Reaching for her, he took her hand. “But you stayed strong, and in the end you managed to do exactly what you set out to do. You saved the world, Harvester. Don’t let the what-ifs drive you crazy.”
“I’m not. But what about Revenant?”
He blinked at the sudden change of focus. “What about him?”
“He’s lost. He just found out he’s an angel. An angel who was forsaken by the people who should be welcoming him. And now that he knows the truth about himself, he’s struggling with who he was, who he is, who he wants to be, and who he thinks he should be. He doesn’t know if he’s good, evil, both… I know how that feels, and I know it can send you down a road to the wrong place.”
Baffled by her out-of-character compassion for someone she hated, Reaver just stared. “Why do you care?”
She laughed, but she sounded tired. “I don’t. He’s a jackass.” Her fingers were warm as she squeezed his hand. “I care for you. He’s your brother, and no matter what I think of him, I know that if you don’t try to help him down the right path, you’ll regret it forever.”
“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”
She gave another haughty sniff. “Of course I know that.”
Nope, the transformation from fallen angel to haloed angel hadn’t changed Harvester a bit. He shifted, putting his face to the salty breeze. “How are you feeling?”
“You mean, is Lucifer sucking my energy?” She shook her head. “I can barely feel him at all. I’m feeling better, in fact.” He thought she might be lying, but then she smiled, the sultry one that made his blood run south and his brain stop functioning. “Now, let’s go home and I’ll show you how much better I’m feeling.”
There was nothing he’d like more, but there was something he had to do first. “Rain check? I need to speak with the archangels.”
“Hurry,” she said in her husky bedroom voice. “Or I’ll start without you.”
Erotic images flooded his brain, and he groaned. No doubt this was going to be the briefest meeting in angel history.
Thirteen
“Fuck me, Revenant.”
Blaspheme’s husky voice rolled through Revenant in a silken caress. Naked, she lay beneath him, thighs parted, her sex glistening with honey as she waited for him to sink his hard cock into her tight sheath.
It was about damned time. He could take her now, get her out of his system, and move on to his next conquest.
He frowned. Why didn’t his usual pattern sound so easy this time?
“Fuck me, Revenant,” she repeated.
Reaching down, she fingered herself, and he damned near came. He’d been with a lot of females in his life, but none of them made him feel as though he needed to be inside them or he’d die. Just fall over dead.
“Anything for you, babe.” He mounted her, guiding his cock to her dripping entrance, but before he could sink into her slippery heat, she slapped her palms against his chest.
“Be careful of your wound.”
His wound? He looked down, saw the bandage wrapped around his torso. How had that happened?
“That’s what happens when you let emotion rule. That’s what happens when you start thinking you belong in Heaven. That’s what happens when you think you can be happy.” She was rambling now, her words coming faster and faster. “That’s what happens when you deal with archangels. That’s what happens when you confide in your brother.”
“No,” he croaked. “That’s not… that’s not how it happened.” How was she tapping into his thoughts and dreams he didn’t even know he had?
“That’s what happens when you remember your mother. That’s what happens when you realize she suffered for nothing. That’s what happens when you understand what a disappointment you were to her. She sent Reaver to Heaven because he was the good twin. She didn’t even give you a proper name.”
Rearing back, he covered his ears. “No!” His breath burned in his throat as he said it over and over. “No, no, no… noooo!”
Suddenly, Blaspheme was gone, and he was panting as he lay on a strange bed in a strange room. How the ever-living fuck had he gotten here? And where was here?
Forcing himself to calm down, he inhaled slowly. Blaspheme’s clean scent filled his nostrils, and things started to come back to him.
He’d been wounded… he slapped his hand on his torso, felt the very real bandages under his palm. So that part wasn’t a dream. She’d sewn him up, cared for him, tucked him into bed. Reaching over onto the other side of the mattress, he felt for warmth, but if she’d been there, she was long gone.