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  “Azagoth? Did you hear me?”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. I fuck up, Heaven loses its shit. I get it.” He didn’t give a hellrat’s ass right now. He had to uncover who had poisoned Lilliana.

  Moloc, probably. And even if he hadn’t, it didn’t matter. Bael’s half-soul had merged with Moloc’s half-soul, and Bael had been responsible for the deaths of several of Azagoth’s children.

  So, Moloc would pay. And so would whoever had actually delivered the poison to Lilliana.

  But who was it?

  One of the fallen angels who had served him for centuries? One of the Unfallen who lived here, trading their services for protection from True Fallen angels who would drag them to Hell to complete their fall from grace?

  One of his children?

  The idea that one of his progeny would betray him should have brought denial and pain, but it had happened before. More than once. And, why not? Most had never met him, and those who had barely knew him.

  His children had all grown up in the human realm, believing they were as human as those who raised them. The truth about their origins and their real parents only came when they were whisked away as adults by an older Memitim sibling to begin a life of angelic duties. They trained for years, learning to use their powers and to fight. They were educated on the histories of humans, angels, and demons…and they were taught to despise him.

  A few had come to him over the millennia, back when his realm was a charred, blackened ruin that reflected what Azagoth had become. But after Lilliana arrived, more of his children showed up, some of them several hundreds of years old. They’d started training with the Unfallen, and eventually, Sheoul-gra had become a thriving community. Azagoth had even brought in every remaining child from the human realm. Just two days ago, he’d ordered the construction of a pool with a waterfall, a slide, and two diving boards to help them adjust.

  So as much as he loved having his children in Sheoul-gra, he also knew it was a risk. They’d all gone through hellish childhoods, abandoned by their mothers to be raised by the worst that humankind had to offer, all to give them perspective, or some crap.

  What it did was teach them to despise the beings who’d fucked them into existence, only to abandon them in the shittiest conditions imaginable.

  Yep, he understood why Memitim might betray him.

  But what if someone close to him had? Someone like…Zhubaal. Or Razr.

  He shook his head, not wanting to go down that road. Not yet. It was far more likely that the person was outside his inner circle. Close, but not wholly trusted.

  Someone like…Jim Bob.

  He eyed the angel speculatively. Jim Bob had never given Azagoth any reason not to trust him…but that would be the goal of anyone trying to play him. “Did you give Lilliana anything recently?”

  One tawny eyebrow arched. “Yes. My condolences for being mated to you.”

  “Besides that. Anything edible? A gift?”

  “I’m not that nice.”

  Azagoth believed him, but he wasn’t willing to risk his mate’s life on the male’s word. Jim Bob would remain a suspect until Azagoth had the person who tried to kill his child at the eviscerating end of his scythe.

  And then maybe, just maybe, life could finally get back to normal.

  Chapter 7

  Underworld General’s emergency department was almost always in a state of chaos. Which Eidolon figured was to be expected when its patients and staff members consisted of hundreds of species of demons, were-creatures, vampires, shifters, and fallen angels.

  And most of them didn’t get along. A lot of them had long-standing feuds between their kinds. Some were justifiably hated because their entire species were a bunch of dicks. Others had a predator/prey dynamic going on. Just today, Eidolon had treated a quillminder while the Dire Mantis who’d tried to eat him was being patched up one room over.

  If not for the anti-violence spell, the place would be bathed in a lot more blood than it already was. But just because people couldn’t bite, stab, or gut each other, didn’t mean they couldn’t scream their bloody heads off. Right now, at least five patients, two nurses, and a physician were engaged in shouting matches.

  As if that weren’t enough to make Eidolon long for a vacation, the hospital’s Harrowgate, part of the transportation system that allowed underworlders to travel instantly to millions of other Harrowgates around the human and demon realms, had stopped working. And so had the gate that connected the New York-based hospital with the London-based clinic from which Blaspheme was currently AWOL for the third day in a row now.

  The only other entrance was via the parking lot’s concealed doorway that opened into a Manhattan parking garage on a busy street. And that meant demons who couldn’t pass as human couldn’t come or go unless they could teleport or make themselves invisible.

  Naturally, tempers were flaring.

  The hospital was going to have to start using the cover of ambulances to ferry people out of here when the vehicles weren’t being used for active calls.

  Eidolon was about to hand down the order to do just that when one of the technicians working on the Harrowgate called to him. The tech, a werewolf who worked at a human software company, stepped out, the physics of the gate making it appear as if he’d walked out of thin air from between two pillars.

  “I think we isolated the problem.” He rubbed his head, making his already unkempt blond man bun flop over. “Looks like there’s a bug in the coding for the European continent.”

  “Can you fix it?”

  Man Bun tapped the tablet in his hand as he spoke. “We’re working on it.”

  That wasn’t the answer Eidolon wanted to hear, but it was probably the best answer he’d get right now.

  “Yo, E!” Wraith, Eidolon’s youngest brother, and the only blond in the family—if only thanks to bleach—sauntered through the sliding doors from the ambulance bay and parking lot, his ancient leather duster kicking up around a battle-worn pair of combat boots.

  Those were his hunting clothes, the weapons evident on his harness nothing compared to those that weren’t visible. As a vampire and a Seminus demon, he had an impressive set of fangs and crazy vampire speed.

  He cut through the crowd of patients in a dance of nimble steps and spins as if he were having fun. He probably was. Wraith had always been most comfortable in the middle of chaos. Often, he was the chaos.

  Man Bun stared in awe before disappearing into the translucent, shimmering doorway of the Harrowgate. Wraith had earned his reputation as a legend, and he couldn’t go anywhere without someone wanting to either “kill me or fuck me,” at least, according to Wraith. Though from what Eidolon had seen, it was largely true.

  Unfortunately for the ones who wanted to kill him, Wraith was protected by an invincibility charm, and those who wanted to fuck him found that he was one hundred percent fiercely devoted to his vampire mate, Serena.

  “Not now, Wraith.” Eidolon sighed. “We’ve got problems.”

  “No shit?” Wraith jerked his thumb toward the sliding doors. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Three fucking fallen angels just popped into the parking lot.”

  Cursing, because…seriously, what else could go wrong today, Eidolon started toward the parking lot but pulled up short when he saw Lilliana and her two ever-present bodyguards heading toward the Harrowgate. Maddox and Journey, both dressed in jeans and dark tees, flanked Lilliana, Maddox with a duffel slung over his shoulder. Lilliana glowed in a turquoise and white dress and sandals, her long hair pulled back with jeweled gold combs. No one would have guessed that just hours ago, she’d been close to losing her child.

  “This can’t be a coincidence,” he muttered. “The day we have a VIP getting ready to leave, the Harrowgate shuts down, and fallen angels pay a visit?”

  He met Lilliana at the OUT OF ORDER sign in front of the gate. “As you can see, we have a bit of a—”

  “Clusterfuck,” Wraith offered as he greet
ed Journey and Maddox with high-fives.

  “Situation.” Eidolon shot Wraith a glare. “Although my brother isn’t wrong,” he admitted.

  Lilliana’s ever-present smile faded. “What kind of situation?”

  “Our exits are temporarily inaccessible.”

  “So we’re stuck here?” A shadow of worry darkened her expression. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

  “Harrowgate malfunctions are rare,” he said. “But you’d be surprised how often jackasses hijack the parking lot.”

  “Word.” Wraith swung back around to Eidolon. “Speaking of jackasses, I saw Revenant.”

  Interesting. Revenant’s status as the King of Hell left him with no spare time, and no one saw him much anymore.

  “Is he here?”

  “Nah. He came by the house last night.” Wraith bared his fangs at a pink-skinned Oni demon that had dared to bump into him. “Brought a book I guess Serena wanted to borrow from Blaspheme.”

  “Did he tell you why Blaspheme hasn’t shown up for work in three days?”

  “Nope.” Wraith frowned. “I didn’t know she was missing. Come to think of it, he seemed more dickish than normal.”

  An uneasy feeling settled over Eidolon. While the Harrowgate, parking lot angels, Blaspheme, and Revenant could all be unrelated, Eidolon had learned to trust his gut, and his intuition said that everything was tied together somehow.

  Lilliana wobbled, and Eidolon grabbed her, keeping her steady as he eased her onto a seat.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I just got a touch woozy. Guess I’m still a little tired.”

  “That’s to be expected,” Eidolon assured her. “You’ve been through an ordeal, and there’s a lot going on. We’ll figure out a way to get you out of the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll get a couple dozen Memitim over here,” Journey said as he dialed his phone. “They can distract the fallen angels while we flash Lilliana out from the parking lot.” He scowled down at his phone. “What the hell?”

  “What is it?” Lilliana asked.

  “My phone’s not working. No service on either the human or demon networks.”

  “Ditto.” Maddox shook his phone as if it would help.

  All around, people were suddenly complaining that they couldn’t send or receive calls or texts. Eidolon’s sense of unease became flat-out alarm as if every heart monitor in the hospital suddenly flat-lined.

  They were trapped, and if the hospital’s landlines weren’t working, they had no way to call for help. At the very moment the Grim Reaper’s pregnant mate was supposed to be leaving.

  “Gem!” he shouted at one of his best physicians—also his sister-in-law—as she jogged toward him. “I need you to check—”

  “Cell and landline service is down,” she called out. Well, that took care of that. “And there are asshole fallen angels in the parking lot. They won’t let anyone leave.”

  “I don’t like this.” Journey shifted closer to Lilliana, hovering protectively. “We need to get her out of here.”

  Wraith jerked his chin at the sliding bay doors. “I’ll handle the angels.”

  Lilliana put her hand out to grip Wraith’s sleeve. “Please, don’t. I don’t want anyone risking their lives on my account.”

  “She’s right.” Maddox shifted the duffel. “I know you have superpowers or some shit, and I’ve seen you fight, but those are fallens out there. You think you can take on one, let alone three?”

  Journey’s dark brows pulled together in confusion. “Yeah. I thought your invincibility mojo didn’t work on angels.”

  Wraith grinned, his vampire fangs glistening. “Reaver tweaked it so I can battle the fallen. Pretty cool, huh?”

  Eidolon had been furious about that. Wraith didn’t need more excuses to be reckless. Yeah, Wraith had settled down considerably, especially now that he had a mate and son to go home to, but a well-fed predator was still a predator.

  “But we could still kick your ass, right?” Maddox asked.

  Wraith snorted. “You could try.”

  “Males.” Lilliana huffed, and Eidolon chuckled despite the dire situation.

  He liked her, and she seemed to be exactly what a male like Azagoth needed in his life. A strong soul with a gentle spirit. Someone who could stand up to him but also make him laugh.

  Eidolon needed to get her back to the Grim Reaper safely. “Why don’t we take you to my office to wait?” he said to her. “And, Wraith, I want you to sit this one out—” He broke off as Wraith sauntered out the doors to the parking lot. “Dammit.”

  “Oh, no,” Lilliana whispered as, through the glass, they all watched Wraith walk toward the leather-bound trio, one fallen swinging a thick chain in his fist.

  The other two, one male and one female, held flaming axes, and all three popped their leathery black wings at Wraith’s approach. The female smiled, a sinister, knowing grin that chilled Eidolon to the bone and dropped a load of ice into his gut.

  His feet moved even before his brain kicked in. He sprinted to the door, and as they slid open, he yelled, “Wraith, get out of there!”

  Wraith turned, and as he did, Chainfist struck out, his weapon cracking against Wraith’s skull with a sickening, wet crunch. Wraith launched into the air and slammed into the rear doors of an ambulance fifty feet away before landing on the pavement, blood pouring from his head.

  That didn’t just happen.

  It couldn’t have. Nothing should be able to touch Wraith…not unless he’d turned off the charm that made him invincible. But why would he do something that stupid?

  “Wraith!” Eidolon started toward him, but he slammed against an invisible forcefield and the other two angels reached Wraith first.

  Wraith suddenly pivoted on the ground, swinging his legs around to catch one of the evil assholes in the legs.

  Way to go, bro!

  The female angel crumpled, but the remaining male brought his axe down hard, broadsiding it against Wraith’s ribs. Wraith’s scream and the sound of breaking bones echoed through the parking lot—and Eidolon’s head.

  He watched helplessly as the two axe-happy angels hoisted Wraith up, hanging him by the shoulders between their bodies.

  Blood poured down Wraith’s face and neck, matting his hair, streaking his skin. Eidolon wasn’t even sure he was conscious anymore. His body was limp, his head hanging loosely on his neck.

  Chainfist swung around to Eidolon. “Give us the female.”

  Eidolon swallowed his rage, knowing he needed to play their game if he wanted his brother back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Azagoth’s whore!” the guy yelled. “Give her to me, or your brother dies.”

  Eidolon instinctively looked back into the emergency department. The once unruly crowd was quiet now, all eyes on him.

  Including Lilliana’s. Horrified, she stood near the front, sandwiched between Journey and Maddox, her face pale, her hand covering her mouth.

  “Now, demon!”

  Fuck that. Eidolon might have to play the game, but he’d do it on his time schedule and his terms. He’d dealt with a lot of powerful assholes in his life, and he’d faced worse odds. With casual deliberation, he turned back to the fallen angel.

  “You know that’s not going to happen,” he said calmly. “Let’s discuss this. Release my brother, and—”

  Wraith screamed, his head thrown back in agony. For a second, Eidolon didn’t know why. Then he watched in disbelief as a glowing sword pierced his chest, thrust slowly forward from behind.

  Right through the heart.

  “No,” Eidolon croaked. “No!”

  Chainfist flung Wraith’s body past Eidolon and through the double doors. “Let this be your first lesson,” he said. “Tell everyone you know. Hell is getting a regime change. Discussion time is over.”

  The angels dematerialized, taking the forcefield and leaving devastation, shock, and horror behind.

  Tears blurred Eidolon’s vision
as he stumbled to Wraith and sank to his knees beside him. Gem was there, and so was Chu-hua and Vladlena, and others…he couldn’t keep track of everyone trying desperately to save Wraith. But it was too late.

  That space inside where he could sense all his living siblings, had emptied of Wraith. The gaping hole swallowed Eidolon, taking his hearing, his thoughts, his ability to function.

  A roar of agony echoed through the hospital. Shade, he thought dazedly. It was Shade.

  Eidolon watched in an almost dreamlike trance as his brother ran into the emergency department, one hand clutching his chest. He skidded to a halt, meeting Eidolon’s gaze with one full of agony.

  “Oh, gods,” he rasped. “Oh, gods!” He hit the floor next to Eidolon, his arm glowing as he punched his gift into their brother. “Help me, E! Fucking help me!”

  Knowing it was useless but wanting to ease Shade’s pain as much as he could, Eidolon channeled his own Seminus healing waves into Wraith.

  But neither of them could repair a heart split in half by an enchanted blade.

  “He’s gone,” Eidolon whispered after what seemed like hours. “Fuck me, our brother is gone.”

  Shade’s sobs filled the stunned, silent room.

  “Eidolon?” Lilliana’s shaken voice pierced Eidolon’s shroud of pain. “I-I don’t mean to interfere, but something strange is going on.” She glanced down at Wraith, her eyes filled with tears. “Griminions haven’t reaped his soul.”

  Shade lifted his head in jerky, drunken motions. “What?”

  “Griminions sense death the moment it happens,” she said. “They show up almost immediately. They should have been here by now.”

  “Maybe they have been,” Maddox offered, his voice low and respectful. “You probably can’t see them. Few can, outside of Sheoul-gra.”

  “I can see them,” she insisted. “I think the baby has given me the ability, and I’m telling you, they haven’t come.”

  “Maybe he’s not dead.” Journey’s voice was threaded with hope. False hope.

  “I’m a doctor,” Eidolon said, his own voice ragged with defeat. “I assure you, my brother is gone.”