Rogue Rider

Yeah, Jillian did, and her stomach clenched. She’d seen the signs on her farm, the way he’d prowl around as if he were caged, the way he’d feel the need to get out of the confines of the house, his cavalier attitude about relationships and sex. She’d believed he could change, had convinced herself that when he said he wanted a life with her, he could put his restlessness aside.

But could anyone change what they’d been for five thousand years?

“Wait,” she said, thinking about something Limos had told her at the house. “You said Reseph has never fallen in love before me.”

Limos nodded. “That’s why this could work. Were-leopards can change their spots.”

Were-leopards? Don’t ask. Jillian turned to Harvester. “What will happen to Reseph if I die?”

“He’ll return to what he is now.” Harvester cocked an eyebrow. “Do you agree?”

She looked over at Reseph, who was lying on the floor, motionless. Thanatos had released him, but the big Horseman stood nearby, ready to restrain Reseph again. What a horrible existence for all of them. How long could they continue like this? Centuries, she supposed.

She turned back to Harvester. “Let’s do it.”

“Humans surprise me sometimes,” Harvester murmured. “Go to him.”

“No, Jillian.” Reseph’s voice, sounding as if it had been dragged right out of hell, had them all turning to him. “Don’t do it.”

“Reseph—”

A godawful snarl shook the air in the room, and then Reseph was on his feet, his eyes blazing with little red sparks. “Let me show you what you’d be sacrificing for.”

Twenty-five

“Reseph?” Shock flooded Jillian’s face. Reseph’s first instinct was to take her in his arms and soothe her, apologize, make everything better.

But he was going to do the exact opposite. She would not sacrifice anything for him.

She moved toward him, but he backed up, knowing that if she touched him, it would be Game Over. He didn’t have the kind of strength she had, and he’d end up taking whatever comfort she offered.

“I can help you.” She held out her hand, and his fingers twitched with the desire to reach out to her. “I want to help you.”

“After what you went through at the hands of demons, I can’t let you help another one.”

“Help a demon?” She frowned. “I’m helping you.”

“Ah… sorry, Jillian,” Limos said sheepishly. “I forgot to mention that our father is an angel and our mother is a sex demon. The latter is why all our side-effects and shit are sexual in nature. Long story. I’ll lend you the book.”

Jillian’s eyes went wide. “I… Oh my God, you’re a… demon?” Her hands flew to her belly, and he knew she was remembering the attack that had put the scars there.

He remembered her attack, too. But… how? Yes, she’d told him about it, but now that he had his memory back, he could see it. There was a parking lot. He was standing in shadows, the sound of jet engines all around them. A woman was screaming. He was… laughing. Laughing as two Soulshredders tortured her. She was… oh, dear God.

Jillian.

He blinked, hoping the visions would go away, but they didn’t. They got worse. He saw Jillian, screaming, na**d, torn up. Soulshredders were assaulting her, toying with her. And he was standing in the shadows. Watching. Touching himself.

He was the figure she’d sensed as she was being attacked. He was the f**king evil bastard who had set the demons on her, and for no other reason than the fact that she’d stumbled upon what he and the demons had been doing to her coworker. A coworker who had held a secret second job—she’d been an Aegis Guardian, and Pestilence had made it a personal mission to take out every one of the bastards.

Jillian’s screams lashed at him. He’d been there, he’d witnessed her being attacked, and he’d laughed. He’d f**king laughed. One of the demons had looked up at him, blood dripping from its teeth. You like, Master? You want her now?

Master. Oh, holy shit, the demon in the barn had called him Master. It hadn’t been in his head. The thing had been speaking to him as if it had known him… because it had.

Sweat broke out over his body. The demons had worked Jillian over on his command, for his entertainment. Holy hell, he was directly responsible for Jillian’s brutal attack. Reaver had to have known—it was too much of a coincidence that Reseph would have ended up in her care. Why would the angel have sent Reseph to be rescued by his own victim?

The screams turned to moans. Jillian’s, his—they blended together.

“Reseph! Dammit, what’s wrong with you?” Something struck his face hard enough to snap his head back. Limos.

He grabbed her. “Get Jillian out of here,” he croaked.

“I’m not leaving.” Jillian crossed her arms over her chest and squared her shoulders, digging in for a fight. Wasn’t going to happen.

Shoving Limos aside, he dug in just as hard as Jillian. “I was there when you were attacked.” His voice was hoarse, and his heart was pounding against his rib cage so hard the bones felt like they might crack. “I ordered it.”

She shook her head. “You’re confused, Reseph. You wouldn’t have—”

“I was the man you saw standing in the shadows.”

This time, she shook her head violently. “No. That man’s eyes were red. The things I told you are getting jumbled up in your memories.”

“You didn’t tell me about how one of the Soulshredders put the tip of one claw under your left eye and let you think he was going to blind you. You begged him not to. Remember that? He was going to, but Pestilence—I—told him to do it last, because if you were blinded, you couldn’t see the things they did to you.”

Jillian lost all the color in her face. “No… you’re… I must have talked in my sleep.”

Reseph pressed on, relentless. “He dragged his claw across your face, drawing blood all the way to your ear. He tore out your earring and shoved it in your mouth.”

“Stop,” Jillian whispered. “Harvester, we need to hurry…”

Dammit, she was still set on whatever bullshit Harvester had planned. Reseph swallowed his disgust. “Do you want me to go on? Do you want me to tell you that if the demons hadn’t been interrupted, I’d have watched them—”

“Reseph!” Thanatos’s voice was harsh. “That’s enough.”

“I’m not done.” In a flash, he spun Jillian around and shoved her roughly against the wall, every cell in his body shriveling up at the devastation in her expression. “I would have f**ked you, then gutted you, then f**ked you again. You want a visual on that?” He steeled himself against the tears welling in her eyes. “Because I can get really detailed on how it would go down. Tell her, Harvester. Tell her what I did to you.”

“I said enough!” Thanatos’s furious roar accompanied a brutal slam of his fist into Reseph’s shoulder. Well-deserved pain sliced down his arm as he was yanked away from Jillian and Harvester flashed out of the room. Reseph didn’t fight. All he could do was watch Jillian flee, sobbing.

Jillian couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Blindly, she stumbled into the great room, where Harvester stood, eyes averted, her slender body trembling as hard as Jillian’s.

Cara caught Jillian’s arm and led her to the sofa, but although Jillian’s muscles had turned to rubber, her joints had frozen, and she couldn’t sit. Couldn’t do anything but stand there and choke on her own tears. That person in there, that wasn’t Reseph. That wasn’t the man she’d found in a snowdrift and nursed back to consciousness. That wasn’t the man who made her laugh, love, and feel safe.

She’d been looking at a total stranger.

“My… God.” She inhaled on a ragged sob, and finally, her knees went liquid and she sank onto the couch. Cara sat with her and handed her a tissue.

“Jillian?” Limos walked over. “Are you okay?”

Jillian rubbed her arms and tried desperately to stop crying. “The man I love was pretty much the most evil being to have ever walked the earth.”

“We told you that,” Limos said softly.

Yeah, they had. But Jillian hadn’t listened. She’d convinced herself that things hadn’t been as bad as everyone claimed. Or at least that Reseph—Pestilence—had been more of a figurehead or man behind the desk than an active participant. But he’d been right there in the front, leading the charge.

“He was there when I was attacked.” His eyes… God, his eyes. They haunted her dreams, always growing brighter with the sound of his evil laughter. “He’s the reason I was attacked.”

“It wasn’t him, Jillian.”

She knew that, but hearing him describe the things that had happened in the parking lot had been crushing. She’d known he’d been evil, but only when he’d gone into horrific detail while showing no emotion had it truly sunk in.

Jillian hugged herself, because if she didn’t she’d come apart. “You don’t sound convinced.”

Limos sank down on the arm of the couch as though her legs had given out. “Yeah. I know. Deep inside, I know Reseph wasn’t responsible for what Pestilence did.”

“But?”

“But sometimes when I look at Reseph, I don’t remember him as the brother who used to pester me to go to movies with him or who used to make us all decorate for Christmas and dress up for Halloween. I look at him and see the son of a bitch who blackmailed me, ruined my wedding day, kidnapped Cara, stole my husband’s soul, and tried to kill my baby nephew.” Limos was staring at her feet, her shoulders slumped, and it occurred to Jillian that what Limos and her brothers had gone through was far worse than anything Jillian had endured.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It must have been hard to see him change like that.”