Revenant had always thought that the Horsemen had been given some really cool gifts.
When the Horseman was fully outfitted, he opened a personal Harrowgate, and one by one, he, Reaver, and Revenant stepped through, coming out on the small island of Steara in Sheoul. The little piece of land was an oasis of greens, reds, and purples, a rare gem in the typical dark ugliness of hell.
Near the beach, in a protected alcove, was a small grave, its hand-carved marble headstone eclipsing the tiny mound that lay in its shadow.
“What’s this about, Uncle?” Reseph’s voice was rough, edged with more suspicion.
Rev stepped up next to his nephew. “Your baby sister was human. Her soul has been trapped here for thousands of years.”
“Thanks for the recap.”
Closing his eyes, Revenant opened his mind to his wishes, and a moment later, a blond child, her hair and eyes so similar to Reseph’s, was standing before her brother, as tangible as the headstone.
“Say good-bye, Reseph,” Revenant said softly. “I’ve released her soul from Sheoul. In a moment, she’ll be carried away to Heaven.”
The Horseman fell to his knees in front of her, and both Revenant and Reaver turned away.
“You surprise me, brother.” The emotional hitch in Reaver’s voice resonated deep inside Revenant. To care so much for someone else was a curse. And a gift.
“Surprised that I’m capable of being nice?”
“No.” Reaver’s blue eyes sparked. “Surprised that you’re aware of Reseph’s pain.”
“A few weeks ago, I’d have used his pain against him,” Rev admitted gruffly. “But since getting my memory back, I know how it feels to know a loved one is suffering.” He smirked. “Some people deserve all the suffering they get, and I’m happy to dish it out. But it seems that I’ve inherited some sort of protective gene from our parents, and I won’t let anyone in our family get hurt.” His smirk deepened. “Unless I’m the one doing it.”
Reaver snorted. “Asshole.”
Rev was about to throw down with some of the sibling rivalry they’d missed out on over the eons when Reseph approached, his eyes bloodshot, his expression shadowed with sorrow. And yet an aura of peace surrounded him, as if a shroud had lifted.
“How,” Reseph croaked. “How did you do that?”
Rev shrugged. “I’m King Shit down here now.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
The old Revenant would have demanded some sort of impossible payment. The new Rev… fuck it, he’d do the same thing. “You can, you know, not be a dick every time you see me.”
Reseph winced. “Don’t suppose you can come up with something else? I’m a dick to everyone.”
That was pretty much what Rev had expected the Horseman to say.
“Yes, you are.” He flashed them all to Reseph’s place, where all of the Horsemen, their families, and several Underworld General staff members had gathered for the barbecue Reseph had been avoiding. “Let’s just leave it at you owe me?”
“Cool.” Reseph clapped his hand on Revenant’s shoulder. “Thank you. I’m glad you aren’t a big tool anymore.” Grinning, Reseph headed for his mate, Jillian.
“Your son is a cocky son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Rev looked over at his brother, amazed that they were actually standing next to each other at a family gathering. And no blood had been shed.
Reaver barked out a laugh. “Which son?” His gaze lit on each of his offspring before taking in every person milling around the tables of food. “Think our parents would be proud?”
“I think they’d be passed out with relief that all the cards fell into place and that we actually fulfilled some crazy prophecies. The odds of that happening must be astronomically out of whack.”
“One in nine hundred trillion, according to Metatron.”
Revenant spotted Blaspheme fetching a couple of ice-cold beers from the cooler and offering one to Eidolon’s sister-in-law, Idess, but the female grinned broadly and refused, gesturing to her flat belly. Pregnant? Must be.
“Speaking of Metatron, how are things in Heaven?”
Reaver materialized himself a margarita, and one popped into Rev’s hand as well. How considerate. “Everyone’s still in shock that Raphael is gone, but funny, no one misses him.” He smiled as he took a drink. “And Harvester is back to normal. Getting rid of Gethel and Lucifer did the trick. How’s Sheoul treating you?”
“I’m King Shit, so, you know.” He shrugged. “There are a handful of jackasses trying to sabotage me, but for the most part, life hasn’t changed down there.” He took a drink of his margarita, dropping bits of salt all over his boots. Didn’t even bother him that his perfect brother hadn’t displaced a single grain from the rim of his glass. Personal growth was a cool thing. “But I have a thousand years to prepare for the Apocalypse. Lots of time to make sure that when Satan returns, a lot of demons will defect, and those who are left to fight for Team Evil will be unprepared and ineffective. And I’m authorizing Azagoth to reincarnate only neutral and nonevil demon souls.”
“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”
Revenant shrugged. “It’s a pretty good gig.”
For a moment, Reaver was silent, and then he turned to Revenant, his brows drawn in a serious line. “You know you’re welcome in Heaven. You and Blaspheme both. We can repair most of the damage you cause —”