Revenant

Anger fueled every step he took in search of Satan’s vile baby mama. He found her in her lush bedroom, wrapped in furs and studying herself in front of the mirror.

“Do you think I’m fat?” Gethel asked, peering at her side profile.

“As a cow.”

“Asshole.” She wheeled around with impressive speed, given that she was as big as a cow. A pregnant cow. “Did you bring that doctor bitch again?”

Gods, he was going to love taking her down. “I brought something better.”

Her pale eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“An archangel.”

With the way she flushed and began to pant, he thought she was going to orgasm right then and there. “Who?”

“Raphael. Do you know him?”

Her lips curled back from sharp, pointy teeth. “I despise him.” She looked past him, as if Raphael were standing in the doorway. “Where is he?”

“I had to leave him in the Temple of Gog. See?” In the center of the room, he cast a 3-D image of Raphael, bound and unconscious, next to the statue of Gog that sat along the temple’s back wall. Proof was always a good thing when you were going for deception. “Live angels can’t enter Satan’s territories. I figured I’d let you have a shot at him before I slaughter him and hand his head over to the Dark Lord.”

“Take me,” she said. “I want to feed on his haughty archangel blood.”

So predictable. “I can’t do that. Satan cast a spell on this place so no one can kidnap you.”

“I can leave of my own free will,” she said. “I’ll go myself. You’ll accompany me as protection.”

Her command made him grind his teeth, but accompanying her had been the plan all along. “Take my hand,” he said. “Temple of Gog.”

Grinning, she flashed them to the temple, fashioned from ancient Roman buildings to worship some of the earliest and most powerful demons to exist in Sheoul. As they materialized, Reaver lunged from where he’d been concealed behind a pillar and clamped a Tal around her throat. The glass cuff, made by angels to render fallen angels helpless, shaped itself into an invisible collar, squeezing hard enough to allow only wisps of air to pass through her windpipe.

Best of all, as her eyes bulged and she grasped at the Tal, she couldn’t speak.

“Where’s Raphael?” Rev asked, and Reaver gestured to a shadowed corner, where the archangel lay, unconscious, on his back. “Did you have any trouble?”

Reaver yanked Gethel toward Raphael. “Nope.”

Suddenly, Gethel’s face went exorcist, morphing into something horrible, and the thing in her belly began to push against her skin as if it wanted out.

“Shit,” Reaver snapped. “We need to hurry. Lucifer is strong even in her womb. If he were to be born now…”

He didn’t have to finish. The coming battle was going to be impossible to win as it was. Throwing in Lucifer, whose power was predicted to eclipse the power he’d wielded in his past life, was going to ensure that neither Revenant nor Reaver survived this. And Revenant had no doubt that once Lucifer was grown, he’d make everyone Reaver and Rev loved pay as well.

“I’m out of here. Get ready, Bro, because all hell is going to break loose.”

Literally.

Thirty-One

Revenant stood outside the entrance to Satan’s private baths, inhaling deeply. Again. And again. This was it. He was either going to do the impossible… or he was going to die.

He entered without knocking. Steam that reeked of sulphur swirled around him as he walked toward the bubbling pit in the center of the black-tiled room. Satan was in the pool with three females and a male, all different species.

Revenant didn’t wait for Satan to show surprise that he’d entered without an invitation. He blasted the four demons in the pit with a sweet Shadow Angel weapon that disintegrated the fuckers into nonexistence. Not even their souls survived.

“Revenant,” Satan hissed. “What the fuck are you do —”

Revenant attacked, tackling the demon as he rose from the water. They crashed onto the stone deck with a wet thud. Before Satan could even blink, Revenant slammed his fist into his throat.

It was like hitting a steel pipe.

Satan struck back with an uppercut into Rev’s gut, knocking him into the sacrificial table used to drain the blood of victims into the pool. The stone tabletop smashed into a dozen pieces, showering Rev with dust and pebbles.

“What the fuck is going on?” Satan’s roar of fury sent the ghastbats in the rafters into an explosion of squeaks and flapping wings.

Revenant pitched to his feet. “I got your damned angel. I’ve proved my loyalty, so you’re going to leave Blaspheme alone.”

Satan laughed. “You stupid bastard. I will have Blaspheme. No angel could be worth what I plan to do to her.”

The smug son of a bitch. “Not even an archangel?”

Instant mood shift. Satan wiped blood from his chin and stood a little straighter. “An archangel, you say.” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, and Revenant swore he saw a little drool. The bastard was taking the bait, just as Gethel had. “Is this archangel dead?”

Revenant shook his head. “I figured you’d want him alive, so I didn’t bring him here.” No living angel could enter this region of Sheoul, and if Revenant – or anyone – tried to flash a Heavenly being inside, he or she would materialize dead.