Immortal Rider

Six

Limos entered Underworld General’s emergency room, which was busier than shit. A golden-haired nurse, Vladlena according to her nametag, slowed as she wheeled a gurney containing a bleeding patient past.

“Eidolon is in surgery.” She pointed in the direction of the triage desk. “Shade is over there.”

“I’m not here for—”

Vladlena took off without listening, but Shade had caught sight of Limos. Great. Shade had been a major pain in the ass lately. He was mated to Arik’s sister, and though there didn’t seem to be any love lost between Arik and Shade, the demon was not happy to see his mate worried about her brother. And naturally, since Arik’s situation was Limos’s fault—indirectly, since Arik kissed her, not the other way around—Shade had been making life hell for Limos.

Shade tossed the clipboard he’d been holding onto the reception desk and stalked over. “You have news?”

“Nothing new,” she said. “I’m here to meet Kynan.”

“I just got off the phone with him. He’s on his way.”

“Thanks.”

“You can thank me by finding Arik.” He strode away before she could respond. Jackass.

She plunged her hand in her pocket and played with Arik’s dogtags as she observed the nonstop stream of patients coming through the ER. What was he doing right now? Was he screaming in agony? Was he huddled in the dark, cold and afraid? Was he thinking about her and cursing her name? She broke out in a sticky sweat that smelled like guilt. Putrid, thick, bitter guilt.

Desperate for a distraction, she grabbed Vladlena again. “Is it always so busy?”

“Lately,” she sighed. “It’s all the underworld turmoil. Those who want the Apocalypse to start are fighting those who don’t, and then the warg wars have started up again, and a new plague is affecting feline shifters, so we’re getting an influx of them.”

Limos had no doubt that Pestilence was behind the shifter plague, his way of sending a message. Namely, that once the Apocalypse started, shifters had better side with him, or he’d take them all out with a touch of a finger.

Vladlena took off just as Kynan stepped out of the gate, his denim blue eyes instantly zeroing in on Limos. “What’s this about?” he said by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” she muttered. “Come on. I have something to show you. Something you might find helpful.” The lie stroked all her pleasure centers and made her a little dizzy.

Kynan cursed, but entered the Harrowgate with her. Since he had been charmed by angels, he had little to fear, but it didn’t surprise her that when the gate opened inside the t K inbeeomb, he hesitated.

“If this is a trap—”

“It’s not.” But yeah, she could understand his concern. She’d brought him to a sealed tomb, and if she opened a gate and got out without him, he would be trapped until his friends found him… which could be a long, long time. “See that stone box? It’s an Aegis vault. I found it while I was searching for my agimortus.”

A shot of adrenaline streamed into her veins, and for a moment, she had to breathe through the lovely jolt. It had been so long since she’d told such a big lie, so long since she’d gotten a forbidden thrill from it, that she’d forgotten how great it felt.

The weigh scales on her shoulder blade made a substantial tip in favor of evil, reminding her of the gravity of what she’d just done. The farther the scales tipped and the longer they remained weighted toward evil, the poorer choices she made, the less she cared about anyone but herself. Worse, she’d enjoy others’ suffering. She’d start famines for fun, and all it would take was a touch. She could lay her finger on a single man, and it wouldn’t matter how much food he ate—he’d slowly starve, and everyone he came into contact with would suffer the same fate. All the while, she’d laugh. She’d make Pestilence look like a Boy Scout.

Damn you, brother.

Kynan was silent as a cat as he crept up to the box and knelt next to it. Pestilence had left it open, the heavy lid askew. Kynan’s assessing gaze traveled over the Aegis symbol on the lid, and then carefully, he picked up one of the coins inside, using his thumb to wipe off the dust.

“What is all that stuff?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Some of these pieces could be enchanted, used in certain rituals… I’m not sure. We’ll need to study them.” He glanced over at her. “You’re old… have you seen any of these before?”

Old? “I prefer to think of myself as worldly, and no. I’ve never seen them before.” The lie slammed more pleasure into her body. Funny how the fib could give her physical gratification, but mental anguish. Some small part of her actually hoped Kynan didn’t fall for this even as a tingly high fired along every nerve ending. “Do you guys find a lot of these forgotten Aegis chambers?”

Whatever Pestilence’s plan was, it could hinge on the believability of her happening upon a lost Aegis treasure trove.

“Every once in a while,” he said. “Records have been lost, so some of these places have been long forgotten. And in other cases, someone was given a task in haste, an object that needed to be hidden, and then, before the Guardian could reveal the location, they died. So yeah, there are a number of chambers we know exist but can’t locate, and hiding places we never knew about that we stumble across. And with the Apocalypse coming at us, discoveries are popping up in record numbers.”

“Because things once hidden want to be found when doomsday is nigh,” she murmured, quoting an ancient Aegis prophet she’d met back in the days before Christianity.

“Exactly.” KE when doom Kynan traced his finger over one of the necklaces at the bottom of the vault. “As the end of days nears, secrets are revealed.”

Secrets revealed. Limos did not like the sound of that. She closed her eyes, trying to black out her past, her guilt, and not doing a very good job. She’d deceived so many, from the very day she’d walked out of Sheoul to now. And as much as she wanted to warn Kynan about the objects she’d led him to, she couldn’t. Too much was at stake. The artifacts were in The Aegis’s hands now, and what they did with them wasn’t her concern.

A scratching sound had her opening her eyes to see Kynan brushing sand away from the base of the stone box.

“What are you doing?”

He licked his lips, his expression one of intense concentration. “Sometimes these boxes have hidden compartments.”

She squatted down. “Can I help?”

“I wouldn’t. They’re usually warded so that if anyone but a Guardian tries to open them, either the contents are destroyed, or the person trying to get in gets a nasty surprise.”

He pressed on a carved symbol with his forefinger. There was a grinding noise, followed by a puff of sand that made them both cough. Kynan waved his hand to clear the brown cloud, and as the particles fell away, a drawer was revealed. Inside were three fragile-looking scrolls.

“Cool,” she breathed.

She wondered if Pestilence had known about the drawer. Maybe this find would make up for whatever evil Pestilence was up to with the artifacts.

Kynan picked one up. “Seals are intact.” His smile, as he looked up at her, was one that could make a woman drunk with want. “Thanks, Limos. Between the artifacts and the scrolls, this could prove to be one of our best finds in a long time.”

Guilt soured her mouth. “Yeah. No problem. You ready to go?”

Kynan unfurled to his full height, which was well over six feet. “Yep. Just one minute.”

He carefully filled his pockets with the treasures. “If you can take me to Berlin, I’d be grateful.”

“Specific location?”

“Nope.” His smile told her he didn’t want to give away the location of The Aegis’s headquarters, which she got.

She threw open a gate. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” He grabbed her arm, and she resisted the urge to throw him across the chamber for touching her. Not that she could. Trying to injure Kynan was useless. “Are you making any progress in locating Arik?”

“No,” she said softly, “I haven’t. I’m on my way back to the hellmouth, though.”

Her cell beeped, and she checked it, expecting Than, but what she saw made her blood run both ho Kd rwidt and cold. “Oh… God.”

“What is it?”

The update flashing on her underworld app filled the chamber with an eerie glow. “The gambling network. It’s buzzing.” Pains stabbed her chest, and for a second she was pretty sure she was having a heart attack. “The odds of Arik dying tomorrow just tanked.”

“That’s good news.”

“No,” she whispered. “It’s not.” She looked up. “The rumor is that he escaped. Odds now are that he’ll be dead in an hour.”

“Hey, Pest.” The light tone Arik went for didn’t make it past his parched, raw throat.

“Did you really think you were going to escape?”

Arik swung around, hoping his wince at the painful twinge in his hip came across as a casual smile. “Nah. I broke out to get some exercise. How’d you find me, anyway?”

Pestilence, his big body encased in tarnished armor that oozed oily stuff at the joints, rubbed his chin as though deep in thought. As if the fucker had more than one brain cell. “Spiny hellrats are my spies. But for what it’s worth, it was a noble attempt. Impressive, actually.”

“I live for your admiration.”

“I’m sure.”

Arik’s stomach rumbled, the sound magnified by the tunnel’s acoustics, which was a little embarrassing. “What is it you want from me? ’Cuz I gotta tell ya, there’s very little you can do that hasn’t been done.”

The Horseman smiled, exposing some serious fangage. “We’re going to get close, you and I. Very, very close.”

Arik swallowed. Tried to, anyway. His throat was too dry. But he definitely didn’t like the sound of Pestilence’s close thing. “Look, I’m sure you make all the lady demons cream their panties, but I’m just not that into you.”

“You’re into Horsemen, though, aren’t you? You’re here because you couldn’t keep your hands off my sister.” Pestilence shrugged. “I’m not judging. She’s got that unattainable bad girl quality going on. Took balls for you to kiss her, what with you being a pathetic human and all.”

Too exhausted to banter any more, Arik slumped against the wall of the cave. “Just do whatever you came to do. Take me back to the cell. Kill me. Whatever. I’m tired of the games.”

Pestilence was in Arik’s face in a heartbeat, his fingers wrapped around his throat. Arik didn’t even have a chance to fight back before he was lifted into the air and slammed into the stone with such force that his teeth rattled.

“I would love to kill you right now, but I have other plans.” Pestilence knocked Arik against the wall again, and the crack of breaking bones echoed like gunshots off the stone walls.

Pain set fire to every nerve ending. He dangled there, watching in horror as the fucker struck, sinking his huge-ass fangs into his throat. Arik punched, scratched, struggled as hard as he could, but nothing he did seemed to faze Pestilence.

Gradually, blood loss sapped his strength, until his struggles amounted to little more than spastic twitches. He became lightheaded, woozy, and eventually all the pains and aches melted away, leaving him blissfully numb.

Pestilence lifted his head, and though Arik’s vision had gone dark, he felt the rasp of the dude’s tongue sliding over the punctures. Crazily, Arik’s only thought was how vampire-like the whole thing was.

Pestilence released him, and he dropped heavily to the ground, landing in a crumpled, motionless heap. Arik heard the clank of armor, and then something was against his mouth, and warm liquid was flowing over his tongue. At first, he was grateful for the wetness that relieved his parched tongue and throat, and he swallowed greedily.

Until he realized the wetness was blood.

Holy hell, he was drinking the Horseman’s blood—

His body jackknifed as pain shot through him, and suddenly he was flopping around like a dying animal on the side of the road, his limbs out of control, his head banging on the stone floor. Pestilence wrestled him flat on the ground with his huge, armored body, forcing Arik to keep drinking, even though he wanted to vomit.

White spots floated in front of his eyes, and darkness surrounded him, sucking him into a spinning vortex of oblivion.

And then he was alone, lying on the ground. The narrow tunnel didn’t look familiar, and the ceiling was so low that an average-sized man would have to duck to walk through it. Mixed with the stifling, searing heat was a cool breeze. Well, not cool, exactly. More like a slightly less blistering breeze.

And wait… what had happened? How had he gotten here? Why was he not in his cell?

Didn’t matter. He needed to find the source of the breeze. He tried to get to his feet, but they wouldn’t work. Nothing below the waist worked. He supposed he should be panicking, but mentally, he was as numb as his lower body.

The breeze beckoned him, and reaching deep for what little energy remained in his broken body, he dug his fingers into the black soil and dragged himself toward the fresh air. Heat blasted him, steam and smoke burned his eyes, and his fingernails tore. But little pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, giving him hope and the willpower to continue.

He pulled himself along, grunting with every inch of progress, until finally, dear God finally, he found himself at the precipice between hell and the earth.

And then he realized, as he stared into the gaping maw of a massive, bubbling volcano, that nothing had changed. He’d climbed out of hell, but this was no different. This was hell on earth.

The volcano’s hellmouth looked the same to Limos as it had when she’d searched it earlier. Blackened, with steam rising toward it, though most of it was deflected by the air coming out of Sheoul.

Kynan had come with her, gated straight from the chamber in Egypt. All she could think of was the gambling odds she’d seen. The demons who monopolized the underworld—and, now, the upperworld—gambling industry were eerily accurate, and the fact that they’d given Arik high odds of dying within an hour was beyond bad.

“Where’s the entrance?” Kynan said, as he picked his way across a field of jagged rock.

She jerked her head at the shimmering bubble that spread across a gaping hole in the side of the mountain. “Right there. Let’s go.”

She started toward it, but a pained groan halted her in her tracks. Wheeling around, she zeroed in on a crack in the earth a few feet from the entrance to the tunnel. Was that a… hand? Yes. She bolted over stone as sharp as glass shards to where the hand became an arm, and then a torso and head became visible, and her heart went crazy.

Arik.

Dear… God. Mouth so dry she couldn’t swallow, she fell to her knees next to him. She’d seen so much in her lifetime, but the sight of this man, who had been so powerful, so healthy… but who was now gaunt, his skin shredded, blistered from the heat and blackened from ash… the horror of it made her own skin shrink. On her arm, Bones writhed at the scent of Arik’s blood.

“Arik,” she whispered. “It’s me, Limos.”

Kynan came up behind her, and his muttered, “Christ,” echoed through the crater. He went down on his heels and rested two fingers against Arik’s throat as he leaned over to put his cheek near Arik’s mouth. “He’s breathing. Pulse is erratic. We have to get him to—”

Kynan leaped to his feet, startled by a swarm of demons that was charging from out of the hellmouth’s entrance. He drew his stang and turned to her. “Go! Take Arik!”

Limos didn’t argue. She threw a Harrowgate and gathered Arik in her arms, surprised by his weight. He was thin, but he’d retained some muscle and had somehow kept more weight on him than she’d expected.

An arrow sailed past her head as she stepped through the gate. It punched into a tree trunk outside her private Hawaiian villa, narrowly missing skewering her gardener. Keeping Arik tucked against her, she stepped into the sand. Her chef, housekeeper, and one of her three guards, all wolf shifters from a nearby pack, came running.

“I need help carrying him to my room.” She nodded at her chef, Hekili. “Go to Underworld General and bring the doctor named Eidolon here. Quickly.”

The others helped her get Arik settled on top of her frilly pink comforter. They brought her warm water and a washcloth, and while she waited for Eidolon, she wiped Arik down, making slow, gentle passes over his skin. What wasn’t scraped raw or cut open was inflamed and disco Kmedm walored; his fingertips had been worn to the bone, and his neck had been savaged by a pair of huge fangs. There wasn’t an inch of him that hadn’t been injured.

“Oh, Arik,” she murmured. “If you just hadn’t kissed me. If you hadn’t made me want you…” One corner of his swollen mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile, and she jerked in surprise. “Can you hear me?”

His cracked lips ruffled in a bigger smile before they settled into a pained, pinched line again. On impulse, she leaned over and touched her mouth to his, lightly, hoping for a response.

Nothing. But then, what had she been hoping for? That he’d suddenly sit up, good as new? That her kiss would wake him from his torment? She’d always loved fairy tales, loved how princesses always got their princes, but this was no children’s fable where he’d magically get better because of her touch. This was a horror story, and it was her fault he was hurt in the first place.

Sighing, she wiped away blood from a gash in his jaw. He’d been shaved recently, but she didn’t ponder that for too long—demon jailers often shaved their prisoners to keep their skin exposed and sensitive to torture.

God, what he must have gone through. “I—” She cut herself off, unable to say it. I’m sorry. Growing up, she’d been forbidden to ever say those words. To ever feel sorry about any action. Sorry meant weakness. The one time she’d apologized, to a messenger bringing word from her fiancé, her mother had punished Limos by gouging the male’s eyes out before throwing him to her slaves to defile.

No… sorry was not a word to be thrown around lightly, and she’d said it only once since. Last month, when Ares’s servant, Torrent, had been killed, her brother’s pain had overridden her upbringing, just as Arik’s was threatening to do now.

Eidolon, dressed in scrubs, arrived, ending her dark ruminations, and wouldn’t you know it, Shade was with him, looking all cocky in his black paramedic uniform. The brothers’ resemblance was so strong that if not for Eidolon’s short black hair and Shade’s longer hair, they could be mistaken as twins. Kynan came in behind them, dripping with demon blood.

“You should have brought Arik to UG,” Eidolon said, as he crossed to the bed.

The desire to make up some dramatic excuse niggled at her, because frankly, she could use a dose of euphoria right now, but she gritted her teeth and told the simple truth. “I didn’t want anyone to know he’s been found.”

Eidolon grabbed a pair of shears from out of the red medic bag Shade placed at Arik’s feet. “Who is anyone?”

“The demons he escaped from.” She glanced at Ky. “I’m assuming you killed the ones who attacked us?”

“Yeah. Once you were gone, they tried to get back inside the hellmouth, but headless demons don’t go far.”

Shade helped Eidolon cut off Arik’s shredded pants, and Limos practically shook with rage at the sight of swollen, bruised flesh and broken bones poking through skin. She would destroy the bastards who’d don Ks wge e this.

“You don’t think anyone will guess Arik’s with you?” Shade asked.

“No one knows where I live. Underworld General is sort of… famous. And I don’t trust your staff.”

Eidolon shot her a dark look before palming Arik’s forehead, his dermoire glowing as he channeled his ability into the human. “He’s in bad shape. Really bad.” He frowned. “There’s a lot of healed damage. Holy hell, he’s had his ear drums punctured, every bone broken multiple times, his skull is a mass of fractures. His organs are caked with scar tissue.”

“So someone healed him?” Limos was going to make Arik’s captors experience everything he had. Without the healing. “What—or who—could have done that?”

Shade dug IV supplies out of his bag. “Spells could have been used. And there are some species of demons who have abilities similar to ours, though not nearly as powerful.”

Eidolon’s frown became a scowl, and then a growl. “I can’t repair any of the old injuries, which means it was a Sem who healed him. Arik is going to be dealing with this damage for the rest of his life. I can fix a lot of things, but not another Sem’s work.”

“What do you mean?” Kynan moved next to her.

Eidolon palpated Arik’s abdomen. “It’s like someone setting a broken leg bone but not knowing what they’re doing. The bone will heal, but it’ll heal wrong, leaving the limb bent or twisted. Arik’s healer did that with pretty much everything. Whoever did it was good enough to keep Arik alive, but he wasn’t practiced.”

“There’s nothing you can do?” she asked, as Shade hung a bag of clear liquid from the bed post and then inserted a needle into the back of Arik’s hand.

Eidolon shook his head. “Once something has been healed by another Seminus demon… it can’t be undone.”

Limos cursed. “What about the immediate injuries? The shit he’s dealing with right now?”

“Those I can fix.” Eidolon nodded at Shade. “Need your help, bro. He’s got spinal fractures, a severed spinal cord, third-degree burns, bilateral compound tib-fib fractures, and multiple lacerations. If you can handle his pain, I’ll get the healing started.”

“Wait.” At some point, she’d dug Arik’s dogtags out of her pocket, and now she held them as if his life depended on her firm grip. “His back is broken? As in, he’s paralyzed?”

“For now. We’ll fix it.”

The doctor sounded so confident, and she hoped to hell he could do what he claimed. Shade gripped Arik’s wrist, and his dermoire started glowing like his brother’s. She paced, worrying the dogtag chain and wearing down the hardwood floor. She tried not to look, but every time Arik moaned, she flinched, looked over, and ached at the sight of his pale, waxy skin and pain-pinched expression.

Twice she caught her Khe me Arik moself moving toward him, as if she could help, even if all she could do was hold his hand. Would he be comforted by her touch, or would she cause him more distress?

And why did she care? Sure, the scales on her shoulder blade were evenly balanced again, but this was still the first time she’d worried about how someone besides her brothers might react to her.

Frustrated by the direction of her thoughts, she concentrated on inane things, like planning her next nail color scheme. Would Arik like orange and lime?

Finally, Eidolon stepped back and wiped his sweat-dampened brow with the back of his hand.

“He’ll need to rest, and when he wakes up, make sure he gets food and liquids.” Eidolon pulled the bed sheet up to Arik’s chest. “Call me if something isn’t right.”

Shade removed the tube and catheter from Arik’s vein and tucked the empty IV bag and supplies into his duffle. “I’ll let Runa know he’s here. She’ll want to see him.”

“Of course. I’ll contact you when he wakes.”

“Limos.” Kynan plunked a coin into her empty palm. “I got this off one of the demons I killed. Who is Sartael?”

Sartael? Well, surprise, surprise. She held the thin slice of metal up to the light and studied the winged-skull symbol that was Sartael’s mark. “He’s a fallen angel who presides over lost and hidden things. There are also some obscure rumors about him being our father.”

Kynan cocked an eyebrow. “I thought your father was an angel named Yenrieth.”

“Yes, but he hasn’t been seen since Lilith got pregnant. Angels usually get a new name when they fall, and many say Yenrieth fell as punishment for impregnating a demon. According to some rumors, he became Sartael… who hasn’t been seen since after Lilith gave birth.”

“So why would a demon be carrying a coin with Sartael’s mark?”

“Apparently,” she mused, “he’s back. He would have imbued this coin with location magic. It would lead the bearer to Arik.”

“Is Arik still in danger of being found?”

“Now that he’s no longer in Sheoul, he’s safe from Sartael. Outside of Sheoul, Sartael’s powers are limited to locating demons and demonic artifacts.” She flipped the coin in her palm. “Arik will be safe with me.”

Kynan’s sharp gaze caught hers. “Ares tried to kill Arik before he was taken to Sheoul. How do I know he’ll be okay with you?”

Limos tried not to take offense, but she still snapped, “Because I wouldn’t have called for Eidolon if I wanted him dead.”

“And what about your brothers?”

“They don’t want him dead, either.” That particular untruth came easily, probably because she wished it were true. “You have my word K haont>

Kynan gave a single nod and strode out with Shade and Eidolon. As the door closed, Arik groaned. The sound was a spear to the gut. She’d never been the type to offer comfort—she had no problem offering her opinion, but the desire to take care of another had never been part of her makeup.

She moved toward the bed, her steps tentative, as if she were approaching an injured bear and not an unconscious man.

“Arik?” Her voice was a froggy croak.

He groaned again, louder, his jaw clenched as though in unbearable pain. Maybe she should grab Eidolon—

His body tensed and trembled, and he tossed his head, the tendons in his neck straining as he opened his mouth in a silent scream.

Thoughts of grabbing the demon doctor went out the window, replaced by a sudden need to end Arik’s suffering. Hastily, she climbed into bed with him and used her body to control his thrashing. As gently as she could, she rested her head on his shoulder and put her hand on his chest. His heart pounded into her palm and drummed in her ear. This was the closest she’d ever been to a man—intimately, at least, and was her pulse supposed to match his like that?

It made her body hum and felt oddly… right… when she hadn’t even known there was something wrong.

Another moan dredged up from his chest, the sound of so much agony. He’d been physically healed, but mentally… she didn’t even want to think about what kind of damage had been done. He jerked, his muscles spasming so violently that his arms flailed.

“Shh.” Using a light touch, she stroked him, long, soothing passes through his hair, over his jaw, and down his throat. He settled down, his breathing even, the rise and fall of his chest becoming steady. “That’s it. Sleep.”

His hand came up, startling her as his fingers circled her wrist. She watched, breathless, as he put her palm against his lips in what she swore was a kiss. Confused by his tenderness and overwhelmed by the feelings it stirred inside her, she went completely still. No one had ever been so… she didn’t even know the word for it, that’s how foreign what he’d done was to her.

All she knew was that her Horseman name, Famine, was fitting. She’d always been starving for something she couldn’t name, because she hadn’t experienced it. Now she had.

A man’s touch. A man’s affection.

Now she was hungrier than ever, and that could only be a bad thing.