Lore, Eidolon’s half-breed brother, was sterile, but he’d desperately wanted children with his mate, Idess. So Eidolon and his other two brothers, Wraith and Shade, had donated sperm, and Eidolon had implanted it deep inside Idess’s womb. They’d all agreed that no matter who the biological father was, the child would be raised by Idess and Lore.
Reaver cocked a blond brow. “I know a Seminus demon can’t orgasm without being, ah, inside his female, so how…”
Eidolon laughed at the angel’s discomfort. “Our mates had to help. There are work-arounds.” The memory of Tay’s hot mouth working him made his loins stir, and dammit, now he hoped she’d get home a lot sooner than a couple of hours.
“You know,” Reaver said, “ten years ago I would never have predicted that your lives would turn out the way they have.”
“Trust me,” Eidolon muttered. “I’m as shocked as you are.”
Eidolon’s dog, Mange, trotted into the kitchen and nosed around the china cabinet for his friend. Sometimes, like now, he couldn’t believe he had a dog, a ferret, a son, and a mate, and he could only thank the Powers That Be that he’d been fortunate enough to have been given such a gift.
Reaver’s smile faded, and he braced his forearms on the countertop. “So why did you ask me here?”
Eidolon sighed. Time to get back to the real world. “What do you know about vyrm?”
Reaver blinked. “Do you have a vyrm patient?”
“No.” Eidolon left it at that. He trusted Reaver with his life, but he wasn’t sure he trusted Reaver with the life of someone whose species was hunted ruthlessly. “But as you know, this is a sensitive subject.”
Reaver nodded. “Vrym have been known to look into the eyes of an angel or fallen angel, and a moment later, everyone in his family falls dead. You can see why they’re hunted.” He shifted, hooking one booted foot on a stool rung. “But I’ve never hunted one, let alone killed one. Vyrm are the product of both good and evil, which means they have a higher than average shot at not becoming evil scumbags. Because of that, they shouldn’t be killed because of abilities they might use.”
“Glad we agree on that.” Eidolon took a bracing breath and got down to it. “Can you tell me how they might disguise themselves? Without a sacrifice.”
“Without a sacrifice?” Reaver blew out a soft whistle. “They’d need a damned potent spell, and no matter what, they’d need blood or a body part from someone incredibly powerful. Someone with either angel or fallen angel in his or her genetic makeup. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you.” Eidolon felt Mickey’s tiny feet skitter over his shoes. “So… what’s going on with your brother?”
Reaver cursed softly. “Hell if I know. He’s hurt and bitter and frankly, I don’t know how much I can trust him.” His voice dropped low with anger. “I think he might hand over Gethel to me, but then… I don’t know. It shouldn’t be a question. He should just do it. After everything Satan did to him and our mother, why the fuck would he even entertain the idea of playing for Team Evil?”
“Maybe because Team Good isn’t always… good. I hate to say it, buddy, but at least you always know never to trust evil. But you know better than anyone that Heaven has an agenda, and if yours doesn’t match up with theirs, you’re fucked.”
Reaver slammed his fist on the counter, his eyes flashing with blue lightning. “It doesn’t matter. The archangels gave him a way out. Heaven has its problems, but it’s still infinitely better than Sheoul.”
Eidolon loved Reaver like a brother, but the angel sometimes got lost inside his own tunnel vision.
“You’re aware that Wraith grew up in a situation similar to Revenant’s, and for a long time after he escaped, he didn’t know his place in the world. The people who should have cared for him hurt him.” Eidolon chucked an empty box of toddler crackers into the trash. “For almost a hundred years, he kept everyone at a distance and always took the road of least resistance. It sounds like Revenant is doing the same, looking for the least painful path to survival.”
Reaver snorted. “Why are you defending him?”
“Because I wish someone had done that for Wraith.”
Cursing, Reaver rubbed the Underworld General caduceus tattoo he’d recently had inked onto his biceps to settle a lost bet with Eidolon. “How did you deal with Wraith for as long as you did?”
Mange nudged Eidolon’s hand, demanding a good scratch behind the ears. “Wraith… was a challenge.”
“I know. I was there. I still can’t believe he’s even alive, let alone settled down with a mate and a kid.”
“No one is more surprised about that than I am.” Eidolon snagged a bottle of his favorite Belgian ale from out of the fridge and tossed it to Reaver. “The key was finding something he cared enough about to change his life.”
“Serena.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Look, I don’t have a lot of advice when it comes to insane brothers. I didn’t do so well with either Wraith or Roag. At least Wraith is still alive. But I can say that Revenant’s anger is probably coming from a place of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of being hurt, fear of the unknown. If you can identify the fear, you can get past it.”
“Abandonment.”