by Lexi Ostrow
“FASHEEM!” Stryder's bellow caused her to jump. But the entrance of the beautiful warrior had her gasp. There was no real resemblance between the brothers except their beauty and she didn't have time to appreciate his jet black hair and eyes before they exchanged a look and flashed out.
She jumped off the floor and slammed her hand on the table, pissed that she had been left behind. As blonde looked at her, guilt replaced the anger. “Damn you! You can't do this! You can't leave me and run to fight!” Cursing Stryder when he was gone was pointless, but at least this way he didn't get to talk back.
“Forgive me for interrupting, but if you're the female Stryder bragged about to his brothers, then I'd say you best get used to this.” She smiled and stuck out her hand. “I'm Jessica. Fasheem's wife.”
She nodded. She knew who she was from the small section in the book on her. “Not to be rude, and forgive my outburst, but I'm not from here. I shouldn't be left behind.”
Jessica gave a good laugh before sitting and the table and gesturing for her to do the same. “They'll be back. They always are, but for now, let's just you and I have a chat shall we?”
* * *
He felt guilty leaving her. He even felt a little guilty for yelling at her too, but this wasn't her fight. At least he didn't think it was. He wasn't sure how to tell the difference now. The bar was a wash of blood and body parts and he couldn't fucking believe the majority of them were demon. The four of them stood at the entrance and watched for a moment. Their Horsemen at the surface ready to take over and lend them what they needed to win. With a nod to his brothers he closed his eyes and opened them, letting War look through him. Letting War take over him to finish this quickly.
Walking to the nearest human he punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath from him and dropped his weight onto him. Straddling the males chest he sent swift punches to the man's chest and stomach. Growling appreciatively as he felt the man die from the onslaught. He heard Jameson shout a warning and spun, claws out, just as a human female rushed him with a dagger. Slicing through her neck took little to no thought and she dropped, wheezing for air. He didn't bother to give her a mercy kill. Instead stepped on top of her and moved toward the gun blasting jackass who'd landed a shot on Demarcus, if he's brother’s outcry meant anything.
Plucking the gun from his hand, he twisted the man's neck and dropped him to the ground. A demon to his left walked up and he nodded, not realizing the danger from his own kind. The kick to the stomach caught him off guard and he doubled over. Fury clouded his vision as he realized what he hadn't prior, the Initiative had demons helping them. His claws slashed out, lancing his nails across the demon's back and drawing blood. He growled before wrapping his hands around the demon's neck. It's legs flailed and and barely managed to knee Stryder in the back, causing him to loosen his grip enough that it sunk it's claws into his stomach. Using his speed he slashed out, catching the demon across the chest and relished the sound of its scream.
“This is fucking insane. Why are they helping them?” Jameson's cry was barely audible over the battle sounds in the bar.
He grunted as he struck out at his own demon foe. “Good fucking question, but let's not stop to ask them, k?” A roundhouse kick landed across his stomach as he raced behind his foe and another kick landed in his mid back, shooting him forward. Using his speed he turned to face the demon who had been eluding him and landed a punch to the center of his face. He heard bone crack and saw the blood flow from the demon's nose. “Oh just fucking die already.” Grabbing his dagger from his boot he sliced the demon from pelvis to chin and side stepped the gurgling creature as it fell before moving to help Fasheem.
A fire pulsed through him, delighting in the battle. His body tingled in excitement at being able to taunt his brother with this later. Yes! This was what he'd been needing. He heard their murmurs and realized that two were trying to retreat and one was merely in the way. “Chicken shits. Say hello to why you're running.” He grinned exposing his razor sharp teeth and fangs. His eyes flashed again, the rage had set in for a second round of fighting.
He could feel his body lunging and heard the startled cry as he grabbed the demon closest to harming his brother from behind and snapped his neck like it was nothing more than a popsicle stick. But then the change took over and he surrendered to War. He remembered nothing save for when he opened his eyes and saw all the bodies on the floor.
His scream filled the room as some worthless little human sliced his arm from shoulder to elbow. His eyes flashed between demon and his at the pain. “Oh no, see we don't fucking touch a Horseman's Second. And here's why.”
His leg swept in front of him and the hunter slammed into the ground. Leaning down he dug his claws into the guys neck and whispered into his ear. “You picked the wrong demon in this bar, buddy.” His claws still digging into his shoulder he picked him up off the ground. The scream tore from the human's throat and was music to his ears. His legs were spazzing in the air and he kicked Stryder in the shin and he snarled. “You're lucky you missed my boys or I would make this way more painful.” His claws dug in deeper and his hand clamped over his mouth. “Now, now, now. No screaming too loud. I'd accidentally drop you headfirst into the ground.” The whimper shot adrenaline through him and he dropped the human to the ground. The sounds around him seemed to have stopped. Which meant he was putting on a show and he intended to make an example out of this one who was clearly left behind when the others retreated.
His eyes grew wide and he tried to scramble away, the blood trickling quickly down his throat and cascading over his shoulders to the ground. Stalking forward he bent over slowly and picked up a sword that was abandoned on the ground. “Next time don't try to fuck with a demon, because we're not weak and worse, sometimes it's me.” The sword sliced effortlessly through the man's neck, severing his head from his body. Battle lust pounding through his body, he tossed the sword to the floor and strutted over to his brothers. As he had assumed, the fighting was over, he had killed the last.
Bodies and plaster chunks that used to be the wall littered the floor. Blood splatters dripped in rivers off the bar and tables, falling to puddles on the floor. He heard Jameson whistle. “Good thing I'm not cleaning this one up.” They all laughed at his bad joke and continued to take in the mess. Just like when they'd arrived it was obvious most of the casualties were demons. Problem now was telling which were innocent and which were corrupt.
“Anyone want to touch on the fact that we fought our own kind in service to those ass wipes?” Fasheem sidestepped a body and walked up to the bar, motioning for the demon female behind it to toss him a bottle of tequila. Which she did and he took a long swig from it.
“Nope. Not right now at least.” Demarcus was acting as leader. “Jameson, Fasheem, you two are in charge of figuring out the why. Stryder you need to figure out if this was a normal attack or not, because they haven't ever attacked an outright hideout before.”
He nodded. His brother was right. Wouldn't you know it as he scanned the floor he noticed Jonathan's body wasn't among the dead and punched the nearest chair, launching it into a wall where it shattered.
“Whoa bro, fights over. Tell War to take a walkie.” Jameson had his hand on his arm and he quickly noticed his brothers had called off their connection with their Horsemen.
Dropping the connection quickly, he apologized. “Any shot we can shelve this hot mess? I left Ciara with Jessica and by now I'm sure she has enough blackmail material to have chopped off my penis and handed it to a cat or something.”
His brothers erupted into laughter and he clenched his fists.
“Besides, if I'm going to convince her to be with me, I think you knuckleheads can help a little. Just for a quick minute then we can go all investigative, but, D? You're taking my part, I need to train her. I may not have time to get to her and flash out next time. She needs to be trained and you can talk till you're blue, I'm not changing my mind.”
Demarcus nodded and c
lasped a hand on his back causing him to wince from that last fucking cut. “Sounds good. Let's go and say hello to our soon to be sister in law. Go get yourself cleaned up too, you like shit.”
“Don't count your chickens before they hatch. It seems that unless I'm trying to bed, her she's insistent I repulse her.”
Not wanting to answer questions about that, he flashed out and found her sitting at the table with Jessica looking perfectly content and laughing about something. She must have heard him because she turned in her chair and smiled at him. The wind knocked out of him at the sight of her truly laughing. Her eyes were so crystalline and her smile lit up her face making her more beautiful. The smile faded as she took in his appearance. The worry that flashed over her made him happy, she did care. Her earlier words were out of anger.
“Stryder!” She was out of the chair and wrapped her arms around him quickly. She realized she betrayed the anger she had been trying to pull off prior to the bar exploding and pulled back, sitting back down. “What happened?” Her eyes looked over the slice on his arm and she frowned.
“It's fine, nothing to worry about.”
“ Don't do that again or so help me I'll zap you, if I find out I still can.”
Jessica almost choked on her sip of coffee and smiled as Fasheem flashed in, rising to hug and kiss her mate, as the other two came in and she inspected them. Naturally they had cleaned up before leaving, making him look like hell.
“Oh perfect. You're all just in time! I was about to tell her about the time Stryder thought he should take dancing lessons and practiced with a mop!”
The hoots of laughter rang out around him and he glowered, cursing them all as he sat down for a round of good natured ribbing with his family, not daring to slip his hand into Ciara's, he put it over the chair back and leaned back, prepared to defend himself.
Chapter 17
As the brothers took care of the last bits of cleanup from the bar fight, her mind had trouble staying present in the room. The look of Styder, blood seeping from various wounds and slashes across his body would not erase from her memory. Nor would the terror of seeing him so hurt and bloodied. Even if he had said everything was fine, her heart had still caught in her throat at the sight of him.
Ciara couldn't help the smile that spread upon her face as she listened to the banter. Sitting in the large kitchen should have intimidated her. She had four burly men and a beautiful older woman seated across from her. But it didn't. It felt normal, kind of like she fit.
Stop that right now, Ciara. This is protection. Nothing more. Don't go glamorizing it. What would you be doing it if you'd never had the option to come here? She couldn't help sitting there and sneaking sideways glances at a warrior that made her blood boil so quickly she couldn't wait to undress him. But that was the catch, that's what she was doing.
“So not that we don't trust our brother, Ciara, may we call you Ciara? Joking aside, how do we know you're not drugging our brother and working for the Initiative?” Fasheem wrapped his arm around his wife as he asked the question.
It shouldn't have shocked her that they would want proof, but it was certainly not something she knew how to provide. “I wish I could offer something concrete. But honestly? I've got nothing. I was barely thirty-five pages into Demarcus's book when Stryder popped out. And to be frank, my life has kind of been turned upside on its head, so reading has been the farthest thought I've had in a few weeks. Just reading what I read was only because I was having trouble writing my own novel and a friend who is already published suggested a seminar to help get my juices flowing again.”
Fasheem seemed to contemplate the answer. Like he was testing its validity. She'd expected Stryder to defend her, but the absent look in his eyes stung. Did he think she was an undercover agent? She scooted the chair a little further away from his. Their knees had been touching and she should've moved long ago, but she couldn't bring herself to break the contact. That was until she thought he didn't trust in what he knew of her.
“Don't listen to Fasheem. He's always been the logical one and who the fuck needs logic?” Jameson winked at her and she offered a weak smile back.
She'd never undergone that with Alcott. Never felt like she wanted to climb out of her own skin and run screaming, rather than explore the new world, but their distrust hurt her. “Perhaps I could tell you the things I know from the novel? It will not be much, but unless the Initiative has a seeing glass, they could not possibly know these events as of yet.”
Again Fasheem nodded and she continued. “I can tell you that at the book’s opening Fasheem and Jessica were speaking of the dangers of childbirth, but had-” She stopped short unsure of if she should be saying it. “I apologize to you both, but my credibility is on the line. They had decided to move forward with trying.”
“She's right.” Jessica didn't embellish, but the smile she gave Ciara felt reassuring and supportive.
“Jameson was out on a scouting mission, looking to see the validity behind the claim that it was actually Heaven that would cause the Apocalypse if they grew displeased with humanities behavior.” Jameson grinned and patted her on the back.
“Yep that sure was what I was doing. Ten points to Ciara. Well twenty I guess because of the other.”
She smiled, having their belief was important and Fasheem seemed less skeptical as he sat staring. “Stryder was, well in hell.” She lowered her gaze and looked down at her feet through her lashes. “He'd gone to talk to War and for whatever the reason, never made it.”
The disgruntled grunt from next to her seemed to be all the commitment Stryder was willing to offer. She'd wanted to question him about that, but hadn't known where to start. She had her own ideas now that she knew him, perhaps he was looking for an out? It didn't matter now, he would share on his own time.
“Demarcus had the most information of course. You were with the demon female who had taken care of you as you grew. She's different than other demons- pampered for her stationing, but seemingly kind in comparison to some of the things I'd read. She was trying to coax you into living down there and you told her it was easier to kill and escort the dead if you were already on Earth to gather the soul.” She had loved that scene, had felt like she was standing against a wall watching a real interaction.
“She's kinder. But not kind. Something to do with fake motherhood. Lucifer forced her to raise us like princes so we didn't decide to walk another path. Too late for that as I'm sure Stryder explained.”
She nodded.
“Well you have my vote.” They all chimed in and she sighed and sagged in the chair in relief.
“Now if I may, can I get some clarification from you about some things?”
Demarcus nodded, ever the leader.
“First, just what is the Initiative? I'm not quite that far, in fact all I know is Jonathan has a truly traumatic past with your kind. Oh dear, was that rude?”
Demarcus laughed and grinned. “Not rude at all. We aren't human after all. Well Jess is, but she's only half demon so we don't count her.” She saw Jess scowl playfully out of the corner of her eye. “From what we know, the group is the original Knights of the Round Table.”
Her eyes widened, did that mean they were considered valiant and just? She didn’t get to ask, Demarcus kept talking and she forced herself to listen.
“I’d bet someone’s always been someone hell bent on removing all demons from the Earth, but that’s the first time we ran into them. Before you ask if aren't we all bad look around. There's shades of grey with every creature and there are plenty of demons living just to live. Albeit not the ones running through hell. But this group doesn't discriminate. A demon is a dead demon if in their path.”
She nodded and felt a pang of sorrow. Hate was ugly everywhere. “And what about the specifics of your world? I mean I know the book was generated in the last year, but it doesn't say everything.”
“Well our president is Mr. Northdam.”
Same as hers.
“America has fifty states and D.C. as her capital. There are seven continents that humans know of. Then there are the two you don't, so I suppose those don't even matter. Hmm, three hundred sixty-five days in a year, twenty-four hours in a day. What else ya need? Oh bacon is the best food ever, next to Chipotle.” His eyes sparkled as he grinned at her and she was shocked Demarcus could be so playful, he hadn't seemed the type in his story.
It seemed once more she had found a world that was almost parallel to hers, again. Her eyes drifted to Stryder's and he was staring at her, causing her own thoughts to drift and crash into nothing but flashes of memory of them in bed together. Was that really only last night? Had it truly only been a few weeks since this all started?
“Ciara?”
She shook her head clearing her thoughts and turned to see Demarcus staring questioningly at her. She flushed. “I'm sorry. I was in my own head. This is all so much to take in.” She bit her lower lip out of embarrassment. “I have only ever seen one other world and it was when I was younger. I find myself dying to see what's different here only to learn nothing. I sometimes feel bitter that I'm not picking some fantastic outer space world to visit.” The lie slipped so easily off her tongue she worried what other bad habit she’d picked up recently. Well most of it was a lie at least, she really did want to see a world different from her own on a fundamental level.
She heard them all chuckle. “I was asking how you handled my knucklehead of a brother.”
Her face paled and her eyes darted to Stryder, panic written on her face. “And I told him you handle me like an expert.” He winked and gave her that damned smirk and she wanted to smack him.
“Oh yes it's not too hard to know how to deal with an obstinate child. Sooner or later we've all dealt with one.” She leaned back in the chair, crossed her arms and returned his smirk just as she heard Jameson's whoop of laughter over the others.