As he started for the front door, he wondered how many people would show up for his funeral.
“Hey, Arik.”
Stiffening, Arik swung around to the owner of the deep voice. “Tav? What the hell are you doing here?” The blond Sem smiled sadly, and Arik’s gut wrenched as he realized just how spot-on his last thought was. “You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
A chill slithered up Arik’s spÀp Arikine. “Why? Limos is out of her contract, so killing me is pointless.”
“The Dark Lord is pissed about that, apparently.”
“He should be. He lost out.” He’d lost big time.
Shrugging, Tavin looked Arik up and down. “You look good. Freedom agrees with you.”
“Thanks.” Okay, so it was kind of weird to have a friendly chat with the man sent to kill him. “So.”
Tavin blew out a long breath. “So.”
“How do we do this?”
“Dunno.” Tav looked genuinely perplexed, his sandy brows drawn into a deep frown over his blue eyes. “Never had to kill someone I liked before.”
“We’re quite the pair then, because I’ve never had anyone I like try to kill me.” Arik ran his hand through his hair. “This kind of sucks.”
“It’s a douche-y situation, for sure.”
Tavin reached beneath his jacket and removed a round metal disk, the edges of which looked sharp enough to remove a werewolf’s head from its body with no effort. Which was what Arik guessed was going to happen to him.
“I’m sorry about this, Arik.”
“I can’t talk you out of it, huh?”
“If I fail, bad things happen to me.” Tavin’s voice had gone monotone, which signaled a slide from friend into duty-bound soldier.
“And if you succeed, bad things happen to me.”
Arik shifted his weight and casually released the holster strap that secured the pistol at his hip. Most demons weren’t damaged by regular rounds, but he knew Sems were vulnerable to bullets. Besides, there was his old favorite saying about how firearms brought dignity to what would otherwise be just a vulgar brawl.
He was prepared to be very dignified. Not that he was opposed to vulgarity.
Tavin inclined his head, a sharp, respectful nod, and then it was on. Tavin moved like a phantom, all blur and silver shiny things. The round blade came at Arik with a whoosh of air, and he barely got his pistol free in time to use it to deflect the blade—which would have sheared the top of his skull off. As it was, it sliced through the barrel of his Beretta and knocked it from his hand.
Mother. Fuck.
Tavin flew at him, and Arik pivoted to meet the demon, who was a mass of blows and blades he must have pulled out of his ass. A million cuts sliced into Arik at once, as if he’d been tossed into a giant food processor. Hitting the ground in a tight roll, he whipped his stang out of his chest harness and sliced it across Tav’s torso.
The demon yelped and reared back, but even as Arik jammed the silver end of the weapon into the Sem’s shoulder, TaÀ shouldev shoved a nine-inch, jagged blade into Arik’s gut. He heard the slushy sound of blood, felt the gristly resistance of muscle and organs being penetrated. Staggering agony took away his breath.
Somehow, he managed to jam his knee between Tavin’s legs, and the guy barked out a curse and doubled over. Panting, groaning, Arik stabbed the demon in the back with the stang and ripped upward, cutting a seam along his ribs. The demon screamed, spun, his eyes crimson, and sank his blade into Arik’s chest.
Dizziness laid Arik flat. A black haze came over him, and damn, he was going to die, wasn’t he? He’d lived through a month of torture in Sheoul, survived Pestilence, Satan, Thanatos, and khnives.
And this sex demon was going to kill him.
“Dickhead,” he rasped.
Tavin’s eyes went from crimson to gold, which meant he was only mildly pissed off now. When they returned to their normal blue, the guy would be level, but Arik doubted that would happen any time soon.
“I’m really sorry, human.” Tavin shoved the blade home.
Directly into Arik’s heart.
Pain. Arik thought he’d known every kind there was.
He’d been wrong.
Heart pain was a unique beast, a sharp, scorching sensation that made it impossible to even writhe in agony.
He lay under Tavin’s heavy body, wishing he’d had a chance to make love to Limos before he died. Wishing he could have apologized to her. Wishing he could have made very, very clear that nothing she’d done in the past mattered to him.
The ache in Arik’s heart had nothing to do with the knife buried in it. His pain was for Limos.
Tavin wrenched the blade out of Arik’s chest and pushed awkwardly to his feet, his hand slapped over his own gushing injury while Arik bled in the sand.
Or… wait. He wasn’t bleeding. Lifting his head, he tested his fingers and toes. They all wiggled. He sat up, looked down, and hey, his injuries were closing up.
“What the—?” Tavin whirled around, launched the dagger, and buried it in Arik’s throat.
Hurt like hell, but Arik yanked it out, and a curious zipping sensation went through him as the wound sealed.
“That’s so cool.” Arik patted himself down, didn’t even look up when Tavin brought down a rain of little caltrops that landed on Arik, sticking to him like two dozen burrs.
They burrowed painfully into his skin in a bid to reach his vital organs. They were a nasty demonic weapon, but even as Arik cursed and tried to pry one from his shoulder, his flesh convulsed around them and pushed them out.
“Fuck.” Tav stood in front of him. “Why won’t you die?”
“No idea.” Arik stood, and the little bone spurs dropped to the ground.
Tavin came at him again, this time with a curved blade aimed at Arik’s neck. The demon wasn’t screwing around anymore. Most things—even immortal things—couldn’t survive decapitation. Arik ducked, swung, and managed to knock Tavin off course, but the dude was fast, and when he whirled, the silver blade filled Arik’s vision.
He dove to the ground, sweeping up one of the spurs as he rolled. In a quick move, he launched the tiny weapon, catching the demon in the gut. Tavin hissed in pain and dropped the blade. Arik took instant action, grabbing the dagger and doing a replay of his high school football days with a tackle that put Tavin on his back.
Arik jammed the blade against Tav’s throat. “You done?”
“Kill me,” Tav rasped. “Or I have to keep trying.”
The bone spur was going to kill him anyway, but it would be slow and painful as shit. Slitting Tavin’s throat would be a mercy. But dammit, the guy had helped Arik at great personal risk by slipping him extra water and giving him an escape route from Sheoul. And then there was the mind thing.
Arik eyed the demon, whose skin had gone ashen and slick with sweat. “You healed my body, but you also healed my mind, didn’t you? That’s why I’m not a slobbering blob of PTSD.”
Tavin’s eyes shot wide. For a moment Arik thought he was going to deny it, but a massive shudder shook him, and he gasped, “I have… a limited… ability. Mother… was a… pruosi.”
Pruosi. A species of demon that possessed off-the-chart mental abilities. So Tav had inherited a Seminus bodily gift from his sire, but also a mental one from his mother. Arik wondered what other gifts the demon was hiding.
And what information he might be hiding with them.
“What do you know about the khnives that were sent after me?”
“Nothing.” Tav groaned, and a trickle of blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth. “But look… outside Sheoul for the… perpetrator.” His pain-glazed eyes met Arik’s. “Khnives are spies. No demon would… use them as… assassins. Too unpredictable.”
Well, that news was disturbing as shit. Who outside of Sheoul wanted him dead?
Pounding footsteps vibrated the ground, and Limos and Ares were there, swords drawn and leveled at Tavin.
“I have it handled,” Arik said. “Tavin tried to kill me, but for some reason, I’m not dying.”
Ares whistled to one of his Ramreel servants, who was standing nearby. “Prepare the torture chamber.”
Jesus. Horsemen definitely didn’t mess around. He glanced at Limos, who glaredÀs, who g at him, and he wondered if she was imagining Arik in the torture chamber next to Tavin. Arik tossed the blade into the sand and shoved to his feet. No one was going to be tortured, and no one was going to kill Tavin, either.
“Did you hear the part where I’m not dying? I got stabbed in the gut, throat, and heart.” Arik rubbed his fingers over the skin on his neck. “Not that you’d know it.”
“I’ll be damned.” Ares shoved his sword into its scabbard. “Gethel said some of Reaver and Limos would be left behind when she ripped their souls out of you. I’d say you got some pieces of immortality.”
Tav, still lying on the ground, coughed, and blood sprayed. “I’m… off the hook if…” He sucked in a rattling breath. “… you’re immortal.”
Arik kneeled next to him and put his hand over the wound in the demon’s abdomen. “He needs a doctor.” Arik’s medic training wasn’t going to be worth jack shit in this situation.
“He tried to kill you,” Limos snapped. “What he needs is a beheading.”
“He helped me get out of Sheoul,” Arik said quietly. “And helped me keep my sanity.”
Ares swore. “I’ll take him to Underworld General. Fucking demons and their f**king demon hospital…”
He gathered Tav in his arms, opened a gate, and was gone, leaving Arik and Limos to stare at each other. Arik was pretty sure she was still mentally fitting him for chains and hot pokers.
“You lied to me.” She sheathed her sword, and he let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He could tell her it was to protect his colleagues and their relationship with The Aegis, and while that was true, he was going to go with the reason behind the lie in the first place.
“Because The Aegis believed that they could stop the Apocalypse. They did it for the sake of the world. I didn’t participate in the decision, but I had to believe they were doing it for the right reasons.” He paused, wondering how to break the rest to her. He decided on the bandage-removal method; do it fast. “Regan is pregnant.”
Limos inhaled sharply. “Is it… Than’s?”
“Yeah.” He watched her warily, hoping she didn’t blow like Thanatos had. That had been some scary shit, and an experience he never wanted to go through again. “One of the scrolls you led Kynan to indicated that if a Horseman and Guardian made a baby, the kid would save the world.”
“Oh, God.” Limos squeezed her eyes closed.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“No.” Her eyes were bloodshot when she opened them again. “I mean, I didn’t know about the scroll. But… I knew the chamber was a set-up.”
“I suspected as much,” he murmured. “I’m guessing Pestilence forced you?”
“Yes.” She looked so miserable he wanted to sweep her into his arms, but he didn’t trust himself to stop there. Oh, he wanted to forget all of this and move on to something much more pleasant, but they had to do this. They had to clear the air between them once and for all.
“All of this is because I wanted to cover up my lies.” Limos’s voice trembled. “All of this is because of me, Arik. It’s never going to end, is it?”
He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to touch her. Stepping close, he gripped her shoulders gently, but firmly. “It’ll end, Limos. But tell me, right now… is there anything else you’ve been hiding? Anything at all?”
“No,” she whispered. “You and my brothers know everything now. Well, they will, once I tell them about the chamber. And the baby.”
Relief nearly turned Arik’s muscles to noodles. They’d gotten past the lies and the secrets, and surely her brothers would forgive her, just as Runa—
Shame washed over him, and he nearly doubled over from the power of it. He’d kept so much from Runa. Yes, for her own good, but when Limos had done things for his own good, he’d been furious, because he could make his own choices.
Once again his hypocrisy became the air he breathed, and for a brief moment, darkness and self-loathing swallowed him.
“Arik?”
“I’m sorry, Limos.” Pressure filled his chest cavity until he felt like he might explode. “God, what an ass I’ve been. All this time I’ve hated lies, hated people who tell them. But it was okay for me to do it in the name of protecting people like they were too f**king weak to handle the truth.” Oh, man, his chest hurt. “My dad used to say Runa was weak. He said she bruised easily. Cried easily. He called her a little suckling runt.”
Limos put her hand on his shoulder, but he wheeled away, unable to bear comfort right now. Not when he didn’t deserve it.
“I never thought I treated her like she was weak, but by keeping things from her, that’s exactly what I did.” He rubbed his sternum, but it didn’t relieve the pressure at all. “And then I ran around hating everyone who lied and kept secrets, but shit… I think I didn’t hate them. I think I’ve hated me all this time.”
This time when Limos touched him and he tried to shake her off, she didn’t budge. She clung to him even as he backed away, tried to peel her off. Hell, he even yelled at her to let him go, but she hung on like a cowboy on a bronco.