“Reaver was about to go where angels feared to tread. He supposed that really did make him a—
“Fucking idiot.”
Reaver stared at Eidolon. “I was going to go with ‘fool.’ Also, only a fucking idiot would call an angel a fucking idiot."
The demon doctor stared back, his dark eyes glittering with gold flecks. “A fool would merely consider entering hell without a plan. Only a fucking idiot would be serious about waltzing into the Prince of Evil’s living room in the very center of hell to kidnap Satan’s little girl. Without a plan.”
“I have a plan,” he muttered.
Eidolon parked a tray of surgical tools next to the exam table Reaver was sitting on. “And your plan is?”
“Ah…it mostly involves sneaking in and sneaking out.”
“That's my girl," he murmured.
"I'm not your girl."
"Well," he said not bothering to hide his smile from her sightless eyes, "the good news is that the honey gave you back your sparkling personality."
"And the bad news?"
"The honey gave you back your sparkling personality.”
“Good luck, man." Wraith clapped him on the shoulder. "For an angel, you don't suck."
"Ditto. For a demon....well, you do suck."
"Because I'm half vampire?"
"Sure," Reaver said. "Let's go with that.”
“So," he said, "you really think having archangels string you up by your halo is worth saving this Harvester chick?"
"She saved the world"
Wraith shrugged. "So did I, but I don't see you offering up your holy ass to save me."
"Are you suffering unspeakable horrors at the hands of Satan?"
"No," Wraith said, "but sometimes I have to eat the hospital cafeteria food.”
“Fine,” he said. “You’re right. We’re not normal. We’re the most fucked-up, star-crossed lovers in history. So let’s not play nice.”
“I’ll always be here for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He locked his eyes with her. “You were always the one.”
“Harvester’s heart soared. Reaver had offered to castrate an archangel for her. How sweet was that?”
“Wraith shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets. "How long before we consider you overdue and mount a rescue party?"
"Never." Reaver shrugged into his shirt. "If I don't come back, it is because I'm either dead or in a situation that's too dangerous to get me out of."
"Oh," Sin said brightly-and sarcastically. "You mean like the situation Harvester is in."
Seminus demons were annoying no matter what gender. "Yes. Like that."
She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Good. Glad we're clear. Try to come back soon or we'll come after you.”
“I suggested that someone grab Bill Gates and get him to install a new operating system, but apparently he's not a demon" At Reaver's eye roll she nodded. "Right? I was surprised too.”
“You'll let me put a total stranger's piss hose in my mouth while my knees scream in agony on the hard floor? Right here in from of everyone? Gosh, such a hard thing to pass up. But you know, I'd rather eat Ebola pudding than let your sad little dick near me." She wiggled her fingers as she slipped past him. "Toodles" Oh, he needed to tap that.”
“You’re a pure, holy angel of goodness, and I’m Satan’s evil whore of a daughter. So yeah, we can’t work. Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious. But we can fuck.”
“He wouldn’t take anything from her ever again. But from this point on, he’d give her whatever she wanted. Which was easy, because what she wanted right now was an orgasm.”
“In three strides Reaver was on her, his mouth crushing hers. “No more bullshit,” he said against her lips. “I want you. I think I’ve always wanted you.”
“Harvester cocked a dark eyebrow. 'I swore an oath to watch over you. Not to put up with your shit. I'm not evil anymore, but I'm still not nice. Keep that in mind.”
“Harvester might have a halo, but dear, sweet Lord, she was no angel in the sack.
Awesome.”
“All she'd ever wanted was to be good, so it was ironic that in order to do good, she'd had to become bad. She'd had to make everyone she cared about hate her. She'd had to lose everything, from her self-respect to her wings to her dreams of having friends and a family with Yenrieth, the only person she'd ever loved.”
“Fortunately, all three assassins turned out to be excellent fighters. Tavin’s ability to explode eyeballs with a touch was especially impressive. It had definitely come in handy against a ten-foottall demon with butcher-knife-sized teeth and two dozen eyes.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Eyes everywhere. Some powers were meant for fun.”
“To the infinite, all finites are equal.”
“Lady Glendora herself had a love for the mountains and lakes, but it was a love of that kind which requires to be stimulated by society, and which is keenest among cold chickens, picnic-pies, and the flying of champagne corks.”
“And as he lost that softness of nature, so he lost his fear of men. He would watch for Oldring, biding his time, and he would kill this great black-bearded rustler who had held a girl in bondage, who had used her to his infamous ends.”
“Charlotte was used to all the marks of war: the shabbiness of things, bad food, shop queues, posters about the war effort, people with worried faces, people dressed in black. She was used to seeing the wounded men from the hospital with their bright blue uniforms and bright red ties, the colours, she thought, if not the clothes of Arthur's soldiers. Such things did not disturb her, and the war seemed quite remote. But this disturbed her, the grotesque kind of circus that came now. It did not seem remote at all, nor did it fit with her vague ideas of war gained from those books of Arthur's she had read, with their flags and glory and brave drummer boys. How could you dare to become a soldier, knowing that you might end like this? There were men like clowns with white heads, white arms, white legs, men with crutches, slings, and bloodied bandages, and all so distressingly like men you would expect to see walking down the street, two armed, two legged, in hats instead of bandages and suits of black not battered khaki. Some came on stretchers borne by whole and ordinary men, some hobbled and leaned on whole ordinary arms. Most had mud dried thick across their clothes, and all came from the dark station's mouth with the spewings of trains behind, the clankings, thumpings, grindings, the sounds like great devils taking in breaths and blowing them out again.”
“It is a sad truth, but it is a truth, indeed, that the knowledge of the human species far surpasses their wisdom.”
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