His breath caught when he saw the grape-sized rough crystal in his hand. He’d seen only one in his thirty years of memories, and that one was in his possession, lifted off Gethel a few months back.
He ran his thumb over the sheoulghul, a device that allowed angels to charge their powers in places angels couldn’t normally access a charge.
Like Sheoul.
But why would Raphael give him something like this? Did he want Reaver to go after Harvester?
Well, well. Weren’t archangels full of surprises. Reaver had no doubt the guy would deny helping Reaver in any way, but for now, he was going to take it as a sign.
A sign that pointed straight to hell.
Two
That hell was all fire and brimstone was a common misconception, and while there most certainly were areas of blistering heat and flames fifty stories tall, Harvester thought the freezing cold was much worse.
But that was because she was in a torture chamber whose blizzard-like atmosphere froze her lungs with every breath. Not that taking breaths was easy, given that she was facedown and being pressed between two blocks of ice.
Tomorrow she might be back in the fires, or she’d be tossed into a pit full of ravenous hellhounds, or she’d be impaled on a thick pole and put on display in Satan’s living room, where anyone who entered could do whatever they wished to her.
Those were the most pleasant of the thousands of scenarios she could be faced with.
She marshaled all her strength to take a breath, but what little air she took in felt like it consisted of tiny razor blades. Blood splashed from her nose and mouth, freezing almost instantly on her lips and skin.
A prickling sensation stung her neck muscles, which should have been frozen solid, and she knew she was no longer alone.
“Harvesssster.” Venom, one of Satan’s Torture Marshals, spoke in his silky, snakey voice. The yellow-skinned bastard’s shuffling footsteps came closer. “It’s time to move you.”
A shiver went through her. She hoped he’d move her to a cell where she’d get a few hours of rest and some food, but that happened so rarely that hoping was akin to dreaming. Most likely, she was in for more misery.
“On a ssscale of one to one hundred, I’ll bet your desssire to die is clossse to one hundred, yesss?”
One hundred? One million would be more accurate.
“Your father wantsss to sssee you.”
No. Oh… no. A single tear formed in her eye, freezing before it could fall.
“He isss having a feassst tonight. You will be the centerpiece on hisss table. Quite an honor.”
Forgive me for not being excited, but last time, I was the predinner entertainment, and then I was part of the meal.
“You also have a visitor.”
Visitor?
Another prickly sensation joined the first, and her gut twisted as a female voice filled the chamber. “Oh, my. You do look awful.”
Gethel. That bitch. The former angel had betrayed Heaven in the worst way, and now, if Harvester’s senses were working properly, it would seem that Gethel was pregnant with Harvester’s half sibling.
Daddy had been busy.
“I wanted to be the first to tell you that I will be giving birth to Lucifer.”
If Harvester could throw up, she would have. But there was nothing in her crushed belly. Lucifer’s rebirth would send shockwaves through Heaven. Literal shockwaves that would cause death and destruction.
“And this is where you come in.” Gethel cleared her throat as if preparing to give a speech. “He’ll be born full-grown. The birth, of course, will kill me, but I’ll die a glorious death, don’t you think?”
Glorious? No. But with any luck Gethel would suffer the way she deserved.
“You, Harvester, will nourish him when he’s born. Instead of milk, he’ll need blood. And instead of being cradled in the arms of his mother, he’ll be cradled between your welcoming thighs. And when he’s finished with you, he will destroy everything you hold dear. The Horsemen. Their children.” Her voice dropped to a low growl. “Reaver.”
That was where Gethel was wrong. Harvester did not hold Reaver dear. She hated him, and if she never saw him again it would be too soon. Okay, yes, she’d always been fiercely attracted to him and certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed for picking his teeth with bones, but she still hated him.
He’d stirred those dual desires from the day they’d met at Ares’s Greek manor. He’d been assigned as the Horsemen’s Heavenly Watcher shortly before Reseph’s Seal broke and initiated the demon bible’s apocalyptic prophecy. He’d flashed onto Ares’s beach, and Harvester had zapped him with a bolt of lightning before he’d fully materialized.