Revenant

Gethel rubbed her belly almost affectionately, but Rev had a hard time believing she actually cared about the hellspawn inside her. “Approximately six months.”

Blaspheme’s eyes shot wide. “You’re, ah… very large for only being six months along. Have you confirmed that there’s only one fetus?”

“The Dark Lord confirmed it. You can talk to him if you doubt me.”

“The… Dark Lord?” Blaspheme paled. “I’ll take your word for it.” She shot Revenant another angry glance before looking over at the dead shifter and shuddering.

Revenant did a mental flick of the wrist, and the poor dead dude disappeared, leaving the rack as clean as if it were brand-new.

“You owe me another plaything,” Gethel said, sounding genuinely sad. “That was one of Limos’s servants. I could have enjoyed looking at him for a few more weeks.”

Blaspheme froze with her hand on the stethoscope’s bell. “Limos? As in, third Horseman of the Apocalypse, Limos?”

“Who else?” Gethel waved her hand dismissively. “Next I want one of Thanatos’s vampire servants.”

For a long moment, Blaspheme stood there, her face going paler by the second. “You’re… Gethel.” She took a step backward. “You… you tried to usher in the Apocalypse by killing Thanatos’s newborn son.”

“Duh.”

Blaspheme looked over at Revenant, and he knew she was having second thoughts. Not acceptable. He had a plan, and he needed Team Good, or, at least, Team Neutral, to pull it off.

“I can’t do this,” she said. “The Horsemen are tight with Underworld General’s staff. They’re friends. I can’t be treating the fallen angel who betrayed them and tried to slaughter an innocent baby —”

Gethel’s barking laugh made Blaspheme back up even more, but Rev kept access to his power dancing at his fingertips, ready to blast the shit out of Gethel if she so much as thought about harming Blaspheme.

“No baby is innocent, you fool. They’re reincarnated souls, all of them. They could have been serial killers in their past lives.” She patted her belly. “Do you really think this child is in any way pure?”

Blaspheme swallowed. “The child is emim, yes? The offspring of two fallen angels. It doesn’t have to be evil if —”

“Oh, it’s evil,” Rev drawled. “You kind of can’t get more evil.”

And technically, since Gethel had been a fully haloed angel at the time she conceived, he didn’t think Lucifer would be considered emim, either. He’d be… vyrm. The only one under Satan’s protection.

“I don’t understand. I mean, unless the child is the spawn of Satan…” She trailed off as realization dawned. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gethel said, her voice as dark and smoky as the Mephisto char pits. “But it gets even better. The beast growing in me is the reincarnated soul of Lucifer himself.” She grinned. “And the day he’s born is the day Heaven and all of those asshole angels get what’s coming to them.”

Five

Blaspheme wanted to throw up. On the best of days hospital food didn’t sit well with her, but today… she had a feeling she’d be losing that bologna and salami submarine sandwich. Too bad about the fries, though, because they had been pretty tasty.

“Revenant,” she rasped. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” She glanced over at Gethel, who was still staring at her with crazed-out eyes. “Privately?”

“I’ve been looking for an excuse to get you someplace private,” he said with a raunchy smile, because naturally, he had to turn everything she said into something flirty, crude, or sexual.

“Please,” she ground out, hating that she had to resort to begging. “I need to talk to you.”

Abruptly, he went taut, his head came up, and he went into deadly serious mode. As he stalked toward her, eyes drilling into her, she braced herself for… for what, she didn’t know. Violence was the first word that came to mind, though.

To her surprise, he drew her aside and angled his big body so she couldn’t see Gethel. “You have my ear,” he said.

Holy… damn. That’s all it took to get him to talk? He needed a please? She’d have to remember that.

“Um… okay.” She blew out a long breath. “Look, I don’t know why you care about that… that… monster on the chaise, but —”

“I don’t care about her,” he interrupted. “If I had my way, I’d slay her where she stands. Or sits. She broke a million rules when she was Watcher for the Horsemen and that can’t go unpunished. But I have my orders.”

“Orders from…?”

She had a feeling she knew, so when he said, “The Dark Lord himself,” she just closed her eyes, as if doing so would block out the reality that she’d just waded, chin-deep, into the worst situation imaginable.

“I’m sorry, Revenant, but you’re going to have to find someone else to treat her. I can’t.”

“I want you.”

Gods, he was stubborn. “Even if she wasn’t the mortal enemy of pretty much everyone I work with, I can’t, in good conscience, treat her.”

“Didn’t you have to take some sort of oath to help everyone in need or some crap when you became a doctor?”

“That’s a human thing, not a demon one. And trust me, even human doctors would agree with me on this.”