Chapter 13
Gabriel was pissed.
Raika, who was supposed to be playing for the good guys, had left him, chained to the wall, in Lilith’s torture chamber.
He’d sat there, filthy, starving, and writhing in pain, for who the hell knew how long.
When you were a prisoner, days were measured in…
wait. They weren’t measured at all. Time was one endless enema.
Blood rushed through his ears as he fumed. The thudding pulse sounded like footsteps.
They were footsteps.
Anxiety replaced anger as he lifted his head and watched the entrance with his one good eye.
Lilith stepped into the chamber, and his anxiety topped out. She was carrying a black dildo as thick as a softball bat and embedded with…what were those things?
His heart—and his ass—clenched when she held it up.
Razor blades.
“Hello, my delicious morsel of angel flesh—” She froze mid-sentence, going completely still, except for her gaze, which frantically shifted around the room.
Suddenly, she hissed, her lips peeling back from grotesque, jagged teeth.
She’d gone from an impossibly gorgeous, seductive temptress to a hideous, red-eyed demon in a flash. Evil was rarely subtle. “Who was here?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar!” she spat, her eyes flaring wide with what he swore was panic. “It’s a trap.”
She hissed again, and in a blur of motion, she wheeled around and darted out of the chamber. Three heartbeats later, Raika burst inside, weapons drawn.
“You just missed her,” he said.
Scowling, Raika turned to him. “How far into the chamber did she get before she sensed the trap?”
He shrugged, wincing at the crack in his shoulder. “About halfway.”
“Hmm. I’ll need to adjust the mana load and weaves in the spell.”
He one-eyed her curiously. “You’re using spells instead of natural ability?”
She disappeared her weapons and wings. They were glorious. Like his had been. Now, he just had bloody bone stumps that never healed.
“I use everything at my disposal,” she said. “And in this environment, I was afraid she’d sense the use of angelic power.”
Raika was probably right. And truthfully, he didn’t know what special powers she’d been granted by Heaven when she reached maturity and had been tasked with capturing the evilest of the demons her father had set free.
During Gabriel’s restriction in Heaven, he’d been forbidden access to any information about her or her duties.
He’d been forbidden access to almost everything.
“Well?” He held his bound wrists out. “You’re freeing me, right?”
She appeared to consider his request, and he started sweating. He couldn’t take another day in this place. He was starving and in pain—little more than a mass of well-tenderized meat at this point.
“I guess I might as well,” she said, sounding distracted as she looked around the room. Clearly, his situation was of little concern to her. She was just like her father. But hotter. “Lilith won’t return anytime soon. And now she knows she’s being hunted. I fucked up.”
“Yeah, that’s too bad.” He gestured with his hands. “Free me?”
She regarded him with the aloof gaze she’d also inherited from her father. That looking-down-her-nose thing belonged to her mother, though. “I’ll take you to Underworld General.”
“The demon hospital?” He’d considered going there when he first landed in the human realm, but only until he could figure out his next move. He’d had weeks to do that now, and his plan to get back into Heaven didn’t involve demons. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Look at yourself. Do you really think you’ll survive more than a day without getting caught by demons or fallen angels?
” Her mouth twisted in distaste. “You have broken bones punching out of your skin. You’re so dehydrated you’re not even bleeding from gaping wounds.
And I’m pretty sure your right clavicle isn’t supposed to be on the same side as the left. So, yeah, I’m taking you to UG.”
The very idea of being treated by demons, inside a demon facility, was outrageous. Insulting. He was an Archangel, dammit. He should be taken somewhere far more appropriate.
“Take me to Ares.” Gabriel and the Horseman weren’t buddies or anything, but Gabriel had been to his island, and if anyone could help, it was Ares.
“I’m not your taxi service.” She hauled him to his feet, uncaring of his agony. “You’re going to be Eidolon’s problem now.”
Mace had known pain in the past. He’d broken about a million bones, had been nearly disemboweled a couple of times, and once, Blade had even had to restart his heart.
But the things Dr. Vale had done to him made all those other instances seem like minor scratches and contusions. At least his parents had stepped outside and hadn’t—hopefully—heard his roars of agony.
Talon had, though. Figured his half-brother would be standing right there, using the excuse that he needed to monitor Mace’s organs in case they exploded or melted or some shit. They hadn’t, thankfully. Mace would have hated for Talon to have an I-told-you-so moment.
“Hey, kiddo.”
Mace looked up from the video game he was playing in the 3D projection from his wrist comms. He’d needed to take his mind off Blade and Scotty, the mission he’d failed to complete, and the fact that he couldn’t contact them.
“Hey.” Mace shut down the game as Wraith sauntered into the room, decked out in battle gear and a worn leather trench coat, beneath which there would be dozens of weapons. Weapons he’d taught Mace to be proficient with by the time he was ten. “Who called you? I know Talon didn’t.”
“Idess sent me a message.” Wraith moved over to the bed as quickly and smoothly as the creature that was his namesake. “How are you doing? Your parents said you could have died.”
“They worry too much.”
Wraith gave Mace’s arm a fond squeeze. “It’s what parents do.”
“What do parents do?” Talon blew into the room like a storm cloud, no doubt pissed about Wraith’s presence.
“They worry about their kids.” Wraith turned his words into a challenge as he faced Talon. “Even when they’re adults.”
“Well, there’s no reason to worry about Mace.” Talon tossed his clipboard onto the counter. “He’s doing great.”
“What about you?” Wraith asked.
“Me?” Talon scoffed. “I’m not the one who was dumb enough to get caught in a bone-crush spell.”
“Fuck off,” Mace sighed. “Traps aren’t always easy to detect. Because, you know, they’re traps.”
“Speaking of traps,” Wraith said to Talon, in a voice that was definitely a trap, “you still messing with that fallen angel?”
The room’s temperature dropped about ten degrees. Talon’s relationship with an abhorrent, insufferable fallen angel was one of those subjects you brought up at the family dinner if you wanted to blow shit up.
Mace had been known to blow up a dinner or two.
“She has a name, you know,” Talon said.
She sure did. Mace, Scotty, and Blade called her Angelus Horribilis. It did not amuse her.
“I’ll bet she has many names.” Wraith’s lips peeled back in disgust, revealing massive fangs that Mace envied. Mace’s weren’t nearly as long. “And I’d bet she’s never told you what they are.”
“This might shock you, Dad, but I don’t give a shit.”
Wraith seemed relieved. “So, it’s just sex. Why don’t you—?”
“We’re not discussing this,” Talon snapped, and Mace hoped Wraith would let it go. At least for now. Everyone knew Talon was only dating the evil bitch to piss off his dad, but the more Wraith pushed, the more he shoved Talon closer to her.
When Wraith gave a reluctant nod, Talon turned to Mace.
He still looked irritated, though. “You asked how Eva is doing. She’s stable for now.
As for you, Dr. Vale cleared you for discharge.
But,” he said, his voice taking on a note of doctorly gravity, “you have to keep your resting heart rate below fifty. That’s pretty high for our species, but you still need to be careful.
I’m going to send a monitoring application to your wrist comms. When your heart rate goes above fifty heartbeats per minute, the alarm will sound.
If it goes above sixty, get to the hospital immediately. ”
“Uh…why? What’ll happen if I don’t?”
“Heart failure,” Talon said bluntly. “The kind you’re unlikely to come back from.”
Not cool.
“He should stay here if he’s in that much danger.” Wraith looked over at Mace. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah,” Talon said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Because he loves being here so much.”
“For once, Talon’s right. I’m going home.” He looked down at his chest, as if he could see inside. “How long do I have to keep my heart rate down?”
“Give it twenty-four hours. Once your fever breaks, you’re out of the woods. So, take your temperature every couple of hours, and don’t do anything but rest. Have food delivered. And no sex. I’ll give you a prescription for a couple of doses of the suppressant StryTech developed.”
“Fuck that,” Mace said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was so out of here. “Isn’t that drug dangerous? It nearly killed Stryke.”
Stryke hadn’t thought the suppressant Eidolon invented worked long enough, so he’d come up with a formula that allowed a Seminus demon to go up to a week without sex. But the side effects included restlessness, nausea, fertility, insanity, and death.
“Eidolon approved it for extreme short-term use,” Talon said. “It can cause fertility, so either take one dose of the usual suppressant, or take precautions the first time you have sex with a fertile female.”
“Oral only. Got it.”
“Or Masumi,” Wraith suggested. “She can’t get pregnant.”
“Speaking of Masumi,” Mace said, feeling a sudden need to poke the hornet’s nest, “she says she hasn’t bedded Talon in months. He’s been too busy with Scorn.”
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” Talon snapped. “Like usual, you had to fucking insert yourself where you don’t belong.”
And that was the crux of the matter. Talon had never accepted Mace as his brother. Had always resented the fact that Wraith was Mace’s father too.
“According to you,” Mace shot back, “I don’t belong anywhere.”
“Stop.” Wraith’s sharp reprimand echoed through the room. “Knock it off. Both of you.”
Mace gestured to Talon. “He started it.”
“Go to hell—”
“I said, knock it off,” Wraith roared. “If I have to—”
“Hey!” Lore stuck his head into the room. “Raika’s here. And you’ll never believe who she brought with her.”