Eternal Rider (20 page)

Luc, a warg paramedic at UGH, and his mate, Kar, had delivered their baby girl just last week. “I’m guessing you’re not doing up the nursery in neutral pastels?” Gem was a Goth chick, half-Soulshredder, a species of demon that made other demons piss themselves, and as far as Arik could tell, there was nothing soft about her.

“Hell, no. Gem’s all about the primary colors. The
baby’s room looks like someone regurgitated a box of crayons.”

Arik laughed, and then sobered. “Okay, so I don’t think you called me here to talk about babies.”

Ky’s expression got four-star-general serious. “No.” He pushed the laptop at Arik. “Can you speak Silan?”

“As in, the language of Silas demons?”

“Yes. We intercepted some chatter, but we can’t understand it, and we can’t find anyone who speaks this particular dialect. Not even my in-laws.”

“Why do you think talk between a bunch of demon mercs is important?”

“Because they were recruited by one of Pestilence’s men, a former Aegi we’ve been watching since we kicked him out a few months ago.” Kynan’s gaze met Arik’s. “This has to stay between you, me, and Regan. Not even the other Elders know.”

“Why?”

“Because the former Aegi traitor is Valeriu’s son, David.”

Arik whistled, loud and long. “Val? An Elder’s own son is teaming up with demons?” Arik supposed he shouldn’t be surprised—David had betrayed The Aegis before. But working with Pestilence to bring about the Apocalypse… that went beyond
betrayal
.

“Yeah. Nice, huh?” Kynan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “We don’t want to take him into custody yet. Right now, he’s doing more good for us than he knows. Val’s been trying to mend the relationship with him, and if he knows what David has been doing…” Kynan shook his head. “I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Why is he free in the first place? I thought he was a prisoner.”

“Val convinced us to release him into his custody.”

“Well, shit.” Arik attempted to calculate the kind of damage David could do, but the mental math left him exhausted. “So what’s up with the computer?”

“Hit Shift-P.”

Arik did, and voices drifted out of the speaker. It was all gibberish at first, but Arik had an uncanny ability to listen to any demon language, and after only a few words, learn it. Cool, sure, but it had come via a disease he’d contracted from a demon, and sometimes he wondered if any other, less useful abilities were going to rear up.

The R-XR ran a monthly battery of tests on him, and so far there had been no alterations in his DNA, no changes in his appearance, no demonic signs of any kind at all.

“There are three of them. They’re talking about eating… ah, man, demons are
nasty
.” Arik leaned in, listening carefully. “Okay, so… they’re supposed to be on the lookout for a human woman. Pestilence wants her dead. They think she’s probably with War. Now they’re going off about something… some great lord wants his bride.” Arik separated the blah from the blah, wondered if there was a soda machine close by…“Oh, got it. Looks like Satan wants to settle down and have some unholy little spawns. How sweet. Lucky woman, whoever she is.”

The recording got scratchy and ended.

Kynan braced his elbows on the table, his expression contemplative. “I couldn’t care less about Satan’s love life, but the human? We have to find out who she is and why Pestilence wants her dead. Anyone he wants dead could be our new best friend.”

“This is needle-in-haystack shit. And the haystack is made of needles. On a needle planet.”

“Which is why we need to find a way to neutralize the Horsemen, and I think I’ve found it.” Ky opened one of the tattered tomes to a page he’d bookmarked. “Seems that in 1108, a group of Aegi were battling a hellhound, and losing. Two of the Horsemen—doesn’t specify which—dropped by to help. Apparently, one of them yelled to the other, something about avoiding a bite. The surviving Guardian noted it because he found it odd that a Horseman would fear anything.”

Arik leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. “So you’re saying these big bad immortal Horsemen are crybabies when it comes to dog bites?”

“That’s the thing… it’s not the bite itself.” Kynan tapped the page. “See, two hundred years later, a Guardian searching for a weapon against the Horsemen found the account of the battle and theorized about the potency of hellhound saliva. Then, in 1317, the Great Famine was at its worst, people in Europe were starving, eating their work animals, abandoning their children, engaging in cannibalism. Everyone thought the end of the world was upon them, and the third Horseman of the Apocalypse, Famine, was blamed.”

“Naturally.” Didn’t matter if it was hundreds of years ago or just last week, humans were always blaming someone, whether it was a Horseman, the devil, or God, for natural and man-made disasters.

“The Aegis performed a ceremony to call Famine,” Kynan continued. “When she arrived, they nailed her with an arrow coated in hellhound saliva, and it totally incapacitated her.”

Arik developed a severe case of the uh-ohs. “What did they do with her?”

Kynan winced. “Let’s just say that things were bad between The Aegis and them already, and after that? It’s a wonder the Horsemen haven’t wiped out every one of us.” Ky’s voice grew troubled. “One of the passages also indicates that they took something from her, but it’s not clear what.”

“Okay, so hellhound spit is our magic weapon against them? Don’t suppose The Aegis has a kennel full of them.”

Kynan cocked a dark eyebrow. “Hardly. But about thirty seconds before you got here, an Aegis cell in York, England, procured one.”

Arik sucked in a sharp breath. “No shit? How?”

“People in a suburban neighborhood complained of howling, and police entered, found a strange black dog in a cage in the basement. The containment symbols on the cage and floor freaked them out, and when they made calls about it, The Aegis got wind, and we went in and got the hellhound pup.”

“You said it’s a puppy?”

“Yeah. Stroke of luck. I don’t know how we’d have pulled off the transport of a full-grown one.”

Abruptly, a sparkly flash of light appeared behind Kynan. Arik instinctively leaped to his feet and reached for his sidearm, but when Kynan merely sighed, Arik relaxed.

A little.

“Reaver, do you not know how to knock?”

“Angels don’t knock.”

“Do angels explain why they haven’t been available for six months?” Kynan asked. “I’ve been trying to summon you.”

Reaver shrugged. “Shit happens.” He cast a glance
at Arik. “Heard you signed on with The Aegis. Good move—they can use you.”

Arik didn’t bother to ask how the angel knew he’d joined. Even if he’d wanted to ask, he couldn’t. He was standing in a room with a freaking angel and utterly speechless.

“Have the Horsemen agreed to meet with us?” Kynan asked, and Reaver nodded.

“They’ll see up to three Aegi, but I only want you two.”

Arik finally found his voice. “Why me? There are more senior members of The Aegis, and I’m not
really
a Guardian.”

“You’re sworn in,” Reaver replied. “And you’re a member of the R-XR. The military needs to be kept up on everything. And the fact that your sister is a werewolf and your in-laws are demons might help convince them that you’re not a fanatical Aegi who is out to kill them.”

“Is that why you want me, too?” Kynan asked.

Reaver’s sapphire eyes darkened. “I want you because you’re charmed. If the Horsemen decide that killing Aegi instead of working with them is preferable, you should survive.”

The hot shower—in the white marble bathroom with six shower heads and heated benches—did not help Cara feel normal at all. The reality of her situation had sunk in, but now she wasn’t sure how she fit into this new actuality that was full of demons, legends, and gates of light that could take you anywhere in an instant.

Then there was the… whatever it was… happening between her and Ares. She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her back. He definitely couldn’t hide his attraction to her, not when she’d felt it jabbing into her belly when he held her pinned to the wall.

So yes, there was something physical making the air between them crackle. But at times it seemed like there was more. He could be hard, a total jerk, but he’d also feather a soft touch over her skin, or allow her to cling to him when she was scared out of her wits. And the fact remained that he had saved her life and given her safe har
bor. Granted, keeping her safe was in his best interests. But he could make her captivity so much more miserable.

Then there had been that fun little announcement about how violence excited him. Some twisted part of her had continued to push him, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because if he was right, her lifespan had an expiration date that was coming up soon, and she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Though she’d never been religious, she’d prayed for a full return of the strength she’d had before the home invasion. She’d spent two years hoping to be rid of the constant paranoia, the jumpiness, the terror that would reach up and grab her by the throat every time she heard a strange sound or someone knocked on her door.

Be careful what you wish for
. Because, yeah, she’d finally tapped into her inner well of strength, but only because she’d been attacked, kidnapped, branded, and hunted. She wasn’t sure the tradeoff was acceptable.

No, she was sure. It wasn’t.

Dripping wet and with only a towel around her, she padded into the bedroom, and it dawned on her that the only thing she had to wear was pajama bottoms.
That’s what you get for not planning a kidnapping better
.

Having no choice, she pawed through Ares’s dresser until she found a shirt to sleep in. Because as much as she hated to admit it, he was right; she needed to find Hal. Now that her life was tied to his, it was more important than ever that she locate him and get him to safety. Still, the idea that her role in helping was to sleep pissed her off, to be frank.

She’d been sleeping for two years, doing just enough to survive, and she was sick of it. She wanted to be the
person she’d been before the breakin, someone who made goals and then went after them. It was why she’d moved to South Carolina and started a holistic veterinary practice. She might have been hiding her ability, but that hadn’t meant she couldn’t use it as part of nature-based healing.

Frustrated, she jerked the white and red shirt over her head. The hem caught her midthigh, and the sleeves came past her elbows. Frowning, she tugged the front out to read it. Detroit Red Wings. Figured Ares was a hockey fan. A nice, violent game.

Violence excites me
.

His words drew a shudder from her even as a forbidden thrill wove its way through her veins. She’d been a pacifist from birth, raised to believe that the pen was mightier than the sword, that physical force was a last resort and even then, there should be rules and fairness and minimal bloodshed. Her father had believed that war was
never
acceptable.

“
Better to die yourself than dirty your soul by killing another
,” he used to say, and she wondered how he’d feel about the intruder she’d… yeah. She wondered.

“
Violence is for those who don’t have the intelligence to find another way
.” Another of his favorite sayings, and one that made her smile, because her dad had never met Ares. The Horseman was far from stupid. Arrogant, brash, and oozing authority, maybe, but not stupid.

Absently, she reached up and ran her finger over the mark that had throbbed when he touched her, which was even now tingling. The tingling was different though, was more… urgent. It burned. What the…? She peered down the inside of the neckline. The mark was even brighter than before, its raised lines pulsing angrily.

So… this couldn’t be good. No, definitely not good, she thought, as a familiar odor drifted to her nose. It smelled like her veterinary office the morning she’d found it torn up.

It smelled like Hal.

A muffled growl from behind her brought every hair on her to attention. Icy terror made her clumsy as she slowly turned in an unsteady circle.

And came face to face with a rhino-sized hellhound.