Reaver

Twenty-Six

Blaspheme hated days off work. Days off meant she had to find something to do with herself, and she’d rather not be that creative. But when Eidolon promoted her from paramedic to doctor a few months ago, she’d been given more duties, and she’d been put on call on her days off.

Awesome. She loved getting called into work, and with all the turmoil going on in Sheoul right now, there was plenty of work to go around.

She’d barely stepped out of the Harrowgate and into the packed emergency department when Eidolon pulled her aside. “Glad you’re here. I need you to take a look at Tavin.”

“Tavin? Wasn’t he released days ago?”

“Yeah.” Eidolon frowned. “But he’s got something weird going on with his dermoire.”

She automatically glanced at the sleeve of dermal glyphs on his right arm. “Shouldn’t that be your area of expertise?”

“His personal symbol changed. Idess says it’s angelic in nature, but there’s something wrong with it.” He lowered his voice as a Ramreel patient limped past, his hoof wrapped in bandages. “I was hoping you might have some insight.”

She stiffened. What would make him think she could give insight into something angelic in nature? False Angels were like false morels. Poisonous copies of the real things and related only in appearance.

“Do you mean False Angelic?”

“No.” He looked beyond her for a moment before meeting her gaze. “And on the subject of angels, stay away from Revenant.”

She frowned. “Who’s Revenant?”

“The male who was here about Limos. Tall. Lots of leather. Long black hair. Asshole.”

Right. Asshole. Now she remembered him. He’d generously offered to let her suck his cock. As if. Sure, he’d oozed danger and sex, and if she’d met him at a club, she’d probably have taken him home. Except he’d be the one doing the mouth workout. Not her.

“I wasn’t planning on hanging out with him or anything. Why do I need to stay away from him?”

The doctor’s voice went low again. “He’s a fallen angel.”

Her gut did a slow slide to her feet. She had a fallen angel interested in her. As much as she didn’t like the idea that Eidolon had seen through her False Angel facade, at least she trusted him. But fallen angels were hazardous to people like her.

They hunted her kind for sport.

“Understood,” she whispered.

E nodded briskly. “Good. Now go check on Tav. He’s in exam three.”

Knees wobbling, mind spinning in a haze, she made her way to Tavin’s room. He was sitting on the exam table, his black fatigues covering him from neck to ankles. Black combat boots completed his assassin attire. Well, the weapons completed it.

He looked tired, the dark crescents under his eyes swollen with exhaustion. He also looked ready to butcher something.

Just the way Revenant would look if he learned she wasn’t really a False Angel.

Stop it. You’re worried about nothing. He hasn’t been around in days. He may never come around again.

She squared her shoulders and put on her cheery doctor face. “Hi, Tavin. Eidolon said you have something to show me.”

“You could say that.” He tugged down his collar to reveal his personal Seminus symbol, the one his offspring would inherit just beneath their own symbols.

The markings would continue all the way to their fingertips, revealing the history of their paternity for dozens of generations. It was kind of cool, really. One glance at another Sem, and a Sem like Tavin or Eidolon could determine their relationship to each other. Tav and E, in fact, were related by a star symbol far back in their family dermoire.

She peered closely at the vaguely familiar snake symbol. The horned head rose up from a body coiled around a skull, and as she looked at it, she swore the tail moved. Squinting, she leaned closer.

“It looks like a—” She reared back. What had Eidolon said? An angelic symbol?

“What?” Tav let go of his shirt collar and twisted around to her. “What is it? Idess said it was an angelic protection symbol gone wrong.”

Blas shook her head. “It’s not angelic. It’s fallen angelic.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Angels and fallen angels draw their power from different sources,” she explained. “So they have different abilities and talents. For example, only an angel can create the patron cobra, and only a fallen angel can create what you have. The death cobra.”

Tavin snorted. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but it was an angel who did it. Not a fallen angel.”

She shook her head. “Impossible.”

“I’m telling ya,” he said with a shrug.

She wasn’t going to argue. Not when she knew she was right. “Just for shits and giggles, let’s say it’s the death cobra.”

“But I don’t want it to be the death cobra,” Tavin blurted. “That sounds really fucking bad.”

“It is. It’s a curse.”

“A curse? You mean, like a curse curse. Like, a bad curse?”

There really wasn’t any other kind, but seeing how the patient was getting worked up, she didn’t point that out.

“Yeah. A bad curse.”

Tavin swallowed, and the snake shifted. Damn, that freaked her out. And she was used to weird shit.

“Okay, so what am I cursed with, and how can I get rid of it?”

“I don’t know how to get rid of it. As for the curse…” She blew out a long breath. “Poison. I’m sorry, Tav, but it’s an ancient assassination curse, not even used anymore. Every time you agitate the snake, it’ll bite. You’ll eventually die. “

“Assassination?”

She nodded. “Ironic, yes?” His flat stare said he didn’t appreciate the irony. “I’ll see what I can find out about it. We’ll all work on this, Tav.”

Her name badge should read: DR. BULLSHIT. Curses were not easily broken.

“Fuck.” Tavin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Live by the poison, die by the poison. Awesome. I have a new mantra.”

Well, she thought, it was better than hers: Live a lie, die a liar.

Don’t borrow trouble. You’ve survived almost two hundred years without a problem. Keep your head down and your nose clean.

The curtain swished open, and Gem entered, all perky despite the fact that she’d been on shift for twenty-four hours. She must be getting ready to go home to her hot-as-hell husband and their daughter.

“Hey.” Gem thrust a note and a single black rose into Blaspheme’s hand. “Someone left this for you. Very romantic.” She acknowledged Tavin with a wave. “I’m outta here. See you later.”

Blas barely heard a word. Her gaze was glued to the note, to the block script that turned her blood to ice. No, not ice, because thorns on the rose stem dug into her hand, and blood trickled down her wrist and dripped onto the paper.

I’ll see you soon. Very soon.

It was signed.

Revenant.