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Revenant



A heartbeat later, Raphael popped onto the stage, his face a mask of fury. “You don’t belong here,” he growled, and yeah, that was exactly the problem.

He didn’t belong in the exact place he should belong.

“And you lied to me,” Revenant said. “Metatron isn’t here.”

“Wrong meeting, asshole,” Raphael said.

Revenant frowned. “Disappointing.” He threw himself down in one of the theater seats. “But since I’m here, let’s chat.”

A tingle spreading over his scalp indicated the arrival of his twin.

“Reaver,” Raphael snapped. “It’s about time. Get that piece of offal out of here.”

Revenant laughed. “In a room full of stinking shitheads, how will he know who you’re talking about?”

Eleven archangels looked ready to explode. Go ahead and paint the walls, boys. Your blood, guts, and brains could only make the gaudy decor less horrifying.

Raphael roared. “Get. Him. Out!”

“Yes, Reaver,” Rev said, “get me out before my taint defiles the place.”

Reaver, for all his high-and-mightiness, didn’t move other than to fold his arms over his chest and stare at Revenant. “Why are you here?”

“Because I’m an angel, same as you.” He looked over at the horde of archangels, each of whom was charged up with power, ready to blast him. He was far stronger than any of them, save Reaver, but he wondered how he’d stack up against all eleven of them. “Same as all of you.”

“You’re nothing like us,” one of the strangers spat.

He kicked his booted feet up on the back of the chair in front of him. “What’s your name?”

The blond angel looked down his nose at Revenant. “I’m Khamael.”

“Well, Khamael,” he drawled. “Suck my balls.” With a wave of his hand, he made the bastard disappear.

Instantly, Reaver was right there, hand on Revenant’s throat. “Where is he?”

“Chill, bro.” Rev grinned, flashing fangs. “He’ll be back in a minute. As soon as he figures out how to free himself from Sheoul-gra. Of course, if he landed in an acid pool or a lava pit, he won’t be looking so great when he gets back.”

Reaver’s fingers tightened. “What. Do. You. Want.”

I want what you have, you bastard.

Revenant exploded to his feet, the shock wave sending Reaver tumbling over a dozen auditorium chairs. Rev kept his power close to the surface, ready to decimate these assholes if they tried anything.

“What do I want?” he asked. “What I want is answers. I want to know why you sons of bitches left me, as a baby, to rot in Sheoul. I want to know why I was left behind when you took Reaver. And I really want to know why you didn’t rescue my mother.”

A couple of the angels looked confused. A few others glanced away, their expressions tight with shame. But it was clear which of them had been involved in the happenings of so long ago.

Michael stepped forward. “We didn’t know where she was —”

“Bullshit,” Revenant roared. “Reaver, on his own, without any help from you bumbling idiots, managed to sneak into Satan’s most secure prison and rescue Harvester. So don’t blow smoke up my ass.”

“Reaver’s special.” Gabriel spread his hands imploringly. “And he had prophecy and fate on his side. At the time of your birth we didn’t have the capability to mount a rescue operation like that.”

Oh, good, more with the Reaver’s special shit.

“Liar,” Revenant spat. “You didn’t have the balls, is what you didn’t have.”

Raphael snarled. “Reaver, if I have to tell you one more time to get him out of here —”

“You’ll what,” Reaver asked. “Speak harshly to me? Glare at me? No, wait, you’ll send one of my friends into a forced mating just to punish me?”

Revenant had no idea what Reaver was talking about, but he got a kick out of the way Raphael’s face went the color of a baboon’s ass. “Lilliana and Azagoth are a good match.”

“Lucky for you,” Reaver murmured. He propped his jeans-clad hip on the back of one of the chairs. “Now, since Revenant hasn’t done anything other than send Khamael for a visit with Azagoth and Hades, I think we should hear him out. He wants answers, and frankly, I’d like to hear what you have to say.” Before Rev could start growing a bunch of lovey-dovey warm fuzzies, Reaver pegged him with serious eyes. “But I’m warning you. One wrong move, and I’ll use your blood to paint these gaudy-ass walls.”

“Brother,” Revenant said, “how alike we are in our thinking. Mom would be proud.”

Something flashed in Reaver’s eyes, gone before Revenant could tell what it was. But it looked suspiciously like anger. Because, yeah, how horrible to think that the two of them, fucking twins, could be alike.

Khamael flashed in, his clothing charred and in tatters, blood streaking his face and arms. His blue eyes were wild, and Rev was pretty sure the archangel’s eyebrows and eyelashes had been singed off.

That was some funny shit.

“So,” Revenant said as he walked slowly toward the stage. “You said that at the time of our birth you didn’t have the ability to rescue us. But what about later?”

Gabriel scrubbed his hand over his face. “Look, Revenant. Our hands were tied from the beginning. Satan held all the cards. We were lucky we were able to work out a deal for one baby, and it was Reaver they brought to us. We had to accept that.”
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