“We didn’t get along for the five minutes we were both Watchers together,” Reaver muttered. Not to mention the five minutes of ass-kicking Revenant had given him in Gethel’s Sheoulic palace.
Ares scratched the hellhound’s ears. “He was pissed about what Lorelia did to Limos. He reported her to his Watcher Council and recommended execution as punishment. It won’t happen, but he tried.”
Well, that was unexpected. But then, a Watcher’s duty included making sure the other Watcher didn’t screw up. “He was probably more interested in seeing an angel die than in avenging Limos.”
Ares shrugged. “His motives don’t interest me. I’m just glad he did it.” He looked past Reaver, and the hound snarled. “Speak of the fallen angel. White hair today, huh?”
Damn, but Reaver missed the warning tingle that accompanied the arrival of another angel or powerful supernatural being. It was going to take some time to get used to his Unfallen status again.
“Oh, look,” Revenant said. “It’s the newly fallen angel everyone in the underworld is trying to find.” He strode over, his boots clomping on the hard tiles, his leather pants and jacket creaking with every step. “If I took you to the Dark Lord right now, I’d be the richest male in Sheoul.”
“Touch him,” Ares said, “and you’ll live the rest of your sorry life looking over your shoulder.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Revenant said, sounding utterly bored. “The wrath of the Horsemen will come down on me. Every hellhound in Sheoul will be hunting me, blah-fuckity-blah. Don’t worry your little pony heads about it.” He punched Reaver in the shoulder. “Your father is off-limits for Watchers to grab, torture, kill, or molest in any way. Not that I’d molest him. I like my bedmates with bigger breasts and fewer balls.”
“What a relief,” Reaver said dryly.
Revenant grinned, flashing fangs as shiny and white as the hair that fell past his shoulders. “I knew you’d appreciate that. But a word of advice. You’re only off limits while you’re in the human realm. Step into Sheoul, and Satan will want you. Watcher rules or not, I can’t disobey his command.” He turned to Ares. “Why did you summon me?”
“I asked him to,” Reaver said. “I need to know what can stop Satan from starting a war with Heaven.”
“The war you put into motion? That one?” Revenant shrugged. “You can’t do anything. You fucked up.”
Which was why Reaver needed to stop it. And now they had only days to do it.
Ares strode over to the wet bar and poured a shot of whiskey. “Reaver, why the hell would you think Revenant would help you with this?” He held up the bottle. “Anyone?”
Ares must be seriously grateful to Revenant for what he’d recommended to his Watcher Council, because he wasn’t usually so free with niceties for the evil Watchers.
“Hells, yeah,” Revenant said.
Reaver, to be contrary, turned it down and returned to the subject at hand. “I was hoping he’d want to prevent a battle that could rage on for centuries and destroy both our worlds.”
Revenant took a glass from Ares and knocked back half the contents. “Maybe the prospect of war excites me.”
“Maybe,” Reaver said. “But I’ve learned enough about demons in my time to know that most of them aren’t gung ho for war. They want to live their lives, the same as everyone else.”
“I’m not a demon.”
Not technically, but sometimes being a demon had more to do with behavior than DNA. Reaver knew a lot of decent demons… and a lot of humans who were far more evil than almost anyone who lived in Sheoul.
“You’re a fallen angel who must want to protect someone you cared about in Heaven before you fell,” Reaver said.
Revenant shrugged. “If I ever cared about anyone there, I don’t remember, so preventing your war is none of my concern.”
“You don’t remember?” Ares came around the bar with his glass and the bottle of whiskey. “Are you that old?”
“No idea. My memory was taken from me.”
And here Reaver thought he was special. “Why? Who’d you sleep with?”
“Dunno—” Revenant went taut, as if every muscle had turned to stone, and the glass in his hand shattered. “I… have to go,” he rasped.
“Wait.” Reaver grasped Revenant’s arm, and a sense of familiarity rippled through him, as if a memory was on the verge of coming to life. Had they known each other in the past? “Why did you let me lift the collar key off you?”