[No data]

  DEMONICA OVERKILL

  PART II

  Larissa Ione

  SHADE & RUNA

  ***Note: this scene (and the Reaver scene that follows) takes place between Rogue Rider and REAVER in the Demonica/LOD world***

  Oh, Christmas Hells, Oh Christmas Hells…

  “Shade!” Runa strode into the master bedroom of the cave Shade had lived in before they were mated. Now it was their romantic jungle getaway. Usually. “Your children are impossible.”

  Shade shrugged into a sweater — forest green, which was as Christmas-y as he got. Even then, it was under protest. But damn, the green played up his tan skin and black hair, and if the boys weren’t wound up in anticipation of the Underworld General Christmas party, Runa would have Shade up against the wall in a heartbeat.

  “They take after you,” Shade said, his voice gruff, but the twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes gave him away. He loved being a father, even when things got hairy.

  He brushed past, slowing to kiss her on the cheek. Heat flushed her face, and her knees actually went a little wobbly. They’d been mated for four years, and still his touch made her skin tingle and her heart beat faster. Every. Single. Time.

  Oh, yes, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. Here in the cave or in a supply closet at UG, it didn’t matter. As a Seminus demon, he needed frequent sex to survive, but things had changed in the last three years. When a Sem mated and had children, his needs, both sexual and reproductive, adjusted to what his mate could handle.

  Fortunately for Shade, Runa could handle a lot.

  She kept her gaze firmly on his jeans-clad butt as she followed him into the living room, where the triplets were fighting over a Spiderman action figure. Rade, who, with his black hair and dark brown eyes was the spitting image of his father, held Spiderman over his head and shoved at his brothers as they tried to grab for the toy.

  “Hey!” Shade’s booming voice froze the three boys instantly. “Knock it off.”

  “But Daddy…” Tears filled Stryke’s champagne eyes. He’d gotten Shade’s hair but Runa’s eyes, and he was the best at using them to manipulate his father.

  “Don’t even start,” Shade said in his best stern dad tone. Then, just as the other two boys started getting teary, he grinned. “But what do you say we wrestle?”

  He dove onto the carpet, and a moment later, he was covered in giggling kids.

  Runa sighed. So much for discipline. But she couldn’t be angry, not on Christmas Eve, and not when she was trying to get Shade to enjoy the uniquely human holiday. Heck, she’d be happy if he only pretended to like it for the kids’ sake.

  A flash of light signaled a heavenly arrival, and Reaver materialized, decked out in black slacks and a sapphire button-down that was only a little less blue than his eyes. Blade, usually the quietest of the triplets, squealed as he threw himself into the angel’s arms. Stryke and Rade joined their brother, turning poor Reaver into a jungle gym.

  “Thanks for doing this,” Runa said. “We didn’t want to haul them through the jungle to the Harrowgate.” And she wanted to have a little chat with Shade.

  “No problem.” Reaver popped Stryke onto his shoulders. “I was thinking of starting an angelic taxi service.”

  “Well, we appreciate it.” She caught Rade as he dashed toward the couch, and tucked him into one of Reaver’s arms. “Are you flashing to the parking lot?”

  “Yep.” Reaver hauled Blade against his chest so he had all three kids together. “Jillian and Idess will be waiting to help corral them to the party.”

  “Are all of the Horsemen going?” Shade shoved to his feet, kicking aside a minefield of toys. “Because Ares owes me a drink.”

  Rade grabbed a fistful of Reaver’s blond hair, but he didn’t so much as blink. “There’ll be too many humans at the party, and they react badly to him. We’ll all be together for Christmas, though.”

  A smile played at the corners of Reaver’s lips, but it never went further than that. She knew he was happier than he’d ever been now that he had children and grandchildren in his life, but still, there was a lingering sadness about him. It wasn’t always there, but she caught glimpses now and then, as if he sometimes realized that there was something missing in his life.

  She’d have to ask Shade if he knew any females who might like an angel with a mysterious past and four children who were Biblical legends. Then again, those might not be selling points.

  “We’ll see you in a little while.” She blew kisses at the boys, who waved as Reaver flashed them out of there.

  “It’s pretty cool having an angel as a babysitter.” Shade slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her close. “No one is going to fuck with him. Plus, he kind of fits in with all this Christmas crap.”

  Damn, him. He wasn’t even trying. “Shade. What did you say to the kids? Knock it off? Well, take your own advice and knock it off.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. This isn’t a demon holiday. It’s a human one.”

  “And I used to be human, remember? We agreed to raise them to understand both our worlds.”

  His teasing grin said he wasn’t taking this seriously. “Then I can take them to a traditional Seminus orgy on Samhain?”

  With a huff, she stepped back, hating the cold space that bloomed between them. “Seriously? You’re going to compare a demon orgy to a holiday where kids sing songs and get presents and candy?”

  “You can get presents and candy at an orgy.”

  She glared. “Why are you being so stubborn? It’s not like you haven’t lived among humans for decades. And Wraith made you guys exchange gifts. On our first Christmas, it was you who decorated the tree.”

  “So?”

  “So what’s wrong with you? Ever since the boys were born, you’ve been all Grinchy. Why?” When he said nothing, she pressed harder. “Shade, you need to talk to me. Something’s going on. What is it?”

  Silence stretched. Shade turned away, and just as she thought he was going to walk out, he spun back around and blurted, “It’s the lie.”

  Baffled, she searched her brain for any hint as to what he was talking about, but nope, still baffled. “What lie?”

  “The one about Santa,” he growled. “I don’t want to lie to my sons.”

  She blinked. “That’s what this has been about? For three years, you’ve been afraid to pretend there’s a Santa?”

  He patted his chest and his jeans in what she knew was a search for gum. A futile one, at that. “My parents told us they’d keep us safe, and they didn’t. It was the first and last lie they ever told. I don’t want our sons to one day realize that the first thing they truly believed in was a lie we told them.”

  Runa’s heart melted right into her feet. “Oh, Shade,” she whispered. “If it means that much to you, we can be honest with them about Santa. But first, just listen to me, okay?” He nodded, and she took a deep, bracing breath. “I had a crappy childhood. You know that. Almost all of my memories are horrible. But the good ones? They’re all about Christmas.”

  She thought back to the bottles of alcohol that were strewn around the house, and how sometimes her brother, Arik, would stuff Christmas lights inside them to decorate the house. Their mother always made sure there was at least one present for each of them under the crooked plastic tree on Christmas morning, and twice she even took them caroling.

  “The thing I remember most was when my mom took us to see Santa. We always did it without our dad, and we’d spend the whole day out. She’d buy us ice cream, and then she’d get us hot cocoa to warm up. When we finished we’d go see Santa, and for a full year after that, when all the bad shit happened, I’d remember that Christmas was coming. It was the one day when my parents got along, and the one day nothing bad ever happened.”

/>   Shade moved to her, all grace and rolling shoulders, and hugged her to him. “All our days are like that, Runa,” he said into her hair. “Our boys don’t need a special day set aside to feel safe and loved.”

  “No, they don’t. But maybe we do.” Pulling back just a little, she palmed his chest, right over his heart. “Someday the boys are going to grow up and leave, and you know how dangerous it is out there, and how strong the crazy Seminus instincts are. Christmas needs to be an anchor, the one time of year that we can count on everyone being together. A little white lie about a jolly man in a red suit is going to be the least of their worries someday.” Beneath her hand, Shade’s pulse pounded, and the mate-mark on her arm began to throb in time with his heart. “Give them that. Give us that.”

  “You’re right,” he rasped. “I’m sorry, Runa.”

  “No,” she said softly. “You don’t need to be. We come from different worlds, and we’re going to clash. It’s why we have to talk. Instead of, you know, being grumpy for three years on Christmas.” She playfully pinched his biceps to punctuate that last part.

  “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” His hand dropped to her butt, and he hauled her even harder against him. She growled in approval and nipped the skin over his collarbone. His hiss — and the insta-erection behind his fly — told her he’d liked it. “What do you say we go grab the boys and take them to see Santa?”

  She grinned. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Now?”

  A naughty smile spread across his face as his fingers delved between her thighs. “What do you think?”

  “I think I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you too, baby,” Shade whispered back. “Merry Christmas.”

  REAVER

  ***Note: this scene takes place between Rogue Rider and REAVER in the Demonica/LOD world***

  O Come, All Ye Horsemen (and Angels)

  Reaver had watched every modern holiday evolve from their very beginnings in primitive times to their current traditions and peculiarities, but he’d never celebrated the one known as Christmas.

  Oh, he’d been to holiday parties and he’d been invited to gatherings held by his friends, but he’d always felt like an intruder. Even last year, after learning that the legendary beings known as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were his offspring, he’d avoided spending much time with them at Christmas. He didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to act. What he was supposed to do.

  How he could make up for five thousand years of being absent on every birthday, every holiday, every freaking important event in their lives?

  But this year something inside him craved closeness. And forgiveness.

  Because what if he never had the chance to celebrate with his children — and grandchildren — again?

  He strode through the fourth insanely chaotic shopping mall of the day, his head spinning at the noise, the lights, the crowds of people who wouldn’t get out of his way. It was as if they were intentionally running into him and blocking his path.

  This was just stupid. He had no idea what to buy people who had everything — or, at least, access to everything. Ares, Limos, Thanatos, and Reseph were all wealthy beyond wealthy, so what could Reaver possibly buy them that they didn’t already have?

  Shit.

  He entered a clothing store, ducked behind a rack of coats, and flashed to Eidolon’s apartment. Which was almost as bad as the malls.

  Holiday music played from inside the living room, and the scent of pine trees and gingerbread wafted through the air. Stockings, garland, and various cheery decor took up nearly every inch of wall and floor space.

  Reaver figured that if Santa Clause exploded, the result would look like…this.

  Not that Reaver could blame Tayla for her enthusiastic decorating style; she’d grown up in foster homes and had never truly had a Christmas until she mated Eidolon. Now she made sure their son would never have anything but a happy, fun-filled holiday.

  The Seminus demon was in the kitchen, his hands encased by medical gloves as he carefully put together a ham and cheese sandwich with surgical precision. The doctor performed every task as if it were a vital operation.

  “You going to cut that with a scalpel?” Reaver asked.

  Startled, Eidolon fumbled the mayonnaise lid. “Damn you, Reaver,” he muttered. “Stop doing that. We have a door. With a knocker and everything.”

  “Angels don’t use doors.” Sure, he could have knocked, but…nah. “And why are you wearing gloves?”

  “Because I love horseradish, but it melts my fingernails.” He smashed a piece of wheat bread on top of his sandwich.

  Huh. He learned something new about Eidolon’s species every day. “Where’s Tayla?”

  “She took Sabre to do some last minute shopping. Apparently, toddlers need elf suits for pictures.”

  Reaver wished her luck with that. The malls were like corrals, the shoppers like stampeding bulls. “That’s sort of why I’m here. The shopping.”

  Eidolon plucked a beer from the fridge and offered one to Reaver, which he refused. “Let me guess. You’re clueless what to get people who have everything.”

  Reaver didn’t bother asking E how he’d known that. The doctor had always been freakishly astute. “Yep.”

  “Then give them something only you can give them.”

  Okay, he supposed he could bring them something from the Heavenly realm, but that seemed too easy. After five thousand years of being an absentee parent, his kids deserved something better. Something more meaningful.

  Something they could keep to remember him if someday he was no longer around. Not that he was planning to leave.

  But he had a grim feeling that soon, leaving might be out of his control. He had unfinished business, and her name was Harvester.

  The fact that Harvester was being held for eternity in Satan’s dungeons complicated that business and left Reaver unsure about his future.

  So for now, in the immediate present, he had to dedicate every moment to his family. A family he wished he could have gotten to know a long time ago.

  A long time ago…the answer to his gifting problem knocked him upside the head. Grinning, he thanked Eidolon, who just shrugged and bit into his sandwich as Reaver flashed to the one person who could help him.

  The next morning, he filled a duffel with wrapped presents — most of them for Thanatos’s son, Logan, and Cara and Ares’ adopted Ramreel son, Rath — and popped over to Thanatos’s Greenland castle. Like Eidolon’s apartment, the massive keep was a winter wonderland, complete with a twenty-foot tall blue spruce loaded with ornaments and lights.

  Limos, Cara, and Regan were on the floor with the kids, Jillian and Reseph were feeding a two-hundred-pound hellhound puppy a cookie, and Ares, Thanatos, and Arik were standing around a bowl of eggnog, their glasses overflowing.

  “Aw, Reavie-weavie brought presents!” Limos scrambled to her feet — as well as she could, considering she was pregnant — and threw her arms around him. He’d always loved when she called him that, even if he rolled his eyes and muttered obscenities.

  “Whatcha got in the bag?” Reseph asked.

  “You’ll see in a second.” Reaver waited until Limos detached herself from him, and then he dumped the contents of his bag into a pile on the floor near the tree. He gave Logan and Rath each a package, and then dug through the rest of the gifts until he found the four boxes he’d been looking for.

  While the two little ones ripped enthusiastically into the paper, Reaver passed out a present to each of the Horsemen.

  Just like the children, Limos, Ares, Reseph, and Thanatos tore into their packages. And then they looked as confused as hell.

  Limos looked down at her crudely-made gold pendant, while Ares stared, baffled, at the primitive copper-bladed dagger lying in the box he held. Thanatos ran a finger along the edge of his flintstone spearhead, and just as Reaver anticipated, it was Reseph who spoke first.

  “Cool. I got a cer
eal bowl made out of mud.” He glanced over at Reaver. “Ah…thank you?”

  Reaver inclined his head. “You’re welcome.”

  “This is—” Limos broke off with a strangled wheeze. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “These are ancient, but they’re not…old. They’re new.”

  Thanatos frowned. “Wait. What? They’re replicas?” He held his arrowhead up to the light. “This looks like something my clan would have used when I was a kid.”

  “It is,” Reaver said softly. “They’re not replicas.” Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto him, and he suddenly wondered if he’d screwed up. His gifts were lame, weren’t they? Shit. Feeling like a fool, he sighed. “I didn’t know what to get you, so I went to a friend named Lilliana. She’s one of only a handful of angels who can — and is allowed to — time travel. I asked her to get you the kinds of things I would have given you if I’d known you back when you were young.” Regret sat in his belly like a lump of fruitcake. “It was dumb, I know.”

  “No,” Limos whispered, her amethyst eyes glistening. “It’s amazing.”

  Ares whistled. “No shit. I haven’t seen one of these in, well, eons.”

  “Duuuuude.” Reseph looked down at his bowl with new appreciation, and Reaver swore he cradled it more carefully.

  A moment later, Thanatos, who rarely expressed affection, strode over and embraced Reaver hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. As he pulled away, he was replaced by Ares, and then Reseph, and finally, Limos.

  “Best present ever,” she murmured against his chest. “Thank you. I’m so glad it was you. Of everyone in the universe, we got you for a dad.”

  Reaver’s eyes burned and his throat clogged solid with emotion. So this…this was Christmas.

  He’d never celebrated before, but now he knew he didn’t want to miss another one.

  And if he could help it, he never would.

 

 

  Larissa Ione, [No data]

  Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net