He whipped the pilfered vial from his pocket, tackled the Horseman, and pinned him to the ground with his hand around Than’s throat. While the big male cursed and bucked, Rev scooped blood into the vial and capped it with one hand before leaping away.
He’d just broken a major rule. The knowledge left him dizzy, panting as if he’d run a marathon, which was probably why he didn’t sense the danger.
He barely felt the warning tingle before he was lifted off his feet by an unseen force and hurled into the same wall the hellhound had hit. But Revenant’s body plowed through it, his bones shattering along with the stones. He fell heavily to the ground, the agony of his bones knitting back together knocking him off balance as Reaver and Harvester strode toward him, their expressions matching masks of rage.
They both hit him with blasts of power – Harvester’s loaded with fire, Reaver’s a concussion wave that blew out his eardrums and turned his organs to jelly as his skin burned. He screamed with the pain of it, his vision going dark as his eyes melted.
“I warned you, Revenant,” Reaver growled. “I warned you that if you harmed my family in any way, I’d come at you in every way I know how.”
As his body healed, they hit him with another blast, and another, keeping the injuries and pain constant so he couldn’t recover fast enough to strike back. With every drop of concentration he could muster, he thought about Blaspheme, pictured her heart-shaped face and brilliant blue eyes, and flashed to her.
“Oh, bloody hell.”
“What the fuck?”
“Shit, not again!”
At the cacophony of voices, Blaspheme looked up from the pile of garbage she was sweeping off the cafeteria floor. Gasping, she dropped the broom, and stood there, stunned.
Revenant was on one knee in the center of the room, his singed wings out but not extended, blood dripping down his face and body. Wisps of smoke curled in thin tendrils from his clothes as he unfurled to his full, impressive height.
“Revenant!” She ran to him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
He opened his palm to reveal a small vial containing a few drops of what she assumed was blood.
“Thanatos was… uncooperative.”
“Oh, Gods, Revenant,” she said. “I’m so sorry —”
“It’s okay. Nothing I can’t handle. I’m nearly healed already.”
“I wasn’t talking about the injuries.”
His black, bloodshot eyes locked onto hers, and for the next thirty seconds, all she could do was think that of all the females he could look at like that, he’d chosen her.
“Don’t be sorry, Blaspheme.” His voice was throaty, as smoky as his clothing. “Whatever consequences my actions have earned, I’ll be glad to pay them.”
Her eyes burned and she didn’t know what to say… and it turned out she didn’t need to say anything, because abruptly, Revenant shifted into battle mode. Expression stony and body taut, he went for the Pruosi spellbook and slapped the vial of blood down on the table.
“You sure this will work?” he asked.
She flipped to the page that went into the details of the procedure. “It should. All I need is DNA from whatever species I’m going to disguise myself as. We’ve got False Angel DNA samples in storage, so I can maintain my cover —”
“You’ve got to disguise yourself as something else. And you’ll need to get a new job.”
She stared at him. “Are you high? I’m not leaving UG.”
“You have to.” He jammed his hand through his lush hair. “Satan is onto you.”
“Funny, Rev.” When he didn’t smile, her heart seized. “Wait… you aren’t kidding, are you?” Satan was onto her? Satan?
Revenant inhaled a shaky breath, held it, then exhaled softly. “It’s my fault. I led him to you, and now he wants to use you to ensure my loyalty. The only way you’ll be safe is if you get a new identity and a new life.”
There had been a time when getting a new identity and a new life was a regular event, but she’d put down roots here, and she couldn’t give that up. “I can’t do that. I’ve put everything into this job. This place. These people. This is my life, Revenant.”
“And it’ll be your death if you stay.”
She sank numbly into a chair. “This is unbelievable. I’m always going to be the worm, aren’t I?”
“The worm?”
“The one that doesn’t turn into a butterfly. I knew that re-disguising myself as a False Angel again wouldn’t be me, exactly, but at least I know what to expect. I’ve felt like an angel… of sorts. Now I’m going to be trapped again, inside a body I don’t want.”