Authors: Rhys Ford
“You want the oddest things, Ari,” Death replied with a shake of his head. Tossing Ari’s borrowed blade back to him, Death worked the fatigue from his fingers with a shake before retrieving his long blade.
“Min, can you stand to help?” Death didn’t look back, not wanting to meet her eyes if she refused. The woman grunted, pushing free from the wall to grab at her discarded blades. Nodding at her decision, Death glanced at their youngest.
“I’ll do what I can, Death.” Mal reluctantly dropped his arms from Kismet’s waist, stopping when the older Horseman shook his head. “I can help.”
“Just keep Kismet behind us, Mal,” Death said. “If the creature gets past us, you have to get him to safety. We can’t risk someone else grabbing him. Take him to Peace if you have to. He won’t refuse you sanctuary.”
“Shit, if the kid’s got to run to Peace for protection, then this world is fucked.” Ari made a face when Death gave him a disparaging look. “Hey, I’m just telling the truth here.”
“Listen to me, Mal.” A warm smile reached the cold coffee ice of his eyes, a reassuring presence from the eldest Horseman. “I trust you to do this. If we can’t fight this thing off, you have to promise to take Kismet away. We can’t afford to have the magus get ahold of him. Agreed?”
“Okay.” Mal nodded, pushing his fears back down to their haven in his belly.
“Death, the best thing we could do is kill that kid.” Ari turned, muttering under his breath. “And the magus too.”
The creature’s broad head turned toward the Horsemen, bloodred steel eyes nictitating as it blinked. Death would have loosely called it a canine, its four appendages ending in long sharp talons that tore up the floor as it walked. The summoned wraith stepped free from the pool of blood Beckett used to shape his rage into the shadowed form.
Min swallowed loudly beside War, gulping down her trembling shock at the size of the creature.
It tasted the air, a long flick of a serpentine tongue licking the space under its flat muzzle. Horns stabbed up unevenly from the crown of its skull, the mottled shadows of its body writhing into continuously moving spirals.
“Gods, it’s huge,” Mal whispered to no one in particular. The hard wood floor surrendered curls of lacquer and peeled grain under its claws, leaving shreds of honey-beige shavings in its path. The creature’s barely formed lips peeled back from its mouth, long, jagged points lining its uneven jawbone.
“Looks like a Rottweiler and a triceratops fucked each other silly and left that at the back door of some whorehouse.” Ari grimaced. “Gonna be a bitch to kill. Have to probably saw through that neck.”
“Probably,” Death agreed. “It might be hard to pierce the eye socket into the skull. I’d be afraid to break the katana on its bone. Are you ready, Min?”
Min nodded silently, her nerves taut and near to the breaking point. The aches along her thighs and upper arms twitched when she moved with the faintest effort. Despite her weakness, she stood shoulder to shoulder with War, wondering how much good she would be able to do against a wraith forged from grief and revenge. The wraith’s muscular legs bunched as it crouched, preparing to attack.
Beckett sat back on his haunches, becoming aware of his surroundings. The beast’s breath ruffled his clothes, running hot over his shaved pate. Drawn by the power of his largest creation, the magus touched the slavering string of drool hanging from the wraith’s gaping maw, tangling his fingers into the viscous stream. Beckett’s flesh smoked as he came into contact with the creature’s acidic saliva.
Howling in pain, the magus shook his arm, trying to free his skin from the burning fluid. The spit splattered wide, separating into dots that curved in the air, striking the human’s tender body. Drawn by the screams, the monster stepped closer to the magus, his nose nearly touching Beckett’s face.
Scrubbing at his arm with the edge of his shirt, Beckett howled when he realized he’d only driven the acid farther into the sheets of skin peeling back from his arm. The open meat below cooked with a low sizzle, the foyer filling with the sweet sickly odor of crackling, decaying flesh.
“Beckett!” Charity shouted, starting across the floor. The wraith raged at the immortal, splattering spittle as it shook its head. Startled, he reared back, his common sense warring with his desire to protect Faith’s lover.
Rot dripped into Beckett’s body from the wraith’s mouth, eating through the fabric of his clothes and ripping through the skin below. Burrowing down into the magus’s stomach, dots of shadows migrated toward the tender promise of ropy intestines, offal swelling from the heat of Beckett’s cooking body.
Another bite, and a chunk of the magus’s cheek disappeared into the creature’s ravenous mouth. Barely stopping to chew, the wraith placed a heavy paw on its creator, its claws digging deep into the man’s chest. Holding Beckett down with its massive weight, the wraith continued to assault the man’s squirming body. A piece of arm vanished, the joint ripped from Beckett’s shoulder with a wrenching twist of the wraith’s head.
Mal started forward, instinctively reacting to the man’s pain. Death’s steady hand on his shoulder stopped Mal short, the magus’s dying cries rising and falling under the wraith’s vicious bites. Fighting to break free, Mal tore loose, just in time for Ari to envelop him from behind, firmly holding Mal in place. Angry, Mal turned on Death, his face red with frustration. Ari released the youngest Horseman at a nod from Death, Mal pushing away the other blond’s arms.
“No, Mal,” Death said quietly. “Leave the magus be. You won’t help him.”
“He’s going to die, Death.” Mal glanced at War, the blond Horseman shrugging off his concern. “We have to help him.”
“Free will, Pestilence.” Death’s coldness shocked Mal’s soul, the younger man stunned to silence. “Our noninterference works both ways. We’re not here to save mankind from itself.”
“That’s wrong,” Mal insisted, yanking his arm away from Death’s touch. “We can do more than that. Hell, we just can’t let that thing eat him alive.”
“Nope, Cooties, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Ari said, his eyes firm on the wraith. At the first sign of the creature moving toward them, he would attack, the spot between his shoulder blades itching in anticipation. “It’s not wrong. Humans make their own choices and live or die by them.”
“You two are so fucked-up,” Kismet replied, fighting with the helpless rage consuming him. Tears streaked his pale face, his long lashes clotted with dried salt. He shivered, a wave of dizziness swaddling his senses. The world spun on a pinprick, trails of colors following the Horsemen as they moved.
Charity broke free from his shock. He slid through a pool of blood, nearly spilling him onto his belly. Kicking at the wraith’s chest, he fought to get his hands under Beckett’s flailing arm. The creature struggled to regain a hold on the magus, its jaws snapping at the man’s head.
Desperate, the immortal pulled, wrenching his shoulders. A thin sheet of darkness welled behind him, pulsating through the seams around the elevator door. Pushing the Veil apart, Charity reached into its darkness, finding a thread resonating of Peace. The portal buckled around the edges, unstable and rippling.
“Bastard’s going to take him in.” Ari whistled low, stopping when the sound jerked the wraith’s head around. “Great, now I’m helping them go.”
“Let them go,” Death replied. “Charity’s not strong enough to carry a human through the Veil. If they survive, it won’t matter anymore.”
“If they don’t survive, then I won’t have the pleasure of killing that son of a bitch.” Complaining, Ari rolled his eyes at Death’s exasperated sigh. “Let me have my kicks, Shi. You keep dusty books. I kill people. Win-win.”
A silver thread rose from the darkness, pouring light into the lobby. Undulating, the ribbon sent a siren call, keening for the human soul in Beckett’s body. The magus went limp in Charity’s hands, overwhelmed by the draw of the unknown beyond the Veil. Holding onto Beckett, the immortal tumbled into the portal, burdened by the mortal’s extra weight.
Screaming, the wraith lurched after the men as the portal swirled closed. The dark sealed up, leaving the scent of singed flesh and metal behind. Angry at losing its prey, the wraith bit into a darkfae’s body, standing over its kill and growling at the Horsemen. Its head canted with each movement the Four made, protecting its meal against the other predators. Chewing, the creature gulped enormous bites out of the twitching bag of flesh and nerves, eating as quickly as it could fit the meat into its mouth.
“Damn, that thing’s going to eat us.” Kismet’s blood ran to ice, slowing him down. The young man tumbled forward, Mal reaching for him before he fell on his face. Shivering, he grabbed at the Horseman’s shirt, searching for warmth. “Shit, Mal, I’m so fricking cold.”
“He’s probably lost too much blood and needs a fix.” Ari looked over his shoulder. “Lay him back down before he passes out.”
Mal moved quickly, cradling Kismet as his legs gave out from under him. Easing against the wall, the youngest Horseman set him into the curve of his lap, an arm wrapped around Kismet to keep him in place. Kismet’s eyes fluttered closed, his body rocking with a shuddering wave of spasms. “I’m here, Kiz. I’m not leaving.”
“Why are we standing around waiting for that thing to start on us? Let’s just kill it,” Ari grumbled by Death’s side. He eagerly stepped forward, keeping his blades down.
Death followed closely, keeping a watchful eye on the summoned creature. His feet stuck to the floor, a sticky clinging mess trailing from under his heels, and his shoulder ached, a healing muscle torn from wrenching his sword free of a darkfae’s knee. With his fingers moistened with sweat, Death sighed again, circling around Ari in his approach to the wraith.
The creature growled, smoky trails rising from the floor where its spit dripped onto the wood. Digging its talons in, the wraith set its shoulders, craning its head to the side. Ari paced to the right, waiting for Death to mirror him. Pointed horns gave Ari pause, their tips hooked back toward the wraith’s narrow eyes. Coming in tight, Ari studied the creature’s squat body, looking for weaknesses in its structure.
“Shit, this thing is big.” Ari whistled under his breath. “Hell, it would take decades for one of these to grow this big naturally.”
“There’s nothing natural about this thing, Ari. Even for us.” Death nodded at the creature’s slight shift, its attention drawn by Min’s stealthy approach. The katana reflected the wraith’s body amid the splotches of drying blood, the sword’s edge scalloped and sharp.
Ari circled in tighter, stepping as loudly as he could, trying to draw the wraith to flinch and attack. The creature’s shoulders dipped slightly toward Death, its haunches bunching underneath its wide body. Diving in, Ari plunged a knife blade into the wraith’s side, hooking the tip into the creature’s ribs. The bone gave under War’s thrust as the creature twisted to lunge at Death.
Ari caught the wraith off guard, and it yelped, its maw closing over empty air. Death skidded out of the way, his bare feet slipping on the floor. Min echoed the wraith’s high-pitched screech, the wraith’s elongated fangs a whisper away from Death’s bare arm. Min cursed, berating herself silently for reacting, wincing an apology at the men.
“Need you to shut up, Min,” Ari grumbled, shaking the remains from his foot. “Making a noise like that means you’re being attacked.”
“Min, don’t draw it to you. Step in behind Ari. Use his body to shield yourself.” Death moved away, the wraith curling back to worry at the man’s long limbs. “Keep your attention on this thing, Ari.”
“Rather be on you,” Ari growled, stabbing down into the wraith’s neck. The creature’s thick muscles deflected his blow, sliding the blade across its neck. Dropping in close, he recoiled at the smell of the wraith’s breath in his nostrils. Snapping at Ari’s arm, the wraith caught a piece of the Horseman’s skin, peeling back curls of flesh with its sharp teeth.
Grunting at the sting from the wraith’s acidic spit, Ari smelled himself cooking, his skin bubbling black. “Oh, you are going to be kissing that and making it better, Shi.”
Ari twisted away, nearly turning his shoulders parallel to his hips as he ghosted past the wraith, pricking at the creature’s hocks. The summoned creature followed, trailing splotches of blood from its side, rearing, leaving its throat open for Death’s blade.
As the creature’s head turned, Death sliced out, letting his arc guide the blade into the softness of the creature’s gullet. The hit hammered a shock wave up his arms, a thick layering of scales biting back the attack. The wraith kept moving, segmented scales providing triangular armor over its throat, nearly hidden by the folds of muscle and stout fat around its neck.
“I can’t cut through its throat. It’s too protected,” Death shouted over the wraith’s growls. Ari stepped around, putting Death directly to his left. Death feinted a blow to the creature’s shoulder, hoping to draw its head up and bring a glistening eye within War’s reach.
Ari plunged in, a sharp jab at the fiery red target.
He nicked the edge of the creature’s eye, ribbons of rancid steam bursting out of the round orb. Screaming, the creature jerked free of the blade, snapping blindly at the Horsemen in front of it. Min saw a chance when the wraith raised a paw, hooking talons into Death’s leg. Stabbing at the creature’s head, she cursed at the thickness of its skull, her thrust deflected by the bony ridge above its eye.
The wraith turned, tracking Min’s follow-through, her shoulders twisting away from its snapping jaws. Her foot caught on a corpse, the darkfae’s wrist snagging at her balance. Tumbling, Min rolled, shifting her fall. She hit the floor hard, her lungs shocked into releasing her breath into the twitching muscles of her throat. Gasping, she fought for air, her empty hands frantically searching for the blade she’d dropped when she struck the unforgiving wood.
Leaping, the creature growled, spittle flying as it pounced at the woman. Its teeth closed on her leg, ripping apart her thigh muscle with a savage twist of its head. Shreds of skin crisped, her flesh poaching white from the caustic saliva. Unable to keep her screams down, Min grabbed at a darkfae’s broken blade, its handle lost in the fighting. Its keen edge cut into her bare hand, hot blood running down her slender arm. A hiss of curses was all Min allowed herself as she shoved the blade under the creature’s jaw, hoping to hit a soft spot in its gullet.