Reapers of the Dark (Cora Roberts #4)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Tell me lies. Tell me sweet little lies.

P eace was something every soul desired. The conflict came from the differing views of what that peace looked like and how it could be achieved. Most people went about their business coveting an easy life, one without confrontation. It’s why we told white lies. Yes, that shade of neon yellow suits you; no, you do not look ridiculous with your hair like that; of course, that was the best chicken pot pie I’ve ever tasted. We wanted to make others happy and avoid unnecessary drama. The world would be a worse place if we stopped telling these tiny lies aimed not to hurt, but to soothe.

The issue came when those lies spilled into more dangerous territory by keeping monumental secrets from those you loved. Where did you draw the line? How far would you go to protect the lies you wove? Who were you prepared to hurt?

A quick glance around the ground floor showed Maggie had cleared it of guests, ready for the meeting about to take place. This was the meeting before the actual meeting; one giving the powerhouses of the factions their say before I snuck off to my secret rendezvous—one Hudson didn’t know about. It’s not like I could tell him. We all bore a lip-locking spell, which would only release when all of us agreed. That didn’t make me feel better. Secrets were still secrets.

I flung open the door to greet Abaddon, my father, and Lucifer, my uncle. I blinked at them both. What on earth? “Why are you wearing matching pink Disneyland T-shirts?” Somehow, they pulled it off.

Lucifer smirked. “I lost a bet.”

“As did I,” my father drawled. I didn’t want to know.

“But it was worth it, because I am secure enough in my masculinity to rock a shirt declaring all I need is faith, trust, and pixie dust.”

My father slanted a look at Lucifer. “Ironic for a being that operates against faith and makes destroying trust a sport.”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to point out the obvious. To believe in the Devil, one had to accept the existence of God. My father’s shirt had a picture of Tigger declaring himself to be the only one. Well, that was a fact. “Come in before anyone sees you and reports me for suspicious activity—again.”

Abaddon swept in, the wards shivering as his power brushed against mine. Lucifer winked as he followed him inside and handed me a rolled-up piece of sky-blue fabric.

“What’s this?” I shook it out and chuckled as the faces of the Sanderson sisters around a cauldron greeted me with the slogan, “I smell a child.”

“You know you are perpetuating the archaic belief of witches being evil?”

Lucifer fluttered his hand against his chest. “Witches aren’t evil, Cora, you know this. In today’s world, people actually revere them. Long gone are the threats of stakes and drowning. It’s honestly alarming how society has evolved to embrace the dark arts.”

Alarming? Ha. I’m sure that was the reaction the Devil had at being worshiped.

“Well, thank you,” I called out, making sure not to upset the angel of death.

“It’s from me, not father of the year over there,” Lucifer muttered. “He wanted to get you a Diego plushie.”

“Because I’m mated to a shifter? How original.”

“I heard that,” Abaddon shouted as he pulled out the chair at the head of the dining table and folded himself into it opposite Hudson. Rebecca sat in her normal seat on the left of Hudson, and I took my place on his other side. Her lips twitched as my mate and my father stared each other down. Save me now. All this male posturing was making me itch.

Aunt Liz floated down the stairs, followed by Dangerous Dave, the pack’s head of security, and my aunt’s lover. Dave froze as he took in the double angel assault before taking a seat next to Liz.

Sebastian was the last supernatural to join us, while Harry hovered at the edge of the room. My father spared him a glance before dismissing him.

“Did I miss the memo?” Sebastian asked.

Ugh. Don’t antagonize the scary heavenly being.

“What memo?” Abaddon answered.

I shot Sebastian a scathing look. Don’t do it.

“The ‘wear a silly T-shirt to the meeting’ memo. Or is it Wednesday?”

Rebecca chuckled at the Mean Girls reference.

My father’s brows drew together. “It’s Friday. What has that got to do with it?”

“Snacks will be out shortly,” Maggie called from the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation. Never thought I’d see the day I considered Maggie’s snacks a saving grace, but these were strange times.

“Tell me it’s not true,” Lucifer grumbled. “You live to torture us, Cora.”

I snorted. He ruled over a realm specializing in torture, yet feared a teenage bobcat’s homemade snacks.

“Why is your hair like that?” my father asked as we waited for Maggie. I couldn’t throw up the ward protecting our conversation until she delivered the food, so we had to endure small talk for now.

I lifted my hand and found a fuzzy cloud on my crown. My eyes shot to Hudson, whose hair was in equal disarray. He threw me a smug look, making my cheeks heat.

“Because she was getting her freak on,” Lucifer deduced. “That’s why they kept us waiting on the porch.”

“That’s incredibly rude, daughter,” Abaddon declared. “We had a set meeting time. It’s not like we called on you unannounced.”

My mouth opened, but Hudson cut me off. “Unannounced, no, but uninvited, yes. My mate needed to blow off a little steam before dealing with your angel squabbling.”

“I don’t need an invitation; I’m the most powerful being in this room,” my father snapped as he allowed a little of his icy-hot power to flash. The supernaturals surrounding me froze for a beat, their senses warning them of the imminent danger.

“Hey. You know the rules—no fighting in my house. Take it outside,” I told them.

Somehow, Summer Grove House had become the unofficial supernatural meeting place. It’s not something I asked for, but given I am dating the lord of the shifters, my father was an archangel, my best friends were vampire royalty, and my uncle ruled the underworld, it seemed I was the common thread which could bring the factions together to devise a plan to deal with our common enemy. My grandmother.

Eloise Roberts was currently the worst person to inhabit Earth. She had tried to unite the factions and become their de facto ruler while orchestrating plans to reveal our existence to humanity. When that failed, she moved on to stealing power from demons to fuel a spell designed to turn humans into elementals to build herself a loyal army. Again, that was a bust, but she had pissed off Lucifer and made a formidable enemy.

Humanity might have an obsession with fantasy worlds and the unnatural, but they believed it to be fictional. They feared the unexplainable, and the second they felt threatened, the moment they realized they were no longer at the top of the food chain, the world would dissolve into chaos. It didn’t matter that we’d coexisted for millennia and had no designs to enslave or destroy them—it would be war.

Eloise wanted to force us out into the open. My grandmother had always been a larger-than-life entity during my childhood. I had both feared and been in awe of her. Then I grew up, and she put her ambitions above the welfare of her only grandchild. She kidnapped and tortured me once she understood I wasn’t just another elemental to be manipulated. I was a Nephilim, and archangel blood ran hot in my veins. She wanted that power for herself. She wouldn’t need elaborate plans to grow the elemental population if she had me at her side, as my power would be at her fingertips, which she could siphon again and again as needed.

She was counting on Hudson taking the packs and disappearing, something they’d done before, but not under his rule. During the witch trials, the shifters hid out in the less hospitable areas of the planet, while the humans got over their aversion to the unexplainable. And in the 90s, during a resurgence of Satan worshiping, they again laid low. Unfortunately for her, Hudson was made of sterner stuff, and now that he took me as his mate, tucking tail and running wasn’t an option.

Maggie walked into the dining room, and I felt a sense of pride that she could do so without shaking in fear. She had come a long way since she arrived on my doorstep, scared, homeless, and starved.

She placed two platters on the dining table with a flourish and tucked her long brown hair behind her ears with her eyes on the floor. We still had work to do. One day, she would gaze into the eyes of any man and know she was safe because she had an army at her back, led by me.

“Vegetarian.” She pointed at the large platter between me and Rebecca. “And normal,” she said with a nod at the other one.

“I resent the word normal when used to describe non-vegetarian food,” Rebecca muttered.

Dave’s lip curled. “Unnatural is an excellent description for a vampire who refuses to eat meat.”

Maggie took an uncertain step back before rushing off to gather drinks.

“Is there a way of knowing what each thing is?” my father asked as he eyeballed the impressively colorful plate. What food was purple? Beetroot? Cabbage?

“Best to go in blind,” Sebastian offered as he grabbed a little square of toast topped with some kind of brown meat. He chewed thoughtfully as we waited for the verdict. He reached for another one. It must be okay. I chewed my lip as the vegetarian option seemed to stare at me.

Rebecca caught my eye and gestured to my plate. “Elementals first.”

“Chicken,” I muttered as I selected one of the bright green wafers with some kind of thick creamy substance on top. I crossed my fingers and popped the whole thing in my mouth and grimaced. What the hell? What was that in the middle? An eyeball, my stupid brain supplied. A shudder ran over my shoulders as I fought the urge to spit it out. To pop, or not pop? That was the question.

Maggie reappeared with a tray of drinks. I wish I didn’t have to chew, but swallowing whatever this was would probably cause it to lodge in my throat, and I’d end up with a depressing headstone. Cora Roberts—survived horrific torture but couldn’t manage a snack.

“How is it?” she asked. I eyeballed the tray of drinks and willed her to hurry up so I could wash this down. She started at the other end of the table and allowed my father to snag the Diet Coke. Guess I would have to swallow unaided. The option to let this sit on my tongue while she served the other supernaturals was unappealing.

I gave her a thumbs up as a brush of fur rubbed up against my legs. The White Furry Menace was here to witness my pain and snub the human food with gifts of the rodent variety. Sadly, they were more appealing.

The lump slid down my throat, and I worked hard to force it to remain in my stomach and not regurgitate it like some momma bird. “That’s different,” I managed.

She grinned. “Spinach wafer topped with cream cheese.”

On the surface, it seemed like a good idea. But in true Maggie style, she had somehow taken inert ingredients that went well together and drove them apart like magnets. Hudson’s hand moved toward the same snack.

“Did you put your own spin on it?” I wondered.

She nodded. “It seemed a little boring and predictable, so I added a little fresh ginger, some grated lime, and sugar to balance out the zest. Oh, and a little surprise olive.” That accounted for the eyeball and the odd competing flavors that rioted on my tongue—and not in a good way.

Hudson changed course and snatched a mini round sandwich with a pink filling. Pink was a no for me when it came to food. My brain did not find the color appetizing.

Abaddon choked at the other end of the table, his eyes watering. The world was right once more when the angel of death got to be tortured like the rest of us. “What is—” Aunt Liz cut him a scathing look, and Abaddon’s words died on his tongue, much like his taste buds. He snapped his mouth closed.

“Thank you for all the time and effort you put into providing these delicious snacks, Maggie,” my aunt said.

The supernaturals chorused their agreement. If there was one good thing about being brought up around a tyrannical bitch, it was the ability to force everyone to their will with little more than a look.

“Thanks, guys,” Maggie said as she finished doling out the drinks. I thankfully got the pink lemonade made by Aunt Liz. “There will be fresh cookies ready after your super secret meeting, which I absolutely know nothing about.”

Cookies, on the other hand, Maggie was unmatched at, no matter the flavor. How she could be such a terrible cook, yet produce baked goods to die for, I would never understand. It was a great mystery of the universe.

She skipped out of the room, and I raised my hands, reciting the words to the spell I had permanently etched into the surrounding walls. A shield of silence fell around us, and Harry shimmered in and out of existence while his ghostly form struggled to maintain his presence. Give it a second… he sighed as the spell recognised him and everyone else here. Getting the wards to recognise a ghost wasn’t easy, but I had persevered, determined to make it work. He was representing his kind, after all.

Everyone ignored the dangerous snacks and got down to business.

“Any sightings of Eloise?” Lucifer asked.

“Other than her hovering around prominent politicians who are on the campaign trail, no,” Aunt Liz supplied.

“And she’s not been in touch with me either,” I added before anyone could ask. My blood still burned with betrayal at the horror she had subjected me to. I’m pretty sure she knew that and no longer feigned any kind of grandmotherly love to manipulate my affections.

“Any murmurings from up top?” Lucifer asked as he slid a look at Abaddon.

My father shook his head as he glanced in my direction. Oh no. “Not about Eloise.”

“Explain,” Hudson demanded.

“If this is some outdated elitist attitude about half angels, I don’t want to hear it,” I snapped. Angels were snooty, and my father was no exception, but ever since I was kidnapped and tortured, he’d softened a little.

“No, not that. No one would dare defy me, and you have a no touch order. It’s more the rumblings of interest from higher up.”

“Higher up?” Dave asked. “Who is higher than an archangel?”

Oh shit. Rebecca’s gaze caught mine. The unflappable English princess was dumbstruck.

“God?” Sebastian snorted. “Are you telling me God is sniffing around our little earthly problem when he sat back during countless wars, which cost millions of lives? That God is interested in Eloise Roberts orchestrating a supernatural war?”

Abaddon popped the top of his can and took a sip with a sigh. They don’t have soda in Heaven—I asked. “No, he is not interested in Eloise. He is, however, curious about Cora, because she straddles both worlds. It’s been a long, long time since there was a being that was born of Heaven but placed on Earth.”

No. Nope. Not happening. I was not a freaking savior. I fixed broken bones, turned down the beds of supernatural guests, and occasionally dabbled in supernatural mysteries.

Hudson’s hand squeezed my knee under the table. “Cora, breathe.”

I was breathing. I just wasn’t ready for a visit from God. I’d never thought of the family tree situation. Were archangels considered his children? Did that make God my grandfather? Did I need to add Him to the Christmas card list? Because I didn’t want to piss off the Almighty with a perceived slight at not being included in my well wishes. We had enough enemies.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Aunt Liz asked. “Is He going to help?”

Yes, was the Lord about to smite Eloise Roberts and solve all our problems? Abaddon shook his head. “He has a firm company policy about not interfering in what occurs on Earth. Some pain has to be experienced for evolution to occur. If he waved his hand to stop every trouble, then you would get lazy and not learn to deal with issues yourself. It’s akin to letting a child make mistakes in order for them to develop.”

“Pretty sure war doesn’t enable us to evolve,” Sebastian muttered.

“I disagree,” Dave said. “War, while terrible, forces us to face our mistakes and learn from them so we can avoid those situations.”

Was it too late to send a Christmas card for last year? What was the next religious holiday? Easter? Aunt Liz cooked a mean ham dinner for the occasion, and thoughts of war were the furthest things from our minds when we were in carb comas. Maybe a belated hand-knitted scarf from Aunt Sophia? Did it get cold in Heaven, or was it permanently sunny? We always got matching pjs at Christmas and onesies at Easter. We could definitely include Him and my father. Did God sleep? I knew He took a day off, but did He need eight solid hours to be at peak performance for miracles and prayer answering?

“What do you think, Cora?” Rebecca asked.

Harry floated back and forth a little too fast. His arm kept passing through Sebastian, making him shudder every so often. “He won’t force me into the light. He gifted us with free will, and I won’t have it stolen from me,” Harry grumbled. Umm, no, my resident ghost was not being dragged to Heaven. I would fight anyone who tried.

“About what?” I answered as everyone went silent and stared at me. Clearly, I had missed some vital part of the conversation while I was trying to figure out how to butter up God.

“Do you think Eloise is about to make her move?” Abaddon asked.

Oh wow, I had definitely missed something. “She’s in the same place she was when we met five days ago.”

“But the rumblings from Hell are that she’s trying to make contact with demons sympathetic to her cause,” Lucifer added.

“Are your sources reliable?” I wondered.

Abaddon laughed, making me blink. My father rarely laughed, and when he did, I always expected the heavens to rain down fire. “They are demons. They breathe deception. No, they cannot be trusted, daughter.”

“Unless they are speaking to the Devil,” Lucifer said with a smirk. “They literally cannot lie to me.”

That was handy to know. “Are these demons she’s contacting speaking to you directly? Or is it being leaked?” I asked.

“Both.”

I hummed. “Then I would guess she’s done licking her wounds and is gathering power to force us into a war.”

“It’s inevitable at some point,” Rebecca added. “With the way technology is advancing, more and more unexplained events are being documented. Someday soon, even without Eloise’s encouragement, the human world will need to face the fact they aren’t alone and never have been.”

“Agreed,” Hudson said. “But Eloise is trying to ignite a war, to light a flame under the humans to come for us, so that the only way to survive it is to band together.”

“And now we are back full circle,” I uttered.

Abaddon leaned forward. “Cora, contact your grandmother and offer her an olive branch. We need to get closer to learn what she is planning, and she’s conceited enough to see you as a sympathizer to her plan, even though you bear the marks of her betrayal on your skin.”

Indigo, my sleeping alter ego, raised her head and stared at Daddy Dearest through my eyes. Oh boy. “We will not bow down to a weak elemental with slipping control on her own faction. We will not placate her, even with lies, to uncover her treachery. Eloise Roberts will die for her crimes. I will tear her heart from her chest and force it to keep beating as I suck her soul out until she is a shriveled husk of flesh, before spitting it out to wander Purgatory for eternity. Her blood will decorate the earth she is determined to rule. It will seep into the ground and with it, her memories will fade from human consciousness. I will grind her bones to dust before reforming them into a pretty crystal to hang around my neck as a reminder to our enemies of the consequences of harming Cora.”

“What she said,” Hudson added with a feral grin. Indigo retreated, having said her piece.

Abaddon sighed and leaned back in his chair, entwining his hands behind his head. “Then I guess we go with Plan B.”

Umm, there were options?

“I vetoed that,” Aunt Liz snapped. The White Furry Menace, AKA Bella, launched herself onto Abaddon’s lap, kneaded his jean-covered thighs, and settled herself into an excellent impression of a loaf of bread.

“You have terrible taste in men,” I told her. She winked at me.

Damn cat.

“You can’t veto all my ideas, Elizabeth,” Abaddon replied as his hand glided over Bella’s fur. “Unless you have your own to replace it.”

“Anything that doesn’t involve sacrificing my niece.”

Lucifer got that look in his eye that made me narrow my gaze. “Perhaps it’s time for the Devil to answer her call.”

Nothing good could come out of that. “She will have warded against you specifically,” I warned him. “And likely set a trap.”

“Silly niece, you think any ward or spell could hold me? I am Lucifer fucking Morningstar. The once favorite?—”

“An untrue rumor perpetrated by yourself,” Abaddon interjected.

“—of God, and now ruler of the worst of humanity. Don’t forget, it’s my power and my rule that keeps the demons from your door. What do you do, brother? Sniff around half-angel daughters because you got bored doing the grocery shopping?”

Where do angels shop? Walmart?

“I have lesser ranks that do that.”

“Admit it,” Lucifer said with a chuckle as our eyes ping-ponged between the two archangels. “This is the most fun you’ve had in centuries.”

My gaze landed on the Disney T-shirts they wore, and it dawned on me. This was the most fun my father had had in centuries. Isn’t there some rule against angels on opposite sides of the earthly divide becoming besties? It feels more apocalyptic than my grandmother trying to spawn the end of humanity’s reign. Lucifer caught my gaze and winked at me. Save me now.