Page 100 of Hell’s Weapon

“No. From what Hades has gleaned from his head, the connection isn’t constant. But we don’t know when the last communication was.”

“What do the Angels want with Hell?” Wyatt asks.

“We’re not entirely sure,” I tell him. “We’ve never exactly been friendly but in general we leave each other alone. They have their soul cycle system and we have ours. There’s some balance between both realms. But ten years ago, they fucked up these recruitment games. Everybody died.”

Wyatt’s eyes narrow and the skin on his forehead creases as he takes in that information and thinks. He eats a few more fries before answering. “Did they send Cameron in here this time to do the same?”

“We presume so, Hades can’t get that part of the plan out of him. He may not know.” Garrick responds this time.

“Can’t you kill him? It doesn’t matter what his plan is, he won’t be able to feed any more information back and the Angels will lose their connection.” Wyatt puffs his chest a little, believing his simple answer will solve our problems.

“Technically, he is already dead.” Wyatt deflates as Garrick explains. “Hades is reanimating his corpse after Tacita killed him in the woods. And you’re in Hell now. His soul won’t be dying for a very, very long time.”

“Tartarus?”

“Exactly.” And the gleam in Garrick’s eye shows how much he is going to enjoy punishing Cameron once Hades is done with him. I might have to ask to watch some of the torture he’s planning.

There’s a shifting of bed covers, cutting off our conversation. Milo stirs, his legs stretching first before his fingers twitch, feeling the cotton under his touch.

We all move as his eyelids flutter, those gorgeous lashes of his batting against his pale cheeks before they open to reveal his piercing malachite eyes.

“Welcome back, Sweetheart.” Wyatt’s smooth Irish lilt breaks the silence.

Milo looks between us before his gaze lingers on me. He scans me carefully, like he’s trying to look beyond what he can currently see.

“Do you remember what happened?” I ask him gently.

His eyes glaze over for a minute like he’s sifting through fog, which he probably is with the sedatives and painkillers still in his system. But then he stills, his eyes sharpening in an instant.

I feel a tug as he withdraws his hand from mine. Sharp coldness stabs through my gut until I see him do the same to Wyatt. He simply needed his hand to sign.

“You had wings.”

I go to answer but Wyatt beats me to it, he leans down to capture Milo’s attention, a rueful smile on his lips as he says, “Yes, our girl has been holding back one final secret.” His eyes flick to me as he straightens once more. “Show him.”

Stepping back, I strip off my top without speaking. Garrick leans back against the counter, shooting me a wink as I let my wings free.

For good measure, I allow my horns out too but when Milo’s eyes widen and stop blinking, I decide on keeping my tail back for now. His lungs are not strong right now and I don’t want to cause him any pain.

Wyatt moves to the head of Milo’s bed to stand and stare at me as well. No doubt remembering how he’d held onto the apex of each wing as he took me from behind, firing pleasure up my spine as he sent shivers down the membranes at the same time. Essentially turning me into a vibrating ball of need.

“It seems we’ve had our very own bodyguard from the start of these games, Milo,” Wyatt informs him. “Our very own demon to protect us.”

Garrick snorts and I have to huff to cover my own laughter.

“Maybe Milo did, but I remember how she beat you down when I first turned her loose on you all,” Garrick taunts Wyatt.

“Merely foreplay, right Mo Stór?”

“I’ll let you have the delusion Wyatt, if you’ll admit to me being the better assassin.” I move towards Milo again, pulling my wings tight to my back so they don’t catch on the footboard of the bed.

“We shall have to recheck the facts on that one. With your age and everything we need to convert to percentages, kills per day etc. or it’s simply unfair.”

I’d told Wyatt more of my truth as we laid in bed this afternoon, about how I am pushing five centuries, and how that isn’t old for our realm.

Milo takes in our verbal sparring and relaxes back into the sheets. His heart rate returns to normal, that is until Garrick comes closer, joining me at the bedside, but with some reassurance he calms once more.

We talk, all of us, filling Milo in on what he missed while he was unconscious. I tell him everything and answer his questions. Garrick opens up too, although in his own prickly manner. Wyatt never breaks contact with Milo, one or both of his hands touching him at all times. The way he looks down at him, his eyes shining with happiness, short circuits my thoughts a time or two.