Sin Undone

  War shifted, and his leather armor squeaked loudly in the otherwise silent ER. “It’s what was engraved on the back of this Seal.”

  Slowly, Sin pulled her right arm out of her jacket and raised her sleeve to reveal the circular glyph that had split open so badly at Rivesta’s cabin. The scar that ran through it was an exact replica of the broken edge of the Seal. “I’m the reason it broke,” Sin rasped.

  “Yes. You are what we call an agimortus, a catalyst of sorts. Your actions put into motion an event that caused my brother’s Seal to break.”

  “Wait,” Con said. “So why was he trying to kill her? He was there when my house blew up… He tried to shoot her.”

  “We were all trying to kill her,” War said. “No offense to you, Sin, but we wanted to prevent the Seal from breaking. Contrary to a lot of religious interpretations, we’re neither good nor evil until the Seals break.”

  “And then?”

  “And then it’s time to bow before whatever God you believe in.”

  Sin’s dainty eyebrows slammed down in a frown. “Why did Pest save me from assassins in Montana if he was trying to kill me?”

  “By then, the Seal had already broken. At this point, your life or death isn’t important, but he did want you to have the coin.”

  “Why?”

  War rubbed his thumb over the writing on the Seal. “A message to me,” he said quietly.

  “So, are you still planning to kill me?” Sin asked, her arm tensing under Con’s palm.

  “There’s no point.” He rolled one big shoulder in a shrug, and his mouth turned up in a smile that probably made females fall all over him. “Besides, it would be a shame to kill you.”

  Another growl formed in Con’s chest, but Sin squeezed his hand, reminding him that she was there with Con, and she wasn’t going anywhere. Not even for muscle-bound legend guy. Asshole. “What was the final straw that broke it?” Con asked, much more nicely than he’d have liked. And that note of awe in his voice… seriously? Humiliating.

  War slipped the coin into his horse’s saddlebag. “It triggered when the disease jumped species and the two warg factions began to battle each other.” He glanced at Eidolon. “Yes, we’ve kept up on everything that’s happened.”

  “What can we do?” Eidolon asked.

  “Pray.” War mounted the horse. “And prepare your staff for mass casualties. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. If they get better.” With a jerk of the reins, he and the stallion disappeared into the Harrowgate.

  Everyone stood there for a moment, frozen and silent. When the ambulance-bay doors slid open and Blaspheme and Vladlena rolled a patient in on a stretcher, everyone finally leaped into action. Everyone but Con, who stared at Sin.

  “There’s never a dull moment with you, is there?”

  She frowned. “Are you regretting—”

  “No!” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “No. Never. Now, let’s go feed you, and then I’m going to make sure that War asshole”—freaking Horseman—“never enters your mind again.”

  Grinning, Sin linked arms with him. “War who?”

  Yeah, War who. As Con led Sin toward the Harrowgate, he had a feeling they’d not seen the last of him.

  Twenty-eight

  “Are you crazy?” Sin asked Lore, as they stood in front of Eidolon’s door. He’d just outlined his plan to her, and she was about to fall over. “I know they’ve been all brotherly and stuff, but they’re never going to go for this. Never. And you’re going to feel like an idiot.”

  Lore, wearing a form-fitting charcoal T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots, shrugged. “If they don’t go for it, that’s their choice, and I understand.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sin jammed her fists on her leather-clad hips. “What does Idess have to say about this?”

  “She doesn’t know. I mean, she knows I plan to ask, but she doesn’t know I’m asking right now. I don’t want them to feel any pressure, and I don’t want her to feel bad if they refuse. She’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  Sin just shook her head. Lore was in for one hell of a letdown. Their brothers had been a well of support, yes, but this… this was asking too much.

  Con was already inside, looking fabulous in midnight jeans and a silver button-down that set off his eyes. Everyone was there in the living room—everyone but Idess. Even Kynan and Gem had come. And seriously, how could a pregnant chick look so good in Goth gear?

  Taking Con’s hand, Sin stood behind Lore, ready to be there for him when their brothers refused his request.

  Runa and Shade were on the floor with their triplets, who were crawling around and playing with the dog and the ferret, who kept stealing their toys.

  Eidolon was in the overstuffed leather chair with Tayla on his lap, while Wraith sprawled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, his arm flung around Serena, who was holding a sleeping Stewie. “So, what’s up? What’s this favor you need?”

  Everyone’s eyes were on Lore, and Sin’s heart pounded.

  “Ah…” Lore shifted his weight.

  “Spill, man,” Shade said.

  “Yeah, that,” Lore muttered, and Sin groaned.

  “What?” That from Eidolon.

  “I need your sperm,” Lore blurted. Shade, who had been drinking a soda, choked. Everyone else gaped. Sin groaned again. Tact had never been one of the items in her brother’s chest of personality traits.

  Finally, Runa said softly, “You want a baby.”

  “Yeah.” Lore looked down at the floor, and Sin’s heart broke for him. “You know I’m sterile. This half-breed shit. But Idess and I… we want a family. Since I can’t give her that, I was hoping maybe… Well, the next best thing would be a brother.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “If you don’t want to, I get it. It’s cool.”

  The brothers all looked at each other. Then looked at their mates. God, Sin could have cut the tension with a knife. She gripped Lore’s hand in her empty one. “Hey, maybe we should go. Give them time—”

  “No,” Tayla said. “I don’t think there’s even a question.” She smiled at Eidolon, who returned it with a crooked upturn of his lips. “If you need it, you got it.” Her smile turned very, very naughty. “But you’ll have to wait until we’re done with it. We’re going to be using it all for a while.”

  Eidolon lit up, and he pulled Tayla into a crushing hug, his palm going straight to her belly before glancing at Lore. “Yeah, bro, you got it. Maybe as early as tomorrow.”

  Wraith rolled his eyes at the happy couple, but after getting a nod from Serena, he turned back to Lore and drawled, “Hell, I’ll give it up.”

  Shade shrugged. “Yup.”

  Sin sagged against Con, relieved, happy, and awed by this incredible family. How stupid she’d been to not want to get to know them.

  “I have beer,” Idess called out from the hall, and when she walked into the living room, Sin could only imagine what she felt at the grins that came from all corners. “Oh,” she breathed, and cut her gaze to Lore. “You… asked…?”

  Lore held out his arms, and she rushed to him, her eyes brimming with joyful tears. “Thank you,” she said, to no one in particular. “Oh, thank you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re heroes,” Wraith muttered, and then a bright, cocky smile lit up his face. “Oh, hey, I really am. Apocalypse, fallen angel, saved the world…”

  Serena gave him a well-deserved jab in the side, and he “oofed.”

  Eidolon lovingly ran his hand up and down Tayla’s arm, his fingers caressing the mate dermoire etched into her skin. “Can you believe how lucky we are? Seminus demons rarely take lifemates, but here we are, all of us mated.”

  “And alive,” Shade added.

  “That’s a total shocker,” Wraith threw in.

  Gem laughed at Wraith. “Definitely a miracle. Especially in your case, dumb-ass.”

  “It’s not a miracle.”

  All heads whipped around to a tall, stunning male who stood in the ent
rance to the living room. His thick blond curtain of hair fell perfectly around broad shoulders, and his black slacks and shirt had to be custom made to so perfectly fit his gorgeous body.

  “Reaver,” Shade ground out, and okay, this was the former fallen angel who had fought alongside Wraith in Israel. “I hate it when you do that.”

  Reaver grinned, a total panty-melter. “Why do you think I do it?”

  Eidolon tucked Tayla tighter against him. “So why isn’t our situation a miracle?”

  “Because it’s all fated, you silly demon. You all played roles in saving the world, and some of you have much more to do.” He shrugged. “It’s all good.”

  Wraith threw a handful of popcorn at the angel. “You know I hate the cryptic shit.”

  Suddenly, they were all pelting Reaver with food, and while they engaged in what was probably the strangest battle between angels and demons in history, Sin pulled Con into the hall, away from the laughter and curses.

  “I haven’t had a chance to thank you.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “For saving my life, maybe. But not for giving me one.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Con, thank you. I love you so much.”

  Warmth radiated from him, and Sin wondered why she’d ever believed that vampires were cold. “We got a good thing here.”

  “Yeah.” Sin thought about her brothers, her sisters-in-law, her new friends, and the fact that standing before her was the most perfect mate on the planet. “I can’t think of anything better.”

  “It could be better… someday.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what Lore was just talking about—”

  “Ah… I can’t ask my brothers for sperm. ’Cuz with my egg, that’s just gross.”

  Con laughed, his fangs flashing sexily. “Not them. Me.”

  She patted his hand like she did with her baby nephews. “Sweetie, you’re a vampire.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not a stupid vampire. I sort of planned for this scenario.”

  “You’ve got some little popsicles?”

  “Yup. I gave E samples of everything before Luc killed me.”

  Her heart gave a great thump. She’d never wanted kids. Had never even thought about wanting them. But as she stood there with the male she loved, in a house full of the family she never thought she’d have… she realized that, yeah, she did want them. Maybe not today, but she and Con had hundreds of years together, and in the meantime, she had lots of nephews to play with. Well, to look at from a distance, anyway.

  “It’s funny,” she said, with a strange hitch in her voice, “but I never wanted to be tied to anyone. Never wanted to be owned or to belong to another person. But now I realize that belonging with someone is completely different. I belong with you, Con.”

  “And I with you.”

  He kissed her, sealing them together with a bond she didn’t mind, and one that would never be broken.

  The prophesies were there but no one listened. Until now.

  They are the Lords of Deliverance and they have the power to usher in Doomsday… or prevent it.

  Please turn this page

  for a preview of

  Eternal Rider

  Available in March 2011.

  Prologue

  Her name was Lilith, and she was an evil succubus. His name was Yenrieth, and he was a good angel.

  After hundreds of years of seducing humans, Lilith got bored. So she set her sights on Yenrieth, the ultimate challenge. He resisted. She pursued. He resisted some more. This went on for decades, until the inevitable happened. She was, after all, beautiful, and he liked his wine a little too much.

  No one knows what happened to Yenrieth after their night of passion, but nine months later, Lilith gave birth to four children: three boys and a girl. She named them Reseph, Ares, Limos, and Thanatos. Lilith kept the girl, Limos, with her in Sheoul, and she placed the males in the human world, switching them out with the infants of wealthy, powerful families.

  The boys grew into men, never suspecting the truth about their origins. At least, not until demons rose up, spreading terror and seeking to use Lilith’s sons against the humans. Limos escaped from Sheoul, found her brothers, and told them the truth in that gossipy way females often do.

  By this time, the brothers had seen their lands and families destroyed by demons and, blinded by hatred and the need for revenge, Lilith’s children encouraged (manipulatively and forcibly, sometimes) humans to help them fight violent, never-ending battles against the underworld abominations.

  This didn’t go over well in the heavenly realm.

  Zachariel, an Angel of the Apocalypse, led a legion of angels to Earth, where they met in battle with demon hordes. When the earth and waters ran red with blood, and humans could no longer survive on the poisoned land, Zachariel struck a deal with the devil.

  Yes, that devil.

  Lilith’s children were to be punished for slinging mankind to the brink of doom in their selfish bid for revenge. Because they had nearly brought about the end of days, they were charged to be the keepers of Armageddon. Defenders or instigators, the choice would fall on their shoulders.

  Each was given a Seal, and with each Seal came two prophecies. Should they protect their Seals from breaking until the prophecy laid out by the Bible came to pass, they would save their souls—and mankind.

  But should they allow the Seals to be broken prematurely, as written in the Daemonica, the demon bible, they would turn evil and would forever be known by the names Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death.

  And so were born The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

  “Mmm… I love that story. Doesn’t it give you shivers when you hear it?”

  Ares, seated at the bar of an underworld pub, tried to ignore the female behind him, but the rub of her breasts against his back and the slide of her dainty hands from his waist to his inner thighs wasn’t easy to tune out. Her heat burned right through his hard leather armor.

  “Yeah. Shivers.” Some idiot read aloud the prophecy off the plaque that hung on the wall between two skulls every time Ares was in here… which was often. The tavern, kept in business mainly by Ares and his siblings, was his second home, was even known as The Four Horsemen, and for the most part, male demons melted into the background or scurried out the back door when Ares arrived. Wise. Ares despised demons, and that, combined with his love of a good fight, led to… bad things… for hell’s minions.

  But the opposite sex was a little braver—or maybe hornier. Female demons, shifters, weres, and vamps hung out twenty-four-seven in hopes of getting their hands, paws, or hooves on Ares and his brothers. Hell, Ares couldn’t swing his dick without hitting someone out to get him. Usually he was a little more receptive to drinking, gambling, and general mischief, but something wasn’t sitting right today. He was on edge. Twitchy.

  He was never like that.

  He was even in danger of losing the chess game he was playing with the pudgy pink Oni bartender, and Ares hadn’t lost any game of strategy in… well, ever.

  “Oh, War.” The female Sora demon ran her tongue along the top of his ear. “You’ve got to know it makes us hot.”

  “My name,” he gritted out, “is Ares. You don’t want to be around on the day I become War.” He moved his rook, tossed back half his ale, and was about to signal for another when the female’s hand dropped between his legs.

  “I still like War better.” Her voice was a seductive trill, her fingers nimble as they sought the opening at his groin. “And Pestilence… such a sexy name.”

  Only a demon would think “Pestilence” was a turn-on. Ares peeled her red hand away. She was one of Reseph’s regular bedmates, one of hundreds of Horsemen groupies who called themselves Megiddo Mount-me’s. They even subclassed themselves according to who their favorite Horseman was; Ares’s groupies liked to be called Mongers. War Mongers.

  The bartender made a foolish move with his knight, and Ares hid
a smile in his mug.

  “Reseph should be here any minute,” he told the Sora, and her lips curved against his skin on the back of his neck.

  “Good. I’ll play with both of you.” The female, who looked like a cartoon devil, traced a long, black nail over the stallion tattoo on Ares’s forearm. “I love this.”

  The horse was as much a part of him as his organs, whether Battle was on his skin or under his seat, and Ares stiffened at the sensation of both his arm and scalp being stroked. Any contact with the glyph sent a shock of sensation to the corresponding parts of Ares’s body, which could be a real pain in the ass. Or it could be inappropriately pleasant…

  Ares spun his mug down the length of the bar top and slid his queen into striking position. Triumph sang through him, filling that space in his soul that was always hungry for victory. “Checkmate.”

  The bartender cursed, the Sora laughed, and Ares got to his feet. At over six and a half feet tall, he dwarfed the demon, but that didn’t faze her, and she plastered the entire length of her tank-topped, miniskirted body to his. Her tail swished on the cobblestone floor and her black horns swiveled like pointy satellite dishes, and if her gaze grew any hotter, his breeches were going to get real uncomfortable.

  He despised his reaction to demons, had never truly warmed up to females who didn’t at least appear to be human.

  Some grudges lasted a lifetime.

  “I’m outta here.” Despite the chess coup, his unease was becoming an itch under his skin, the way it did when a global war escalated. Unable to remain still any longer, he flung a gold Sheoulin mark at the three-eyed bartender. “A round for the house. Give the females something to do while they’re waiting for my brothers.” Who were late, as usual.

  Gently, but firmly, he dislodged the Velcro demon and strode out of the tavern and into perpetual twilight. Muggy, hot air that reeked of sulphur filled his lungs, and his boots sank into the spongy terrain that defined the Six River region of Sheoul, the demon realm in the Earth’s core.