Except the latter wasn’t an argument. Their mother had chosen Reaver to be sent to Heaven to be raised.
So maybe it was time for a good old-fashioned family reunion, if only to see what had made Reaver her favorite.
Blaspheme could still taste Revenant on her lips. The bastard tasted like spiced rum, and she loved that stuff. Why couldn’t he taste like onions or garlic? And it would be awesome if he reeked, too. But no, he had to smell as good as he tasted, earthy and natural, like sex in the woods. He’d make a fantastic air freshener for some guy’s man cave.
She tried not to think about him as she dodged patients and bustling staff in the emergency department, but the kiss lingered on her lips and in her mind. She shouldn’t have let him near her, should have gotten away from him before he could grab her, shove her against the wall, and kiss her until her panties were damp.
Son of a bitch.
She needed to get laid.
How long had it been? She had to think back a couple of years, but she stopped herself before she went too far. He’d been a surgeon, a complete asshole, and they’d both been using each other. They’d used each other right up until the point when he’d gotten himself killed by Aegis slayers.
Yeah, she needed to just let that one go. Actually, she should let all thoughts of sex go, because right now she didn’t have the time anyway. The responsibility of running a clinic was enough stress as it was. But now her mother’s life was in danger, and not just from her injuries, but from angels as well. To top it all off, Blas’s own trouble with her deteriorating False Angel enchantment meant her own life and career were at risk. Her life was a mess, and she definitely didn’t need to throw sex into the mix.
She dropped off Gethel’s blood sample at the lab with orders to expedite the tests. She even flirted a little with the lab tech, partly to ensure that her request was honored, and partly to maintain her False Angel reputation. False Angels were the biggest flirts on the planet, and it was becoming harder and harder to act like a False Angel now that she no longer felt like one.
She used to daydream about what it would feel like to no longer need to seduce people for fun, to no longer trick humans into thinking she was a Heavenly angel sent to guide them on a life path. But now that her daydreams were becoming reality and the gifts she’d relied on, like the X-ray vision, were failing, she was a little frightened. She’d never known anything but what her fake False Angel instincts made her feel, and suddenly, she was swimming in unknown, and possibly dangerous, waters.
Speaking of dangerous waters, she gave Eidolon a quick call to see if he was available for a meeting.
“My office in five,” he told her.
The Seminus demon was sitting at his desk when she got there, his short dark hair slightly flattened in the familiar shape of a surgical cap. He waved her inside, and she closed the door behind her.
“Blaspheme,” he said, leaning back in his chair to peg her with shrewd black eyes. “How’s your mom doing?”
He knew damned well how she was. Eidolon didn’t miss anything that went on in his hospital or his clinic, but she humored him.
“She’s doing as well as can be expected, thank you.”
“Any word on the identity of her attacker?”
“Not so far.” It wasn’t as if she could go to the police, and while demons did have a justice system – which Eidolon used to be part of – it was limited in scope. Plus, as the dam of a vyrm, her mother was sort of an outlaw, so she couldn’t seek help through normal channels such as a species Council or the Judicia.
“Are you in any danger?”
“Nothing immediate,” she said, hoping it was true. When his concerned gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat too long, she sat up straight in alarm. “What is it?”
“It’s probably nothing, but there have been a couple of angel sightings around the hospital.”
“What?” She gripped the edge of the desk so hard she was sure she’d leave dents. “How did they get in —”
“They didn’t. They’ve been spotted on the Manhattan streets directly above the hospital. It could be coincidence, something going on with the humans. But since your mother was attacked by an angel, I thought you should know.”
“Oh. Thank you,” she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster, given the fact that angels were sniffing around.
Eidolon steepled his hands together over his abs and studied her in that unnerving way he had. “I hear you had a visitor today.”
Of course he had. “Revenant is why I’m here.” She blew out a long breath, still rattled by the angel news. “He needed me to handle a medical issue.”
Eidolon scowled. “His medical issue?”
Ha. She couldn’t imagine Revenant ever asking for help. He struck her as the macho idiot type who wouldn’t go to a doctor even if he had a battle-ax sticking out the top of his thick skull.
“Someone else’s.” She met Eidolon’s gaze with a steady one of her own. “It was Gethel.”
Gold flecks shimmered in the doctor’s eyes, a twenty-four-karat sign that he was either angry or turned on, but she could guarantee it wasn’t the latter. Mated Sems could only be aroused by their mates.
“Gethel,” he said flatly. “You’re saying you treated a female who betrayed everyone who trusted her in order to usher in the Apocalypse? An angel who tried to slaughter a newborn infant I delivered with my own hands and who is now my godson? Who helped Pestilence to torture my brother’s mate, Idess? That Gethel?”
Shit, this was not going to go well. “It’s not what you think.”
Very slowly, he sat forward, propping his thickly muscled forearms on the desk as he clenched and unclenched his hands. “Then you need to explain yourself, and fast.” At least he was calm, even if every guttural word dripped with menace.
“Did you know she’s pregnant with Lucifer’s reincarnated soul, and that his father is Satan himself?”
“I’m aware.” There were red flecks mixing with the gold now, which meant he’d hit a new level of pissed. “Get to the part where your treating her isn’t what I think. Because right now I’m thinking you helped the mortal enemy of pretty much everyone I know, and I’m wondering if I made the right choice in putting you in charge of the clinic with Gem.”
“Right. Okay.” She swallowed dryly, wishing she’d grabbed a bottle of water from the machine outside his office. “I didn’t know it was Gethel he wanted me to treat. As soon as I realized who it was, I refused.”
The red in his eyes swallowed the gold and was beginning to eat up even the black of his irises. “Did he force you?” His voice rumbled like a nine-point-zero earthquake.
“No.” Perspiration beaded on her brow, but whether it was because she was nervous or because she was getting hot flashes as her cover wore off, she didn’t know. “But Eidolon, he gave me the opportunity to find out what’s going on with her. I got a blood sample. It’s in the lab right now being analyzed. I’m hoping you can use anything I learned to destroy her.”
The crimson in his eyes scaled back, but only a little. “Do you know where she is?”
“No idea. Revenant flashed me directly to her lair, so I couldn’t tell where we were. But something funky is going on with her. Apparently, it’s the result of whatever the archangels did when they tried to swap her baby with Limos’s.”
Eidolon appeared to consider what she’d said. “What is this… funky? Medically speaking, funky isn’t all that informative.”
He could be a real smart-ass sometimes. “She looks like a zombie, and the hellspawn is twice the size it should be.”
“What’s she eating?”
“Demon younglings.”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes returned to normal. “Pregnant fallen angels need a lot of untainted, young blood,” he said, and she so didn’t need the reminder that her own mother had probably dined on her fair share of young blood while pregnant with Blaspheme. How many lives had ended so Blaspheme could live? “That’s
for a normal pregnancy. But a fallen angel carrying fucking Lucifer would require a shit-ton of the purest blood available.”
“I told her to stop eating infants and eat more vegetables.”
Eidolon blinked. And then, to her surprise, he let out a huge belly laugh. “Vegetables?”
“Leafy greens, to be exact.”
Grinning, he shook his head. “Between the lack of pure blood and the introduction of greens during a purely carnivorous diet phase, she’s going to be sick enough to kill a Gargantua demon.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“I like the way you think.” He sobered, but the tenseness in him was gone. Good, because she’d been afraid for her job for a minute there. “What else can you tell me about her?”
“Not much. I didn’t get the chance to do more than get blood and check vitals. The baby hellspawn nearly blew my skull apart when I tried to listen to his heartbeat.”
Eidolon nodded gravely. “According to Reaver, even without being fully formed, Lucifer is more powerful than most fallen angels. Once he’s born…”
“It’s going to be bad.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Footsteps sounded out in the hall, and he waited for them to fade before returning to the conversation. “Speaking of bad,” he began, “are you sure I can’t help locate your mother’s attackers?”
“Adoptive mother,” she corrected.
“Fine,” he said. “Adoptive mother.” Eidolon’s placating smile chilled her to the bone. She’d had a feeling that he didn’t believe she was a False Angel, but she hadn’t realized he’d put more of the puzzle pieces together.
He might not know the truth, but he suspected.
“I’m sure,” she said. “It was probably just a random thing. Angels attacking fallen angels happens all the time.”
“If you need anything, I want you to come to me. You can trust me, Blaspheme.”
“I know.” She’d been around long enough to know that Eidolon and all of his siblings were loyal as hell, but her life was at stake, and trust didn’t come easily to her. Plus, she didn’t want to drag innocent people into her problems.
He nodded decisively, the matter settled in his mind. “I’m going to fill Reaver and the Horsemen in on the events with Gethel. Let me know when the lab results come back. Will Revenant want you to see her again?”
You and I aren’t done. Not by a long shot. Revenant’s deep voice rumbled through her memory, and she shivered at the possessiveness that had both frightened and intrigued her.
“Definitely. I think I’ve convinced him that she needs an ultrasound, but I’m hoping he’ll bring her to me instead of wanting to take me to her.”
The doctor picked up a pencil and began flipping it across his fingers. “If he comes to you, page me. This could be the key to getting rid of Gethel once and for all, but I’ll handle it in your place.”
“Thank you. And if you could draw some amniotic fluid, that would be great.” At E’s questioning look, she added, “I need Lucifer’s mesenchymal stem cells. Since they can develop into multiple cell types, I think I can use them to heal my mother.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Brilliant. The potential medical applications for stem cells taken from a being as powerful as Lucifer are staggering. Getting cord blood for hematopoietic stem cells would be priceless, too, but with any luck, he won’t be born at all.” His pager beeped, and he quickly checked the screen. “I have to go. But Blaspheme… be careful. And don’t hesitate to come to me if you need anything. Anything. I have resources at my disposal that you can’t imagine.”
Casually, habitually, she rubbed the tiny scar on her wrist. It was even smaller than it had been yesterday.
Well, Doc, got a False Angel in your pocket who doesn’t mind being sacrificed to maintain my cover? No? That’s what I thought.
Time was running out.
Seven
Revenant sat high above the city of Paris, perched on Notre-Dame Cathedral’s towering rooftop. He’d witnessed the construction of the ancient building, and he’d always been fascinated by it. From the French Gothic architecture to the winding city streets below, he loved the sweeping size, the awe of the people milling around inside and out.
Sudden pressure inside his skull alerted him to the presence of another, and he turned to see Reaver standing a few feet away, dressed in jeans and a blue Henley.
“Hello, brother.” Rev didn’t bother standing. Instead, he stretched out his legs in front of him, crossed his booted feet at the ankles, and leaned back against a support rail. “I was wondering if you’d show up.”
“It was hard to ignore your invitation.” Reaver folded his arms over his chest. “It’s impossible to concentrate on anything else when you’re projecting.”
“Hmm.” Revenant smiled. “I guess we’re even, because I can feel it when you’re happy. It’s nauseating. Literally.”
“I’ll buy you barf bags for Christmas,” Reaver drawled.
“So thoughtful.” He stared at his brother, wondering what would have happened if they’d been raised together. In Heaven or Sheoul. With a thought, he turned his black hair blond to match Reaver’s. Although they weren’t identical, they were twins; they might as well look the part.
“You’ve been ignoring my summons for weeks. So why are you contacting me now?” Reaver asked.
“Ah, Reaver. Or should I say Yenrieth? That is your given name. Your Heavenly name. Funny how I don’t have one.”
Reaver’s blond brows climbed. “Our mother called you Revenant?”
“From the beginning.” He looked up at the gray sky overhead. Rain was coming. “It didn’t seem strange until now.” A twinge of hurt… a feeling he’d long thought he couldn’t feel but that seemed to be making the rounds lately… plucked at him. He quickly brushed it aside and filled the void with a much more user-friendly emotion. He and anger had always been intimate. “As to why I want to talk now… let’s just say that my memory is back, but I still have questions.”
“As do I.”
“Really. And what, exactly, are your questions?”
Reaver studied Revenant for a few moments, peering at him like he was an ape. Not wanting to disappoint his big brother, Rev scratched his crotch. Sniffed his armpits. Let out an impressive belch. He was about to pass gas, when Reaver cursed.
“How about you go first,” Reaver said. “Ask your questions.”
Very magnanimous of him. Must be what our mother saw in him, Revenant thought bitterly.
“Let’s start at the beginning.” Rev materialized himself a lit cigar made of the finest Sheoul bloodleaf. “Who raised you? Did you know about our parents?”
Reaver wrinkled his nose at Rev’s smoke. “I believed Metatron and his mate, Caila, were my parents. I didn’t know the truth until you came to me on Mount Megiddo.”
That had been around five thousand years ago, right after their mother’s death. Right after she’d told him the truth about his origins. He’d been confused, afraid, and angry as hell about being lied to.
“I learned the truth about our birth only hours before I went to you,” Revenant said. “I thought I’d been born an emim, that our mother was a fallen angel.”
“Why did she lie to you?”
Anger bubbled up inside him, as fresh as it had been that day. “She had no choice. Satan threatened to kill us both if she ever revealed the truth.” But Satan hadn’t had the chance to kill his mother. No, Rev had taken that particular honor himself. Hand shaking, he took a drag on his cigar, letting the calming effects of the bloodleaf seep into his body. “So what was growing up with Metatron like?”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better life.”
“How sweet. I was beaten on most days.” He continued before he had to see pity in his twin’s eyes. “If not me, then Mother.”
Reaver went taut, his teeth clenched hard. “Tell me about her.”
Revenant blew out a long stream of smoke. “When you can ask nice
ly —”
“Please,” Reaver blurted. “I don’t even know what she looked like.” He gazed out over the Parisian skyline, and in his profile, Revenant saw the strong line of their mother’s jaw. The graceful arch of her brow. The chiseled cut of her cheekbones. In Rev’s hand, the cigar shook so badly he couldn’t take a drag. “I looked her up in the Akashic Library last week, but all I found was a rundown of her accomplishments.”
Must be nice to have access to Heaven’s largest library. Hell, the Akashic Library supposedly held the truth behind every great mystery, every forgotten scrap of history. Minus, of course, any information the archangels deemed too sensitive for commoners to gain access to.
Now should be the time when Revenant disappeared, leaving his brother in the dust to forever wonder if his questions about their mother would be answered. But their mother had always wanted Reaver to know the truth about their births and her life.
“Find Yenrieth,” she rasped as she lay dying. “Find him and be the brothers you should have been.”
“She was beautiful,” he said, hating himself for the emotional warble in his voice. “Even with dirt on her face and hair that hadn’t seen a comb since she was captured, she was beautiful.” He finally managed to get the cigar to his lips. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Finish the story without breaking down like a pussy. “We shared a cell until I was ten. Then I was taken away to work in Satan’s mines, and I didn’t see her again for a decade.”
Not for a lack of trying, though. He’d made a million attempts to escape the mines and the demons who wielded the whips, but he always got caught.
Only later did he learn that for every infraction he committed, every rule he broke, his mother paid the price.
“You grew up in a cell?” Reaver asked. “Like a prison cell?”
He laughed bitterly. “A prison cell would have been a luxury.” He tossed the cigar to the roof and ground it to dust with his boot. “You know, like food and water was for us.”
He’d always wondered why, sometimes when he was hungry or thirsty, he’d get anxious, as though if he didn’t get food and water right away, he’d go crazy. Now that he had his memory back, the anxiety made sense. He and his mother had starved for years. He remembered her begging for food, not for herself, but for him. And on several occasions, she’d gotten what they needed by making trades with the only thing she had to offer.