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Authors: Larissa Ione

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“So I’m guessing the fathers don’t have anything to do with the children.”

“Most of us never meet the male that sired us. All we know is the family that raised us,

though we can sense our brothers.”

“So you never knew your father?” She shifted to get more comfortable, wincing at the

dull ache in her ankle.

“All I knew of him were secondhand stories.”

“Do all sexual demons reproduce like that?”

“Nope. Most incubi and succubi use humans for reproduction, but Sems can’t.

Impregnating humans results in cambions.”

“Cambions?”

“Sterile half-breeds.” The way he said it, with a slight sneer, told her what he thought of

breeding with humans.

Apparently, screwing them was just fine, however. She tried to keep the bitterness out of

her voice as she asked, “So your mother’s an Umber, right?”

Shade nodded. Runa didn’t know much about the cave-dwelling species, had only

skimmed the information she’d found while researching demons to identify Shade’s breed.

Apparently, they were gray-skinned and humanoid, though they avoided contact with humans.

They were extremely social in their family orders, but were isolated within the demon

world—probably because they were the natural prey of some of the more vicious species of

demons.

“What about your brothers?” She leaned forward, intensely curious. She’d had a rude

introduction into the demon world, but once she got over the shock, she’d dedicated every spare

minute to learning as much as she could. “What species are their mothers?”

“My older brother, Eidolon, was born to a Justice demon, and Wraith’s mother was a

vampire.”

She blinked. “I didn’t think vampires could breed.”

“They can’t. Wraith’s an anomaly.”

Somewhere in the dungeon, something screamed, and Runa shivered.

“What about your parents?” she asked quickly, and a little shakily. “Was what you told

me when we were dating true? Your mother lives in South America and your dad is dead?”

A long, awkward silence filled the cell. Finally, just as Runa was about to give up on

getting an answer, Shade said, “My mother was killed a couple of months ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Did you kill her?”

Her voice cracked with astonishment. “No.”

“Then don’t be sorry.”

“Am I annoying you with my questions?” she snapped.

“Yep.” He shrugged. “But it’s not like we have a lot else to do.”

As if on cue, footsteps pounded outside. Runa crouched, ready to attack, but Shade

remained where he was, looking for all the world as if he was lounging on a couch with a beer. If

the fact that he was nude bothered him, it didn’t show.

The door swung open. The Nightlash who had dragged Shade out of the cell earlier

entered and dropped a gym bag on the floor. A robed figure slid inside behind the other demon,

its face hidden inside a deep hood, though she thought she caught a glimpse of some sort of

mask. Only the creature’s hands were visible—clawlike, skeletal things wrapped in leathery skin.

Some of its fingers were missing, but that didn’t stop him from holding a wicked-looking spiked

club.

It turned to Shade. “I see you’ve recovered from your ordeal.”

“That’s what happens when you hire second-rate whores like Solice. You should have

instructed her in the proper art of blowjobs.”

The thing hissed. “I’m going to make you suffer.”

“Promises, promises,” Shade drawled, turning away to study his fingernails.

Runa could practically feel the rage billowing like steam from the robed creature. “I will

make what I did to your sister look like fun.”

Very slowly, Shade lifted his head, his dark eyes narrowed and gleaming with hatred.

“Where is she? What did you do to her?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Shade leaped to his feet. “Tell me!”

The creature nodded to the Nightlash, who opened the bag on the floor and pulled out

what looked like a leather blanket.

Oh, God.
Runa’s stomach lurched. She felt the blood drain from her face as the robed one

cackled.

“Umber skins are worth a fortune on the underworld market. She’s going to make

someone a fine cloak.”

A blast of darkness hit Runa a second before the icy wind, and then Shade let loose an

agonized wail that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

Kynan Morgan was probably the biggest pain in the ass on staff at UGH. Scratch that.

Not probably. He was, and he knew it.

He also didn’t give a shit. He didn’t give a shit about much anymore. His give-a-shit

meter had broken nearly a year ago when his wife betrayed him and then died at the hands of her

lover. One of her lovers, anyway. The human one.

Then there was Gem, with her black and blue hair, Goth clothing, piercings, and tats.

He’d forgiven Tayla for being a demon. Mainly, because she hadn’t known the truth of her

paternity until Eidolon figured it out. But Tayla’s sister, Gem … not so much. He’d met her a

few years ago at the New York City hospital where she’d worked, pretending to be human. She’d

talked to him, laughed with him, seen him nearly naked during exams.

Truthfully, it wasn’t a betrayal; she’d owed him nothing. But he’d liked her, trusted her,

and all along she’d been the enemy.

But even that wasn’t entirely true. Since the violent night nearly a year ago, he’d come to

the disturbing realization that not all demons were evil, that some strove to be good. The

knowledge, on top of his wife’s betrayal, had shaken his moral, spiritual, and emotional

foundations. He’d pulled away from The Aegis, from one of the two things he was good at:

killing.

Which had left him with only one skill remaining, something he hadn’t even been sure he

had the stomach for anymore.

Healing.

At that point, Eidolon had stepped in and offered him a job at UGH, as one of the

half-dozen humans already on staff. The irony was flat-out, fucking funny. He’d spent years

killing demons, and now they wanted him to heal them.

He’d accepted, but on the condition that he chose who he helped. He would not be

responsible for putting evil back on the streets. Eidolon had understood, and he’d even made

Kynan a doctor, since the hospital was short on physicians with degrees, and Kynan had a

shitload of medical experience thanks to his Army medic training and years of patching up

Guardians after battles with demons.

Still, this was a temporary gig. Hanging out with demons was a perfect mirror for where

he was mentally, but he had to believe it would come to an end, that he could find himself again.

He wasn’t sure he could go back to being the Regent of the New York Aegis cell—hell, he didn’t

think they’d even want him. If the Sigil—the twelve supreme leaders of The Aegis—knew he’d

been working with the enemy … well, he’d
become
the enemy. They could never know what he

was doing at the hospital. And if they knew that the New York City cell’s temporary Regent,

Tayla, was half demon and mated to a demon, he and Tay would both end up with death warrants

hanging over their heads.

Apparently, the Sigil didn’t yet know about Tayla’s new approach to

demon-slaying—she’d educated the Guardians in her cell to recognize the difference between

evil demons and harmless ones, a move that had rewarded them with a handful of demon

informants. She’d also instituted a capture-instead-of-kill policy when it came to were-beasts.

Another good move—some weres didn’t cause harm intentionally—they had escaped their

cages, or were new enough to not understand what had been happening to them three nights a

month. Only those with no regard for human life were put down.

Kynan had to admit that after a shaky start in The Aegis, Tay had turned out to be an

excellent Regent.

“Hey, grunt.”

Kynan ground his molars at the sound of Wraith’s voice as he snipped the thread of the

last stitch he’d put into his patient. The Neethul had been remarkably quiet during the procedure,

even though her species’ standard mode of operation seemed to be stuck on snarl. Neethulum

weren’t his favorite species of demon to patch up, but they focused their cruelty on other

demons, not humans, so he had no problem sending the Neethul back into the general demon

population.

Besides, this one had been injured when she was attacked and raped by a post
s’genesis

Seminus demon, and he wanted her to find the bastard and rip him apart. She was probably

pregnant, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Kynan looked over at Wraith, who was looming in the cubicle doorway, his cocky grin

begging to be knocked right off his face. “What do you want?”

“Mainly? To irritate you.”

“I swear to God—”

“Uh-uh.” Wraith waggled a finger at him. “You can’t do that in a demon hospital.”

Ky breathed deeply and counted to five, something Eidolon said helped him deal with

Wraith. It might help E, but then, Wraith hadn’t slept with
his
wife. Sure, Wraith denied

screwing Lori, but Wraith wasn’t exactly Mr. Straight and Narrow. And if he was this bad now,

before
s’genesis
hit him, he was going to be seriously off the rails afterward.

“If it weren’t for the Haven spell, I’d kick your ass,” Ky snapped.

Wraith laughed, because it was an idle threat. Kynan was a trained fighter, both for The

Aegis and before that, the Army, but the Seminus demon was not only a master of every fighting

method known to man and demon, but, at ninety-nine years old, he had about seventy years of

experience on Kynan. Wraith could wipe the floor with him without breaking a sweat.

“You crack me up, human. I’ll let you keep breathing,” Wraith said, as he said every day,

in that deceptively easygoing way of his. “Has anyone heard from Shade?”

“No.” And that couldn’t be good. Last night, Eidolon had sent a team to find Shade and

Skulk when they hadn’t returned from an ambulance run and hadn’t answered their radio or cell

phones. The team had arrived at Shade’s last known location, but hadn’t found a trace of the

paramedics. “Can’t you sense him?”

“If I try hard enough. But unless he’s trying at the same time or in severe enough pain—”

Wraith broke off on a gasp. Dropping to his knees, he clutched at his gut, doubling over. His

blond hair concealed his face, but his misery was obvious in the way his voice cracked. “Fuck,”

he moaned. “Oh,
holy fuck.

Kynan spun, hit the intercom button. “Eidolon! ER two, STAT!” He kneeled next to

Wraith. “Hey, man, what’s wrong? Tell me what hurts.”

“Shade.” Wraith lifted his head, his blue eyes, so different from his brothers’ dark ones,

watering. “Shade hurts.”

“You bastards!” Shade lunged at the robed sonofabitch, the chains jerking him up hard.

Raw, grinding grief flayed him open like a slayer with a
stang.
It had been eighty years since he’d felt this, since his actions had cost the lives of all but one of his Umber sisters. Now that one survivor, the sister he’d sworn to protect, was dead.

“Who are you? Show yourself, you coward.”

“Who am I?” The robed thing moved forward. “Do you really want to know?”

Again, snarling, Shade leaped against his chains. “No. I asked to hear myself talk, you

fuck.”

“So dramatic.” Robe Man reached up and removed his mask, a nasty thing made of hide

and hair, but his face was still concealed by the cowl.


Who are you?

Slowly, the figure pushed down his hood. “I’m your brother.”

Heart pounding wildly, Shade looked into Wraith’s face. His blue eyes. His sun-streaked

blond hair. His cocky grin that exposed vampire fangs. But the vibe was wrong. As before, when

Robe Man was torturing Shade, the vibe was muted. “You aren’t Wraith.”

“I never said I was.” He flicked his tongue over one fang in a move that was pure Wraith.

“But if it’s any consolation, it was Wraith I was after. Not Skulk. Why was she on duty instead

of him?”

A chill crawled up Shade’s spine. Wraith rode the ambulance only one day a month. How

had this bastard known that yesterday was Wraith’s day? Had Wraith shown up as scheduled,

Skulk wouldn’t have been called in and Wraith would have been taken by the Ghouls along with

Shade. So how had Robe Man known, unless … of course. Solice. How long had that vampire

bitch been spying on him and his brothers?

“I’m not telling you shit.” Shade spoke slowly, deliberately, making sure every word

dripped with the hatred he felt.

The Nightlash stuffed his gruesome trophy back into the bag, and Shade nearly collapsed

with grief.

“She screamed your name, you know,” the fake-Wraith said. “Cursed it, really.” Smiling,

he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as though taking in the sound of her screams, the smell

of her agony.

This was a creature who fed off misery, and Shade didn’t play that game. He’d had a lot

of experience with demons like him, and as much as Shade wanted to tear the bastard apart, he

knew he had to play smart right now.

And after he got what he wanted, he would make sure that this sonofabitch paid a million

times over for what he’d done to Skulk.

Runa felt the icy-burn of hatred seeping from Shade’s pores as he held himself

motionless, his weight balanced on his injured foot as though her bite amounted to nothing more

than a scratch.

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