Revenant scowled. “I didn’t.” He leaned and then righted himself, the unsteady sway of a drunk man. Even his gaze had gone glassy. “I… why did I do that?”
Then he was gone, leaving Reaver with more questions than he’d started with.
“That was weird.” Ares snapped his fingers at the hellhound who rushed over to see if the broken glass was edible. The beast got a quick lick of whiskey before sullenly slinking away. “Damned mutts will eat anything. Cara is always dealing with grumpy-ass hellhounds and their bellyaches.”
“They get grumpier?”
Ares snorted. “You have no idea—”
Suddenly, Ares was armed and armored, and the hellhound that just took off with its tail tucked was back, crouched in the doorway with its hind legs gathered and ready to launch. Reaver wheeled around to come face to face with Gethel’s image. Like last time, when she’d appeared at Than’s place, she was a phantom, completely protected by the spawn in her belly.
“I’m really getting sick of this new power of yours, Gethel,” Ares growled.
“Yes, well, I’ve been sick of you for decades.”
“Why are you here?” Reaver asked, his teeth clenched so hard they hurt. “Or not here.”
“I have an offer for Reaver.” She stepped closer, her eyes glittering with anticipation, and Reaver knew the offer was going to be a sucky one with a high price. “Arrange for Raphael to meet you at the Dome of the Rock tomorrow at dawn. If you agree, Satan will call off the war.”
“What happens to Raphael?”
Gethel’s smile was so cold Reaver’s spinal fluid froze. “That,” she said, “is none of your concern.”
“Tell me what Satan wants with him,” he shot back, so not in the mood to deal with vague offers and secret agendas.
“Let’s just say there’s a score to settle.”
Man, it was tempting. Raphael had screwed with Reaver’s life hard, had forced Harvester to torture him, and had blackmailed her into becoming his mate. Getting that archangel bastard out of the way would be awesome.
But it would also make Reaver a traitor. And as much as he hated Raphael, the archangel was an angel, and while Reaver might play fast and loose with Heavenly rules, he would never betray Heaven to Satan.
“Well?” Gethel huffed. “I don’t have all day.” She cranked her head around in an Exorcist move and hissed at Ares. “Keep your mutts back, or I’ll burst their skulls like popcorn.”
Ares barked out a command, and the five hellhounds that had been stalking Gethel halted midstep. They couldn’t harm her, but clearly, Gethel had a thing against hellhounds.
Could she really kill them even if she was no more substantial than a ghost? If so, Lucifer had grown unbelievably strong. Not good.
Gethel jammed her fists on her hips and pivoted back to Reaver. “Your answer, Fallen.”
She must be loving this, the bitch. “My answer is no.”
“Think about this very carefully,” she said.
“I did. No.”
Her soiled wings shot up from her back, and the hounds growled. “Idiot! You will be condemning Heaven to a war it can’t win, which means it will spill over into the human realm.” Her wings quivered with her zealous excitement. “But before any of that happens, you, and everyone you care about, will pay for your foolish choice to not deliver Raphael to the Dark Lord.” She spat on the floor, and even though she wasn’t physically in the room, her wet spit splattered on the tiles. “You have until dawn.”
She disappeared, and Reaver cursed. He was so sick of the games both Heaven and Sheoul played with lives, the way they used loved ones to get what they wanted.
“So what are we going to do?” Ares’s gaze was steely, his stance squared and aggressive. He was ready for battle, and Reaver knew the Horseman would fight until his last breath if Reaver asked him to.
“We aren’t going to do anything.” Reaver scrubbed his hand over his face. Fuck, he was screwed. “I started this, and I’ll finish it. I can’t put anyone else at risk.”
Ares came over and laid a big hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about us. Just don’t do anything stupid, like rescuing Harvester and leaving us in the dark about it.” Irritation rumbled in Ares’s voice, but Reaver didn’t regret the choice he’d made to keep the Horsemen safe. “You’re our father, and we’ll do anything to help you. Especially if it means a chance to feed Gethel to the hellhounds.”
Reaver knew that, and he was grateful. But he also didn’t see any way for the Horsemen to help. He couldn’t hand an archangel over to the forces of evil, but he couldn’t risk his family, either.