The Four Horsemen 2 - War (9 page)

Whispering woke Russell up, but he kept his eyes closed as he worked on figuring out who was in the room with him. When the voices rose, he recognised both Lam and War.
“Did you tell him anything about where I was?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? What could I have told him? You were off starting another war in some third-world country. Do you really think he’d have believed me?” Lam sounded outraged.
War grunted as if Lam had hit him. “I’m not sure you want me to answer that. I wouldn’t put it past you to make some comment like that.”
“Of course I didn’t say anything. I’m not a complete fuck-up who’s risking everything by falling in love with a mortal.”
“What? I’m not falling in love with him. I just see a lot of myself in Russell, that’s all.”
“Right. And I’m really Morningstar.”
“Don’t joke about him, Lam. You know he has ears everywhere and he’d love to get his hands on you.” War’s voice held fear.
Who was Morningstar? Why would he want to get hold of Lam? Who were they? Russell had the oddest feeling that none of them was human. Maybe it was their weird eyes, or the comments they’d made while talking to him, yet he found he wasn’t worried about them not being human. Stupid, but he felt safe with all of them.
“Don’t worry about Morningstar. He hasn’t left his cave since
He
threw them out. Getting back to the real topic of conversation, if you don’t love him now, you will soon enough.”
“Now you can see the future?” Annoyance coloured War’s words.
“Only when it comes to obnoxious Horsemen. Now I have to get back to what I was doing before Death interrupted me. I hope he doesn’t make it a regular habit. Of course, there’s only two of you left who haven’t found your redemption. Is Famine next?”
“Get out of here. I know I won’t bother you again. You’ll have to talk to Death about what his plans are.”
A door opened and shut. Russell couldn’t make up his mind whether he should continue pretending to be asleep or act like he’d just woke up. His bladder made the decision for him. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the bathroom.
After taking care of business and cleaning up, he stepped from the other room and met War’s curious gaze.
“How long were you really awake?”
“Ummm…not very long.” He eased over to the bed and sat on the edge, fidgeting with the frayed hem of his T-shirt.
War’s low hum told Russell War didn’t believe him. He took a breath and looked up, meeting those black eyes.
“What are you? I mean, Lam mentioned Horsemen, and other guys named Death and Famine. I assume Pestilence is out there as well. Are you like the Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Are the end times coming?”
Russell watched as War rubbed his jaw for a moment while studying him. He didn’t know what War was thinking, but he couldn’t help the fact that his body found War extremely attractive. His cock perked up, tenting his pyjama pants.
War’s eyebrows went up and lust flared in his eyes, but War seemed to keep his desire in check.
“Why don’t we check you out of the hotel? You can go out on the steppes with me. We can talk out there.”
He opened his mouth to protest. War might have helped Russell out and not done anything to him yet, but what was to stop War from chopping him up into little pieces once they were away from civilisation?
War raised his hand. “Look, you don’t know me really and it might be crazy to ask you this, but, please, trust me. I won’t hurt you. There are things about me it’s best no one else knows. I can get away with telling one person. Any more than that, and I could get my ass handed to me.”
“Lam knows,” Russell pointed out as he pushed to his feet and started packing the few items he’d taken out of his bag.
War moved to stand by the sliding door, staring out. “Lam is one of us. He wouldn’t say anything. He knows the risks we take and what could happen if mortals find out about us.”
“So you’re not human?”
“Not any more.”
Russell zipped his bag closed and tucked his wallet in his pocket. “I’m ready.”
War turned and smiled. “Good. Let’s check out, get some breakfast, and I can show you around my land.”
Russell stuffed any misgivings deep inside. He’d come to Mongolia to find a place he fit in. He knew Kansas would never be home again. Mongolia might not be either, but he had come to the other side of the world to find out for sure. The best way to see a country was to travel with a native and War was as close as Russell was going to get at the moment.
“All right.”
He tensed slightly as War walked up to him, cupped the back of his head and brought their mouths together. Russell rested his hands on War’s hips, not pulling him close, but not pushing him away either. He opened his lips, allowing War to slip his tongue in.
War took his time learning every nook of Russell’s mouth, teasing along his teeth and sucking on Russell’s tongue. His knees shook and Russell wanted nothing more than to let War lower him to the bed and fuck him senseless.
Moans filled the room when War broke the kiss and stepped back. Russell blinked, trying to get his bearings back and not wanting to beg War for more. War rubbed a rough thumb over Russell’s swollen bottom lip. Russell’s pulse stuttered.
“I don’t want our first time to be here. I want to take you under the open sky where we can feel the sun, hear the wind, and know we’re part of something much bigger than just our lives.”
Russell’s heart melted a little. He nodded and snatched up his bag, following War out of the room. They made their way down to the front desk, where he checked out. War flagged down a taxi.
“Where are we going?”
“I have a friend who lives on the outskirts of the city. I always leave my Land Rover with him when I come into town.” War gave the cabbie the address after they’d slid into the backseat.
“Who watches your horses? Do you have a hawk? Was that dream real or fake?”
He tapped his fingers on his thighs, not sure what to do. He really wanted to lean against War, letting the man support him on those broad shoulders.
“Well, I do have a hawk. Actually, Singqor is a gyrfalcon. In a way it was a dream because your body wasn’t really there, but your spirit was.” War frowned. “I’m not sure I can explain how that happened in any way that would make sense to you. I have some friends who take my horses into their herd to keep an eye on them while I’m gone.”
“Makes sense,” Russell muttered.
“I have one stallion and they have him cover some of their mares. They keep the foals and I don’t have to actually pay them. It’s a win-win situation for both of us.” War reached and laid his hand on top of Russell’s. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out.”
“It’s not that I’m scared or anything like that. Just nervous because this isn’t like me. I don’t take off with strangers out into the wilds of a foreign county. I’ve watched shows about people who do that and nothing good ever comes of it.”
War chuckled. “Those people did stupid things, Russell. You didn’t. Don’t you think anyone seeing us leave the hotel would remember you walking out with a man with blood red hair? It’s not like I can blend into a crowd.”
Russell thought about it for a moment. “Good point.”
They arrived at a small one-storey ranch house. It really was in the outskirts of the city. There wasn’t anything else beyond except for grass and one dirt road. He climbed out and caught the bag War tossed at him. He wandered off a little way while War paid the driver. He didn’t know how long he stood staring out over the vast land before War came to join him.
“Let’s go. “
He jumped when War grabbed his shoulder in a tight grip. Turning, he spied a beat-up Land Rover idling on the road.
“You don’t have to say anything to your friend?”
“No. He’s at work anyway. He’ll know I’m back when he sees the Rover’s gone.” War pointed at the vehicle. “Get in. We’ve got a good distance to travel before we get to my place.”
Russell glanced at him as he climbed in and buckled up. “I thought you lived in a tent.”
“At times, but I do have a very ramshackle hut in the middle of the land I usually roam with my herd.” War shrugged as he put the Rover in gear and headed out into the steppes.
Gripping the door handle tightly, Russell tried to keep from bouncing his head into the roof. The road smoothed farther out and he relaxed enough to look out of his window at the scenery. He smiled at the fact that it really didn’t look much different from the plains of Kansas.
“You live out here because it reminds you of your native home?” He shot a glance over at War.
“Sort of. My homeland has way more sand in it. I’m Bedouin and used to live in Saudi Arabia, or what is now known as Saudi Arabia.”
“What’s now known as? It wasn’t known as that when you lived there? How long ago did you leave?”
World history and geography weren’t Russell’s strong suit, so he had no real idea when Saudi Arabia had become a country in its own right.
“It’s been a while,” War hedged.
Rolling his eyes, Russell grunted. “Is this one of those things you don’t really want to talk to me about?”
War’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. Should Russell tell him it wasn’t important? War could keep his secrets and Russell wouldn’t hassle him about them any more. He didn’t want to be an annoying pest, considering he didn’t like talking about himself.
Yet he wanted to know why War and Lam were different from other people. Why did they call humans ‘mortals’ like War and Lam weren’t and hadn’t been for a long time?
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, but I’ve been told never to say anything to anyone about what I do and who I’ve become. My comrades and I help keep the world in balance. Maybe not in the best way, but because of us evil has less of a chance of winning the battle.”
“You mean you really are one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse? The others are Pestilence, Famine, and Death?” Russell racked his brain, trying to dig up all the information he remembered about the Horsemen.
“Yes.”
War’s terse confirmation startled Russell. He’d expected War to deny it or laugh it off. Hearing that the man he was travelling with happened to be one of the mythological Horsemen shook him to his core.
“I thought you were just myths. Religious crap to scare people into behaving.”

War laughed, and winced inside at the slightly brittle edge to it.
Try not to scare the man.
Death’s voice danced in his mind.
I’ll do my best, but how do you think he’s really going to react once the shock wears off? You might be surprised.
“Death is the Pale Rider, right?”
He nodded. “Yes, he is. Why?”
“I think I met him. When I was injured and lying on the ledge in Afghanistan, a palehaired man appeared to me and told me to hang on a little longer. Help was coming. He disappeared right before you showed up.”

You bastard.
Death’s chuckle rang through his head.
I have no idea what you’re talking about. Don’t lie. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why did you let him see you, but give me

shit about checking up on him?
“Are you mad?” Russell’s hesitant question drew War from his silent conversation with
Death.
“Not at you. I’m annoyed at a certain Horseman.”
Because it’s my job to make sure you’re not just thinking with your dick. There’s too much at
stake for you to risk it all over some one-off or quick fuck.
War snorted, but didn’t reply. As attracted as he was to Russell, sex had never been the
first thing on his mind. He’d always wanted to help Russell get beyond the guilt Russell felt.
Really? You want to help someone get beyond his guilt? Funny, coming from a man who let a
boy murder him because he felt guilty for killing the boy’s tribe.
Shut up. I’m not going to talk to you about this.
He could almost see Death shake his head in amazement at War’s avoidance of
discussing his past. Of course, War didn’t need to be reminded of his own guilt and how it
had trapped him in the life he was living right then.
“The Horsemen are real?”
“Yes. It served our purpose to make people think we were merely legends or a myth
told to keep mortals in line. Yet we do keep a balance between good and evil.” Russell’s expression said he didn’t believe War.
“I know the things we do seem to be more evil than good, but sometimes it does work.
When an epidemic breaks out and children die, sometimes a warlord’s heart will soften and
he stops the genocide. When war breaks out, eventually the blood spilt is too much, and the
two sides will find peace. Famine brings out the good in most people, and they’re willing to
share what food they have to help those starving, and Death comes for everyone.” “You had to say that, didn’t you?”
War chuckled. “Couldn’t help that. You see, if we weren’t around to shock people into
realising how bad things can get, evil could take over and what happens then? The world
comes apart at the seams, and the true battle between Heaven and Hell begins. The
Horsemen are a thin line between the world as you know it now, and the Apocalypse
everyone fears.”
“Were you born a Horseman or did you become one? How does that work?” Russell
scratched his jaw. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this. Next, you’re
going to tell me vampires and werewolves exist.”
“Not that I know of. No matter what any of the movies and books say.” War shot him a
grin.
Russell laughed. “Well, there’s a secret fantasy shot to hell.”
“You wanted to get it on with a vampire or werewolf?”
“Who wouldn’t? Haven’t you watched that TV show with the chick who has all the hot
paranormal guys after her?”
War shook his head. “I don’t own a TV. There’s not a lot of electricity out here.” “Okay, you have a point there.” Russell pursed his lips like he was thinking about
something. “You didn’t answer my question. How does someone become a Horseman?” “I’m not sure. I died; then the next thing I remember I woke up like this. Death telling
me I was War, the Red Horseman, and I needed to start wars to keep the peace.” War
frowned. “I’m still not sure it works that way, but I don’t argue with him.”
“What were you before you died?”
“I was the chief of a Bedouin tribe. I think I’d seen thirty-five seasons before I was
murdered.”
Russell inhaled and War realised he needed to watch what he said. He didn’t need to
spill all of his history into Russell’s lap. The man didn’t want to hear all of this shit. “Murdered? Who murdered you?”
War shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Old history and all that.”
The man sitting next to him didn’t say anything, but War could tell Russell didn’t
believe him. He thought about things he could get Russell to talk about. War wanted Russell
to talk about what had happened when his friend had died and Russell had shut down. “What happened that day?”
As tension filled the air, War realised how comfortable he’d felt sitting beside Russell
before he’d asked the question. They had the potential to be so much more than just friends
with benefits. War could help him deal with the aftermath of battle.
“I’ve talked about this with a bunch of doctors in the mental ward at the VA hospital.
They said I had a mental break down and my mind kept replaying the moments with Jimmy
and the medic.”
Out of the corner of his eye, War spied Russell’s hands starting to shake. Shit, he didn’t
want to drive him into another flashback with just some simple questions. Yet he had a
feeling Russell hadn’t really talked about how that day had scarred him.
“War can be rough and sometimes our minds aren’t strong enough to deal with all the
shit thrown at us.” He cringed inside at the drivel he was spouting.
He wouldn’t put it past Russell to slap him upside the head and tell him to keep his
mouth shut.
“The doctors and everyone else said the same thing to me. I appreciate knowing I
wasn’t mentally strong enough to handle being in battle. Makes me feel really good.” Russell
turned away from him.
“Fuck. I wasn’t saying you were weak or anything like that. Simply that your mind had
had enough. Do you think any of the men who came back from Vietnam or even the first
Iraqi war with post-traumatic stress disorder were weak?”
“No.”
“Then why do you think of yourself as weak for having the same issues? I know I
didn’t say it right, but it’s true. Sometimes our mind can’t take all the shit thrown at it,
especially during battle. Too much noise. Too many explosions. Too much blood.” He gritted his teeth, knowing blood was a trigger for Russell. Silence filled the Land
Rover for a while. Was Russell fighting his mind, so he didn’t return to the empty place he’d
been in before? He shot Russell a look, but Russell was staring out of the passenger window
and didn’t meet his eyes.
“I think that’s what did it for me. That was the straw to break the camel’s back, you
know. I could handle the noise and the explosions. The idea of killing someone bothered me,
but I never really got close enough to see them, so they could remain abstract for me.” War understood the concept. At times, he’d found himself wishing it happened that
way for him. Of course, there weren’t guns or bombs when he went into battle. When War
was mortal, it was hand-to-hand combat, where he looked into the eyes of the man he was
about to kill and watched the life drain from them. Most of the time, it hadn’t bothered him.
Just a way of life for him and his tribe, yet there were those few moments when something
about his enemy had connected with his mind and he would remember their faces. “Modern warfare makes killing the enemy easier in a way, because you never have to
see their faces if you don’t want to. I have to admit, when the nightmares of the people I
killed haunt me, I wish I lived in your time.” He paused and thought for a minute. “I’m not
saying war is easier for you. I’m simply saying I wish I didn’t have to look into my enemies’
eyes each time I killed one of them.”
Russell shrugged. “Everyone’s experience of battle is different, I guess. I’d never really
seen anyone killed around me. Sure, there’d been injuries and even some severe ones, but no
one had died in my presence. Then, one minute Jimmy and I were talking. Next thing I
know, he’s been hit. I didn’t know he was dead. When the medic showed up, there was still
hope. I heard the man yell for a medevac, so I thought Jimmy would get flown out and be
fine.”
Russell’s voice trembled and War reached over to entwine their fingers. He figured
Russell needed physical touch to ground him to the present. When nightmares drove him
from his bed, War groomed his horses to ease the pain. Being around them and their uncomplicated expectations helped stop the downward spiral into depression and self
loathing.
He waited for Russell to continue. When he didn’t, War looked over at him and noticed
Russell was staring out of the window again, lost inside his own thoughts. Yet his expression
didn’t worry War, or make him think Russell was having another flashback. War decided to
let Russell break the silence when he was ready. He wouldn’t force him to talk. Thirty minutes later, when Russell showed no signs of saying a word, War took his eyes
off the trail and glanced at him. Russell’s head rested on the window and he appeared to be
sound asleep. War winced as the tyres hit a rut and Russell’s forehead bounced against the
glass.
“That might leave a mark,” he muttered.
It was a good thing they didn’t have much farther to go. He slowed down slightly, since
there wasn’t any point in hurrying and giving Russell a concussion. Russell had enough
problems with his brain already.
As he drove, any left-over tension and exhaustion drained away from War. He rolled
down his window and allowed the warm dry wind to blow over his face. He breathed in and
realised what Russell meant about the smell of grass. He breathed deep, and, when the fresh
scents of dirt and grass filled his lungs, War knew he was home.
Everything settled deep inside him. As far as he was concerned, at this moment,
nothing existed outside him and Russell in the vehicle. There was no other country besides
Mongolia. No wars or battles going on anywhere else. Suddenly the steppes were an island
of grass, keeping them isolated from the rest of the world. It was the best thing for both of
them.
Russell needed to learn how to live again without thinking of the men who had died
around him. He had to discover it was all right to laugh and love without feeling guilty
because he had lived and they had died.
At what point are you going to follow your own advice?
He studiously ignored Death’s comment, choosing to focus on Russell’s problems, not
his own.
An hour later, he pulled to a stop in front of his small hut and turned to look at Russell.
The man leant against the door, his entire body relaxed and his expression rather innocent. He hated waking him up, but if he left him in the truck Russell wouldn’t be able to move his
neck later.
“Hey, Russell, it’s time to wake up.”
The younger man muttered something, but didn’t open his eyes. War reached out to
shake Russell’s shoulder.
“Honey, you need to wake up. We’re home.”
The moment his hand landed on Russell, he shot straight up and shouted, “Don’t touch
me.”
War held up his hands. “Okay. Don’t worry. It’s just me, Russell. You’re okay.” Russell glanced wildly around for a second until he focused on War and his shoulders
slumped. He scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No worries, love.” War undid his seat belt and climbed out of the Land Rover. He
went around to the passenger side and opened Russell’s door. “Can I show you my place?” Russell got out and stretched. War tried not to ogle Russell as his T-shirt rode up and a
patch of pale skin appeared. He clenched his hand to keep from touching Russell there.
Starting something out in the open wasn’t a good idea. Of course, it wasn’t like anyone
would see them if they did it.
“I’ll be honest, War. It doesn’t look like much.” Russell tossed him a grin as he grabbed
his bag from the back and headed towards the door.
“What? Did you think I’d have built a two-storey mansion out in the middle of
nowhere?” War shook his head, but he smiled, not taking offence at Russell’s comment. “It
fits me. I’m not used to anything fancy or big. This is close to the tent I used to live in.” He watched as Russell paused at the door and turned to look back at him. War gestured
for Russell to go in. He never locked his doors or windows. Nothing he owned mattered to
him. Anything important was hidden or he held their memories in his mind and didn’t need
the physical objects.
“Trusting, aren’t you?” Russell raised an eyebrow at him.
He swung his arms out, wide and encompassing. “Who do you think would come and
steal anything? If I have to leave, I make sure there’s food in the cupboards and wood in the firebox. I’m willing to let anyone who needs shelter use my hut as they pass by. As long as
they don’t burn the place down or destroy it in some way, I don’t care.”
Russell didn’t say anything else before shoving open the door and going in. War
strolled around the yard and moved back towards the sheds and paddocks he used to house
his horses during storms.
A shrill neigh shattered the air and he grinned. His friends had somehow known he’d
be back today. They’d returned his herd to him. Unused to being penned in for long, the
small brown horses milled around. Slipping under the rails of the fence, War mingled with
the horses, murmuring and stroking them. He wanted them to relearn his voice so, when he
took them out again, they would obey him.
War lost track of time as he wandered among the horses. Finally, when one of the
horses closest to the fence tossed up its head and snorted, he turned to see Russell resting his
elbows on the top rail. Without really thinking, he smiled and walked through the herd to
slip his hands into Russell’s hair.
He brought their lips together in a soft kiss. There wasn’t any rush to do more at the
moment. Russell kept his hands on the railing, but he did participate in the kiss. They played
and teased until War’s cock ached and he longed to bend Russell over and ride him. “Maybe we should move this into the house,” Russell whispered against his lips. War nodded. “Let’s go.”
It was time for them to move beyond kisses. He climbed out of the pen, placed his hand
at the small of Russell’s back and they walked back to War’s home. Stepping inside, War shot
a quick glance around to make sure everything looked fine.
“Nothing seems disturbed,” Russell commented and continued to head towards the
curtained corner of the single room.
“Of course, since I don’t own much, you wouldn’t really know if anything had been
taken or not.” He chuckled.
Russell didn’t say anything, just nodded as he reached up to unbutton his shirt. War
licked his lips as Russell slowly stripped, revealing lean muscles and lightly golden skin. “Am I the only one getting naked here?”
War hurriedly tore off his clothes, letting them fall wherever they landed. Soon they
stood, staring at each other. War’s cock stiffened as Russell studied it. He hoped the man liked what he saw. War knew his own body carried scars of the life he’d lived before he’d
become the Red Horseman.
Crooking a finger at him, Russell encouraged him to come closer. He stalked Russell,
but something told him the man wasn’t going to run. Russell took one step back and swept