Reaver(51)

Revenant contemplated extra butter on his popcorn as in a blur of motion, Limos went after Lorelia. The angel flashed out of the way and materialized behind her.

The next few seconds were a shock of thunderous booms and flashing light as Lorelia hit Limos with a blast of acid fire before following up with blows for Ares and Reseph when they tried to help their sister.

Revenant dove to the ground to avoid the aftershock of a particularly powerful downburst of Angel Storm. Shit, that bitch was out of control. Screw the popcorn; she’d have scorched the shit out of it.

Summoning his own power, he rolled to his feet, prepared to defend himself. But the scene he was faced with… unholy hell. He stood, stunned, as he took in the carnage. Lorelia, her arm bleeding from what looked like a bite from the dead hellhound a few feet away, crouched next to Limos, her palm hovering over the Horsewoman’s abdomen. She and her brothers had been… demolished. They’d heal in time, of course, but right now every one of them had been pulverized.

Revenant once told them he could blow them up inside their armor and pour them out like a liquid.

Lorelia had just done that.

Fury built in his chest. “Lorelia! We have rules.” He stalked her, the anger bubbling up and getting hotter with every step. “You can’t wreck the Horsemen just because they piss you off. You broke the rules.”

She came to her feet and didn’t meet his gaze as she tucked something into her pocket. Then, before he could grab her, she flashed away. But that didn’t mean she was getting away.

Rules meant order. Without order there was chaos, and unlike most Sheoul denizens, Revenant hated chaos.

So Lorelia was going to pay for what she’d done to the Horsemen. Not because he liked them, but because what she’d done to them was against the rules. And rules must be followed.

But so must orders, and after he found Lorelia and beat the truth of why she’d made toast of the Horsemen out of her, he had an appointment to make. An appointment he dreaded.

With Satan.



The emergency department was slammed.

Medical staff rushed to triage incoming patients, mostly innocent victims of Satan’s armies as they chewed a path through Sheoul. From what Eidolon could gather, the armies were both searching for “Satan’s renegade daughter” and preparing for a battle with Heaven. Refugees were fleeing Sheoul if they could, and if they couldn’t, they were holing up and trying to keep out of the path of the Dark Lord’s war machine.

Apparently, Satan’s troops didn’t differentiate between friend and enemy when they were on the move, and the ED was stretched beyond its limits with survivors. The hospital hadn’t been this packed since the apocalyptic events brought about by Pestilence. Even the parking lot was once again packed with the wounded.

Gem, his mate’s twin sister, jogged up to him with a clipboard, her black and blue hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head, exposing the enchanted tattoo around her neck that helped keep her from shifting from her human form to her demon one.

“Remember that wolf shifter you treated last week?” she asked. “And the month before that? She’s back. Broken leg. I think her mate might be responsible, but she won’t say much.”

The Justice demon in him clawed at his chest, battling with the doctor he’d become. The winner would be the doctor though; the patient’s injuries came first. The mate could be dealt with later. That was Wraith’s specialty.

“I’ll check her out.” Eidolon took the clipboard, but before he could glance at the patient’s paperwork, the emergency room’s Harrowgate flashed, and a mostly human male, Arik, burst out of it. His mate, Limos, was in his arms.

At least, Eidolon assumed it was Limos. The female looked like she’d gone through a paper shredder before being glued back together by a blind person.

“Help,” he croaked. “Help her.”

Eidolon shoved the clipboard at Gem. “Have Grim handle the shifter.” The Sem, one of Tavin’s brothers, hadn’t been here long, but the guy had a powerful healing ability, and Eidolon trusted him to be sensitive to abused females.

“You got it.” Gem took off as Eidolon sprang into action, ushering Arik to the closest open exam room.

Blaspheme joined them, holding Limos’s head as Eidolon helped Arik settle what was left of the Horseman onto a table. Gods, she was messed up. He’d been a doctor for decades and had never seen anything like this.

“What happened?” Eidolon let Blas perform the ABC’s—airway, breathing, and circulation—but the procedure was more protocol than necessary in this instance. Limos was immortal. Fucked up beyond recognition, but immortal.