Larissa Ione: Reaver

“We’re linked,” he whispered. “We’ll forever be able to find each other, no matter where in the universe we are.”

He’d been wrong. On the day he disappeared from Heaven and memories, she lost the ability to feel him. It was as if he’d never existed. She’d searched for him for years, had made a nuisance of herself by questioning everyone she thought might have answers, but she’d come up empty. Not even the archangels had offered up any explanations.

She supposed the fact that no one remembered Yenrieth could explain why, but someone had to know something. Only after she’d lost her wings and gone to Sheoul had she given up the search, but that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes wonder what had happened to him.

Gethel drained the goblet, and Harvester swore that an aura of power pulsed around her now, as oily and dark as a puddle of tar poison in Sheoul’s Boneyard region. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed contentedly.

“I’ll see you at supper,” Gethel said, all cheery. Harvester hoped Gethel was experiencing morning sickness. All day long.

Gethel slipped away as Venom tugged on the chain connected to Harvester’s ankles, and she slid off the bottom block, taking another layer of skin from her body. The pain kept her from feeling the landing on the floor, at least.

Harvester felt herself being dragged over uneven, rocky ground, and as her body thawed, her agony jacked higher.

For the ten millionth time, she replayed the moment, thousands of years ago, when she’d stood before three archangels and said, “I want you to kick me out of Heaven so I can infiltrate Sheoul as a spy and earn my way to being the Horsemen’s Watcher. I can work to subvert the Daemonica ’s version of the Apocalypse.”

The archangels had laughed until they realized she was serious. Raphael had thrown a full-blown angel tantrum that humans felt as a dust storm that swept across the Holy Land. And then Metatron and Uriel had joined in to try to talk her out of it, even as they agreed that if her plan worked, it would be the greatest Heavenly coup in history. If she failed, she’d suffer like no angel ever had.

Turned out that she’d succeeded… but she was still suffering like no angel ever had.

“The Dark Lord will break you tonight.” Venom dropped the chain and crouched next to her to grip her face in his scaly hands. “You will tell him how much Heaven knew about your actionsss.”

“Nothing,” she croaked. “I swear.” The lie came easily, which was, no doubt, why Satan didn’t believe her. Thousands of years of living in Sheoul had chipped away at the angel she once was and had made many things simple. Lying. Destroying. Killing.

All she’d ever wanted was to be good, so it was ironic that in order to do good, she’d had to become bad. She’d had to make everyone she cared about hate her. She’d had to lose everything, from her self-respect to her wings to her dreams of having friends and a family with Yenrieth, the only person she’d ever loved.

The only thing she had left was knowledge, and that was something she would hang onto until her last breath.

Life as she’d known it was over, but she could still do good. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut while enduring an eternity of torture.

Reaver was about to rush in where angels feared to tread. “I guess that really does make me a—”

“Fucking idiot.”

Reaver stared at Eidolon, Underworld General Hospital’s head doctor. “I prefer ‘fool.’ Also, only a fucking idiot would call an angel a fucking idiot.”

The demon doctor stared back, his dark eyes glittering with gold flecks. “A fool would merely consider entering hell without a plan. Only a fucking idiot would seriously intend to saunter into the Prince of Evil’s living room in the very center of hell to kidnap his little girl. Against orders. And without a plan.”

Harvester wasn’t a little girl, but the doctor had a point. Reaver had done a lot of insane, stupid things in his thousands of years of life, had broken more rules than he could count. But disobeying the archangels to rescue a fallen angel who happened to be Satan’s daughter was worse than all the other broken rules combined.

Well, impregnating Lilith, queen of the succubi, and fathering the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse five thousand years ago was right up there. He was still being punished for that.

If Reaver pulled off this newest stunt, he’d be lucky if he lost only his wings. And that was assuming he survived to lose his wings in the first place.

“I have a plan,” he muttered.

Eidolon parked a tray of surgical tools next to the exam table Reaver was sitting on inside the makeshift tent room in Underworld General’s parking lot. As an angel, Reaver couldn’t enter the hospital, so it was fortunate for him that the tent had been set up to handle the recent increase in patient volume.

“And your plan is?” Eidolon prompted.

“Ah… it mostly involves sneaking in and sneaking out.”

Wraith, Eidolon’s blond, blue-eyed brother, snorted. “Because you’re so subtle.” Reaver couldn’t believe those words had come out of Wraith’s mouth. Wraith, who was as subtle as a plane crash. Mr. Subtle pushed off the tent support he’d been leaning against. “So what’s in it for you?”

“I’ll have the personal satisfaction of knowing that if everything goes well, I’ll be preventing a Heavenly catastrophe.”

Wraith nailed him with his shrewd gaze, and Reaver knew instantly that the demon didn’t buy his reason for what he was planning.

But Mr. Subtle was also Mr. Contrary, and instead of calling Reaver out, he shrugged. “I’ll go with you.”

“As much as I’d appreciate your help, everyone in the underworld knows who you are.” Reaver cocked an eyebrow at the Seminus demon, a rare species of incubus that were human in appearance. “You’re a beacon for trouble.”

“Hey.” Wraith had a particular talent for playing wounded. “I saved the world. And I helped save it, like, a million times.”

“I love how he makes it sound like the rest of us sat around and drank beer while he was saving the planet.” Eidolon crossed his thick arms over his chest. On his right arm, his dermoire , a tattoo-like tapestry of paternal history every Seminus demon bore, blended in with his black scrubs.

“Do the Horsemen know about your dumbass nonplan?” Wraith asked, and Reaver stiffened.

“No.” He shot each of them a meaningful stare. Sin, the demon brothers’ only sister, rolled her dark eyes. “And I’m trusting you to not tell them.”

As expected, Eidolon gave a respectful, if reluctant, nod, and so did Sin, but Wraith could never make things easy.

“Why not?” he asked. “They’re the most powerful beings on Earth. And you’re their daddy. They’re going to want to help.”

“That’s why they can’t know,” Reaver said. “If they know what I’m planning, they’re going to either try to stop me or try to help me. Either way, there’s no force on Earth that can stop them once they get something into their collective heads. But there are forces in Heaven that can. And those forces will do whatever it takes to stop them from springing Harvester, including hurting their mates and children.”

Besides, they’d been through enough in the last few years. It was time for them to enjoy their lives with their new families.

“Then let us help,” Sin said. “Wraith has a neon arrow pointing to his little pin head, but your Heavenly bullies won’t recognize the rest of us.”

“You’d be surprised. But no, I won’t put any of you at risk.” He held up a hand to stop Wraith from saying what Reaver knew he was going to say. “I know your charm will keep you safe from most dangers in Sheoul, but if word gets out that any of you helped me, Underworld General itself will be a target for Satan’s minions.”