Eternal Rider

Sixteen

After Kynan and Arik left, Cara took a seat at the table, and one of the vampires—holy crap, vampires!—brought her a ham sandwich and hot tea. Free of orc-weed, he assured, when she asked. She still had the leather-bound book Ares had given her before they left his place, A Guided Tour of Sheoul, which, though apparently written by a reasonably articulate, intelligent demon, was seriously creepy. But she was learning a lot, even if, so far, she hadn’t found anything that might help her understand hellhounds or the agimortus.

As she nibbled at the sandwich, she listened to Ares and his siblings argue about The Aegis, hellhounds, daggers, Pestilence, fallen angels… they were all over the place, like marbles on glass. And even though Cara was in the middle of it all, she felt like a serious outsider.

“You guys can feel free to ask my opinion,” she called out.

Ares strode over and pushed the uneaten portion of the sandwich closer to her. “We haven’t had to include anyone else in any decisions in a long time.” It wasn’t much of an apology, but from Ares, it was a lot.

She glanced at his brother and sister, who were pretending—badly—to not listen. “Look,” she said, lowering her voice, “I’m sorry for earlier. You’ve been trying to protect me, and I insulted you.”

Flickering light from the fire played on Ares’s face, throwing shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, and the flames danced in the black of his eyes. “You despise violence and those capable of it, don’t you?”

Cara sipped her tea to buy time. How could she explain that what she despised was what she was capable of. “Yes,” she said simply, because nothing else would come.

His hand dropped to his scabbard, his long fingers stroking his sword’s pommel like a lover, and the agimortus, which had been tingling already, kicked up a notch. “You despise me.”

“Not you.” She liked him too much. Even now, her skin was tightening as if his fingers were caressing her instead of the sword. “I despise killing.”

The sound of grinding molars joined the crackle of the fire, and then he drilled her with a stare so fierce she recoiled. “Tell me about the person you killed. Was it an accident?”

Whoa. He was as subtle as tank. “Y-syes.”

“Self-defense?”

Her heart skittered in an erratic rhythm. “Yes.”

“Then stop punishing yourself and everyone else who does what they have to do.”

So easy for him to say. He’d had thousands of years to stop punishing himself. If he ever had. “How many people have you killed?”

“Tens of thousands. And not all in self-defense.” His eyes held her captive, when she would have stumbled backward. “Yeah, you’re shocked. I’m a warrior, Cara. So go ahead and look at me with contempt, but you’ll thank God that I’m there when the werewolf is at the door. Because I’ll kill it, and I’ll never regret it. You can sit back and be appalled, but at least you’ll be alive, your hands will be free of blood, and it’ll be because of me.”

He wheeled away, but she snagged his armored elbow. The leather was surprisingly soft, and she wondered how it was supposed to protect him. “Wait.”

His entire body went taut. “I live to serve,” he said sarcastically, and God, that was it, wasn’t it? No one had ever treated him as anything but a warrior, so how was he supposed to see himself as anything different?

“You’re right,” she admitted. “And I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I don’t mean to judge you, but I see more in you than a killing machine.”

“How nice for you,” he said. “But you’re wrong. I can’t afford to be anything else.”

Her heart bled for him, that he believed that about himself. “Yes, you can.”

He laughed, as if what she’d said was beyond ludicrous. “Are you going to give me life lessons? What the fuck does a human with the lifespan of a gnat know about a five-thousand year-old demon?”

“What is your problem?” She shot him an irritated glare. “Why do you have such contempt for humans?”

“They die.” He bit out the words viciously. “You love them, and then they die. That’s what’s going to happen to you, Cara. You’re going to die, and then I’m going to—” He snapped his mouth shut so hard she heard the crack of teeth.

“You’re going to what?” The question tangled on her tongue, because she wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear.

His gaze skipped away. “I’m going to go evil.”

His answer chafed, for some reason. Had she wanted him to say he’d be sad? Ridiculous. But… okay, yes, she did. She wanted someone to be sad she was dead. The mark on her chest buzzed as her anger sparked. Ares spun around again, but oh, hell, no. She wasn’t finished with him yet.

Impulsively, she shoved him. Hard. Right into the wall. “You do not get to walk away from me like that. Not again. This is my life we’re talking about. I’m not a delicate little flower, nor am I a child. I’m a woman with no family and stuck in a strange world, so even if you have to pretend to care whether I live or die, that’s what I want. And if I want to have sex, it’s not your place to tell me I can’t handle it. And—”

“Cara.”

“—How dare you discount my experience—”

“Cara.”

“What?”

Ares just stared at her in the silence. Slowly, she turned her head, heat blooming in her cheeks at the sight of Limos and Than watching her, both wide-eyed.

“Cara?”

Groaning, she turned back to Ares, her tirade coming back to her in crystal clarity. His eyes gestured to the floor. She looked. Ares’s feet weren’t on the ground. With a gasp, she looked up, and holy shit… she was holding him against the wall and off the floor. Releasing him, she leaped backward, and he dropped to his feet.

“I guess the agimortus does make you stronger.” His words were spoken with a certain grim approval.

“I don’t understand. You said it was killing me.”

“It is. But you’re drawing on Hal in the meantime.” There was a brittle silence. “And me.”

She frowned. “You?”

There was a resigned note in his voice that she didn’t understand. “When I’m close to you, it drains me. It’s why my armor goes soft. And why I can’t sense jack shit when you’re around.” He closed the distance between them, his hands coming down on her shoulders. “And why I feel things I shouldn’t.”

She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Like?”

“Like guilt for putting you in this position. Like wanting to keep you safe for more reasons than just because I’ll go evil if I don’t. Like lust that makes me want to throw you down and take you until we’re both too tired to move. And like I’m a fucking idiot for feeling all of that.”

Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. And Limos and Thanatos were still staring. Fortunately, a blond man materialized in the room and rescued them all from a whole lot of awkwardness. Cara thought she must be getting used to the weirdness, because she barely even blinked. Nope, she was just thankful for his timing.

Limos squealed in delight and threw herself into his arms. The man’s grin lit up the entire room. And was he… glowing?

“Who is he?”

“Reaver.” Ares raised his hand in greeting. “He’s an angel.”

“Fallen?”

“Nope. A real live Heavenly angel.”

Well, there was something you didn’t see every day. She wasn’t sure what she expected an angel to look like, but she’d always pictured them wearing white. Not Reaver. He looked as if he’d stepped out of a modeling shoot for GQ. His black slacks and gray shirt couldn’t fit better over broad shoulders that tapered to a slim waist and long legs, and he sported a gold watch that even from here looked as if it cost more money than she’d made in her entire life.

Limos beamed up at Reaver, who returned the expression of affection. “Does Limos always greet him like that?” Cara asked.

“Yes,” Ares grunted. “He indulges her, for some reason.”

“Ares.” Reaver separated himself from Limos. “I stopped by your place. Saw Pestilence’s handiwork. I was concerned.”

“Aw, Reavie-weavie is worried about us,” Limos chirped, and the angel rolled his sapphire eyes.

“I took what was left of the Guardian’s body to The Aegis,” Reaver said, and Cara was suddenly very glad Ares and Limos had kept her from witnessing the scene in Ares’s backyard. “Did you accomplish anything in your meeting with Kynan and Arik?”

Limos, looking proud of herself, bobbed her head excitedly. “I broke Arik’s ribs.”

Reaver exhaled on a deep sigh. “Anything else?”

“They’re going to research the dagger and Limos’s bowl,” Thanatos said. “And they’re going to arrange for the release of the hellhound…” He drifted off, his stare going blank.

“Than?” Limos grabbed his wrist. “Than! What is it?”

Thanatos swayed, and his eyes sparked with an unholy fire. “Death. So… much… death.” He reached out as if trying to grab hold of something.

A gate opened, and then he was gone. Just… gone. As if he’d been sucked into the light against his will.

Alarmed, Cara stepped back. “What just happened?”

Ares’s next breath came out on a hiss. “Thanatos is drawn to large-scale death—if it’s big or sudden enough, he’s taken against his will.”

“A battle?” Limos’s armor snapped into place, Transformers-style. When Ares remained silent, Limos whacked her forehead with her palm. “Right. Insensitive much? You can’t sense anything with Cara around. I’ll track him down.” She opened a gate and was gone.

“How can she track him?” Cara asked.

“We can land our gate in the last place our brother or sister’s gate opened. And no, we can no longer track Pestilence.” He gestured for Cara to return to her seat. “I need to call Vulgrim.” He fished his cell phone from his pocket as Reaver sank down at the table across from her.

“So. How are you doing?”

“Um… fine?”

“You don’t seem surprised to be talking to an angel.”

“I’m sitting in a room with the second Horseman of the Apocalypse.” She’d made out with the second Horseman of the Apocalypse.

“Good point.” His shrewd gaze flickered over her, and she got the feeling he was looking right inside her. “How much of your situation have they explained to you?”

“You mean, that my death will bring about the end of the world, and I probably only have a few days to live if we don’t find a fallen angel?”

Reaver dragged his hand through his hair. “Yeah. That. Do you know that even if you’re able to transfer the agimortus to a fallen angel, you’re still bonded to a hellhound? Which means you’re stuck in our world? You can’t exactly go back to living with humans when your dog is the size of a hippo and is capable of eating your neighbors.”

“He doesn’t have to live with me, does he?”

“No, but you can’t predict when he’ll pop in to see you. The bond is powerful. He won’t want to be far from you.”

Okay, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. There was no point, not when she barely knew what was going to happen in the next hour, let alone the next week or next month. Reaver reached out and absently toyed with one of the pieces on the chessboard.

“Ares will take care of you. But keep in mind that he is a Horseman. If his Seal breaks, he will be the very definition of evil. And even now, he has an inborn need to win any challenge, no matter how minor, and no matter what the cost.”

She’d noticed his competitive nature, for sure. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that he doesn’t have a sense of fair play.” Reaver flicked his fingers and leveled all the chess pieces. “He follows no rules, because to him, the end result is what matters—not how you get there.”

A tremor of unease went through her. “And you’re telling me this, why?”

“Because you need to be prepared to do the same. If you want to survive, you may need to make sacrifices and do things you never thought you’d do. Things that go against everything you’ve ever believed.” His tone was dark, ominous, all the more frightening because it came from a being she had always associated with a soft… goodness. As if he knew what she was thinking, he took her hand. “Angels are warriors, and some of us, like me, are what you might think of as Special Ops. We play on the side of good, but make no mistake—we are soldiers, and we’ll do what we have to in order to win.”

“You… kill?”

“There is very little we won’t do in the fight against evil.”

She swallowed. “So you have no rules either?”

Reaver’s sudden laughter had a deep, uplifting bell-tone quality to it. “We have rules. Oh, we have lots of rules.”

Ares approached, and Reaver shot her a wink as he stood. “Kynan texted the coordinates to the hellhound. We can go as soon as I hear from Li or Than.”

“I’m being summoned anyway,” Reaver said. “I’ll be in touch.” He punched Ares in the shoulder, and in the next instant, was gone.

Cara blinked, feeling a little loopy, as though she’d just gotten off a carnival ride. “I have to say… he’s not what I expected of an angel.”

Ares laughed. She loved it when he did that. “What did you expect?”

“That maybe they’d be a little more… rigid. Or righteous.”

Ares snorted. “He’s not like other angels. They all have superiority complexes and sticks up their holy asses. Reaver’s different. Probably because he spent some time as a fallen angel.”

“Really? He fell? And he was able to go back?”

“An angel can fall, but if he doesn’t enter Sheoul, he can be redeemed. But once a fallen angel enters Sheoul, he becomes irreversibly evil. Reaver earned his way back into Heaven by helping save the world not long ago.”

Not long ago? She wasn’t even going to ask.

One of those gate things opened up behind him, and a massive black horse leaped out—but it was like no horse Cara had ever seen. Its eyes glowed red, its teeth were more like fangs, and its hooves scorched the floor. Limos, her armor splashed with blood, was in the saddle, expertly guiding the stallion with her knees. Gone was the ultrafeminine beach-girl, and suddenly, Cara saw the warrior she was.

“Get Cara out of here,” she yelled. “Than’s coming.”

Ares took Cara’s hand in his and tugged her against his hard body. “What happened?”

“Reseph. Fucking asshole started a plague in Slovenia that’s mowing people down by the thousands, almost instantaneously.” Her stallion danced beneath her, as agitated as its master. “Something else is going on in that area. I can sense need and desperation, but I can’t pinpoint it.”

“I’ve felt something similar,” Ares said gravely, and Cara wondered if that was why he’d been wound so tight. Then again, he seemed like the type that was always a bowstring waiting to be released. “Was Pestilence there?”

“And Harvester. She was feeding on the dying.” Limos’s eyes flashed like hot amethysts. “Reseph was—” Her gaze flickered to Cara. “It was bad.”

Cara looked between the two. “Who is Harvester?”

“Our other Watcher. Reaver’s evil counterpart.” Limos made a sound of disgust. “She’s a major bitch.”

Another gate opened, and Thanatos, on his dun horse, stormed through. Jesus, he looked like something out of a horror movie… teeth bared, nostrils flaring, veins bulging in his throat and temple. The shadows that sometimes surrounded him had taken form, were circling, mouths gaping. One broke from the pack and shot toward her with an earsplitting screech.

Ares threw out his hand, opened a gate, and dragged her through it. She now understood why Thanatos was Death.

He’d had murder in his eyes.

The place Ares instinctively fled to when he needed a quick escape was his island. Specifically, the cliff where he’d taken Cara the first time he’d grabbed her.

“What was that all about?” Cara took a step back from the cliff, her eyes wild as she looked down at the rocks below.

Ares moved closer to the edge, putting his body between it and Cara. “When Thanatos is exposed to mass-casualty, he… changes.”

“Like how violence excites you?” She inhaled harshly. “Sorry.”

Shit. Not a comfortable conversation. “Yeah. Like that. He needs to kill.”

“What are those shadows?”

Ares looked out over the water, focusing on a fishing boat. That was the difference between him and Cara: He got up in danger’s grille but looked beyond. She backed away from danger but kept her eyes on it. “They’re souls.”

“As in… souls?”

“His armor collects them. Every time he kills a demon, human, or animal, the soul is sucked into his armor.”

Her horror penetrated his own softened armor. “Oh, my God. They’re trapped with him?”

“For a time. When he gets angry or goes into battle, or if he calls them out, they have a shot at freedom, but only if they kill something.”

“Does the victim’s soul replace the shadow after it earns its freedom?”

“No.”

“Can he get different armor?”

Ares shook his head. “None of us can. It’s part of us, like our horses and our curses.”

“What’s Limos’s curse?”

Ares turned to Cara, his breath catching at the sight of her standing there in the breeze, her lips rosy, her silky hair blowing around her shoulders. It was hard to believe she’d lifted his heavy ass off the ground, especially given the dark crescents under her eyes. She looked exhausted, and at the same time, so very alive that he had to remind himself she was dying, no matter how strong she appeared to be.

They die. You love them, and then they die. That’s what’s going to happen to you, Cara. You’re going to die, and then I’m going to— God, he couldn’t believe he’d lost it like that. He never exposed himself, but Cara had dismantled his defenses, and he wondered how much of it was due to his proximity to the agimortus, and how much of it was just… her.

He had to clear his throat to continue. “Limos becomes a danger to herself. When she’s drawn to famine of any kind—a lack of food, medicines, water—she falls into a deep depression and becomes self-destructive.” It had always taken Reseph to get her out of it.

“And Reseph?”

“He was drawn to disease, plague. He would… become that disease. In order to rid himself of it, he had to kill someone with it. If he didn’t, he’d spread the disease wherever he went. Now that he’s Pestilence, he can cause whatever disease he wants, more potent and faster-spreading than its natural counterpart.” His cell buzzed, and he checked it, cursed at the note from Kynan.

Where are you? You’d think Horsemen would be a little more prompt.

Hard to believe, but Aegi had actually gotten more annoying over the centuries.

Smiling tightly, he took Cara’s hand. “You ready to do this?”

“Yep.” Cara’s big eyes took him in… she looked like that damned Puss-in-Boots cat in Shrek, all cute and heart-melting. The way she’d looked when she’d told him that she saw more in him than a killing machine. But how could she? No one had seen him as more than that. Even Ares’s sons had looked up to him as a great warrior they wanted to be like when they grew up.

He made a disgusted noise. As much as he really wanted to take her in his arms, he couldn’t. They were at war, and she still needed a lot of toughening up if she was to survive. You’re one to talk. You’re softening as much as your armor when she’s around.

“Ares,” Cara said, just as he opened his mouth to summon Battle. “Who did you lose?”

“What?”

“You said humans die.” She squeezed his hand, might as well have squeezed his breath out of his lungs. “Who died?”

Damn her. He didn’t want to answer, but words spilled out of his mouth. “My wife. My brother. My two sons.” When those Puss-in-Boots eyes went liquid, he ended it, right then and there. “Don’t you pity me. Don’t you dare.”

Her chin came up. “Don’t you tell me how to feel.”

Okay, so he wanted her to toughen up, but her bravery might just veer into foolhardy territory with the wrong person. “You know I could crush you.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Why, because I need to protect you?”

“No.” She poked him in the breastplate. “Because you gave me a pillow.”

He blinked. This female’s logic was whacked, as Reseph would have said. “You’re gambling your life on a pillow?”

“I don’t doubt that you’ll do what you have to do to save the world. You’ll make hard choices. But you don’t grab a pillow for someone you would have no problem killing.” She snagged his wrist and flicked her finger over the lines that defined Battle’s flank, and Ares sucked air at the sensation of his hips and ass being caressed. “You going to let him out or not?”

On his arm, Battle kicked, as if hearing her. Shit. “Battle, out.”

Battle appeared, and wouldn’t you know, instead of nudging Ares in greeting, he nuzzled Cara. “Hey, buddy,” she purred, and the stallion rubbed against her even more. Stupid horse.

“Come on,” Ares growled. “Cara, I’ll help you up—”

Battle kneeled. He fucking kneeled. Cara shot Ares a taunting grin and climbed into the saddle. Battle went back up on his hooves, and as Cara scooted forward, Ares swore Battle smiled, too.

Muttering obscenities, Ares swung up onto the horse, wrapped one arm around Cara’s waist, and opened a Harrowgate. “I’m going to materialize a few blocks from the coordinates.” He inhaled, took in her clean, floral scent, and instantly, his body reacted in a way that only happened when he was heading into a conflict. His heart pounded, his adrenaline surged, and damn, he wanted to throw down with her. If I want to have sex, it’s not your place to tell me I can’t handle it. He stifled a miserable groan. “I don’t want to leap into a trap. I also want Battle available if there’s trouble.”

Especially since being this close to Cara meant that his armor and weapons would be all but useless. Sort of like his brain.

“Trouble?”

She was trouble. “I don’t trust Aegi. And I wouldn’t be surprised to find Pestilence lurking.”

“You have a real fun family, you know that? I thought mine was odd.”

Battle started toward the gate, but Ares tugged on the reins. She’d said she was alone, with no one to care if she lived or died. Why had he not asked about family before? Maybe because he was a callous bastard who’d forgotten what it was like to be human.

“I thought you said you had no family.”

“My mom died of cancer when I was young, and my dad passed away a couple of years ago.” Cara twisted around so she could see him, her eyes taking on the color of the water around his island, and he wanted to dive in. “I have an older stepsister from my dad’s second marriage, but we fought a lot, and I haven’t seen her or my stepmom since the funeral.”

“And you said you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“If I had, you wouldn’t have touched me in the shower.”

Inexplicably pleased by that, he urged Battle into the Harrowgate. The stallion stepped out into a foggy evening that came straight out of The Hound of the Baskervilles. Fitting, seeing how they were fetching a hellhound. Car lights sped toward them, and Cara yelped.

“They’re going to hit us!”

“We’re on another plane. We’re not only invisible to humans, but we’re formless.”

“I thought you made it so people froze.”

“I can do that, too. Or I can enter the world and exist just as humans do.”

“But then they can see you.”

“Yes, but I told you my presence makes people want to fight.”

“And I told you that I can completely understand that,” she said, and he had to smile. He smiled even wider when she leaned into him. Even through his armor he could feel her heat. He wanted to feel more of her. Less of her. Dammit, he didn’t know what he wanted, and he’d never been indecisive.

Losing the teenage-crush grin, he spurred Battle into a canter, and they rode to a country estate that wasn’t visible from the road. The property was fenced by a low stone wall, and Ares would bet his left nut that the perimeter was warded against evil or supernatural creatures. No ward affected him, but certain ones could propel him out of the khote.

Not that he was worried about it. His concern was about traps. He wouldn’t put it past The Aegis to want to contain both him and Cara in the name of “keeping them safe.” The Aegis always did have an overblown sense of its power and abilities, thinking only they were capable of making the big decisions. Those egotistical bastards would suck their own dicks if they could.

Ares guided Battle around the perimeter, and though he located concealed stones etched with protective, magical symbols, he found no evidence of a trap. With a command, he released the khote.

“I felt that,” Cara murmured. “We’re visible now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. No doubt we’re being watched.” As they approached the wrought iron gate, it creaked open. “Definitely watched.”

An eerie howl drifted through the mist, and Cara sat forward in the saddle, which shifted her ass firmly against his groin, and he bit down on his tongue. Holy Heaven, he burned for her.

“It’s Hal.”

The reminder that they were going to rescue a hellhound she was bonded to turned his inner fire down a notch.

Ahead, a vine-choked manor materialized out of the fog. Outbuildings dotted the grassy field behind it, and in front, standing at attention, were a dozen or so humans, including Kynan. A cage had been placed on the drive, centered on top of a salt pentagram.

Instant, raw hatred scoured Ares’s veins, as if they ran with hot sand instead of blood. Every bone in Ares’s body wanted to slaughter the thing and send it to Chaos in pieces—the way Ares had found his brother and sons.

Stomping his hooves, Battle tossed his head. He hated hellhounds as much as Ares, and the hostile vibes being thrown off by the Guardians weren’t making the stallion any calmer.

“Easy, boy,” he murmured. “We’re not going to fight today.” Too bad, too, because Ares was as juiced as his horse, though he had to credit Cara for some of that. He brought Battle to a halt ten yards from the Guardians.

“Ares.” Kynan stepped forward. Most of his crew were watching with awe, but they also were wary, their fingers flexing as if preparing to go for the weapons tucked in their leather shoulder harnesses. That would be a huge mistake. He swept his hand behind him. “These are our Yorkshire cell Guardians.”

Ares swung down from Battle. “They look thrilled to meet me.”

“Trust me,” Kynan said with a wry smile, “they’ll be talking about you for months.”

He snorted. “Years.”

A very pregnant female waddled out of the house, her black Goth clothing matching her black and blue striped hair. Kynan reached his hand out to her while keeping an eye on Ares. “This is my wife, Gem. I brought her with me because she’s due any minute.”

The female rubbed her belly. “That minute is now.”

Kynan’s sharp intake of breath was audible even over Hal’s whining. “Are you sure? We have to call Eidolon. And Shade. He’s your pain management, right? And Tayla. Have you called Tay?”

Ares had always thought the fatherly panic was fiction—when his own sons were born, he’d been told by messenger weeks after the births. But had he been there, he doubted he would have freaked out. During that time, men had little to do with pregnancies and birthing and babies, and as long as everyone survived the ordeal, it was all good.

Gem’s smile turned into a wince. “I just got off the phone with her. I told her my water broke, so the guys are heading to the hospital.”

“Your water broke?” Kynan patted down his pockets, maybe searching for a phone or keys. “We have to get you to UG.”

UG? She was a demon, then. One of the leaders of a demon-hunting organization was married to a demon? Maybe The Aegis had changed.

“We’ll be getting the hound and leaving, then,” Ares said, and nearly had a heart attack when he looked over at the cage, where Cara was already on her knees and hugging the animal through the bars. Didn’t matter that the canine was bonded to her—it could still kill her. Maybe. Ares didn’t know. Shit, he had to get his emotions under control. Think like a soldier.

Which wasn’t easy, given Cara’s proximity.

“Uh… lady, you might not want to get that close,” one of the Guardians called. All of the Aegi watched, bug-eyed and freaked out. Even Gem, who was in labor, wasn’t budging no matter how hard Kynan tugged on her.

Finally, he scooped her into his arms. She wound her arm around his shoulders and nuzzled his ear, and deep in Ares’s gut, something kindled. Longing? Envy? His wife hadn’t been affectionate at all. Attentive, yes, but they had never shared intimate moments like that, and as Kynan peered down at his wife’s swollen belly, his expression was a mix of worry, joy, and love.

Ares’s eyes shifted to Cara, and he actually had to swallow a lump in his throat.

Get your head out of your arse. He could hear his father’s bark, could swear a blow struck his cheek from his father’s backhand. The bastard had long been in the grave, and he still had the power to reach out and try to put Ares in his place.

For the first time, Ares welcomed his father’s interference. He couldn’t afford to let Cara matter to him. She was going to die. Even if she didn’t die because of the agimortus, she’d die long before he did, even with the hellhound bond. A couple of hundred years was a fruit fly’s lifespan for immortals.

And what the fuck was he running through the scenarios for? Love was not an option for him. It never had been. Caring for someone made you weak. Made you make stupid decisions. He’d seen it all over the centuries; men losing property, wars, their very lives over the love of a woman.

Idiots.

“William, you handle this.” Kynan awkwardly fished keys out of his pocket. “I’ll leave the Rover near Woodacre.”

There was a Harrowgate there, but it was still ten miles away. “Kynan.” Ares threw open a gate just outside the property fence. “Take it. You’ll come out at Underworld General.”

Gem peeked over Kynan’s shoulder to admire Ares’s handiwork. “That is so cool. I want that power.”

Kynan eyed the Harrowgate with distrust, until Gem socked him in the shoulder. “Hello! Do you want me to drop this kid right here? The baby is charmed, remember? As long as it’s in my belly, nothing can hurt me.”

Kynan shot Ares a look that said, “If you land us in a Sheoul blood pit, you’re dead,” and then he sauntered to the gate, stepping through after only a second of hesitation.

Ares moved closer to Cara, but when the fucking mutt went insane, snarling and snapping at him, he halted. Battle didn’t. He charged the cage, and before Ares could stop him, he reared up to smash the crate and hound to bits.

Cara leaped to her feet, put herself between the two-thousand-pound warhorse and the iron cage.

“No!” Ares’s shout came out in a deep, horrified rumble as Battle came down hard enough to make the ground tremble.

He’d stopped mere inches from crushing Cara. She stood there, not even flustered, and took Battle’s face in her hands. The horse calmed immediately, but Ares was shaking like a leaf, and his fear morphed abruptly into anger.

“Goddammit,” he snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking, Cara? He could have killed you.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She glared at him while stroking Battle’s cheeks. “Obviously, I’m fine.”

The Guardians shrunk back, twitchy fingers poised over their weapons. Great. They now thought he was not only incompetent, but an asshole as well. Snarling, he held out his arm. “Battle, to me.”

The horse let out a furious whinny that lingered in the air even after he’d settled on Ares’s skin.

“That,” Cara huffed, “was unnecessary.”

“No,” he ground out, “it wasn’t. When you released the mongrel, there would have been trouble.”

“I could have handled it.”

“I handled it. Now let’s do this.” He turned to the Guardians. “You had best watch from inside the house.”

They retreated, and he gave Cara the go-ahead. “Lever on top should open the cage.” Casually, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, even though he couldn’t injure the animal for fear of affecting Cara.

She gave the lever a shove, and the door rattled open. The hellhound bounded out, pounced, and took Cara to the ground. Ares’s heart jammed into his throat, but when Cara let out a delighted squeal and the dog bathed her face in sloppy kisses, it became clear that there was no danger here. No danger to her, anyway.

Hal lifted his head momentarily to peel back his lips in a silent warning aimed at Ares, and Ares returned it, hoping his hatred came across loud and clear. Dealing with this bastard was not going to be fun.

“Cara, let’s go. I don’t like you being this exposed.”

She told Hal to let her up, and he tore off across the lawn. “He needs to run. Maybe we could walk to the gate instead of ride? Give him a chance to stretch his legs?”

“Cara—”

“Please?”

It went against his better judgment, but Cara had been through so much, with little of it in her control, that he could do this one thing for her, he supposed.

Two heartbeats later, his own words, barked out at soldiers, rang through Ares’s head like a death knell. Never let a woman sway you. Never. Or I promise you’ll regret it.