The Four Horsemen Series Box Set: Books 1 to 3

by LJ Swallow

  I sigh and stare out the window, watching the ploughed fields rush by. I am not avoiding this anymore. "So, you're Death, are you?"

  "Heath."

  "But also the Horseman Death?" He doesn't reply, and I grit my teeth. “And I'm Truth?"

  "Fancy names for a shit role, that's all. Like Joss said last night, stories passed down by generations tend to become embellished." He flicks the indicator switch as we take a turn into the final street before his place. "We're here to stop an apocalypse, not start one.”

  "I know, you said, but—"

  He shoots me a tired look. "I don't like talking to you about this without the other guys around, sorry."

  I shuffle down in my seat, fighting a pout. Fine.

  Back at the house, I'm given Joss's room to dump my bag in. I'm given more information I don't want to hear when I protest I'm taking up his space.

  "It doesn't matter. We're moving on soon," says Ewan. "Joss can crash in my room for a few days."

  "Moving on where?" I ask.

  "North."

  "Well that narrows the location down," I mutter.

  Joss, whose flirting behaviour dropped as quickly as Heath's gives me one of his warm smiles, as if he knows this helps settle my nerves.

  "One of the portals is in the area we're headed, and there's been more activity around there. The vampire population in the area are pretty much under control, but there've been a few unwanted deaths so we need to check what's happening," says Joss.

  "Unwanted deaths? So what constitutes a wanted death?" I ask laying on the sarcasm.

  "Dead demons," says Heath sharply.

  "Oh. Okay. Well, I asked for that one."

  "We think that might be where Xander is," puts in Heath. "We were going to move on as soon as we found you, but I spoke to Joss and Ewan. We want to know the name of the guy who contacted you."

  "If he is a guy," replies Ewan.

  Whoa. I sit in silence and watch the conversation and dynamic around me. They discuss plans, only half-involving me, and I attempt to switch off from their insanity. Each time I pull back from what's happening in front of me, reality swirls around my head and disappears down a huge hole. I always suspected the world is different than the one presented to the masses, but never that mine was this.

  11

  VERITY

  Ewan kicks back, watching TV with a beer in his hand while Joss and Heath head out for the evening without any explanation to me. Killing random inhuman creatures or a trip to the pub again? If Ewan's here, I'm guessing the killing option since I’m sure he’d go if they were visiting the pub. I watch him for a moment. Will he continue his semi-snarky attitude to me if I sit and talk?

  Instead of joining him, I take my laptop into the kitchen and immerse myself back into the world of conspiracy and secrets.

  The message boards have been quiet since I last visited, and I've no messages from DoomMan. I fire off a quick one to him and confirm our meeting next week. Most people I communicate with are in Europe and the States, so he’s either travelling a long way to see me or lives locally. He never said. Is DoomMan one from the secretive new group, Red Virus?

  I pull on my bottom lip as I click through the latest news uploaded to the site. Due to the recent mind-blowing information about demons and other races, I begin to form new theories how the faceless people control society. This could explain the unexplained deaths and disappearances of key political and business figures too. No wonder whistle-blowers are too scared to step forward. The last two died by ‘suicide’, which I don’t believe.

  I work though news reports centred around the North of England and into Scotland but find nothing to suggest why the guys are headed there. This raises more questions. What do these portals look like? How do the guys protect them? Each click, each article, and my confusion grows.

  I slump back in my chair and stare at the screen.

  "You want a beer?" Ewan stands by the fridge, door open.

  I can't hide my surprise at his talking to me. Ordinarily, I'd avoid spending time around a guy with the look and demeanour Ewan has. His imposing look, and tattoos, along with his height, overshadow the other guys. As with all three, my wariness doesn't affect my physical reaction. I definitely need to avoid physical contact with him. Or anybody who lives here.

  "Maybe one beer. It might calm my nerves."

  He grabs a beer and pops off the top before setting it on the table in front of me. "Don't be nervous, I'm a nice guy really. Research?" He points at the laptop.

  "Just trying to keep some of my everyday normality."

  Ewan pulls out a chair and sits beside me, resting his forearms on the table. The mash of colourful ink show as his shirtsleeves ride up.

  "I guess you can wave normality goodbye. What are you looking at?"

  He leans forward to study my laptop screen, and I hold my breath against his scent, at how his arm brushing mine induces the same butterfly-craziness in my stomach.

  "Just keeping up with what's happening in the world."

  "Right." Ewan shifts in his seat and drinks as he watches me.

  "So, am I allowed to hunt the bad guys too?" I ask with a laugh.

  "Well, they'll be hunting you so I imagine you'd better."

  I stop typing, fingers resting on the laptop keys. "You don't hold back do you?"

  My heart rate increases as he tugs on his lip with his teeth. "Yeah, I do." He switches to what I presume he thinks is a reassuring smile. "You should be kept up to speed on everything, now you're with us."

  "I appreciate that."

  Ewan shrugs and points his bottle at the laptop. "I probably cause some of the problems you fix at work."

  "Huh. Thanks."

  "You know there's at least one demon who works at your place, right?"

  "I bet it's Charlotte. She can be a real bitch sometimes.” We share a smile. “I didn’t know, but I guess if Death works there, a demon can too."

  "Precisely." He laughs. "You're coping with this better than I thought."

  "Do I have any choice?"

  "Well, you're coming with us, when we leave."

  "Was that a suggestion or a statement?"

  "A bit of both. I'm forthright as you probably noticed."

  "I did."

  Ewan runs a hand across the day's growth on his cheek. "We need your help, Verity. Without you, the other four of us are weaker." He pauses and sets down the bottle. "The other guys think you need easing into the idea, but that's what caused the fae to get to you first. Inaction. You're safer here, and I sense you're okay to be with us?"

  I chew my lip and look back at my screen. "Yes, but I'm not sure I trust you totally."

  "Understandable and that's another reason I don't agree with keeping things from you."

  "What things?"

  "I've told you most of it." Most? "Hang on." Ewan leaves the room and reappears with his laptop, which he places on the table and sits next to me. "Want to see what I've been working on too?"

  "Sure." I shift my chair closer.

  Over the next half hour, Ewan takes me through pages of code, some I only half-understand, and in front of my eyes, hacks into MI5 emails. The encryption takes a few minutes for Ewan's program to pull apart, and he brings us more beers as we watch his virus spread.

  "Wow. I know people who've spent years trying to get to this level of hacking."

  He grins. "Pestilence, remember?"

  I stiffen. "I try not to."

  "Don't worry, I'm not infectious unless I want to be, and then I'm really infectious."

  "Do I want to know?" I ask.

  "I kill, but not people," he says in a flat voice. "And I stick to this damage usually."

  "Good to hear. I pick up viruses really easily."

  Ewan chuckles. "You pick up viruses? So, you’d pick up Pestilence?"

  I meet his eyes, hoping that he's teasing, but his guarded nature doesn't give me any clues. The silence hovers, as we attempt to read each other, and I hope he fails
too.

  "How are your finances?" he asks, eventually.

  "Not great."

  Ewan nods and opens another window on his screen. "You need a new ID if you're joining the gang. May as well give you a healthy bank balance too. Any names you prefer?"

  "Names?"

  I blink at how rapidly he runs through a set of sites, creating a new identity and medical records, dragging my picture from one to another. He sits back. "There you go. You're now also called Hope Springs."

  "You can't do that!"

  "Just did."

  "You seriously chose to give me that name?"

  Ewan gives me a sly smile and hovers his fingertips above the keys. "I can change it if you want."

  "And you steal?"

  "From selective accounts of those who have too much. We don't work unless we have to. You should've seen the sulking when Heath drew the short straw and had to take the job at your place."

  I smile. "I only saw him from a distance, and he always looked like he was perfecting the hot, brooding image. He was just a grumpy bugger, huh?"

  "Hot and brooding Heath? Ha. Yeah, girls fall for our friend Death a lot. Beer?"

  "Sure." I swallow down the rising jealousy, but he hasn't commented on the kiss, so how could it mean anything? His response irritates me, but it really isn't the hardest thing I'm dealing with right now. Plus, I'm fighting attraction to his friends so it would be hypocritical of me to be too pissed off.

  Maybe they should bottle and sell whatever testosterone they have because it must be bloody strong stuff.

  Ewan relaxes around me as we chat about computers, and the sites he visits in his search for unusual events, although his are for different reasons to me. He shows me around the spreadsheets and graphs cataloguing his research. Strange for their activities, but suit his analytical attitude.

  "Where exactly are Heath and Joss?" I ask.

  "Mopping up. Rogue shifter."

  Vampires. Shifters. "Rogue? Killing people?"

  "Werewolf. He's only killing other dogs now, but he's bound to move on."

  "To people?" I ask in horror. "How do you allow that?"

  "The shifters police themselves, but some reach adulthood and lose the ability to control their nature. Then they turn rogue, and we are called in to clean up."

  "You kill them?"

  "Yeah. The packs don't care. They don't want their society threatened. They live amongst us mostly peacefully. Same as the vampires."

  "Vampires? Peaceful?”

  "Relatively speaking." He grins. "They have donors and very strict rules. If any vampire steps out of line, the leaders of the Houses will rip their heads off. Literally."

  "Whoa." I blink. "You know, Ewan, every time I feel I'm getting a handle on this, you land more weirdness on me.

  "The problem is the demons influence is growing and the peace amongst the societies fading."

  I rub my temples before picking up my drink and draining the bottle. "Sounds like you have your work cut out."

  "We can decimate them in minutes if they step out of line, but the numbers who do are growing."

  I watch him, more animated as the alcohol subdues whatever guards him against me. Although the others don't lie to me, they hold back the truth, and I appreciate this. Do they think I can't deal with everything?

  "I think I'd rather help you with the research side rather than the hunting," I admit.

  Ewan laughs. "I do both. The other guys aren't clever enough to do this part."

  "I bet they wouldn't like to hear you say that."

  "Ah. They 'do' rather than think. Especially Heath and Xander. Instinct versus intellect." He smirks. "But don't tell them I said that. Beer?"

  I pick at the label on my bottle debating whether to ask for another or head to bed. "I'm tired."

  Ewan's eyes widen as he stands. "No problem. I have a show I'm watching. I'll leave you alone."

  "No. I don't mean I want you to leave me alone. I'm genuinely tired." I stand too.

  Ewan drags a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before releasing it and shaking his head. "Can I ask, and tell, you one more thing?"

  Hairs on my neck stand to alert. "About you four or me?"

  "Both. About our bond to each other as Horsemen. It's unbreakable. We can't walk away from this even if we wanted to. As guys, that makes us brothers in a way, but I don't think that brotherly nature will apply to you."

  "Are you telling me I can’t get close to any of you?”

  He quirks a brow and steps closer. "What happens when you do get close to us?"

  The energy pulls again, blotting my thoughts and switching all my focus to the man in front of me. My awareness magnifies as the same energy coils around and pulls me into imagining how soft his lips are, how I could run my fingers along the taut abs I saw this morning.

  Definitely not sisterly on my part. Does he know what happened with Heath?

  "I feel the bond when I get close," I say, eyes remaining on his. "That's all."

  "But not just to me, right? To all of us? I don't think it will be possible for us to keep you at a distance without concentrating really hard." He lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the featherlight sensation of his finger against the skin sparking across my scalp. "So if I keep my distance, don't presume that I'm a rude bastard. I just don't want this"—he gestures between us—"fucking things up."

  Mouth dry, I nod.

  "I worry you could weaken the bond. We may be immortal, but parts of us are very human." I stare back unable to comment. "What I'm saying is, you need to choose all of us or none of us, Vee, and I'd prefer the 'none' option. If we go beyond working with each other and have more… physical contact, emotions will become involved and things could become messy."

  I step backwards, away from the conversation. Do I thank him for his forthright words even though they scare me? Ewan's exact meaning isn't hard to grasp. What happened with Heath. How Joss reacted. My desire to be around them that's prevented me running. This is all part of something bigger.

  Why the hell did whoever created this make the Fifth a woman?

  12

  VERITY

  The three guys are spread around the house when I wake the next morning. Ewan's still in bed, Heath's in the kitchen, and Joss is in the lounge, bare feet on the table and paperback in hand. I incline my head to read the cover on the way by but don't recognise the title.

  "Morning, Vee." He waves a hand without looking up.

  "Hey."

  "Are you enjoying your time in my bed?"

  Joss still doesn't look at me, but I don't miss his fighting a smile.

  "I've had more interesting times in a man's bed," I reply. "Not so much in yours."

  His head snaps up from the book, and I arch a brow. He'll soon learn that a more relaxed Vee will mean less silence against his banter. "Well, we can fix that. Just say the word."

  I leave him with a smile and a question mark over whether I'm interested. Then walk straight into Heath, who has a weird selection of items on the kitchen table in front of him. One I recognise as the knife he used on the demon the other night.

  "Are we headed for a fun day out?" I ask, indicating his jacket slung across the back of the chair.

  "We're headed into town to see Portia, our local fae queen."

  I blink. "Local fae queen? How many are there?"

  "A few. We need to explain ourselves to this one, right, Heath?" Joss walks in and drops the paperback on the table. "You got more holy water for me?"

  Heath tosses him a small bottle from the table. I’d thought the bottle was alcohol and confused why Heath needed to drink on the job.

  "Has Xander called?" asks Joss.

  Joss shakes his head.

  "For fuck's sake. I'm beginning to worry now. What exactly caused your bust up this time?"

  “I disagreed with him on strategy. Usual shit. I told you."

  Joss shakes his head.

  “Is your friend okay?”
I ask.

  "He can look after himself,” says Heath with a laugh.

  "With water and a knife, I suppose?" I ask.

  "Take one." Heath gestures at the table.

  "What?"

  "A knife, Vee."

  I cross my arms. "Really? Your idea of diplomacy is marching into an audience with a queen carrying a knife?"

  "Audience?" Joss laughs. "He's right, though. Take one."

  I stare down at the selection on the table. The only knives I usually touch are when I'm chopping vegetables. "I might leave the killing to you."

  "Just for self-defence, Vee."

  The new estate in the village, close to my town, houses the wealthier end of our population. West Fordham and outlying villages are popular with commuters—people endure long journey times to London in order to afford bigger and better houses than if they chose to live in the city. Few of the town's original residents live in the architecturally designed and perfectly planned estate. Parks intersperse the large two-storey houses, and every detached home boasts immaculate gardens and at least two expensive cars in driveways.

  Nobody I know lives here; most families are originally from elsewhere and tend to keep themselves away from the local population.

  I thought we'd taken a wrong turn when we pulled into the estate. This isn't where I'd expect a fae queen to reside.

  I stare at the large brick residence with Tudor-style windows as Heath parks beside the Range Rover in the driveway. Pink and white roses border the lawn and the windows shine, pathways free from dirt and leaves.

  "A fairy queen lives here?"

  "Where did you expect her to live?" asks Ewan. He opens his door and jumps out from the seat beside me, in the rear of Heath's SUV. "In the middle of the woods? The bottom of your garden?"

  Yes. "No."

  My car door opens and Heath stands there. “And don’t call her a fairy. When I said the supernatural live amongst us, I meant literally. Hiding in plain sight, the easiest way to stay disguised."