CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
“As for my time in Treachery, as you know, I escaped. Fought my way to freedom in the pits,” I remind her, deciding that honesty—or at least a version of it—is my best bet.
Although I wisely choose not to remind her that it is her signature that damned me there in the first place.
“But I couldn’t get there on my own. I had help from Pestilence. ”
The temperature in the room drops about twenty degrees. Several guard angels gasp, and I watch as Themis’ knuckles go white as she grips the arms of her throne.
“You dare come here and admit that you consort with that… abomination?” Her voice could freeze Hell itself.
“I’m not consorting with anyone,” I shoot back, letting some genuine anger creep into my tone. “She used me, manipulated me, and now I’m trying to fix it before more people get hurt.”
Themis leans forward, her eyes boring into mine. “Explain, before I judge you and cast you out of the Heavens for good this time.”
This is it. The moment where I can either sell my soul completely or find some way to salvage what is left of my tattered honor.
Or option three—improvise and hope for the best. “Pestilence freed me from Treachery with one goal—to use me as bait to lure you out of the Heavens,” I inform her, watching Themis’ expression carefully.
“She knows you won’t come after me, but she thinks I can convince you to meet me somewhere outside your wards. The Garden of Echoes, specifically.”
Themis sits back and studies me. I can feel her gaze look over every inch of my body, and I’m shocked that she can’t hear the thumping of my heart echoing through her chamber.
When her expression calms, it’s her light-hearted laughter that is most unsettling. “And why would I ever agree to that?” Themis asks, her voice dripping with both skepticism and curiosity.
“Because I have information about her plans,” I lie smoothly. “Information about what she’s planning to do with the other Horsemen, about why she needs you specifically. But I can’t share it here.” I glance meaningfully at the guards lining the walls. “Too many ears.”
It’s a gamble. Themis is paranoid by nature—presumably it comes with the territory of being the goddess of Justice. She trusts no one, suspects everyone, and the idea that her own guards might be compromised would eat at her.
“You expect me to believe that you’ve suddenly grown a conscience? That you’re somehow the hero of this story, here to protect me?” she scoffs. “You, who tried to kill your own brother and who has at one time or another abandoned every oath you’ve ever sworn?”
Her words hit harder than I expect, maybe because they are true, in part.
“I don’t presume you to believe anything,” I say quietly. “I expect you to be smart enough to realize that Pestilence won’t free me unless she has a damn good reason, and that reason involves you.”
Themis stands, and the movement is so sudden that half the guards draw their weapons.
She waves them off impatiently, descending the steps of her dais until she stands only a few feet from me.
Up close, I can see the lines of stress around her eyes, the tension in her jaw.
Being a goddess isn’t all golden thrones and blind worship. She looks tired.
“Give me one reason,” she asks softly, dangerously. “One reason why I shouldn’t execute you right now and be done with it and you.”
Myriad responses flash through my mind. Witty comebacks, desperate pleas, logical arguments.
But in the end, what comes out is the truth. “Because Kennedy doesn’t deserve to die for my mistakes.”
Themis blinks, a look of confusion marring her otherwise beautiful face. “Who?”
I swallow back any remaining shred of vulnerability.
“Kennedy,” I repeat, “She’s the woman that I…
” I trail off, unsure how to end that sentence.
Love? Care about? Will burn down the world to protect?
All of the above. “She matters to me deeply, and Pestilence knows it. If I don’t deliver you to the Garden of Echoes, Pestilence will get to her and kill her slowly and painfully, and she’ll make sure I watch every second of it for all eternity. ”
The throne room is so quiet you can hear a feather drop.
Themis studies my face for a long moment, and I force myself to hold her gaze. Let her see the truth in my eyes, the desperation, the fear. Not for myself—I made peace with dying a long time ago. But for Kennedy.
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that a disgraced Archangel who has spent centuries caring for nothing and no one has suddenly discovered love?” Themis’ tone is mocking, but there is something else there, too. Curiosity, maybe.
“Terrifying, isn’t it?” I reply with a bitter laugh. “Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either.”
“And what makes you think that I would ever care about the fate of some human woman?”
“I don’t,” I admit. “But I think you care about stopping Pestilence. You’ve seen firsthand what she’s capable of. And I knew you would be wise enough to recognize this as a trap. So, here’s what I’m proposing—we spring the trap, but on our terms.”
Themis gives me a raised eyebrow. “Go on,” she urges, clearly intrigued.
“You agree to meet me at the Garden of Echoes. We both know Pestilence will be there, probably with half her demon army. But instead of walking in blindly, you come prepared. Bring what’s left of the Elite Guard, set up wards…
whatever you need to do. Use me as bait if you have to but use it to capture her. ”
“And if I agree, what do you get out of this suicide mission?”
I smooth my finger over the collar around my neck. “The collar comes off,” I demand, “and Kennedy stays safe. That’s all I want.”
It, of course, isn’t all I want. I want to see Kennedy’s smile, hear her laugh, and feel the warmth from the way she looks at me like I am something more than a broken weapon. I wanted time with my brother, a chance to know my niece, maybe even a shot at redemption.
But I’ll settle for Kennedy being alive and Pestilence locked away somewhere deep in the bowels of Hell, from where she has no hope of re-emerging.
Themis turns away, pacing back and forth in front of her throne. The silence stretches out, broken only by the soft whispering of her robes against the marble floor.
“You realize this plan has about a thousand ways it could go wrong,” she finally snaps.
A small smirk graces my lips. “I’m counting on nine hundred and ninety-nine of them,” I counter. “It’s that last one I’m worried about.”
Despite herself, Themis almost smiles. Almost. “I’ll need time to prepare,” she requests. “Three days.”
“I have two,” I counter. The collar pulses against my throat, a reminder of my deadline. “Pestilence isn’t known for her patience.”
“Fine, two days. But Reaver?” She turns to face me, and her expression is colder than I’ve ever seen it. “If this is a double-cross, if you’re playing me, I will make Treachery Prison look like a vacation. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
She waves a hand, and the guards immediately surround me again. “Escort him to the guest quarters. He’s not to leave until I summon him.”
As they march me out of the throne room, I can’t help but think about the irony of the situation.
Here I am, trying to save the woman I love by betraying a goddess who damned me to Hell in the first place, all while wearing a collar that will most certainly kill me if I deviate from a plan designed by Pestilence herself.
My life is a fucking disaster.
They lock me in a room that is nicer than any place I’ve stayed in the last millennium—plush bed, actual windows with a view, even a bathroom with running water.
I immediately check for surveillance spells (found three), escape routes (two, maybe three if I’m willing to jump), and weaknesses in the wards (surprisingly few).
I sit on the bed and pull out Kennedy’s photo.
She’s smiling in it, her eyes bright with joy, one arm slung around my shoulder like we were old friends instead of… whatever we were. I look terrified in the photo, my expression caught somewhere between panic and wonder.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her image. “I’m sorry I’m not the man you deserve. I’m sorry I’m about to do something unforgivable. But I’d rather be a monster in your memory than the reason you’re dead.”
I feel the collar pulse again, and this time it tightens. A clear warning.
I have two days to figure out how to betray Themis without actually betraying her, how to satisfy Pestilence without giving her what she wants, and how to keep Kennedy safe while probably getting myself killed in the process.
Two… fucking … days.
“Well,” I mutter to the empty room as I tuck the photo back in my pocket, “at least I won’t die bored.”
Somewhere in the Underworld, I am pretty sure Pestilence is laughing.
And somewhere, Kennedy is probably wondering why the hell she ever smiled at the scarred, broken man in that photo.
I jump up, far too restless to sit for very long, and walk to the window, looking out over the gleaming spires of Heaven. This place was my home once, back when I believed in justice and righteousness and all the pretty lies they beat into us.
Now I know better.
Now I know that justice is just another word for revenge dressed up in fancy robes. That righteousness is whatever the gods say it is, and that the only thing worth fighting for is the people you love.
Even if loving them destroys you.
Even if saving them damns you.
I press my hand against the window, feeling the cool glass beneath my palm. “Two days, Kennedy,” I murmur. “Give me two days to fix this mess, and if I don’t make it back… I hope you find someone who deserves that smile.”
The collar pulses one more time, almost gently, as if Pestilence herself is listening. Who am I kidding? She probably is.
Turning away from the window, I start planning, because if I am going to betray a goddess, defy a Horseman, and save the woman I love, I’m going to need one hell of a strategy.
Or at least a really good distraction and a healthy dose of stupidity.
Luckily for everyone involved, I have both in spades.