“Reaper is . . . Epic. Thrilling. Amazing. No one can suck me into a story like Larissa Ione.” — Donna Grant, New York Times bestselling author”
For love, he’ll watch the world burn.
For revenge, he’ll light the match.
New York Times bestselling author Larissa Ione returns to her fan-favourite Demonica Series with REAPER, available now!
THE DEMONICA SERIES RETURNS…
He is the Keeper of Souls. Judge, jury, and executioner. He is death personified.
He is the Grim Reaper.
A fallen angel who commands the respect of both Heaven and Hell, Azagoth has presided over his own underworld realm for thousands of years. As the overlord of evil souls, he maintains balance crucial to the existence of life on Earth and beyond. But as all the realms gear up for the prophesied End of Days, the ties that bind him to Sheoul-gra have begun to chafe.
Now, with his beloved mate and unborn child the target of an ancient enemy, Azagoth will stop at nothing to save them, even if it means breaking blood oaths and shattering age-old alliances.
Even if it means destroying himself and setting the world on fire…
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“I have no doubt Azagoth will stop at nothing to save Lilliana,” Reaver admitted. “But he knows that if he releases Satan, Satan will kill Lilliana. He can’t risk it.”
“What do you suggest we do then?”
“I can talk to him,” Reaver said. “Hawkyn requested information about a fallen angel named Flail. I’ll use that as an excuse to get to Azagoth.”
A flock of gulls squawked as the birds circled the palace, looking for handouts from Caila’s guests, and Metatron had to raise his voice to be heard. “You said he sealed off Sheoul-gra.”
“Hawkyn will open it to me if I can convince him that I’m not there to destroy his father.”
It shouldn’t be a problem; Hawkyn wouldn’t have contacted Reaver at all if he weren’t sure Reaver could handle the situation without killing anyone.
“And if Azagoth is out of control?” Metatron asked. “Will you destroy him?”
“Isn’t it a little early to be discussing that?”
Metatron rolled his shoulders, probably not even aware he’d done it, but Reaver knew he was testing his wings and his powers, feeling them out at the thought that shit might get really fucking biblical real soon.
“He can’t be allowed to release Satan,” he said, fire in his tone. “And he can’t be allowed to escape Sheoul-gra.”
“Would escaping be such a bad thing?”
Reaver wasn’t Azagoth’s biggest fan, but the guy had been trapped for thousands of years. He’d proven that he was capable of wrangling souls and navigating the politics of both Sheoul and Heaven. He’d chilled out a lot since getting mated, too. Seemed like it wouldn’t be a big deal if he lived where he wanted and commuted to work.
Metatron appeared troubled that Reaver would even ask such an apparently insane question. “Yes, it could be bad.”
“Why?” Reaver asked. “I mean, I get that he’s an asshole, but a lot bigger assholes are running around loose.”
Like the fallen angels who had killed Wraith. He clenched his fists, wishing he was out hunting them right now.
“Azagoth signed contracts,” Metatron said. “Contracts sealed with the powers of Heaven and Sheoul. We don’t know what kind of damage we’d take if he made that big of a breach.”
Sounded kind of minor to Reaver, but he knew well how seriously Heaven took broken rules and breaches of contract. They also weren’t fond of Heaven being damaged, which was why Revenant, while technically welcome here, wasn’t…welcome. His presence destroyed everything around him.
“Okay,” Reaver said. “Let me grab the info on Flail and give Hawkyn a call. I’ll let you know what happens. And, Uncle?”
Metatron inclined his head.
“I want this to stay between us for now.”
Silence stretched. Not even the gulls called out, and Reaver started to sweat. Metatron had always been fair and by-the-book, which was probably part of why Reaver had been such a rule breaker as a youth. And beyond. Hell, he still was, he just wasn’t as reckless about it now.
Responsibility was a bitch.
About Larissa Ione
Air Force veteran Larissa Ione traded in a career in meteorology to pursue her passion of writing. She has since published dozens of books, hit several bestseller lists, including the New York Times and USA Today, and has been nominated for a RITA award. She now spends her days in pyjamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her retired U.S. Coast Guard husband, her son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhounds, a King Shepherd named Hexe and a Belgian Malinois named Duvel.
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