Page 16 of Conquest (The Four Horsemen #1)

15

Conquest blinked into consciousness instantly, asleep one moment, awake the next. His eyes shot open, expecting to be blinded by lights. Instead he saw an off-white ceiling and a dull light coming from somewhere not in the room he was in.

A soft pressure against his stomach had him glancing down. He smiled as he stroked a hand over Raziel’s brown hair.

He froze. Raziel. Raziel was here, alive. He brushed the hair from Raziel’s cheek, his heart thumping wildly as he gazed upon his Angel’s beautiful face. Tension he hadn’t even realized he had been holding left his body. His fingers trailed down Raziel’s throat, the Angel’s pulse thrumming like a hummingbird beneath his fingertips, to where dried blood was caked across his skin. The blood may have been there, but the wound was gone, healed completely. Relief staggered him and it took him a moment for the light-headedness to ease. How? What had he missed?

His lips parted in wonder, and his breath caught in his throat. Wings? Raziel had wings. The most magnificent wings Conquest had ever seen. Pure midnight black, the tips fading to a deep green and… dripping? He touched the feathers closest to him. They were exquisite and impossibly soft. Beautiful, perfect.

Conquest couldn’t have held back the tears in his eyes if he’d tried. His heart felt as though it were soaring. His Angel was alive, and he had wings.

Closer inspection told him that Raziel had six wings, not two. No winged Immortal had ever had more than four. It was a sign of immense power, one that may even rival those of Diablo and God. Conquest’s baby Angel was growing up, and finding his own feet.

Raziel’s eyes fluttered open, revealing his brilliant bright blue eyes. They widened as he shot up into a sitting position. “Conquest?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with wonder.

Conquest touched his cheek. “I see you’ve grown wings. How long have I been sleeping?”

“Sleeping? I thought you were dead!” A sob broke from Raziel and he surged upwards, wrapping his arms around Conquest’s head, cradling him. His wings pushed their way underneath his body, embracing them both completely. Conquest felt shielded from the world, consumed by his Angel, just the two of them alone in a sea of shining black. He was calm, at peace, for the first time he could ever remember.

“Not dead,” Conquest said. “Healing.”

“ I healed you. What took y-you so long to-to come back?” The full-body sobs that wracked Raziel’s body made his words almost unintelligible.

“I’m here, it’s all right,” Conquest soothed. He wanted to stroke Raziel’s back, wanted to stroke those wings, but he was trapped beneath them. It wasn’t so bad; he was warm, and if it gave his Angel comfort he would lay there for as long as needed.

“I almost lost you.”

“I think you have that backwards,” Conquest said. For too many excruciating moments, Conquest had lost Raziel. He had been dead. His essence had left his body, and his soul had fled. Whatever had happened, it didn’t change the fact that Raziel had died.

“I love you! Please don’t scare me like that again.”

“And I love you, Raziel.” There was no doubt in Conquest, not anymore. He’d already faced down the prospect of eternity without Raziel. “You’re mine, forever, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Raziel sobbed. He kissed Conquest and Conquest opened for him, allowing him to lead, just this once. He tugged his arm free of the wings and used it to wrap around Raziel’s neck, holding him in place as they explored each other. He wanted to continue, wanted to assure himself that his Angel was truly here by laying him out and tasting every inch of him. But he needed answers first.

“How long was I out?” Conquest urged. He needed to know what had happened, where they stood. He needed to know where Uriel was. He would pay for what he had done, Conquest would make sure of it.

Raziel pulled away and sat beside Conquest, his wings curling in to make themselves small against his back. As small as he could, anyway, considering the size of them. They were big enough they could wrap Conquest’s large frame completely within them. Conquest didn’t have the words to say how much he was already in love with them. He enjoyed desecrating wings more than any of his other vices but these wings? These wings he would kill to protect, would die to protect.

“Two-two days,” Raziel said. He wiped his wet cheeks with the backs of his hands. “Famine and Death were here, fort-fortifying the fences so no-one could get in. That was-was yesterday.”

A lot could happen in two days. Conquest sat up and urged Raziel to curl into his arms. He couldn’t help the way his fingertips danced across his wings, giving equal attention to all six. Soft, like the most coveted fabric in the world. So soft they almost couldn’t be real. They trembled under his touch and he wondered what they would taste like, if he licked them.

He put two fingers under Raziel’s chin and forced him to look up. “Tell me what happened, Raziel.”

Raziel brokenly recounted what had happened, with Death, with Abaddon, with everything. It poured out of him, even as he trembled within Conquest’s arms. Conquest wished he could take the memories, and the pain that came with them, from him. Abaddon, that slimy fuck. Trust him to find a way to cheat death, to outsmart even God. He hoped Death had ended him, properly ended him, so he could never return.

“He’s-he was-I’m him,” Raziel whispered, horror etched in his voice. “He tortured that Demon, but it was me. I did that.”

“No,” Conquest disagreed. “Whatever form you once took, it was not Abaddon. You were created from him, you are not him.”

“What’s-what’s the difference?”

Conquest pressed a gentle kiss to Raziel’s forehead. He continued to touch his gorgeous black feathers, because he couldn’t make himself stop. Raziel spread one wing over their laps, giving Conquest more room to stroke.

“You are an Angel. Your very essence is Angelic, your aura is nothing but purity. Abaddon couldn’t fake that, even if he’d wanted to. Whatever created you, it was permanent. As much as Diablo may wish, it cannot be undone and Abaddon will never return to him. There is nothing he can do to bring back those memories, or recreate the experiences that shaped who Abaddon was.”

“He was so cruel, so… evil.”

In a way, Abaddon was consumed by evil far more than Diablo ever had been. Circumstances made Diablo who he was, he had not always been that way. He was certifiably insane, but he was not the one responsible for it, nor the one that needed to answer for it. Abaddon had paved his own path to depravity.

“Was his Power poison?”

The question was quiet and hit right at Conquest’s heart. He couldn’t lie to his Angel, but he wished Raziel hadn’t asked. “Yes.”

Raziel flinched.

“No two Powers are ever the same, even if the base of it is. Abaddon was poison, yes, but yours is not the same as his.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Abaddon only ever knew how to cause pain.” Conquest pressed a kiss to the corner of Raziel’s mouth. “You, my Angel, could never be like him. Your Power is attuned to who you are. I have no doubt you could cause pain, if you wished. But the pleasure he got from it, the thrill, is something you would never feel.”

“I-I hurt Uriel. I took-”

Conquest’s gaze followed where Raziel was looking. The coffee table was lodged in the wall and a piece of a wing had been placed upon it. It was mostly blackened, mildly shriveled, but there were specks of white. A white Conquest had only ever seen on one Being.

“Did you do that?”

“It-” Raziel’s lower lip trembled. “It wasn’t intentional. I just wanted him to leave, I just wanted to save you.”

Fucking hell . Raziel had squared off against Uriel, without Conquest there to protect his Angel. He may have won, but Conquest knew he could have just as easily lost. Uriel wasn’t an Archangel to trifle with and Raziel’s Gift was so new to him, so untamed and unreliable.

Conquest cradled Raziel’s face in his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. The dried blood flaked away beneath his touch. A single tear slid down Raziel’s cheek and Conquest swiped his thumb across it, the clear liquid mixing with the dried blood. He’d almost lost this. For a moment, he had .

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Raziel’s lips, a whisper of touch he felt down to the depths of his soul. “You did save me,” Conquest breathed. He laid a trail of kisses along Raziel’s jaw, then down to his throat, along the smooth skin where Uriel’s cut had once been. Raziel arched his chin on a silent gasp, giving Conquest more room. “You own me.” His fingers were unsteady as they followed the same route as his mouth. “ All of me.”

A slight tug to Raziel’s shirt had it tearing to pieces, the holes already formed from his wings acting as leverage. With a firm hand on the small of Raziel’s back, just below his bottom wing, Conquest’s mouth made its way down Raziel’s chest, tasting the smooth creamy skin. The skin was warm beneath him, and the rhythmic, staccato beating of his heart was a soothing counterpoint to Conquest’s own. A constant assurance that despite seeing his dead body lying in a pool of blood, Raziel was here; alive, breathing and comfortingly warm.

“I was so afraid,” Raziel whispered.

“You’re okay,” Conquest said. He pulled a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, before rolling the hardened nub between his teeth.

Raziel let out a soft moan, his fingers threading themselves in Conquest’s hair. “I was afraid for you, not me,” he said hoarsely.

Conquest pulled him down for another kiss, this one deeper than the last. The taste of his Angel on his tongue was like a balm to soothe all wounds. “We’re okay,” he said against Raziel’s lips, before diving in for another kiss. “We’re okay,” he repeated, like a mantra. They were both okay, they were both here. Conquest had faced death many times over his long years as an Immortal. It didn’t mean the same thing as it did to mortals. It was rarely ever permanent, and he’d never been afraid. He would always return to his brothers, return to the fight, return and keep going.

Echoes of the true fear he had felt when Raziel had left this world still lingered, like a physical ache. He had been so close to losing everything. He had wanted death, wanted Uriel to sever his soul from his body so he could resurrect and forget. He wondered if Uriel had been right; would this ache have remained in his heart regardless?

Raziel shifted to straddle him, his wings wrapping around Conquest and cocooning them within the midnight black. The drops of poison that dripped on Conquest were cool to the touch, giving him a pleasant tingle. He tilted his head, resting one side against the impossibly soft feathers.

Conquest collected some of the poison that seeped from the tips of the feathers with a fingertip. It coated it, dripping down the sides. He had never seen Abaddon wield it this way. Abaddon had never used his Power the way other Immortals did. He preferred the thrill of the chase, he preferred getting in your mind and fucking you up in other ways. The poison was used last, and it was used to cause the maximum amount of pain and damage, but only when you were caught and had no way to escape it. Conquest had never felt the sting of Abaddon’s poison, but he didn’t imagine he could touch it like this, feel it like this, without pain.

He pressed his fingertip to his mouth, tasting the poison. It had a bittersweet tang that captivated his taste-buds. He sucked his finger into his mouth, licking it clean.

“Con?”

Conquest gathered more on his finger and swiped the green across Raziel’s cheek, much preferring it to the red that took up too much of his Angel’s gorgeous skin. He covered Raziel’s bottom lip with the gleaming poison. His tongue followed the streak, lapping it up, before fusing their mouths together, plunging deep and giving Raziel a taste of himself. Conquest ran the back of his hands over Raziel’s silky feathers, tiny zings of pleasure racing up his arm, causing the hairs on them to stand up straight.

He wanted to mark his Angel’s skin, wanted to put them in places where everyone could see and know that Raziel belonged to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, couldn’t bear to be the cause of another mark on Raziel, not at that moment. It would be a long time before the image of Raziel’s blood coating them both would fade enough that his chest wouldn’t feel as though it were being crushed. Instead, he brushed light kisses across Raziel’s shoulder.

“Take off your pants,” he whispered in Raziel’s ear. He tongued it, causing a full body shudder to run through Raziel.

While Raziel stood and shimmied out his dirty, ripped pants, Conquest removed his broken armor with a wave of his hand. He bit his lip and let out a deep groan when Raziel settled back onto him, their bare skin sliding together.

Raziel licked Conquest’s Adam’s apple, tasting him like a treat. Conquest curled his hands over the apex of Raziel’s top wing, encouraging. “Bite me, harder.” He may not want to break Raziel’s skin, but the idea of Raziel breaking his, marking him, had him feeling weak in the knees. His Angel could lay claim to him however and whenever he wanted.

Raziel obediently sank his teeth into the tender skin beneath them. The pain went straight to Conquest’s dick like a live wire. He groaned and bent to capture Raziel’s mouth in a deep, desperate kiss, their tongues tangling together. He put a hand on his Angel’s lower back, atop the feathers, and urged him to scoot forward, setting his ass comfortably over his dick.

Raziel placed a hand above Conquest’s heart, his fingers curling in. The poison on his hand smeared across Conquest’s skin. “You lost this,” he whispered, taking in a shaky breath. “It had just been-it was-”

Conquest covered Raziel’s hand, holding it in place over his heart. “You put it back. Can you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Every beat is for you.”

Raziel used the tips of the longer feathers on the underside of a wing to brush across Conquest’s chest. His nipples hardened as tiny goosebumps erupted all over his skin. He raised his hips, pushing harder into the cleft of Raziel’s ass, needing the friction. Raziel pushed down on him and the mix of pain and pleasure was pure perfection. “I need to feel you, please,” Raziel begged.

“Anything for you,” Conquest said. He understood that need, could feel it thrumming inside him as well. That desire to take, to own, to reassure themselves they were both here, that they had both survived.

Raziel ran his fingers all over Conquest’s skin, leaving thick dripping lines of green in his wake. Conquest tasted every inch of Raziel that he could reach, including his wings. He lapped up some of the cool poison onto his tongue and kissed Raziel, the taste mingling in the heat of their mouths.

Conquest scooped up some of it, before he hooked his arm below Raziel’s wings and around his lithe body. He pressed a finger to his Angel’s hole, circling it with the tip, coating it with the poison. It was thick enough that it would work nicely as lubricant.

Raziel squirmed, trying to impale himself on the finger. Conquest smiled into the kiss as he moved his finger away, content to circle the tight skin for a while longer.

“ Please.”

Conquest slid his finger in up to the third knuckle. He twisted it, finding the spot that made Raziel jump in his arms with a wordless cry, his back arching. His wings tightened around Conquest, the feathers dancing across his skin like caresses. “Again,” Conquest said hoarsely. He loved to hear his Angel beg for him, to let go of all inhibitions and ask for what he wanted.

“Please. Please. Please.” Raziel repeated the word like a mantra as Conquest added another finger and slowly moved them in and out, scissoring and preparing his Angel. By the time he had four fingers inside him, Raziel’s had thrown his head back, his eyes closed in bliss as he gyrated on Conquest’s fingers. He was the most beautiful thing Conquest had ever seen.

“Are you ready?”

Raziel’s eyes opened, the bright blue glazed over as he locked onto Conquest. Those beautiful blue eyes were his, and his alone. Made for him. His perfect, deadly Angel.

“I’m always ready for you,” Raziel said softly.

Conquest couldn’t resist leaning in for another long, slow kiss. He pulled his fingers from Raziel and replaced them with his dick. The poison was thick and plentiful, and made for a smooth slide in. “Show me that I belong to you,” Conquest urged. “Ride me.”

Raziel fisted his hands against Conquest’s chest, his eyes shut tight as he pushed down.

“That’s it,” Conquest encouraged. “Nice and slow.” The word ended on a long groan as Raziel rolled his hips, taking Conquest even deeper. It was an exquisite torture, having Raziel lift his hips excruciatingly slowly before lowering and enveloping Conquest in that tight heat.

He pulled his Angel closer, tasting the tears falling from the corners of his eyes. “This is yours,” he whispered. “Only you get this, only you get to feel me fill you so completely.”

Raziel’s movements became more agitated, urgent. He wrapped his arms around Conquest’s neck, using it to balance himself as he pushed down harder, faster. “And you,” Raziel said huskily, the words a breathy whisper full of longing. “Only you. Please, I need-” he broke off, his voice cracking. He was breathing hard, and his legs trembled against Conquest’s thighs from the pace he was trying to keep.

Conquest groaned and buried his face into the curve of Raziel’s shoulder. He snapped his hips up in one violent thrust. Raziel cried out, a loud keening sound, as Conquest gave him what he asked for.

Raziel’s wings brushed against Conquest’s skin on every thrust, heightening the pleasure, spreading warmth from his groin to every part of his body. Conquest moved his hands down the soft lines of Raziel’s sides until he grasped his slim hips and used them to increase his pace.

“Let me taste you,” Conquest demanded hoarsely. Raziel immediately lifted a hand, green liquid weeping from it. Conquest sucked on the digits, groaning low in his throat as the tingling poison flooded his mouth. So fucking good. He rubbed his lips and cheek on them as he let them slip from his mouth. “Are you close?”

“Yes-yes, so close,” Raziel practically wept.

“I want you to come all over your feathers. I want you to unload all over them, make them taste and smell of you.”

A wing curled between them, as if on instinct.

“Touch yourself, and come,” Conquest ordered. He was so fucking close himself, but he wanted Raziel to come first.

Raziel wailed, the wings holding Conquest underneath him curling tighter around Conquest’s back. He climaxed, his body vibrating as he covered his wing in his release. The way it caused Raziel’s ass to spasm around Conquest’s cock was almost his undoing. So. Fucking. Close. He could almost taste it, needed to bury himself so deep inside the Angel that they would be stuck together for eternity. They could live out the rest of their immortality joined together, just like this.

“Clean it up,” Conquest said, his voice strained from the effort of continuously fucking into Raziel like a jackhammer.

Raziel bent and the first lick caused his wings to flutter and caress Conquest’s stomach. It was the last straw and he came with a bellow, one last fierce thrust before he stilled, emptying himself in Raziel’s heat. His entire body quaked as the sensitivity of the feathers and pressure surrounding him became almost too much. And yet, not enough.

It would never be enough. He would spend the rest of his Immortal life needing this Angel, craving him on the deepest level.

He pulled Raziel down and kissed him, his saliva and poison mixing together in Conquest’s mouth like ambrosia.

Conquest’s kisses turned languid and sated as his body thrummed with pleasure. He would never tire of being with his Angel. Would never tire of touching him, feeling him, burying himself inside him until neither of them could think straight.

The walls and floor rumbled as an explosion rocked the house. Raziel squeaked and Conquest pulled him closer, cradling his head to his own chest. What the fuck had that been?

War rushed into the room and stopped short. “I’m not cleaning that sofa,” he warned them.

“Unless you’re here to say something useful, get the fuck out,” Conquest snapped.

“It’s Diablo,” War said. Another explosion rocked the house and War had to press a hand against the wall to steady himself. “He’s fucking surrounded us with a goddamn army!”

* * *

Conquest pulled the sheet that was draped over the back of the sofa and wrapped it around Raziel’s naked form. No-one else was allowed to look at all that smooth, milky skin except him. He ensured Raziel was comfortable before he stood and conjured a new suit of his Horseman armor.

In two long strides he was at the window, pulling back the curtain. The fence line was too far away for him to discern anything. “An entire army, for Raziel?” He glanced at Raziel, huddling on the sofa. The wings underneath were still leaking poison and soaking the sheet, turning it to a shade of deep green.

“Diablo is fucking delusional,” War growled. “He’s so stuck on this idea that he just needs to push and Abaddon will magically reappear.”

In a way, Diablo hadn’t been wrong. If Death hadn’t interfered when Uriel had killed Raziel, then, from what Raziel had told him, there was a good chance Abaddon would have returned and Raziel would have been lost to him forever.

“Have you tried contacting Famine and Death?”

“Diablo is doing something,” War said. He crossed one arm over his chest and tugged on his braid, sending bursts of flame through it. “I can’t summon the fog, and there’s no way we’re fighting our way through, not without your crown. It’s like he’s brought the entire Hells to us.”

Fucking hell. Conquest hadn’t had a chance yet to fully deal with the loss of his Focus. He would get it back, even if he had to pry it from an Archangel's dead fingers. But right now, thoughts of revenge were useless. He didn’t have it, and without it, he was only as strong as the strongest Angel or Demon . He was no real match for an Archangel or a high-level Demon, though he could put up a fight if his reserves were full. Unfortunately, his reserves were not full.

An entire army was far beyond that. He ignored the curl of anger at the unfamiliar feeling of such helplessness.

“Are we-are we… can they get in?” Raziel asked, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.

War rubbed at his forehead. “Not yet. But the protections won’t hold forever. Death was weak when he left. Between finding you, dealing with Abaddon and then adding the extra barriers, he’s completely depleted.”

“Famine won’t leave his side,” Conquest said. He couldn’t . Death was vulnerable in that kind of state, and Immortals would come out of the woodwork if they realized he was weakened, to try and take him down, “that means it’s just us.”

“So what do we do?”

Conquest shrugged. “We wait. Perhaps Diablo will get bored.”

Another explosion rocked the house. A glass vase on a display table near the window wobbled and fell, breaking on the carpet. Raziel yelped and curled further into himself.

War snorted. “Not unless a new shiny comes out to distract him. And since Famine doesn’t know what’s happened, he won’t be joining us.”

They were practically sitting ducks. Fucking lovely.

“I’m going to - I need to - I’m going to get dressed,” Raziel stammered out. “Will it be safe for me to go on my own?”

“He won’t be getting in any time soon,” War said. “I’ll go walk the perimeter, check that it’s holding.”

Raziel hurried from the room, the tips of his wings dragging on the floor and leaving a trail of sizzling green.

War gave Conquest a swift nod before taking his leave as well.

Conquest sat on the edge of the sofa, fatigue overwhelming him in a way he wasn’t used to. He had known what losing his crown would do to him, but since he’d never been willing to give it up before, he’d never experienced the weakness first-hand.

He could sense it deep in his soul. His strength was still there but just out of reach. He could feel it, but he couldn’t touch it, couldn’t pull it out. The surface strength was available, and the rest of it was locked away in a box he no longer had the key for.

He wanted to test it, to see how much he could potentially bring up, but it would leave him weak and they couldn’t afford that right now.

“Perimeter is fine. Diablo is testing us out, throwing low level Demons at it for now, with a few big hits every now and again.” War sat heavily on a sofa with a huff. He spread his legs wide and bent his arms on the back of the sofa. “Fucker isn’t even there right now.” He bent a leg and rested his ankle on his knee. “If Raziel was really Abaddon-”

“He was.”

“-then Diablo is unlikely to stop. You know that, right? We’re about to fight a war none of us are prepared for. For an Angel?”

Conquest stared down at his hands. Weakness, powerlessness. They didn’t sit well with him, but he had chosen to give up a part of himself, for an Angel. “I gave up my crown for him.”

“Fucking hell, Con. Are you serious?”

“This doesn’t have to be your fight.” Conquest raised his head and locked eyes with his brother. “But I’ll be here till the end, because I can’t allow anyone to take him from me, not again.”

A noise at the entryway had them on their feet, weapons in hand, in an instant.

Raziel’s eyes widened. He hesitated in the doorway, a light blue shirt pressed against his naked chest. At least he was wearing pants. Comfortable sweatpants as opposed to tight jeans. Conquest preferred the tight jeans but sweatpants were easier to remove if he wanted quick access.

“You can’t fight in those,” War said, rolling his eyes. “And you need to put the shirt on . If we have to show you how to get dressed, we’ve all got bigger problems.”

“I can’t- it doesn’t fit over the wings.” The six wings in question were curved in, trailing behind Raziel’s slender frame. They drooped on the floor, as though they were wet noodles rather than pure muscle and bones. He looked like a sad baby bird.

War and Conquest glanced at each other. “So retract them?” War said slowly. “Please tell me you know how to use those things.”

“I was-was never trained,” Raziel said. He visibly swallowed. “I never had them, so why would they teach me how to use them?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” War said. He turned, tugging on his braid in frustration. “Con’s been fucking neutered and we have an Angel who has a kickass Gift but doesn’t even know how to use their fucking wings. We’re all gonna die here. Diablo is gonna walk right in the front door, own our fucking asses and take Raziel, without even breaking a sweat.”

“You might want to take the dramatics down a notch, War,” Conquest said. The words stung but he didn’t allow them to take hold. He had not been fucking neutered, and he was not weak. “We have time, let’s see if we can at least get the wings to retract. You worked out flight, Raziel, since you got us here. Control over them is the next step.” It wasn’t something Conquest had ever thought about before; he knew how to hurt them, how to manipulate Angels to make themselves vulnerable so he could rip them from their bodies. But how to use them? That was a new one.

“Easy. Just suck them in. Done.”

Raziel looked at War like he’d grown a second head. “Suck it in? That’s your advice?”

“What do you want me to say? We aren’t exactly experts on Angel fucking wings!”

“Well neither am I!” Raziel yelled back. “I’ve lived a hundred years of being shunned, of being looked down on! Of being weak, broken, treated like a pariah! I was never cared for, never equal, never trained !” He took a deep breath, wringing his shaking hands together, before continuing, his voice quiet. “I was placed among the Angels, but I never belonged and they made sure I knew it. So if all you’re going to do is make fun of me, and berate me and talk down to me about something I was never taught because the Angels were too busy treating me like dirt under their fingers, then I’m going to leave. I’ll take my chances with the Devil.”

Raziel’s mouth trembled, but his eyes were determined, and strong.

Conquest smirked, his heart beating with pride and love for the tiny Angel who had been so afraid when they had met, and was now coming into his own. Enough to stand up to War .

War laughed, a giant guffawing. “Damn, Raz! You got some pent-up anger hidden in there.” He grinned at Conquest. “I think we should keep him.”

Conquest pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s instinctual for all Angels, which means that we just need to find a way to tap into it.” He approached Raziel, and traced the edges of his feathers with his fingers. “Your wings are part of who you are. It’s just like having an extra limb…or six.”

Raziel gave Conquest a small, secret smile and Conquest couldn’t resist leaning down to have a taste of it.

“Con is right. They aren’t a weapon you wield, they’re an extension of who you are. Get out of the way,” War said to Conquest, coming up beside him.

Conquest waited for Raziel to nod that it was all right before he took a step back. But not far enough away he couldn’t intervene if War did something stupid.

“When you want to pick something up, you extend your arm. When you want to eat something you open your mouth and you chew. When you want Conquest to fuck you, you bend over and present your ass.”

Conquest smacked War on the back of the head. “I’m about to use you as bait for Diablo so we can get clear.”

War winked at Raziel, and Conquest was tempted to hit him again.

“The point is, if you want to retract them so you can put on a shirt,” War said, “and stop dripping all over the floor and leaving holes in the carpet, then you just need to do it. Just like you would any other part of you.”

“Which sounds fine in theory,” Raziel said. “But it means nothing to me in practice. When I fly they kind of just take over? That isn’t me. I don’t know how to do what you want me to do.”

“It is you,” Conquest said. “Instinct, remember?”

“Think about the other Angels. The Archangels, even.”

“I frequently do,” Conquest said dryly. “They aren’t warm, tender thoughts.”

Raziel frowned, sadness clouding his expression.

“Putting aside our burning hatred for them and their fucking pious bullshit,” War said, as he crossed his arms over his chest, “they have complete mastery of their wings. They’re so in tune with them that their wings move before they do, you understand? Perfect sync.”

Conquest narrowed his eyes as he leaned his back against the wall. “Spent a lot of time watching Archangels, War?”

“Fuck off.” War placed a hand on Raziel’s shoulder. “It’s effortless for them, Raz. Close your eyes.”

Conquest placed a hand on the wall behind him to brace himself as the structure around them rattled and shook. He frowned at the ceiling. “Fucking hell, he’s persistent. How long do you think it will take him to get in?”

“A day, maybe less,” War surmised. “There are a fuckton of Demons out there, Con. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Hells were empty right now.”

Damn. Without a secure way out, without his crown and without Famine and Death, Conquest had no idea how they were getting out of this. This could really be their last day on Earth.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Raziel asked, scrunching up his face.

“No,” War said. “Lesson isn’t over. Picture your wings, and then picture them moving.”

Raziel’s brow creased and his lips pinched together.

“No, don’t try and move them,” War said. “Picture it. Feel it.” The windows rattled and a flaming stone shot through the glass. War lifted a hand and extinguished it. “Ignore that. Concentrate.”

Raziel took a breath, his face smoothing out. Ten minutes passed with no change. At twelve minutes the bottom row of wings began to lift slowly from the ground, until the tips were hovering from the floor. The top row began to fold in, until they were completely gone. The middle row and then the bottom followed suit.

“Annnnd that’s how you get it done,” War said, hitting Raziel in the back where the wings had been. The smack against bare skin was loud, even through War’s cackle.

Raziel’s eyes flew open as the impact of War’s hand caused him to stumble a few steps forward. “What?” He twisted in a circle, trying to get a look at his back. “Did I do it?” He beamed, his blue eyes bursting with specks of dark green. “I did it!” He jumped at Conquest and into his waiting arms, squeezing hard.

Conquest kissed the underside of Raziel’s jaw. “I knew you could do it.”

“This is cute and all, but we still have other problems,” War pointed out. He rested his shoulder against the wall beside the window and peeked out. “The Fallen Angels are front and center. I hate just waiting here for them to get in.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Conquest asked. He took the shirt from Raziel and helped him fit it over his head. He frowned at the poison and blood still staining his Angel’s skin. Conquest bet he looked a mess, himself.

“No,” War grumbled.

“Then we wait. We’re going to wash up, we’ll be back in an hour.” The thought of Raziel’s wings, glistening with water, crowding them in the shower, was more than appealing.

* * *

Raziel eyed the towering staircase below him. He bit his lip and checked that he was alone. He pulled his shirt up and over his head and unfurled his wings, unable to help the grin on his face. He hadn’t worked out how the other Angels and Archangels managed to bring out their wings without damaging their clothing, but it was something he could worry about later.

He took a few steps back, then surged forward and jumped, gliding over the stairs. He tilted his body and surged downwards. With a mighty flap of his wings he managed to come to a complete stop, his feet inches from the tiled floor.

He set himself down gently and put his wings back in, before putting his shirt back on.

Raziel jerked backwards when two small daggers embedded themselves in the floor as he walked into the living room where Conquest and War were waiting for him. It coincided with another launch of whatever it was Lucifer was throwing at them, the entire house vibrating from the pressure. Raziel stumbled and had to press a hand against the wall to stop from falling.

War grinned lopsidedly at him. It was borderline maniacal and Raziel had to admit that it scared him. War was a big guy, and he was loud, and scary. Conquest was deadly, deliberate and quiet. War was nothing like that, and Raziel didn’t know how to respond to it.

“They’re for you,” Conquest said.

Raziel bent and pulled them from the floor. When he got them free he realized they weren’t actually daggers at all. They had three prongs, the two sides shorter than the middle, a lot shorter. He closed his eyes and pulled the information from them. Sai, a three-pronged melee weapon. The main prong (monouchi), bracketed by two curved side-prongs (yoku) protruding from a handle (tsuka). Ideal for close combat.

“What are you doing?” War asked slowly.

“It’s how he learns about things,” Conquest said. “Give him a moment.”

“Does it sound like we have a moment out there?” War let out a breath and tapped his sword against his hip. “Fuck, I wish Famine was here. He’s a way better teacher than either of us.”

“Patient too,” Conquest agreed. “He just needs to know the basics. Enough to defend himself if he needed to. Chances are he won’t; that poison is lethal.” He crooked his finger at Raziel. “Well, get over here then.”

Raziel sent him a wary look as he padded across the room. Were they going to hurt him? Raziel couldn’t fight. If Uriel hadn’t fled from him and chosen to fight he wasn’t sure what the outcome would have been. He’d been running on pure adrenalin, and making it up as he went. The Archangel would be prepared next time, and Raziel was counting on the Horsemen to protect him from any and all threats. They wanted him to be able to protect himself? From beings that were millennia old?

Conquest took one of the Sai from Raziel’s hand. “Hold it like this,” he said, demonstrating. “Put your thumb at the base of the middle grip. You want to keep it for stability, and control. And you can use it to flip your grip.”

“Is that a euphemism?” War asked with a snort.

Conquest flung the Sai at War. It hit the wall beside his head, the edge of the blade so close to the tip of War’s ear that it was almost touching.

War pulled it out and twisted it in his hand. “No blood. You’re getting soft, Con.” He threw it back at Conquest but Conquest was too quick, catching it one-handed.

“When you hold the handle it’s called a normal grip. You can use this position to stab, and hit at enemies that are further away. It gives you some safe distance from your target. When you place your thumb between the middle and side prong, and then spin it in your grip and grab hold with your fingers, you’ve got a better handle on it for close encounters. You can use it to block, punch, hook, whatever you want. If they get too close, you flip it in your hand, slice them open, you understand?”

Raziel nodded. “I understand.”

“It’s for emergencies,” Conquest said. “Keep them on you.” He picked up a belt from nearby and strapped it around Raziel’s waist, his fingers skimming Raziel’s skin and sending goosebumps racing up his sides. The Sai fit perfectly in slots on each side of Raziel’s hip. The weight was oddly comforting. Even if his poison failed him, he couldn’t run and he had no one to protect him, at least he wouldn’t be completely defenseless.

War pushed off the wall as he conjured a ball of flame, bouncing it in his hand. “I’m fucking sick of this shit. I’m not a defensive kind of person.” He extinguished the flame by clenching his hand into a fist. “It’s time to go on the offensive.”

“What do you suggest?” Conquest said. “We have a hoard of Demons between us and the exit, no way to call for help and no backup coming.”

“I say we get some backup.”

“We can’t get out,” Conquest said impatiently. “What part of that don’t you understand?”

“I didn’t say call for Famine or Death. Death’s useless right now anyway. He’ll be down for weeks after what he pulled in the last four days.”

Raziel looked down, guilt swamping him. That had been his fault. All of this was his fault. The Archangels had used him, and now Lucifer was willing to kill to get him. “Who-” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump wedged there. “Who are we calling for help?”

“The Heavens.”

“What the fuck, War? You want to ask the Heavens for help? Did you forget so easily what they tried to do to us? What Uriel did to Raziel?”

“Before you bite my fucking head off, let me finish,” War said, scowling. His braid burst into flame, coating the long tail in bright flickers of orange and red. “We need an army to fight an army. The Archangels are going to want to put your boy on a leash after this. God made a play and it backfired; they’re gonna wanna cover that up.”

Conquest leaned his hip against the counter and stroked his beard. “You’re missing the biggest flaw in your fucked up plan.”

“It’s not fucked up,” War argued. “So fuckin’ judgmental.” He flipped his sword onto his back and the straps linked into place on their own, securing it. “Let’s hear it, all mighty one. What’s the flaw?”

“We can’t send any messages, War. None. We can’t access the fog, and we can’t exactly walk right out the front gates.”

“That’s where he comes in.”

Raziel froze when the two Horsemen turned to look at him. His heart skipped a painful beat and a flush rose up his neck. “M-me?”

“Archangels can’t ignore one of their own when they’re in pain,” War said.

“I tried that already,” Conquest said. “Do you know how long it took for Uriel to come? Not to mention, he left Raziel with me after that anyway.”

Raziel shuddered at the reminder of the torture he’d endured at Conquest’s hand. Not an activity he really wanted to repeat. But it did make a sort of sense.

“Lucy wasn’t after him then. Do you really think the Heavens are going to allow Abaddon to return to the Hells?”

Conquest shook his head. “No. Next plan.”

“What?”

“Wait, don’t I get a say?” Raziel interjected.

“I said no. We’re not using Raziel as fucking bait.”

Raziel fisted his hands against his stomach to stop them from trembling. “It isn’t your choice,” he said, trying to sound firm. “I-I like the plan. I think we should do it.”

“It’s not happening.”

Raziel ignored the rapid beating of his pulse, the way his fear threatened to overwhelm him. The last thing he wanted to do was feel that excruciating pain once more. “It makes sense,” he insisted. “Bring in the Angels to f-fight the Demons.”

Conquest palmed Raziel’s cheek, caressing Raziel’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I won’t hurt you. We’ll find another way.”

“Then let War do it,” Raziel insisted. “I need to do this. Everything that’s happened. It’s my fault, and this is how I can make it right.”

“Make it right, how? By letting us torture you so we can start a war?” He tugged Raziel into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “No, there are other ways.”

Raziel struggled and forced Conquest to let him go. He stood his ground, lifting his chin and steeling his spine. “I said we’re doing it. And since I’m the bait, I think it should be my choice.”

A muscle ticked in Conquest’s jaw but the flare in his eyes told a different story. His eyes did that when he was inside Raziel, when he was touching Raziel’s wings, when he was turned on. He might not like that Raziel was putting his foot down, but it was getting him hot. And that was how Raziel knew he had won. They were doing this. He wanted to do this. He would go through the pain a million times over if it meant keeping Conquest and the other Horsemen safe.

He felt sick.