Reaver(95)

So while she hoped there was a way out of this mess, she wasn’t going to count on it.

She used to believe in fate. She’d been sure that she and Yenrieth were soul mates. Now she wasn’t sure of anything.





Twenty-Nine





Reaver was still reeling with Harvester’s revelations as they dressed, his mind churning with a million different things.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Harvester asked.

“I got an apartment in New York when I was fallen the first time.” He shrugged. “Kept it when I got my wings back. You never know when you’re going to need to get away from prying eyes. Besides, do you know how hard it is to find a decent sized apartment with a view and parking in Manhattan? I’m never giving that sucker up.”

“Smart,” she mused. “So what now?”

“Now, I’m going to see Ares.”

“You have a lot to catch up on with your sons.”

Yes, but that wasn’t why he was going. “Can you give me a lift?”

Man, he hated asking for shit that, as an angel, was so simple, but in an instant, they were inside Ares and Cara’s Greek mansion. The two of them were half-clothed and rolling around on the floor.

“Ah…” Reaver cleared his throat.

Cara screamed and grabbed a throw from off the couch to cover up. A young hellhound rushed into the room, skidded across the floor, and crashed into a marble pedestal. The pedestal toppled, sending the two books on display tumbling onto the tiles. Ares cursed and stood, blocking his wife from view. At least he had on shorts.

“There’s a thing called a door,” he said flatly. “It comes complete with a doorbell, and it’s right behind you.”

Harvester snorted. “You know I don’t knock or ring doorbells. Also, I’m your new Watcher. Be nice.”

Ares bent to pick up the copy of the Daemonica that landed near his feet. “Switching teams hasn’t improved your temperament, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she drawled.

So getting her halo back hadn’t changed everything. Reaver kind of liked that, but he still drew her aside before the fur started flying. He carefully picked up the Bible off the floor and set it on the coffee table as Ares and Cara discreetly dressed.

“I’m going to ask Ares to—”

“The Bible.” Harvester grasped his wrist as if he hadn’t spoken. “I got it! Oh, damn, Reaver, I thought of a way out of this mess with Raphael.”

His heart kicked into high gear. “How?”

She bounced on her toes excitedly. “He can’t kill you. He lied about that.” At what must have been a perplexed expression on his face, she explained. “You’re the Horsemen’s father. Their father is supposed to break their Seals when it comes time for the biblical Apocalypse.”

He inhaled sharply. “You’re right. He wouldn’t dare kill me and interfere with such a history-altering prophecy that favors Heaven in the Final Battle.” Yes. He lowered his voice so Ares and Cara wouldn’t hear the rest. “He can’t force you to be his consort… at least, not with that threat. But there’s still the issue with Limos’s baby. He’s still got you over a barrel.”

“But only for sex.”

Only. There was no such thing as only sex. Not when it was Harvester with anyone but Reaver.

“You can’t let him know you’re aware that he can’t kill me, or he’ll use the baby as leverage to get both sex and your consent to a mating ceremony.”

“So what do we do?”

“Stall for time.”

“Reaver, we don’t have much time.” She pegged him with serious eyes. “I’m going to give Limos her baby back, even if it means—”

“I know what it means,” he growled, and a searing, almost uncontrollable anger flared in his chest. Harvester was his, and the thought of her fucking Raphael was enough to make his head explode. “We’ll find a way to get you out of fucking him. Just… stall.”

Harvester nodded and flashed away in a sparkle of light.

“So what’s this about?” Ares asked, as Reaver turned back to him. Cara had slipped away, but the clumsy hellhound had remained to keep an eye on Ares. The things were rarely more than a few seconds away from either one of them, and they always sensed when an angel was near. Ex-angels, too, apparently.

“I need you to summon Revenant.”

Ares’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t ask any questions. He merely called out with both formal protocol, and a less formal, “Yo, Rev. Get your ass over here.” He grinned. “Revenant hates informality. He’s a stickler for the rules. You two would really not get along.”