Reaver(112)

“R-Reaver?”

He sauntered over to Raphael, who was sitting, stunned, in the splintered remains of his vase. Power, as potent as the sun, radiated from Reaver. With a flick of one finger, he lifted Raphael off the ground and suspended him in the air.

“I could have handed you over to Satan.” Reaver flared his wings, and Harvester gaped. Gold. They were… gold. Never before had she seen such a thing, but she knew angelic history the same as everyone else.

Only Radiants possessed gold wings.

Dark spots appeared before her eyes, and she swayed. In an instant, Reaver caught her, lifting her into his arms and holding her protectively against him. Still, his gaze was locked on Raphael.

“Obviously,” he told Raphael, “I didn’t betray you.”

Raphael swallowed, and the sound echoed as if they were in a canyon. “I didn’t destroy you. I could have, but I didn’t.”

“Actually,” Reaver drawled, “you couldn’t have. But that’s not important. What’s important is that I can destroy you. It would be wise to keep that in mind.” Very gently, Reaver put Harvester down and eyed her clothing. Or lack thereof. “You’re wearing my lingerie for him?”

She shrugged. “I believe in subtle protests.”

His lips twitched. “You’ve never been subtle in your life.”

“Yes, well—” She broke off with a gasp. “You have your memory back.”

“I do. I’m not sure it’s a good thing, but it gives me a starting point for making amends. To you, especially.”

He waved his hand, and suddenly she was clad in a slinky black dress and knee-high leather boots. A sensual breeze blew up her skirt and between her thighs, and wow, the naughty boy had outfitted her with crotchless underwear as well.

“That’s better,” Reaver said. He turned to Raphael. “As for you, I don’t owe you jack shit. But I’ll be the bigger angel and forgive you for having me tortured. I’ll also give you the courtesy of a warning.” Raphael dropped to the ground in an ungainly heap. “Touch Harvester again, and I’ll castrate you. She’s mine. She can’t break the deal she made with you, but I can.”

Harvester’s heart soared. Reaver had offered to castrate an archangel for her. How sweet was that? As Yenrieth he’d only brought her flowers and honey cakes. Oh, yes, she liked the way Reaver rolled.

Raphael settled himself on his knees and bowed his head. “She’s yours.”

“Yes,” Reaver said roughly, as he hooked her around the waist and tugged her close. “She is.”



Reaver flashed Harvester from Raphael’s obnoxiously opulent mansion to Limos’s place, popping right into the living room. They didn’t have much time to spare, and he wasn’t going to waste a second. Harvester had a million questions, he knew, but they’d have to wait. After they were done here, he’d explain everything.

And then he’d make love to her for a solid month.

Arik padded out of the kitchen, a platter of sandwiches in one hand, a TV remote in the other.

“Jesus Christ!” He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Reaver and Harvester in the living room. The sandwiches flipped into the air, but with his super-duper mind powers, Reaver caught them and plopped the plate onto the coffee table.

This Radiant thing was so cool.

Apparently, Arik wasn’t as impressed. He rounded on them, one hand clutching his chest. “What the hell? Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”

“I could fix it if you had one,” Reaver said. Yup, so cool.

“I’ve always said angels were assholes,” Arik muttered.

Limos darted into the room, clad in her samurai armor and wielding a katana. When she saw Reaver and Harvester, she grinned and put away her blade.

“I knew it!” she said. “Ares and Than were all, ‘Dad is acting funny. I think he’s going to do something crazy.’ But I knew you wouldn’t leave us again. Reseph did, too.”

Dad. The word melted him on the inside. Oh, he knew she wasn’t telling the story right; Ares and Than would have called him Reaver. But Limos had made the switch, and he knew she wasn’t going back.

That was even cooler than the Radiant thing.

“I never wanted to leave you,” he said, leaving it at that. He gestured to Harvester. “Harvester has something for you.”

Limos loved presents, and behind the lingering sorrow in her eyes, a spark lit. “What is it?”

Harvester held out her hand. “Come here.”

Thousands of years of distrust sat heavily in the space between them, and Limos hesitated. Reaver didn’t blame her for that, and when she shot him a questioning glance, he nodded, hoping this would be the first step toward a fresh start.