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She sank do ">She sawn on the mattress and took Thanatos’s hand. “Hey. I know you can hear me. Everything is going to be okay. We can get Kynan to explain about Regan—” She broke off as Than’s lip peeled back again, and there went the teeth.

This time, though, crimson spokes flashed in his yellow irises, and a scorching burst of heat came off his body. His tattoos writhed, the scythe on his neck slashing at the scorpion.

Taking a deep breath, she eased off the bed and backed away, but the banked rage in him continued to burn.

Looked like they not only had the mystery of why he was fangy, but it was also apparent that he was still a very, very angry Horseman, and that was never a good thing.

Thirty-six

Reaver stood atop Mount Megiddo and cursed. Cursed until clouds swirled above him in an angry black vortex, and then he cursed some more. He couldn’t get to Heaven, not until his wings grew back. This was like being an Unfallen again, stuck between realms and practically powerless.

At least here he could call to his Heavenly brethren… assuming they’d answer. His body was full of marrow wine—but not enough. He craved it so bad he was shaking, and he either needed to score some more or get clean, and right now his brain was too pickled to consider the clean thing.

His scalp grew tight, and he turned as a strike of lightning torched the earth a few yards away. When it was gone, Harvester stood there with a burlap bag in her hand, her eyes glowing, her lips as blood red as the wine she’d forced down his throat.

“Someone’s a little pissed.”

Pissed didn’t cover it, and it took every ounce of restraint Reaver had not to launch himself at her. “What have you done?”

Cocking her head, Harvester smiled at him. “You just found out why I kept you prisoner, I see.” Thunder cracked, and rain pelted them with big, stinging drops. With a wave, she cast an invisible umbrella that shielded them both. “We couldn’t very well have you telling The Aegis not to send anyone to fuck Thanatos, now could we?”

Some of his fury evaporated, replaced by a sudden suspicion. She didn’t seem at all upset that Than’s Seal hadn’t broken, which told him she’d known it wouldn’t. Ending the Horseman’s celibacy hadn’t been the goal, had it?

“How did you know that his Seal wouldn’t break?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course I thought it would break.”

She was lying. But why? He looked up at the churning clouds and then back down at the evil fallen angel and realization dawned. “You know what Thanatos’s agimortus is, don’t you?”

“No idea.”

“You lie.” He lunged ,for her, but without his wings, she was faster, and his hand closed on empty air.

She stood three yards away, smirking. “I would never lie. I’m outraged that you would think that of me.”

“Outraged, my holy ass.” He ground his teeth. “How is it that you know about Thanatos’s agimortus and I don’t?”

“I’m special. You’re an angel with no memory of his past and with especially dirty wings. Oh, wait, you don’t have any wings at all, do you?” She reached into the bag she was holding. “Brought you something. Enjoy.” She tossed a bottle at him, and he caught it one-handed before realizing he should have let it break apart on the rocks.

Marrow wine. The flask burned his skin, almost as if it were sinking roots into his palm. Rain began to pelt him. Harvester was gone.

The wine… he watched in horror as his body disconnected from his mind, watched as he uncorked the flask and lifted it to his lips.

Stronger than this. I’m stronger than this.

The words penetrated his brain, but not because they were true. It was because he’d said them before, and he’d been wrong. But when? Why? The hazy memory was about as substantial as a phantom and harder to pin down. But the fact that he had any recollection, no matter how fuzzy, was a miracle.

Maybe a touch of Arik’s military-honed ability to recall important details was what had clung to Reaver when Gethel had separated his soul from the human’s. Interesting.