“Shh.” She pushed up on one elbow and stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers—fingers that shook, because damn, what if what they’d just done had gotten her pregnant? “It’s okay. You need to get some rest.”
He nodded and stretched out next to her, his lids droopy. The water Ares had brought seemed to finally be working. The sedative part of it, anyway. The sexual side-effect seemed to have already kicked in.
“Jillian?” His voice was groggy, almost inaudible.
“Yeah?”
“I love you. No matter what happens, remember that.” Soft snores drifted to her within two heartbeats, and she settled against him, fighting a losing battle with her own exhaustion. She had so many questions and needed so many answers, but right now she needed rest more.
Most of all, she needed Reseph.
Jillian woke, stiff and sore, partly from sleeping on the hard floor and partly from Reseph’s lovemaking. Not that she was complaining, but it made trying to quietly get dressed a little more difficult when she kept hissing at the stabs of pain. Her ribs, shoulders, and hip bones had never fully recovered from the demon attack, and sometimes she had to eat ibuprofen like candy. Today would be one of those days.
Reseph was sleeping peacefully, so she snuck out of the bedroom and wasn’t surprised to find that the massive living room was packed. In addition to Ares, Thanatos, Limos, and Cara, there was also a woman holding a baby, who she assumed were Thanatos’s wife and child, given how he was hovering. At their feet was a smaller version of the hellhound that lay on the couch over Cara’s lap.
And at the entrance to the kitchen was a huge being with ram-like horns. What in the world was it?
“It’s not polite to stare,” Limos said.
Jillian jumped. “I’m sorry. I just…”
Limos punched her in the shoulder, startling her again. “I’m kidding! Everyone stares at Ramreels.” Said Ramreel gave Limos the finger, and she returned the gesture. “You love me and you know it,” she called to it, and the Ramreel snorted.
Seriously, Jillian felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. Had she dreamed up a million scenarios of what she thought life for the Four Horsemen and demons would be like… this would not have been one of them.
Ares moved over to them. “How is Reseph?”
“I’m curious about that as well.” A beautiful, raven-haired woman with matching wings appeared from out of nowhere, and Jillian damned near screamed.
“That’s Harvester,” Thanatos explained. “Fallen angel.”
“I’m really not in Kansas anymore,” Jillian breathed.
“Well?” Harvester said. “My time and my patience are in short supply.”
Adrenaline was still skittering through Jillian’s body after being scared half to death, and before she could consider how she should speak to a fallen angel, she blurted, “Is common courtesy also in short supply?”
Limos barked out a laugh. “Oh my God, I love this human.”
“Sorry,” Jillian said, hoping the fallen angel wouldn’t zap her with lightning or something, “but Reseph is miserable, and my nerves are a little frayed. I’m worried about him. I got him to eat and drink, and to clean up. He’s sleeping now, but he’s just so… not right.”
A sudden roar pierced the air, and instantly, they all tore off toward Reseph’s bedroom. Jillian got there first. Reseph was tugging at his hair, throwing himself against the wall.
“Reseph!” She ran to him, and although he quieted the moment she gripped his wrist, he still bashed his head into the wall. “Please, Reseph. You’ve got to stop.”
He ignored her, and behind him cracks spiderwebbed up the wall, joining the already existing faults. Plaster fell in small chunks, coating them both in white dust.
“Do something!” She wrenched around to the Horsemen and the fallen angel, desperate for this to stop. “Please. There’s got to be something you can do.”
“That’s why we brought you,” Ares said. “We’re out of ideas.”
“You could take him back to Sheoul-gra,” Harvester suggested, with enough relish that Jillian realized the angel was not fond of Reseph. “It won’t make him better, but at least you don’t have to watch his misery.”
“That was so helpful,” Thanatos said dryly.
Harvester’s cold smile dropped the temperature in the room. “I live to serve.”
“You hate him,” Limos said. “Why are you even here?”
“It’s my job to be here.”
Ares swung around to the fallen angel. “Yeah, here’s the thing. Your job is to watch over us. You can’t do that effectively if you hate one of us. So maybe I go to your boss and have you fired.”
Harvester hissed, her huge fangs glinting, and Jillian pressed closer to Reseph. “You’re threatening me?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” Ares’s voice was calm, reminding Jillian of Reseph when he’d been dealing with those jerks in the bar parking lot. If Ares was anything like his brother, that fallen angel had better watch out. “You know me well enough to know I do what I have to do to win a battle. This is a battle. Reseph is fighting for his sanity. If you can’t help, you can go.”
“Did you make the same demands of Reaver?” Harvester asked. “Help or go?”
Ares’s hands fisted at his sides, and Jillian braced for a fight that would, no doubt, make a mockery of the fight in the parking lot. “Reaver tried to help by erasing Reseph’s memory.”
“Then maybe he can do it again,” Harvester said with an arrogant huff.
“No!” Jillian’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought of Reseph losing himself again. “There’s got to be something you can do. Please. I’ll do anything.”
For a long time, Harvester stared at her. Finally, she got a wicked gleam in her eye. “There is something I can do, but it’ll require a sacrifice from you.”
Thanatos scowled. “What kind of sacrifice? And why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because what I need can’t come from any of you.”
Jillian came to her feet, both hope and fear pinging through her. Reseph moaned, but at least he’d stopped banging his head against the wall. “What is it you need?”
“Your mind.” Harvester smiled. “I need your mind.”
“Explain,” Ares barked, and Jillian jumped again. The guy had missed his calling as a drill sergeant.
“I can use Jillian’s mind to repair Reseph’s. It won’t be a total fix, but I can essentially take a piece of Jillian’s mind from her and give it to Reseph. Her mind is uncluttered by the kind of horrors in Reseph’s head. Essentially, he’ll have the ability to not think about everything Pestilence did if he doesn’t want to. He’ll still be able to access the memories, but at least he won’t be a blubbering puddle of insanity.”
“What about me?” Jillian swallowed. “Will I lose any of my memories?” Losing the airport attack might not be a bad thing.
As if he knew they were talking about him, Reseph threw himself against the wall with a hoarse cry. Before Jillian could do anything, Thanatos tackled his brother, restraining him the best he could, but Reseph was strong, and he only struggled harder.
Sickened, her stomach churning, Jillian addressed Harvester impatiently. “Well?”
“You won’t lose any memories,” Harvester said.
Limos folded her arms over her chest and voiced what Jillian was thinking. “Then what’s the catch? There’s always a catch.”
“Of course there is.” Harvester’s wings flared, stirring the air. “Nothing comes without a price.”
“Especially not when you’re buying from evil,” Thanatos muttered.
Harvester rolled her eyes. “Pestilence is still inside Reseph, and he’s getting off on Reseph’s memories. He likes to relive all his cruelty, and doing so will chip away at the bond I’ll use to attach your mind to Reseph’s. So the price, Jillian, is that you and Reseph will have to be connected for life. At least once a year, you must reestablish your connection.” At what must have been Jillian’s confused expression, Harvester sighed. “Sex. You will have to screw your little brains out. If you don’t, his memories will become yours, and you’ll go mad and die.”
Jillian blushed fiercely at the mention of sex in front of all these people. Heat seared her cheeks, followed by a sudden chill. “Die?”
“Die.” Harvester glanced at Reseph and sneered. “You’ll have to trust him to come to you once a year.”
“Fuck.” Ares scrubbed his hand over his face. “Jillian, we’ll swear to drag him to you if needed.”
Drag him? Why would they have to drag him? “I don’t understand.”
“He’s not the most… reliable… person on the planet.” Limos’s gaze was once again brimming with sympathy. “Don’t get me wrong, he was a good guy before his Seal broke. But he didn’t keep schedules or sit down for more than two seconds, you know?”
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?