Revenant (21 page)

He tossed the bag of garbage and leftovers outside, and almost instantly, a dozen furry things she could only describe as raccoon-spiders scurried over and demolished the bag and its contents. The panel slid closed again, and she could just shake her head at the weirdness that was so normal to him.

She was so lucky her mother had chosen to raise her in the human world where, comparatively, very little was creepy.

“Revenant?”

He swung back around to her. “Yeah?”

“Why are you such a stickler for rules? I mean, I know you’re technically an angel, but you live and work in Sheoul. You were raised here. Sheoul is all about chaos and lawlessness. So why are rules so important to you?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and she suddenly knew this was related to his hellish childhood.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No.” He swallowed again. “I… want to. I don’t know why, but I do.” He made a beeline for the little portable bar in the corner, but before he reached it, he halted, head hung low, as if he couldn’t bear to take another step. “Is your False Angel magic acting on me? Is that why I suddenly have this burning desire to confide in you?”

“What? No. Of course not. This is
me
. Not some kind of enchantment.”

“But you
are
a False Angel. It’s in your nature to enchant and deceive.”

He had a point about a False Angel’s nature, but she had no idea how to convince him that she wasn’t using any False Angel abilities on him. Hell, she didn’t know if she even could anymore.

“As a False Angel,” she said, feeling strangely uncomfortable about saying that, “I can choose when to use my gifts and when not to. I swear to you, I’m not using them.”

He eyed her, and she found herself desperately wanting him to believe her. To trust her. And at the same time, shame was a weight in the center of her chest, because she wanted him to believe a lie.

How messed up was that?

And then the truth of the situation hit her so hard she almost took a step back. She was falling for him. Falling for a male who admitted to killing
vyrm
. And wasn’t that the perfect cap on this epically crappy day.

“I’ll take you at your word, Blaspheme,” Revenant said. “And I never do that, so don’t make me regret it.” Before her brain could process a response, he continued. “The rules,” he said, thankfully getting back to the topic at hand, “are important because breaking them always has serious consequences. My mother taught me that.”

“How well did you know her?” Blas had assumed he’d been raised alone in the cell he’d mentioned the other day.

“She… chose to stay behind with me after Reaver was taken,” he said. “She used to tell me that laws should be created sparingly, because the breaking of a law, even one that seems insignificant or stupid, has consequences. But I didn’t listen. I was a rebellious kid with Satan’s blood winging around inside me. My playground was a torture chamber, and my best friends were the same cell guards who tortured me.”

Blaspheme could only stare in horror. She’d thought her childhood on the run was bad, but she’d never complain again. Ever.

“Revenant, I’m so s —”

He cut her off with a
please don’t
gesture. She got it – she hated pity, too.

“So my mother tried to warn me. Pleaded with me to follow the demons’ orders and never disobey their laws. Of course I did everything I could to get into trouble. I didn’t give a shit that they beat me.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and looked down, his head hanging loosely from his hunched shoulders. “It didn’t occur to me that my mother had to watch it. And because it didn’t occur to me, I kept breaking rules. Then, one day, while I watched, they beat her instead. I didn’t mean to break rules after that, but sometimes… fuck.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face, and when he was done, he looked tired. Defeated.

Blaspheme’s heart bled for him. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of terror he must have felt watching his mother be abused for something he’d done. His guilt must eat at him like acid. Dying to comfort him in any way she could, she moved forward, but he backed up, clearly not wanting to be touched right now.

“How long did you have to live like that?” Gods, her voice was as unsteady as her emotions were right now. She wanted to cry for him. To scream in outrage. To kill the bastards who had done that to him and his mother.

“They took me away from her when I was ten,” he said. “Sent me to a mine to dig for magma crystals.”

Magma crystals, found only in Sheoul, were rare and precious, coveted by necromancers to use in powerful spells. By all accounts, the mining of them was so dangerous that no one volunteered to do it. Slave labor was the only way the things could be acquired.

“I tried to escape,” he continued in a raspy, tormented voice. “For ten years I tried to find a way to get back to my mother. What I didn’t know until later was that every time I made a break for it, she was hurt. Raped. All the usual stuff they do to females. So, yeah. You follow the fucking rules no matter what, because if you don’t, bad shit happens.”

Blaspheme’s throat felt raw, as if she were the one to have shared that horrible story. To have shared the screams that had no doubt been wrenched from him.

“Revenant,” she whispered.

His head came up with a snarl. “Don’t.”

Ignoring him, she moved forward, and again, he backed up. But this time, she didn’t stop until he hit the bedroom wall. He snarled again, baring his fangs. Like a wounded animal, his behavior was defensive, not aggressive, and she knew instinctively he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Easy.” Very slowly, she cupped his face between her hands and met his haunted gaze. “Thank you for telling me. You don’t have to say anything more. But if you want to, I’m here for you.”

His dark eyes roamed her face, searching, she assumed, for sincerity. Little by little, the last traces of resistance vanished, and he hauled her against him. His strong arms surrounded her, but she got the feeling it was she who was holding him up as he hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair, his body as stiff as a backboard.

They stood like that for a long time, until he finally murmured, “Are you for real, Blaspheme?”

She pulled back, found herself looking up into those fathomless black eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve got shit coming at me from all sides… from my brother, from Heaven, from Sheoul. You’re the only thing that makes sense right now. I can’t get fucked over by you, too.”

How bizarre it was that they were both in very similar situations, and that only made her feel extra guilty for lying to him.

Maybe she should tell him the truth. Or at least tiptoe around the truth to see how he’d feel about… about what? Screwing a
vyrm
? Confessing his sins to someone who had been lying about who they were?

Even if he didn’t want to slaughter her for being a
vyrm
, he’d probably do it for lying to him.

Finally, she settled for a response that was one hundred percent truthful. “I would never intentionally hurt you. Please believe me when I say that.”

Revenant opened his mouth to say something, but a muffled buzz drew both of their focuses to her purse on the floor.

“I wouldn’t have thought I’d get cell service down here.”

He shrugged. “Demon technicians can do pretty much anything.” He gestured to the purse. “Go ahead and get it. We should get going anyway. Gethel’s waiting.”

The reminder made her groan. A groan that was cut short by the distinct buzz tone of her mother’s instant message handle.

She fished the phone out of her bag as Revenant left her alone in the bedroom. The screen blinked, and Deva’s kitten avatar popped up. Her mother loved cats. Practically lived for Cat Saturday on theCHIVE.

Honey, r u there?
 

Blaspheme typed out her response with one finger.
I’m here, Mom. Where are you? Are you safe? How are you feeling?

I feel ok. I’m safe. R u?
 

Damn, Blas hated the shortcut crap. She made it a point to type out everything properly, even if it took a million times longer.
I’m fine. Why did you run?

The male in the clinic. He’s the 1 I told u about.
 

Blaspheme frowned.
What one you told me about?

There was a pause that took way too long. Long enough that Blas managed four laps around the bedroom before her phone finally vibrated in her hand. When she looked down, what she saw stopped her heart dead in her chest.

The male called The Destroyer. Blaspheme, the fallen angel in the clinic
…
he’s The Destroyer. He’s the bastard who killed your father
.

Revenant waited for Blaspheme on his front porch, looking out into the bottomless chasm that circled his house and the ten acres of land surrounding it like a waterless moat. He’d lived in this impenetrable fortress for three decades, basking in the privacy that was broken only when he brought someone here or made the stone bridge visible to those he invited.

Like the food delivery dude.

He’d liked it here, he supposed, but now he wanted something different. Better. More befitting of someone like Blaspheme.

She didn’t belong in a place like this. Hell, she didn’t belong in Sheoul at all.

As he gazed across the dark depths of the canyon to the vast, craggy Mountains of Eternal Suffering, he felt shame that he’d brought her here. And how strange it was to feel shame when, for nearly five thousand years he’d felt nothing of the sort.

But Blaspheme had left him off balance, awash in unexpected new feelings and dusting off emotions he hadn’t used since his mother died.

I’m here for you
, she’d said.
I’m here for you
.

Warmth blanketed his heart, replacing the frost that had deadened the muscle. It felt as if the organ was truly beating for the first time, and the lightness, the energy he felt, was amazing.

Overcome with an urge to kiss the ever-living hell out of her, he went back inside, found her sitting stiffly on his couch, her purse over her shoulder, her hands folded in her lap.

Something wasn’t right.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She stood, but she avoided his gaze. “We should go. We can stop by UG so I can pick up an obstetrics bag and the portable ultrasound machine.”

Maybe she’d gotten some bad news while she’d been in the bedroom. He wanted to ask, and yesterday he would have. But something had changed between them since then, and he’d entered into a strange dynamic he wasn’t familiar with.

He wasn’t exactly the most patient person on the planet, but he’d give it a shot for once. Maybe she’d tell him on her own when she was ready.

He just hoped she was ready soon. His newfound interest in trying to be more patient probably wouldn’t last.

Her hand felt stiff and cold in his as he grasped it and flashed them directly to her office.

“Wait here,” she said, still not meeting his gaze.

She took off, and he wasted time by checking out all the knickknacks on her desk and on her shelves. She seemed to be a fan of butterflies. Little crystal figurines in bright, cheery colors decorated the office, and on her walls, two huge watercolor paintings of blue and yellow butterflies bracketed her medical degrees and award certificates.

All he had on his walls were racks of weapons and a couple of enemy skulls.

Blaspheme returned, two large bags slung over her shoulders. To be gentlemanly, something completely new, he took both bags.

“You like butterflies,” he said, stating the freaking obvious. “Why?” To him, they were nothing but winged worms.

“Because,” she said, snaring her purse. “They spend the first part of their lives in disguise, ugly, not knowing their full potential. But when they can finally be themselves, they can fly and be the beautiful creatures they were born to be.” A thread of sadness infused her voice. Guess she really had a thing for winged worms.

And she
still
wouldn’t look at him.

“Blaspheme?”

“What?” she snapped.

Whoa. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

The thick blond lashes that framed her intense blue eyes flipped up. “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I just have a lot on my mind, and frankly, I’m not looking forward to treating that evil skank.”

He sensed there was more to it than that, and while he might be dense about female moods, he had a feeling she would only get angrier if he pushed more.

“We won’t be there for long,” he said. “And if you’re worried about your safety, know that I will kill anyone who tries to harm you.”

“Yes,” she said in a nasty tone, “because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You kill. How easy is it for you? How many butterflies have you crushed under your boots, Revenant?”

Taken aback by her sudden anger, he fought to stay calm when he really wanted to lash out. Which was a first.

“I am, for all intents and purposes, a fallen angel,” he said flatly. “Killing is in my nature.
Enjoying
it is in my nature. You knew this when you fucked me the first time. And the second. And
now
you’re taking issue with it? That’s like being angry at a shark for killing a seal. It’s in his nature.”

“And that’s the problem,” she whispered. “That’s the problem in a nutshell.”

 

 

Revenant flashed Blaspheme to Gethel’s residence without another word. The moment they materialized, Gethel lit into Revenant with ear-shattering shrieks about taking his damned time bringing a doctor.

“Chill out,” he said as he sank into a chair near one of the hearths. “It’s not like you’re going to die from a little bleeding.”

Blaspheme held up a hand. “Enough. Gethel, I need you to lie down on the sofa. I’m going to perform an ultrasound and get a sample of amniotic fluid.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Gethel grinned. “Good.”

Blaspheme just shook her head as she squatted down on the floor and rummaged through the duffel for the supplies needed for the amniocentesis. Her fingers closed around something strange… Frowning, she drew out a small, filled syringe with a piece of paper secured around it with a rubber band.

As Gethel positioned herself on the sofa and lifted her tattered maternity blouse to expose her belly, Blaspheme checked out the paper.

One word, written in Eidolon’s neat script:
AMNIOINFUSION
.

She stared at the letters, trying to make sense of them. Then it hit her. The syringe was filled with the solarum Eidolon had mentioned. Instead of injecting saline into the amniotic sac during a normal amnioinfusion treatment, she was supposed to inject the solarum —

She jerked, nearly dropping the syringe. Poison. The pale yellow liquid inside the syringe’s barrel was poison to evil beings, and the more evil, the more poisonous it was. And Lucifer, being the son of Satan…

Oh, damn.

She looked over at Revenant, who had just shoved to his feet to pace back and forth between pillars. He didn’t seem to be interested in what was going on, but Gethel huffed.

“Are you just going to sit there, you stupid cow?”

“No,” Blas said absently. “Of course not.” It was a measure of how flustered she was that she didn’t snap back at the evil mother-to-be, and when Revenant shot a look in their direction, she knew she had to get her shit together.

First things first, she needed to gather amniotic fluid. It only took a few minutes to set up the ultrasound machine, which she’d use to determine the position of the fetus and the best location to insert the needle. As the unit warmed up, she made an attempt to engage her False Angel X-Ray vision… and was shocked when it flickered to life.

Warmth infused her body as the gift took hold with an almost orgasmic sensation. It was as if the False Angel enchantment were taking its last dying breath, and she intended to use it for all it was worth.

Quickly, she focused on Gethel’s swollen belly, and instantly, the form inside took shape. She expected to see the outline of a monster, but instead, she saw what appeared to be a run-of-the-mill baby, no different from what she’d see in a human hospital.

It’s not a baby. It’s not human. It’s not even a demon. It’s
Satan’s son.
Evil incarnate
.

Keeping that thought firmly in mind, she chose a spot to place the needle she’d use to withdraw amniotic fluid.

“You’re going to feel a pinch…” She inserted the needle, using her special vision to ensure that she hit a pocket of fluid and not the infant. A moment later, she withdrew the full syringe, capped it, and tucked it into the duffel. Stem cell collection successful.

The solarum-filled syringe sat next to the ultrasound machine, its contents glinting in the chamber’s smoky light.

Do it
.

Blas closed her eyes. She’d taken on the mission to do this, to destroy Lucifer in the womb. She’d done it to keep Eidolon out of harm’s way. She could go through with it. She had to.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, she palmed the syringe and oriented the needle so she could jab it straight down, into the back of Lucifer’s skull.

Her False Angel vision snuffed out, but it didn’t matter. The needle was positioned, and even if she somehow missed, just injecting the stuff into the amniotic fluid should do the trick.

It would destroy Lucifer.

Do it
.

But she was a doctor. How could she take a life, even if that life was evil? It was still a life, and she was born to heal, not destroy.

Do it!
 

Her hand shook and her eyes stung, and in the pit of her stomach, the food she’d eaten with Revenant churned. Why was this happening to her? If Lucifer were to strike out at her, she could fight back. She could kill. But this was different. This would sit on her soul like a bruise for the rest of her life.

But by killing him, you’ll be saving thousands of lives
.

Hundreds of thousands. Millions, maybe. Come time for the biblical Apocalypse, Lucifer would fight at Satan’s side, orchestrating the suffering of every living thing on the planet.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gethel snapped. “I don’t have all day. I have a basketful of kittens to eat.”

Blaspheme’s hand jerked. “Kittens? I told you,
leafy greens
.”

“You said not to eat infants.”

“No meat. At all. Doctor’s orders.”

Gethel hissed. “I don’t believe you.” She pointed at the syringe poised over her belly. “And what is that?”

“Contrast solution,” Blas lied. “It’ll help with the ultrasound.”

The sound of Rev’s heavy boots striking the floor came close, and Blaspheme’s pulse spiked. Had he seen through the lie?

“Hurry.” Gethel dropped her head back against the sofa armrest. “When you’re done I’m going to eat the kittens and have someone rustle me up a human infant or two.”

Rev was almost on top of her. Blaspheme gripped the syringe tight. No more waffling. This bitch and her monster child were going down. If guilt plagued Blas for the rest of her life, so be it.

Her hand shook even harder and nausea bubbled up, but she ignored both and started to shove the needle home.

Suddenly, something crashed into her, knocking her over and sending the syringe flying out of her grip. Revenant tumbled to the ground, and as he shoved to his feet, his boot came down on the syringe, smashing it and splattering its contents all over the floor.

“Oh, hey, sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I tripped over the ultrasound machine. Hope I didn’t mess anything up.”

He’d tripped? Mr. Uber-agile had
tripped
?

“Fool!” Gethel barked. “Lucifer is going to skin you alive the moment he learns to wield a blade.”

“He’s welcome to try.” Revenant kicked aside the bits of syringe. “But until then, you need to keep him healthy, so listen to the doctor and eat your damned green shit.” He glanced at Blas. “Finish up. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”