that way. Ever.
He was just so… different. Lore, Shade, and Wraith radiated danger with varying
degrees of humor and moodiness. She’d been around danger all her life and could deal with it. Was comfortable with it. But with Eidolon it was impossible to tell where his thoughts were, and it seemed like the calmer he got, the angrier he was. Plus, he had a logical, intelligent side she couldn’t relate to at all.
Nope, chaos and street-smarts were what guided her.
He said nothing when she didn’t enter right away, merely sat there with that shuttered expression and eyes that revealed nothing. Finally, she walked over to his desk.
“Have you learned anything?”
“About why you’re a… what is it called… Smurfette? Or about the plague?”
“Plague,” she said softly. She didn’t give a crap about the reasons behind her existence. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.
“I’ve got nothing,” Eidolon admitted. “Your blood hasn’t revealed any clues. And this disease is like nothing I’ve ever seen. This is a hellfuck of Sheoulic proportions.”
Oh, goodie, she’d caused a hellfuck of a plague. Lore always said that when she did something, she did it well. She’d worn his words like a badge of honor, but she just couldn’t find the pride in what she’d done this time.
“Usually everyone I infect develops something unique… no one dies from the same thing. Have the wargs you’ve seen had different symptoms?”
Eidolon leaned back in his chair. “Everything has been identical to the first victim, from the signs and symptoms, to the way their capillaries dissolved, leading to internal bleeding and ultimately, cardiac arrest. Whatever you did to the first warg has been passed to the wargs he came into contact with, though the mode of transmission is still unknown.”
She frowned. “Conall came into contact with him, so why hasn’t he gotten sick?”
“I’m guessing his vampire half is giving him immunity or resistance.”
“Maybe there’s something in his blood that can help create a vaccine?”
A small smile tipped up one corner of Eidolon’s mouth. “You’re wasting your talents as an assassin. You should be working here.”