Deadmen Walking (Deadman's Cross, #1)

She nodded eagerly.

“I should never have been conceived or born. And I begrudge all of you every single breath I’ve ever drawn. For that alone, it’s a daily struggle not to kill you.” He tightened his grip to let her know how serious he was. “You will find the Seraph they hold before he’s turned or I will spend the rest of eternity going to bed to the sounds of your screams for mercy. Do you understand that?”

“I understand, my lord.”

“Good. Now go!” He cast her away from him and watched as she scrambled from his study.

Fury pounded through his veins so vehemently that it caused his own wings to jut out. His skin turned the vibrant gold he resented even more. Ever since the day he’d learned who and what he really was.

How his mother had come to spawn him …

Damn them all to the fiery pits!

“Forneus?”

Great. That was just the maggot-licking bastard he needed to suffer in this mood. What? Were the gods really that bored?

Reining in his temper as best he could, he turned to find the last creature he wanted to face.

Second only to his father.

Folding his wings down, Thorn crossed his arms over his chest. “Michael … been a while.”

Seven feet in height, he was a massive bastard. Whereas most of the Seraphim were pretty enough to pass as women, Michael was ruggedly handsome. No one would ever mistake him for a Seraphia. And in his Seraph form, he was snow white—armor, weapons, every part of him.

Even his eyes were a stark silvery blue.

So it was always shocking to Thorn how dark the tool was whenever he donned a more human appearance. Dark hair, tanned skin. The only thing that remained the same were those celestial blue eyes that glittered like spiked icicles in front of a setting sun.

And they had the same effect today that they always did on him.

He wanted to punch the sanctimonious bastard in the face.

“What are you doing here, Mikey? Last I heard, none of you would sully yourself by crossing the boundary into this dimension.”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

“No. I have something that belongs to your bloodline and I promised her that I’d return it. So sod off.”

Michael let out a tired sigh. “You can’t help it, can you?”

“What?”

“Being a complete and utter asshole.”

Thorn smirked. “What can I say? I take after my father.”

“You know, throwing him in my face is a really bad idea. You weren’t there that day in battle. You’ve no idea what it feels like to have the person beside you—the one whose back you’ve protected for centuries—turn their sword on you. To look into the eyes of a friend and see an enemy. It’s a special level of hell I wouldn’t wish even on you. And when we look at you, we see your father and remember he was one of us once. Until he got crossed up with his own siblings.”

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, Thorn snorted at his tirade. “Should I get my violin out? I feel this little chat of yours needs an accompanying rhapsody.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “And that nasty attitude doesn’t help us get past our natural distaste for you. Any more than the fact that, at the end of the day, we all know you turned on your own men and brutally slaughtered them.”

Thorn arched a brow at that. “I didn’t turn on my men. I gave them a choice before I declared war.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

“No, arseling! Big. Futtocking. Difference. I turned on my father once I learned of his lies—same as all of you. There’s no difference whatsoever there. Then, I gave every sword under my command an opportunity to either fight with me for a new cause or to be on the receiving end of my skills. Those stupid enough to choose my father were given a head start before I went after them. I never put anyone down without allowing them their chance to change, which is more than any of you ever offered me.”

“What about your son?”

Thorn hissed as the demon inside him exploded and took over completely. For a moment, he almost went at Michael’s throat—which was probably what the bastard wanted.

But he roped the dragon down and forced it into submission. His breathing ragged, he glared at him. “Never speak of Cadegan again, or I will slit you from asshole to appetite.”

Michael held his hands up in surrender. “You’ve put together teams of demons. Released on parole in all corners of the world. Living side by side with unsuspecting humans. Do you really think we’re all right with what you’re doing?”

“I’m redeeming the damned. Giving them another chance to learn from their mistakes and make something of their lives and eternity. Is that not what we’re supposed to do? Is that not what all of you have preached since the beginning of time? To protect the innocent from those who prey upon them?”

Michael scoffed at him. “It’s the ones you’ve chosen as their guardians we take issue with. These aren’t the souls of those who were borderline damned. You’ve chosen some of the blackest souls ever spat out from the farting abyss of hell itself. Have you any idea what you’ve released back into the world? Especially with this latest batch of … What are they calling themselves? Deadmen?”

“Jackdaw flies with jackdaw.”

“More like the vultures circle together.”

“Whatever. The Cimmerian Magnus has a team to tempt saints to be sinners. I figure it’s only fair we have a team to tempt the sinners back to saints. Balance. If anyone in the universe should appreciate that … should be you, Mikey.”

Michael stepped back with a frown. “When you put it that way, what you’re doing almost makes sense.” Yet after a second, he shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re on the same side. How is this even possible?”

Thorn snorted. “Does this mean you’re going to help me now? Are we friends … lovers?”

“You’re such a sarcastic wanker.” He growled deep in his throat. “While I don’t trust you, I do commend you. And I hope you don’t live to regret what you’re doing.”

Thorn didn’t comment. The only things he’d ever regretted had to do with his son and the woman who’d birthed Cadegan. To this day, they were the only ones he’d ever loved.

The only ones who’d ever gutted him.

“Just so you know … the reason I came? Because of what’s happened with the Carian Gate and with your swift actions that helped hold back what’s been unleashed so far—”

“Excuse me? I believe the correct words you’re looking for are Thank you, Thorn, for saving our asses when we got caught with our britches down.”

Michael cleared his throat before he continued on without acknowledging Thorn’s interruption. “We decided to stop being so adversarial toward you and yours. From now on, whenever your Hellchasers need backup, they can call on our earthbound Necrodemians. Either they, or we, will answer your miscreants.”