Ah, memories.
Instinctively knowing where he’d find the king of demons, Revenant took the hallway on the right. The hallway that led to the cell where his mother had been kept.
Sure enough, sitting on a wood bench inside the cell was the Prince of Lies himself. He was leaning back against the stone wall, dressed like he was in for a day of work at a law firm. Only the massive black horns sprouting out of his head kept him from looking the part of a lawyer.
Or maybe the horns completed the look.
“Interesting choice of meeting sites,” Revenant said casually, although he felt anything but.
“I thought you’d appreciate it.” Satan ran his hand almost lovingly over the bench. The bastard knew Rev’s weakness, and he was using it well. “Your mother’s blood still stains the wood.”
Revenant had had a lot of practice controlling his emotions, and the rage that welled up now was no exception. Inside, he was burning with it, but outside, he kept his expression blank, his mouth shut. But someday, he swore, he would make Satan pay for what he’d done to Mariel. How, he had no idea, especially given that he didn’t have Heaven’s backing.
Satan looked up. “How is Gethel?”
“As hideous as ever. The doctor doesn’t think she’ll survive Lucifer’s birth.”
“Shame,” Satan said, but he didn’t sound all that broken up. “This doctor… her name is Blaspheme, yes?”
Mother. Fuck. Revenant quickly tamped down the sudden, searing panic that winged its way through him. He didn’t like that Satan knew about Blaspheme. At all.
“Yes.”
Satan nodded. “Bring her to me.”
Oh, hell no. “My Lord, I don’t think —”
“Bring her to me!” Satan’s shout shut down every sound in the dungeon. “Since you’ve failed to deliver an angel, I want your female.”
“You gave me until Sanguinalia to hand over an angel,” Revenant pointed out. “But I’ll go get one now.”
“Oh,” Satan said silkily, “you will bring me an angel. But right now I want your female.”
The demon was taking way too much interest in Blaspheme, which meant he suspected she meant something to Revenant. Somehow, he had to convince Satan otherwise.
“She’s not my female,” Rev said. “I barely know her.”
“Really.” The demon’s gaze narrowed dangerously. “Have you not taken her to your home? Twice? Do you not hang out at that demon medical facility like a pathetic stalker?”
Rev’s pulse kicked up a few notches. “You’re spying on me?”
“I told you I question your loyalty now that you know you’re an angel. In fact, I’ve even had Gethel tethered to her residence. No one can remove her but me.” He stroked the bench again, his fingers tracing the faded outline of a pool of blood. “I would think you would question your own loyalty, given what was done to you and your mother.”
What was done. He said it as if he himself hadn’t ordered every horrible thing that had happened to Rev and his mother.
Revenant shrugged, but holy hell, his heart was racing. “Shit happens. I’m not welcome in Heaven. I’ve made my peace with serving you.”
As if. Revenant had decided not to turn over Gethel to the lying archangel bastards, but that didn’t mean he was going to kiss Satan’s clawed feet, either.
“Then you’ll bring me the female. Alive.”
Revenant frowned. “Why would I bring her to you dead?”
“You truly don’t know, do you?” Satan murmured.
“Know what,” Rev gritted out. Gods, he hated games.
“Your little False Angel is exactly that. False.”
This time Rev didn’t give the demon the satisfaction of a response. He was done with swatting at a toy he’d never reach.
Finally, realizing Rev was going to stand there silently, Satan shoved to his feet, his grin defining the word malevolent.
“A little Pruosi bird visited me today. Told me the False Angel is a vyrm. The very vyrm you were hunting when your memory was taken from you by the archangels the second time,” he said slowly, and Revenant’s heart froze into a solid block of ice.
No. Satan was lying. He had to be.
And yet, as Revenant’s mind spun with reasons the demon would lie, things started to make sense. Like why Blaspheme had seemed so different from other False Angels. And why he’d believed she was keeping a secret from the beginning.
She’d lied to him. She’d made him swear to keep his hands off of her while she fucked him because she didn’t trust him. And the whole time, it was she who was steeping in deception. She’d fucked him, all right. In more ways than one.
Anger and hurt twisted inside him, knotting into a huge tangle of fury. He’d opened himself up to her. He’d helped her. Protected her. He’d trusted her when he hadn’t trusted anyone in thousands of years.
He’d trusted her. Son of a bitch! He should hand her over to Satan like he’d commanded.
“So bring her to me. I don’t care what condition she’s in when you do, as long as she’s breathing.” Satan glanced around the cell as if it were an old friend. “She’ll look good in here, don’t you think? Just like your mother.”
Twenty-Six
Six hours after returning to the safety of Underworld General, Blaspheme had made some progress on the cryptic information Eidolon had given her regarding a solution to her False Angel problem. The Pruosi book of necromancy was definitely the source of Eidolon’s information. Bane, after recovering, with no memory, from the trance-like state he’d entered in the Harrowgate, had been able to translate some of it, but Blaspheme had done most of the translation work herself, and she thought she had a pretty good handle on it.
She needed the DNA of whatever species she was going to disguise herself as, plus… the blood of some powerful immortal being she couldn’t yet pin down. The DNA would be the easy part. Getting blood from some immortal stranger was going to be the challenge.
The sensation of being watched came over her, and she looked up from her table in the clinic cafeteria to see Gem walking toward her. The bright blue streaks in Gem’s black hair matched her scrubs, but she wore ghastly orange rubber clogs that matched precisely nothing. In the universe.
“Interesting place to work,” Gem said, eyeing Blaspheme’s layout of papers and books all over the round table.
“I didn’t feel like being alone in my office or the library,” she said, sweeping aside a pile of crap to make room for Gem. Even with the sideways glances she got from staff members who must have heard the gossip about her fuckup with the blanchier demon, she preferred being here over being by herself. The activity in the cafeteria made her feel safe. And kept her from losing her mind. Or thinking about Revenant.
Gem didn’t sit, instead remained standing across the table from Blas. “There’s something… different about you today.”
“I don’t know what,” Blas said lightly. “Nothing’s changed.”
Everything had changed. She just wished she didn’t have to lie about it.
“No, something’s definitely different.” Gem cocked her head, studying Blaspheme so intently that she squirmed. “I couldn’t see any scars on you until today.”
Blaspheme broke out in a cold sweat. Gem was half Soulshredder, a demon that could see physical and emotional scars that were invisible to everyone else. The breed, one of the most evil on the Ufelskala scale, exploited those scars, fed on the pain and misery of the victim. As far as Blaspheme knew, Gem kept that side of herself under control, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still possess the desire to use the abilities and instincts unique to the species.
“Don’t worry,” Gem said quietly. “I won’t tell anyone what I see.”
Blaspheme was afraid to ask, but she might as well know. “What do you see?”
“I see a strange overlay, like a second skin that’s peeling off of you.” Gem’s hands flexed at her sides. “It makes me want to rip into it and expose whatever is beneath.
” Gem’s green eyes sparked with an eerie glow, and the tattoo around her neck, the one that she’d had inked to contain her inner demon, began to pulse. “Blaspheme, whatever is going on with you, you need to fix it, because it’s not looking… right.” She took off like her feet were on fire.
Shit. Seriously, could things get any worse?
As if she’d cursed herself, the lights in the cafeteria began to flicker. And then, out of nowhere, Revenant appeared in a maelstrom of lightning and swirling black clouds. His wings were spread high, nearly touching the ceiling, and his eyes, dear Lord, his eyes… the black irises had swallowed the whites, leaving him with oily pools of hate framed by thick, inky lashes. He was horrible and beautiful, terrifying and magnetic, and fear clawed at her.
People in the cafeteria screamed as the force of the storm surrounding Revenant lifted them off their feet and slammed them into the walls.
The writing on the gray walls, the spells and incantations that prevented violence, glowed with an intensity she’d never seen. And they clearly weren’t working.
“You lied to me.” Revenant’s rumbling voice could have been dredged from the deepest, darkest depths of hell, and sheer terror gripped her heart.
She stood up so fast her chair tumbled to the floor. “Revenant, I don’t know what you’re —”
“I trusted you. I cared about you. I fucking saved your soul, and you lied!” Tables and chairs overturned, and trays with food and dishes crashed to the floor. Anyone who was still conscious scrambled for the exits.
Oh, bloody hell. He knew. Panic frayed her thought processes, and the only thing she could do was play dumb. And wait… he’d saved her soul? She wasn’t even going to ask.
She paused, giving the last conscious person in the room time to scramble out of the cafeteria. This wasn’t a safe place for her, let alone anyone else.
“I’m still not sure what you’re talking about,” she said as the metal door clanged shut.
Thunder shook the building. “Are you honestly going to deny that you’re… vyrmin?”
A shiver of fear crawled up her spine, and Bane’s earlier words screeched through her brain. I can see death coming. It’s all around you, Blaspheme. It’s coming, and it can’t be stopped.
She was dead. The only question was whether Revenant would make her death happen quickly or slowly. Merciful or painful. Either way, she supposed she had nothing to lose.
“Do you blame me?” she asked, cursing the unsteadiness in her voice. “You’re an angel. You kill my kind for sport.” Sudden rage overshadowed her fear, making her reckless as she moved toward him. “You murdered my father, you son of a bitch.”
“Your father? Who the fuck was your father?”
“An angel named Rifion,” she snarled. “You slaughtered him.”
“Rifion?” Revenant laughed. The bastard actually laughed. “Did you even know him?”
“I never met him,” she spat. “Because you killed him before I was born.”
“Who told you he died before you were born?”
She stopped in front of him, fists clenched. Maybe she’d get in a blow before he squashed her. “My mother.”
“Then your mother is a liar.” He bared his fangs, which looked twice as large as she’d ever seen them. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Like mother like daughter, right?”
“You don’t know anything about my mother.”
“No? She’s the fallen angel you’ve been treating here, isn’t she? She’s the one who freaked out when she saw me in the hall the other day. It all makes sense now. She knew who I was. And she’s the one who texted you at my house. She’s the reason you suddenly hated me.”
There was no point in denying it. All she could do was make an idle threat or plead for her mother’s life.
“Leave her alone,” she begged. “Please. She hasn’t done anything —”
“She lied to you.” He seemed to relish saying that.
Blas clenched her teeth and ground out, “No, she didn’t. She loved my father, and she wanted me to know him, but I never got the chance because you slaughtered him!”
“Yes,” he drawled. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” He flared his wings, and the storm surrounding him died down. “You’re lucky you didn’t know him.” He got right up in her face, practically foaming at the mouth. “When I caught him, he begged for his life.”
“So?” She shoved him hard in the chest, but she might as well have been trying to move a boulder. “Who wouldn’t?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well, good for you. But not everyone is a great and powerful Shadow Angel with a black heart.”
He snarled. “He didn’t just beg for his life. He bartered. And do you want to know what he bartered with?” He didn’t give her the chance to ask. “Your life, and that of your mother.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“No? Well believe this. He cried like a baby. Said he could tell me where his mate and vyrmin daughter were if I would just spare his life.” Revenant spat the words like bullets, each striking a vital organ and making her stumble backward. His massive shoulders rolled as he prowled after her, pressing, stalking, never letting up. “Said he could tell me all about the machinations your mother fell into with an angel named Stamtiel. Now, how would I know that if your father hadn’t blabbed like a frightened child? He was ready to give you up to save his own skin. That is who I killed. A pathetic coward who didn’t deserve a family. Not an angel who fathered a vyrm.”
“No,” she whispered.
The backs of her knees bumped into a chair, and she nearly fell. Rev’s hand shot out to catch her, and wasn’t it gentlemanly of him to prevent her from being hurt before he killed her? But, she supposed, even death-row prisoners got a last meal before they faced the executioner.
“Yes,” Revenant whispered back as he released her arm. “He was scum, and he doesn’t deserve your denial.”
She wanted to deny it. Needed to deny it. But even as she shook her head in stubborn refusal, things started making sense. Something about the way her mother had talked about her father had been off. And that was on the rare occasions in which Blas had been able to get her to discuss him.
Deep down inside, Revenant’s version of Blaspheme’s father’s life and death resonated with her.
But if Revenant was telling the truth, it meant that her father had been alive longer than what her mother had claimed. Blaspheme could have met him. Known him. Maybe she could have saved him.
“Even if I believed you, you still killed him. You said yourself you used to hunt vyrm. Did you really expect me to assume you wouldn’t kill me if I told you the truth? You know damned well that vyrm aren’t safe from angels or fallen angels. That there’s a standing order on both sides to kill us. It’s a rule, Revenant. A fucking rule. So tell me, Destroyer, if you were me, what would you have done?”
A brittle silence fell, interrupted only by the voice on the intercom warning of a disturbance in the cafeteria. She hoped no security forces would try to get inside, because she didn’t doubt Revenant’s ability to slaughter every one of them with a mere thought.
Finally, the oily black pools in his eyes receded, and he gave a slow, shallow nod. “I’d have done the same thing,” he said gruffly.
She blew out a relieved breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She’d gotten him to chill on the lie, which, admittedly, she’d started to feel guilty about. Until she learned he’d killed her father. But just because he was no longer spinning up hurricane-force winds didn’t mean he wasn’t going to slaughter her where she stood.
“So where do we go from here?” She eyed the exit, as if she had any chance at all of escaping. “Are you going to kill me?”
His spectacular wings folded against his back and disappeared. “For deceiving me or for being a vyrm?”
“Either, I suppose.” How nice that they could so civilly discuss her demise.
“Three weeks ago I’d have killed yo
u for either,” he said, his voice as cold and sharp as a frozen blade. “I thought I was a fallen angel with a directive to kill vyrm… and all beings considered to be abominations. Satan hates half-breeds.”
“And now?” A shiver racked her body, and she hated herself for it, because fear wasn’t the only thing running the show. Just standing near Revenant made her heart flutter and her sex ache, and how crazy was that? Talk about your mixed messages. Please don’t kill me. But if you do, can you give me an orgasm first?
And she couldn’t even blame her False Angel enchantment, because if Gem was right, there was very little left of it. A glance at the scar on her wrist confirmed her worst fear. It was all but gone; only a pinprick of faded white flesh was visible above a blue vein at the base of her palm.
“Now… I don’t know.” He clenched his fists as if doing so would keep him from wrapping his hands around her throat.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temples in hopes that she could massage her brain into thinking more clearly.
“What did you mean when you said you saved my soul?” She opened her eyes and met his gaze, which flickered with some unidentifiable emotion.
“I stopped you from killing Lucifer.”
Her heart plummeted to her feet. Oh, gods. He knew? How? She opened her mouth to deny it, but that would just be another lie. Instead, indignant anger gave her a voice.
“Bullshit,” she snapped. “You didn’t stop me because you care about the state of my soul. You stopped me because Lucifer is evil and he plays on your team.”
The air, which smelled like someone had left fish sticks baking in the oven when they fled the cafeteria, went eerily still.
“No, Blaspheme,” he said, his voice as dark and hollow as the inside of a body bag, “I wanted him dead. He tormented me and my mother every day for years. He defiled…” Averting his gaze, he inhaled raggedly, and Blaspheme’s heart squeezed painfully tight. “He defiled us both. Then he spent thousands of years screwing me over, framing me for shit just to watch Satan torture me… fucking asshole. The day he died was the best day of my life. Now he’s coming back, and it means jack shit that I’m more powerful than he is. Satan will favor him. Heaven doesn’t want me, so all I have is hell. And trust me, if you have to do Satan’s bidding, you either want to be his right-hand man, or you want to fly under the radar. I’m not under the radar anymore.” His eyes snapped up, and in their shadowy depths Blaspheme saw unimaginable pain. “I can’t be second to Lucifer again. I… can’t. But I couldn’t watch you do something that would haunt you forever. You’re a healer, not a killer.”