Page 110 of Legacy of Temptation

He shrugged because it was all in the past. And truthfully, much of the reason for that was thanks to Eva.

“Humans don’t tend to react well to finding out who I am. Aegi especially despise me, and it’s not even because of my demon blood. It’s all about my parents.”

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t be judged for their sins.”

He blinked. “Their sins?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot. “I mean, the history of the Horsemen is written in blood. Literally. You should see some of our books. And your mom…” She shook her head. “She betrayed The Aegis and your dad. Your parents’ story isn’t exactly an enemies-to-lovers romance.”

What a load of shit. Sure, his father wasn’t a saint or anything, but Eva was way off base about his mom and The Aegis’s role in what happened when he was born.

“I’ll give you the part about my dad.” Thanatos had thousands of years of atrocities behind him, and there was no sugarcoating that. Sitting through history classes at school had been a special kind of hell. “But my mom didn’t betray The Aegis. They betrayedherwhen they tried to kill me.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “Is that what they told you?”

He really did not like the turn this conversation was taking. “You have a different version of events?”

She appeared to consider her wording, finally deciding on, “Every Guardian learns Aegis history, and trust me, that whole thing with your mom, Thanatos, and you is a three-day course all by itself. I actually did an hour-long Aegis TV special about it last year. Won a Hellfire Journalism Award.”

He hoped he wasn’t supposed to congratulate her. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for whatever bullshit she was about to spew. “What’s The Aegis’s side of the story? How do you guys spin being tricked by Pestilence into attempting to murder me?”

“Tricked by Pestilence?” Their gazes met, and her expression softened, sparking another stupid desire to take her into his arms and dart through Ares’ gate before her colleagues could stop him. “Look, let’s not do this. It’s not important, and we’ve got a lot more urgent things to worry about.”

“Agreed.”

She cast a furtive glance at her Aegis buddies, her eyes narrowing at Maja before turning her attention back to him.

“I—” She shook her head as if clearing her mind of the words she’d been about to say, and a wall seemed to slam down between them. In an instant, she became the professional, no-nonsense Aegi he’d met that first day. “I’d appreciate it if you could arrange to have my things delivered from your place.” She unhooked Mace’s comms device with two mechanical, precise motions, and handed it to him. “Please thank Mace for me again. Take care, Logan.”

As far as dismissals went, it wasn’t afuck you. But it sure felt like it as he watched her go, his emotions popping off in every direction like fireworks. She’d just pissed him off. But he didn’t want her to go. She worked for the enemy. But she hadn’t felt like the enemy last night in bed.

Dumbass. It’s for the best. Draven is in trouble, the sky is raining angel blood, and Lilith is trying to hurt everyone you love. Eva is nothing but a distraction.

It was true. All of it. He had to forget Eva.

But first, he was going to find that damn award-winning video.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Reaver had spent time in Hell. A lot of time. Well, it hadfeltlike a lot of time. If you weren’t a demon, a day seemed like a year in Sheoul.

But in most regions of Heaven, no one noticed the passing of time. Mainly because it was just that awesome.

Unless you were being held in a Heavenly prison made from the minds of dozens of Celestials.

Physically, Reaver was hanging by his arms from threads of spun crystal connected to every Archangel except Metatron and Gabriel. He didn’t know where they were, but he’d seen the others connected to the threads, and their powers channeled into one single purpose.

Keeping Reaver imprisoned.

Back when Reaver had been gifted the rare, coveted, and ultimate angelic status of Radiant, he’d been told that, as the most powerful angel in existence, he couldn’t be brought to heel or destroyed by anyone or anything save Satan, God, and the Council of Orders.

They weren’t going to destroy him—Metatron would be needed for that, and there was no way Uncle Met would agree. But apparently, Metatron wasn’t needed toimprisonReaver, and it didn’t make him feel any better that the Archangels were also prisoners, forced by the crystal threads to channel their power into a brig crafted from their thoughts and nightmares.

Some of these Archies were seriously messed up.

Didn’t matter. Reaver ran, swam, flew, and crawled through every scenario thrown at him. He’d been swallowed by giant flaming space grubs, ripped apart by millions of eyeless frogs with razors for claws, and chased by oily demons with swordlike penises. He’d lived through scores of nightmares now, but he welcomed them.

He learned from them. He’d discovered that if he looked hard enough, he could determine the owner of the nightmare. Once he knew that, he could manipulate the dreams and draw the owner out. Sometimes, that meant a better scenario. Other times, he could interact with whatever Archangel was running the show.

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