“You really should have killed me,” Gethel said, twisting the knife Raphael had already stabbed him with. “Now I’m under the protection of both Satan and Lucifer.” She patted her belly again, as if she was carrying a sweet, innocent baby and not, literally, the spawn of Satan. “Granted, my little boy isn’t as strong as he could be yet, but I’m about to rectify that. Harvester’s blood, extracted with the Dark Lord’s own pressing machines, will nourish him.” Fat black veins started to spread from her fingers to her arms, neck, and finally, her face, and her voice went low. “And then you will all know his wrath. All of Heaven will feel it.”
Gethel’s image faded away, and Reaver’s heart plummeted to his feet at the mention of Harvester. Until five months ago, Reaver had believed she was the enemy. Raphael’s revelation that she’d been working with Heaven all along, that she’d fallen from Heaven in order to watch over the Horsemen, had knocked Reaver for a loop.
But what had really blown his mind was that the archangels refused to rescue her from Satan’s prison. Her service to Heaven and mankind deserved better.
Plus, Reaver wanted answers. He needed to know why she would give up everything to watch over children who weren’t even hers.
Lorelia smoothed her hands down the front of her gray business jacket and matching skirt as she looked at the empty space where Gethel had stood. For at least the tenth time, Reaver wondered how she’d ever been chosen as Watcher. She’d always come across as a little mousy, a lot inquisitive, and definitely more scholar than warrior.
“What was Gethel talking about?” she asked.
Metatron spoke up, his voice still calm, but an underlying current of anger charged the air around him. “Lucifer’s power was second only to Satan’s before he died; being born as Satan’s son will only make him stronger.” Like most archangels, Metatron rarely put away his wings, and now the silver wingtips that matched the streaks in his dark hair fluttered at his feet. “Worse, the rare reincarnation of any fallen angel results in fractures in Heaven’s very foundation.”
“But Lucifer isn’t just any angel,” Raphael said, his voice going hoarse as the implications of Lucifer’s rebirth sank in. “His birth will cause cataclysmic events in Heaven. Quakes. Floods. Volcanic eruptions. Angels and humans in Heaven will be caught in the disasters and die, lost forever.”
Lorelia asked, “How does Harvester fit in with this?”
“She’s Satan’s daughter,” Reaver told Lorelia. “Feeding Lucifer her blood can only make him stronger.”
“She’s not just his daughter,” Metatron reminded them grimly. “She’s the only one of his children conceived while he was still an angel. Even though she’s fallen, her blood will give Lucifer some talents and powers that are usually exclusive only to Heavenly angels.”
“We have to find and destroy Gethel before Lucifer is born,” Raphael, angel of the freaking obvious, said.
“And how do you propose to do that?” Lorelia asked.
Metatron and Raphael looked stumped, but Reaver had an idea that could not only take care of Lucifer but could force the archangels to do what they should have done months ago.
“We’ll have to spring Harvester from Satan’s prison.”
“Absolutely not,” Raphael barked.
Metatron snorted. “Impossible. Any rescue attempt on our part will confirm Heaven’s role in her espionage against Satan, and it’ll start a war—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Reaver interrupted. “A war between Heaven and hell will mean death, destruction, and rivers running with angel blood, blah, blah.”
Funny how the archangels were concerned about this war when they hadn’t been all that worried about an apocalypse in the human realm. But then, most angels liked to bury their heads in the clouds and pretend humans and demons didn’t exist.
“It’s wrong that she’s imprisoned,” Reaver argued. “She was helping our side.”
Raphael shook his head. “She was well aware that if she was ever caught, she’d go down as a lone wolf who was working her own evil agenda. Her cover was blown, she got caught, and it’s over.”
“I still don’t understand,” Lorelia said. A summoned copy of A History of the Watchers of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse popped into her hand, and she immediately started flipping through it. Yup, scholar. “How will rescuing Harvester help our cause?”
Reaver chose his words carefully. Raphael and Metatron needed to believe Reaver had no ulterior motive. That he didn’t want to rescue Harvester in part so he could piece together the past he’d lost when his memories of being Yenrieth were ripped from his mind. He’d asked for his memory back, over and over, but he’d been met with refusal every time.