Reaver (40 page)

force of it. He thought of Harvester, and how they’d finally found each other… but was it too late?

“Be careful,” she said to both of them. “I’ll send some hounds.”

“If these are Satan’s forces, the hounds won’t fight,” Reaver said.

“I know.” Cara patted Ares on his boiled-leather breastplate. “But they’ll defend. And they look

really scary.”

Reaver laughed despite the seriousness of the situation. “They are that.”

Ares cast a personal Harrowgate, and with a wave to Cara, Reaver entered with the Horseman… and

stepped out into complete chaos.

Thirty

Reaver stood on the outer wall of Thanatos’s keep, looking out at the charred remains of the evil army

that had besieged them. The battle had been tough, but brief… which meant this had been a

demonstration of intent, rather than a full-scale assault on Reaver’s loved ones.

But tough, he knew, was a matter of perspective. With no powers, Reaver had been forced to fight

with his hands. He was good at it, more than a match for a similarly sized demon, but… he’d hated the

way everyone felt as though they needed to protect him.

He felt like such a failure, unable to contribute much to battle. Even Thanatos’s vampire servants

had been of more help. Just a day ago Reaver could have crushed any one of them like an insect under

his boot.

Now he was the bug waiting for a foot. A foot that was coming for him soon. The attack had made

that clear. It had made a lot of things clear, and as he gazed out at the sparse vegetation surrounding

the countryside where Thanatos’s children would play, Reaver knew what he had to do.

Footsteps approached, and Reaver turned to see Thanatos and Ares top the stone steps that led to the

wall walkway. No longer armed, Ares was in the blue board shorts he’d worn at his manor, and

Thanatos was in workout pants and a T-shirt. The 3-D tattoos that covered him from chin to toe

shimmered on his skin as he walked.

“Got a text from Limos,” Than said. “Underworld General is safe. Minor casualties.” He smirked.

“Eidolon refuses to help the injured enemies. Funny, I’m always torn between wanting to kill that guy

and wanting to high-five him.”

“I know what you mean,” Reaver muttered. “All Sems have that effect.”

Than snorted. “I’ve noticed. Which reminds me that I need to text Wraith and cancel our playdate

for the kids today.”

Reaver just shook his head. It was so bizarre that Thanatos found the most exasperating of the Sem

brothers to be the least annoying. Even more bizarre was hearing the Horseman known as Death

talking about playdates.

“Never thought I’d say I was glad to see Harvester show up,” Ares said. “Man, she smoked that ice

troll.”

Reaver tried not to be petty and bitter about the fact that he’d barely been able to make the ice troll

flinch.

“Yeah,” Than said, “but wasn’t that against Watcher rules?”

Reaver glanced down into the courtyard at the troll, which hadn’t dissolved into a greasy stain yet.

In the human realm all demons that didn’t appear human would, upon death, dissappear. But rate of

disintegration varied depending on species and where they died.

“She didn’t violate Watcher rules,” Reaver said. “This wasn’t about Horsemen. It was about the

conflict between Sheoul and Heaven.”

“Exactly.” Harvester appeared next to Reaver in a glittering shimmer of light, and instant lust

kindled in his groin at the sight of her in a short black leather skirt, a black leather bra top, and thigh-

high fuck-me boots. Damn, he was happy that her taste in clothing had survived the transition from

fallen angel to angel.

“But I’ll still get in trouble.” A breeze made her ebony hair swirl around her slender shoulders, and

Reaver’s fingers flexed with the desire to wrap her silky locks around his hands and hold her for a

sensual onslaught. “I’m not supposed to be on the front lines, since I’ll be a target for capture or kill.”

“Then why are you here?” Ares asked. “It’s a foolish risk. You never expose your most important

assets to the enemy. That’s how wars are lost.”

“Foolish?” Harvester cocked a dark eyebrow. “I swore an oath to watch over you. Not to put up with

your shit. I’m not evil anymore, but I’m still not nice. Keep that in mind.”

Well,
that
wasn’t going to help the relationship between Harvester and the Horsemen at all. “He’s

right,” Reaver said before Ares could blow his stack. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Would you have come?” she shot back. He didn’t need to answer that, and she knew it. “Thought

so.” She looked past Reaver at Than and Ares. “Boys, can I have a minute with your father?”

Warmth engulfed Reaver at the way she’d said
your father
. His family had begun with one

impulsive roll in the grass with a demon, but Reaver couldn’t be sorry. The Horsemen’s existence had

caused countless tragedies and measureless destruction, but angelic intuition told Reaver everything

had happened the way it was supposed to.

Than and Ares left, miraculously without an argument, leaving Reaver in the cool Greenland breeze

with the female he wanted to prop against the battlements and ravish. The burn of battle still rushed

through his veins, heightening his senses and laying a fine line between bloodlust and good old-

fashioned sexual lust.

Fuck it. He wasn’t an angel anymore, didn’t have to play nice. Not that he ever had.

Before Harvester could so much as blink, he lifted her onto a merlon and stepped between her legs

to kiss her.

“Now this,” she murmured against his mouth, “is the way to come down from a fight.”

He couldn’t agree more, and while she tore open his jeans, he shoved up her skirt. They didn’t waste

time with foreplay; this was going to be raw and swift, as much a needed release of tension as a way to

mark his female in a way she’d never forget.

Because this would be the last time.

He entered her in a powerful surge that made them both cry out. He didn’t pause, didn’t let either of

them get accustomed to her tightness or his size. There was only a single, driving instinct to possess.

As if she felt his desperation, she clung to his neck with her arms and wrapped her legs so tightly

around his hips that he couldn’t have broken free if he’d wanted to.

He thrust against her, fueled by the way she met every pump of his hips with a frantic roll of hers.

And when she whispered hot, dirty things in his ear, things she wanted to do him and that she wanted

him to do to her, he nearly short-circuited with lust. She wanted to do
what
with a pair of stiletto

heels? Harvester might have a halo, but dear, sweet Lord, she was no angel in the sack.

Awesome.

Voices drifted from below, but he wouldn’t have cared if they were coming from a few feet away.

Nothing was stopping him, nothing was getting between him and the female he loved. Not yet. Right

now, in this very moment, she was his, and he didn’t share.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh… yes.” She wedged her hand between their bodies and cupped his balls. A

wicked vibration hummed through his sac and up his shaft, and holy…
damn
, he nearly went over the

edge.

“I’m glad,” he said between panting breaths, “that you still have that power.”

“Oh,” she purred, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Groaning, he melded their mouths together as he rocked against her. Sweat broke out all over his

body and his pulse drummed loudly in his ears. They were out in the open, in a precarious position and

right there for anyone to see, but it was perfect. He had no doubt that no matter where or when he and

Harvester made love, it would always be perfect.

Except that it wouldn’t happen again.

Harvester clung to him as if she heard his thoughts, her nails digging into his back. Stiffening, she

clenched around him and let out a keening cry of sheer pleasure. Her core rippled along his cock as

she came, and he was done for.

The orgasm tore him in two. He threw his head back and roared her name, engulfed in an churning

maelstrom of ecstasy that went on and on. Harvester came again, arching her spine so violently that

she tipped backward, her upper body hanging perilously forty feet above the ground. Panicked even

though he knew the fall wouldn’t kill her, he gripped her thighs tight as her wings shot out, leaving her

supported on a raft of air. He hissed with pleasure, the crazy position forcing him so deep inside her

that he swore he felt her soul.

“Mine,” he moaned. Another release gathered, his come boiling in his shaft as his balls pulsed,

filling her again. “You’ve always been mine.”

Harvester panted through yet another climax, and this time when she finished, she sagged in his

arms and let him haul her back up onto the castle wall.

“Oh, Reaver,” she whispered against his chest. “Our lives have been so fucked up.”

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you as Yenrieth,” he murmured into her hair.

“But will you still be sorry if you remember?” She pulled back, creating distance between them he

wasn’t ready for yet. “You’re okay with what you remember so far, but you’re still missing so much.

What happens if you remember more to hate me for?”

“Is there more?”

“No.” Her lips flattened into a thin, grim line. “But with all the blanks filled in, maybe it’ll change

how you feel.”

“I don’t see that happening, but if it does, we’ll work through it.” Shit, now she’d gotten him to talk

as if they had a future together.

A wave of doubt came off her, and it occurred to him that even if he’d found a way for them to be

together, she’d never fully trust him. Not until he got his memories back and dealt with what he and

Verrine had gone through.

But none of that mattered, and reluctantly, he withdrew from Harvester’s warm body.

“Reaver?” She jerked her skirt down and watched him with growing alarm. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “I’m still working on a way for us to be together.”

“You need to hurry. I have to go to Raphael in a few hours.”

“I know.” He cupped her cheek, committing her soft skin to memory. “I know I have no right to ask

you this, especially after everything you’ve done for me already.” He inhaled her scent, memorizing

that, as well. “But if anything happens to me, I need you to promise to take care of the Horsemen.”

“Of course.” She frowned. “You know I will.”

“And Limos’s baby.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were liquid with unshed tears. “I swear to you,

I’ll make sure she gets her baby back. But I will hate Raphael forever.”

“That,” he said, “I can deal with.”

The idea that she’d hate Raphael made the fact that she was going to have to have sex with him

tolerable. Okay, not tolerable. Not even close. The mere thought made him want to rip the archangel’s

head off and shove it up a Gerunti demon’s slimy ass.

Because the reality was that after Limos’s child was restored to her, Harvester wouldn’t be off the

hook with Raphael. There was no way the bastard was going to sit idly by and let her get away. He’d

gone to extremes to get her. Without Reaver’s life to hold over her head, he’d find another way, and

Harvester would once again be blackmailed into being with him.

Damn, but he hoped she’d make his life a living hell.

Abruptly, shame washed over him. In the fantasyland of his head, the prospect of her hating

Raphael forever was awesome. But Harvester deserved better. She deserved to be happy and to be in

love. He’d rather she grew to love Raphael—the fucking bastard—than live for eternity with someone

she hated.

And wasn’t that just magnanimous as all hell, he thought sourly.

“Why are you asking me this?” Harvester rubbed her face against his palm. “Nothing is going to

happen to you. We know Raphael won’t kill you—”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to let you go, and you know it. He’ll blackmail you with

something else, and you’ll be forced to accept his offer.”

“I’ll find a way out of it,” she swore. “I won’t stop looking for a way to be free of him.”

“You’ll have to give your word, Verrine,” Reaver said, reminding her of who she was, who she’d