“No.” Kynan gestured to the demons surrounding him. “They’re my friends and in-laws, and they know everything about me.”
Oh, so not good. Kynan was not only an Elder, the very top of the Guardian tier, but as a Marked Sentinel, he was in possession of something so important to the survival of the human race that he’d been charmed by angels with immortality in order to protect the item—an item that demons could use against humans to enslave them, destroy them, or worse.
“There are things I cannot discuss in front of demons.”
“These demons made me what I am. I’m even married to one. So get over it.”
The paramedic rapped his knuckles on her chains. “It’s not like you have a choice.”
She scowled at him. “What’s your name?”
“Shade.”
“Well, Shade, I might not have a choice, but neither do you. Kynan is in great danger, and if you don’t release me, he could die.”
Kynan slid her a look edged with doubt. “Who is after me? A fallen angel? As you saw, I’m prepared.”
“Not a fallen angel. The demon you call Lore.”
Eidolon arched a brow. “That’s impossible.”
“I’d have thought so, too, but I wouldn’t have been summoned to Kynan if he hadn’t been in true danger.”
The entire lot of them exchanged glances, and then Kynan unclipped her chains from the stakes in the floor. “Only one way to find out.”
“Reaver?” Shade asked.
“Yup.”
They dragged her unceremoniously through the sliding ER doors into an underground parking lot, the Bracken Cuffs still circling her wrists, which meant there’d be no flashing out of there. Not that she would. She needed Kynan to understand the seriousness of his situation. But why the parking lot?
“There’s a spell shielding the hospital from entry and exit via any means other than the Harrowgate and the parking garage,” Eidolon said, obviously anticipating her question. “Since Reaver can’t use Harrowgates anymore, he has to materialize someplace unprotected.”
Kynan stood at the back of a black ambulance in the middle of the lot and shouted for Reaver.
“Who is Reaver?” she asked.
“An angel.”
An angel? Surely he meant a fallen angel…
A bright light flooded the lot, blinding in its intensity. Idess winced, shielded her eyes until it faded away. And there, standing in front of Kynan, was a beautiful male angel, his golden hair flowing in an impossibly perfect curtain around his broad shoulders. His clothes were modern, business casual… black slacks and a dark blue shirt that matched his eyes, and no way was this a fallen angel.
Idess gaped like an idiot. Since true, full angels tended to hang out in Heaven, she’d seen very few, and those had been only in passing and from a distance.
“Hey, man,” Kynan said with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Reaver shoved his hands in his pockets and gave them all a once-over, his gaze lingering for an extra second on Idess. “Wish I could say the same,” he said gruffly, though a slight tilt of his mouth gave away the fact that he wasn’t completely annoyed at having been summoned. “It’s not really cool for me to be hanging out with demons at a demon hospital.”
“Oh, sure,” Wraith drawled. “Now that you’re all angelfied, you’re too good for us, huh?”
Reaver appeared to consider that. Then he nodded. “Pretty much.”
Wraith snorted, revealing fangs. He was part vampire?
“Lemme see your wings,” he said, and when Reaver leveled a flat stare at him, Wraith rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. I saved the world. I should at least get to see your wings.”
He’d saved the world? Surely this insolent sex demon was not the one rumored to have prevented Armageddon. Over the last few weeks, the story had spread like hellfire through the earthbound Memitim ranks, but the information she’d gleaned from her brethren had been all speculation. And the demon supposedly fighting on the side of good against the fallen angel, Byzamoth, was said to be twenty feet tall, humble, and a servant of God.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” the demon cajoled, with a waggle of brows, and this definitely could not be the unholy champion who was already a legend. “Show the savior of the human race some feathers.”
“We’ll never hear the end of that, will we?” Reaver asked, and Eidolon shook his head.
My God, it’s true.
“We get to listen to it every day.”
The blond Sem grinned. “The Vamp Council hung a portrait of me on their hero wall. How’s that for ironic?”