I smiled, not speaking, but revved my engine a bit. The Demon jumped back as the piercing sound of a horse filled the night. I blinked. No way was a cop nearby. I turned to look and caught my reflection in one of the side mirrors of a crushed car.
And my heart stopped.
Where I stood was the most terrifying apparition I had ever seen.
A giant, shadowy cloaked figure with a wicked skull for a face stared back at me with eyes of green fire. And he was sitting atop a literal fiery-eyed, glowing green steed, not too unlike Grimm, my murderous pet unicorn. Huh. Who knew? A distant cousin, maybe? I discarded that train of thought, assessing my reflection. I looked friggin’ Awesome.
And now I knew for sure that the black cord led to the Demon.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, not betraying my true identity, remaining atop the Harley. “Even you know the Covenants.” I added, trying to sound official.
The Demon looked nervous. “We have broken no laws. I was summoned. My master required Temple’s blood. His lifeblood, not just a vial from a wound, in order to gain access to something he desires. I merely obeyed my commands. I broke no laws, Rider. Call your brothers and question me if you must.” He finished in wary resignation.
I blinked. First off, when had they figured out my blood was the Key, and second of all, how had they gotten my blood in the first place? I mean, I had liberally gotten my ass beat on an almost hourly basis over the last few days, but I didn’t think any of the Demons were smart enough to — nor had I seen them — take the time to snatch up a sample of my blood.
That was wizardry 101. Never leave blood behind.
Only one person had been with me when I entered the Armory. And that’s when I understood it all. Of course…
Othello.
She had also been a cat’s paw. Death had tried to warn me. It was somewhat comforting to know that he hadn’t been mistaken. Or lying. Othello was the only answer that made sense. She must have given them a sample of my blood from one of my various wounds.
To protect her innocent nephew.
Part of my heart broke. I wondered how they could have gotten to her nephew in the first place. Almost no one knew of our past relationship. And almost no one knew who she even was. Being a notorious cyber criminal kind of made that difficult.
I spoke in a clear, deep voice to the Demon. “The Armory.”
The Demon nodded, looking anxious to depart. A crack split the night as another figure suddenly appeared beside the Demon. The summoner. The puppeteer. I felt my heart rate increase in anticipation of what I was about to do to him. The Demon held out a clawed hand in my direction. “This was not part of our bargain, summoner. Our pact is ended. You never mentioned the Riders. Our contract is through.” The man nodded, not speaking, and the Demon sighed in relief, getting ready to vanish.
“Not so fast. You took something from me.” The Demon blinked in confusion, then tilted his head curiously.
“I have only heard of your reputation, Rider. We have never crossed paths.” He answered neutrally. Respectfully.
I smiled back, unsure whether he could see my pleasure or not. Oh well, this was solely for my enjoyment. I didn’t necessarily need him to know how pleased I was. He would discover that indirectly in the next few minutes.
I somehow tapped into the mantle of Death. It was actually very easy to do, which made me nervous on a very distant level. I was too immersed in the rivers of power that were suddenly coursing through my soul. I wielded the power like I was born with it, and used it to give the Demon a gift.
I gave him empathy…
Sympathy…
And guilt.
Then I sent him deep inside the pits of his own immortal mind to relive his most personal losses, failures, and heartbreaks.
Over and over again for eternity.
And it broke him.
The sound that tore from his throat seemed to break the very fabric of reality. I smiled as he withered to dust. The summoner watched, eyes widening slightly. I had a moment to wonder exactly how I knew how to use the power Death had lent to me. Was it something to do with me being a Maker? Similar to how I had learned to Shadow Walk? Since I had witnessed Death showing off a bit at the bar, perhaps? The summoner finally turned to me after toeing the ashes with a boot.
“Hello, Nate.” A very familiar voice spoke from beneath the hood. My skin turned to ice.
“Gavin.” I snarled. The Harley — Death’s horse — roared all on it’s own this time. I jumped down to my feet and was surprised to see that my legs worked perfectly fine. In fact, I didn’t feel any of my wounds. Which was good. They wouldn’t slow me down as I faced off against the man behind my parents’ murder. My Parole Officer from the Academy. The man who had been tasked with keeping innocent lives safe from me.
But he wasn’t safe from me.
In fact, he was entirely unsafe from me.
This made me deliriously happy on a subconscious level.
“So we come full circle. It’s just you and me, chucklehead.” I hissed excitedly as I killed the engine and pocketed the keys to the motorcycle, speaking with a voice that wasn’t completely my own.
Chapter 36
G avin peeled back his hood and smiled in response. “Not entirely.” He waved a hand and suddenly Othello was kneeling at his feet, tears streaming down her face. I didn’t know how long she had been there, but she seemed relatively unharmed. For now.
“It’s good to see you again. Othello, here, was quite the assistant over the last few days, even though she didn’t know who I was, or that she had met me several times as your Parole Officer.” He said the last word distastefully. “I do love using cat’s paws. I got the whole idea from the Angels and Demons. Using cat’s paws, you get to keep your own hands clean but still orchestrate everything. I rather like being a puppeteer. Not unlike how the Academy runs things.” His gaze grew distant for a moment, a frown crossing his features. “But they’ve gotten full of themselves and have forgotten their true purpose. I’m here to remind them what that purpose is.” His gaze grew feverish, imagining the chaos he would rain down on the ancient ruling body of wizards. I couldn’t wholeheartedly disagree with him. We did need a change. But maybe a nuclear reaction wasn’t the best opening move. “We needn’t be on opposite sides.” He finally continued.
“I don’t like the benefits package your side offers. Although I agree that the Academy is a group of doddering old senile men and women, I’m fine where I am.” I smiled genially. “And where you are. It makes it easier to kill you. Now, stand still for a second. It won’t take me but a moment.” I took an aggressive step forward.
He held up a finger. “You do know it’s immediate death for impersonating a Horseman. You can take off the costume any time now.” I didn’t move. He laughed. “Fine. If that’s what you wish to wear to your funeral, so be it. I won’t begrudge a man his fashion taste.” He appraised me curiously before his grin split wider. Then he clapped his hands together in applause. “Oh, this is delicious. It seems the Academy’s curse worked as intended. You’re powerless!” I remained silent. “Oh, you weren’t aware that they had every intention of it being permanent?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Those fools. But don’t concern yourself. I’ll deal with them next. In your name even, if you prefer. Seeing as you won’t be around to watch their fall.” His calculating eyes grew distant for a moment. “Now that I think about it, you would make an excellent martyr. A death for all the other wizards to rally behind. And I will champion the injustice shown to you. Yes, I can see it now. It’s neat. Tidy. Simple.”
I growled, tasting bile in the back of my throat. He began to circle Othello, playing with her hair distractedly. “I can tell that you don’t even have a drop of magic about you. Makes this less fulfilling. Like robbing candy from a child. How do you possibly hope to fight me? Tell you what, you give me what I want, and I’ll let the girl and her nephew live. I have no need for them anymore. It’s not like you can stop me any
more anyway. You’re dying. A few hours, tops.” He was right, of course, but I didn’t know how he knew. After all, I appeared wound free at the moment. Then I realized. Othello must have told him I was on my last leg. Maybe she had pleaded my case? Telling Gavin that I was already dead. To leave me alone.
One could hope.
One could also hope that she hadn’t told him about me being a Maker.
“Your impotence is astounding. No money, no friends, no magic. Tsk tsk.” He pointed at Othello. “Save their lives. At least you can do that. After all, it took so much work to turn everyone against you. A few files leaked to the cops, a few hints to Jafar at the Academy. You know, paperwork.”
I decided to play along. It wasn’t really that hard. I was exhausted, and Othello was there. I didn’t know how to reliably use any of my powers. One wrong move and Othello died.
My shoulders sagged. I suddenly had a thought, and felt all sorts of guilty for not doing it sooner. But I had had a lot on my mind, what with the general wounds and mayhem surrounding me. “Fine. You win. But allow me one thing.” He considered that curiously before nodding slowly. “Let me make one phone call.” He eyed me suspiciously. “Calm down. It’s just my girlfriend. I haven’t spoken with her for a few days. She’s out of town.”
“As are the rest of your friends.” He grinned knowingly. I began to feel uneasy. “It made things so much easier knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with your friends assisting you. It was quite easy to arrange for them all to be out of town. You really should be more paranoid. Did you never think it odd that they all had occasions to be out of town at the exact same time?” He asked with a grin, barely containing his laughter.
But… that meant a level of planning I could hardly conceive.
“You… you sent my friends away from me?” I whispered, almost heaving with fury.
“Yes.” His voice was filled with satisfaction. “It was really quite simple. Free airline tickets for the werewolf and your other friends. Well, Indie was rather difficult. Causing you those night terrors, I was confident she would run screaming from the psychopathic wizard she had only just begun to date after she found out that he never slept, and had nightmares that would make even Wes Craven envious. But they didn’t work. They tossed in a wedge, sure, but since she didn’t comply, I had to cause an… accident with her mother. It really was the only way.” He smirked at me.
“You son of a bitch” I lunged forward a few steps instinctively, ready to destroy every shred of his soul.
He held up a single hand, and a razor thin line of fire suddenly pulsated to life a hair away from Othello’s throat. She squirmed against the immense heat. “Ah, ah, ah, Nate. One more step and she dies. Quite painfully, I would imagine.”
I was quivering with anger as I slowly pulled the burner cell phone from my pocket. It didn’t matter now. The facts hadn’t changed. I was alone, and he would kill Othello if I didn’t comply. I had to give him my lifeblood. Samples wouldn’t work, so he needed all my blood. Voluntarily. I had known it would come to this, and I was a dead man walking anyway. I had come here strictly to save Othello. This was my lot. Time to be a man. But I would do it with all the dignity I could muster. He had me by the short hairs, so I did the only thing I could think of.
I called my girlfriend to tell her that I adored her.
My gaze grew watery as I contemplated what I wanted to say to her. She was my everything. The one who had held my hand in the darkness. Helped me through the worst time of my life. Inspired me to be good. To forget the awful nightmares of my parents dying. The one who wouldn’t let me be weak. My rock. My love. My life. I wanted to somehow tell her all of this. To thank her. To tell her I couldn’t have survived without her. I wanted to hear her sweet, silken voice. I wanted to tell her I loved her. And I wanted to hear her say it back.
The call instantly went to voicemail.
I was totally unprepared as the device beeped in my ear. “Um, Indie. I was just… look, I don’t really know how to say this on an answering machine. I wanted to hear your voice one last time. I’m in a tight spot and won’t be able to see you again. Just know that-” The phone shattered beside my ear. I jumped back with a yell, clutching my ear in pain, pulling my fingers away to find fresh blood.
“That was going to be a pathetic farewell message anyway. I saved her from listening to it. Let her remember her infamous Master Temple, not that sad sap who was leaving her a message just now.”
“If only I had my powers…” I began, my mind frantically trying to come up with a way out of this. He waved me off, appearing bored. My hopelessness loyally remained at my side to keep me company in my final moments. Othello cautiously lifted her red-rimmed eyes, trying not to disturb the fiery death resting at her throat, and began to mouth a single word. I think it was, Sorry... But then she saw my appearance and flinched, eyes widening. That’s right. She saw Death. How confusing was that?
Oh well. This wasn’t really a surprise, just frustrating that I hadn’t been able to dish out some revenge first. Maybe I would get to see my parents again.
Nothing had changed. I had already accepted my death earlier tonight.
If I’m not dead already, I thought idly to myself. After all, my body wasn’t even here. It was with the Horseman at the bar.
Wait a minute…
I was the Horseman.
“Goodbye, Nate.” And that was it. I didn’t even have time to feel the pain or apply deeper thought to my last revelation. A screaming ball of black flame struck me in the chest, and I immediately became one with the universe, little Nate-icles exploding out into the cosmos of existence at the same speed as the original elements had during the Big Bang.
Chapter 37
I floated in nothingness. I was nothingness. So, this is what it’s like to be a Buddhist, I thought idly, having a better appreciation for Asterion’s frequent rambling about balance, Zen, and Karma. It was rather… boring.
I began to examine my enlightened spiritual state more in depth. Who was I? What had been the purpose of my life? Was it all to end in this? Nothingness? Then I blinked, noticing something. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I wasn’t nothingness.
I was, in fact, sitting at the front of a small, rickety, one-man boat on a river of inky black water, floating through the darkest of nights towards nothingness.
Okay, this probably didn’t bode well.
Crack! The sound seemed to be swallowed by the darkness, but I still jumped like a little girl, rocking the boat slightly. It almost sounded like someone had opened a Budweiser behind me. Here I was, being all one with the universe-y, and someone was cracking open a cold one? Did they have no respect?
I turned in my boat, and flinched as I realized I wasn’t alone. Charon sat behind me.
The Boatman.
He was… extremely creepy up close, making me wonder how wise it was to have been friendly to him in my past life. A darkly stained, burlap robe covered his frame and continued in a shadowy hood over his head. He pulled the hood back and I instinctively leaned further away in alarm. His skin was the color of pure ivory, and parched like aged leather. His lips were sewn shut with a decidedly unhygienic, thick, knotted leather cord, and his eyes were glittering ebony gems. His hands were entirely skeleton, and they were rising towards me slowly…
To offer me a fresh can of beer.
Not knowing what else to do, I accepted it hesitantly. He nodded, and opened one for himself. He wasn’t rowing. Apparently he wanted to take a booze break between jobs of carting souls to the after-life. He lifted his can to me in salute then dumped it over his sewn-up mouth, maybe succeeding in drinking ten percent of the beer. It was… messy, liberally coating his chest in the frothy ‘Merican drink of choice.
“Good run.” He hissed in a rattlesnake on sandpaper voice, almost making me release control of my bowels in pure terror. His lips, after all, were sewn up tight. Then I realized that he had spoken entirely in my mind.
Once I had composed my f
right, I chose to reply out loud, not sure how good I was at the whole telepathy thing. “Uh, yeah. I guess.” I looked around. “So, this is it? Kind of dreary for Elysium.” He didn’t say anything. So I elaborated. “Because I’m 99% sure that’s where you’re supposed to be taking me. Not the other place. I hear it’s hot down there, and I’m not a huge fan of anything above 110 degrees.” I was babbling. He continued to watch me in silence.
“Should you be drinking on the job? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I asked.
“Just satisfying my appetite.” A sound like a dusty bag of leather being beaten with a stick emanated from his sewn up lips, and I realized he was chuckling. Even his laughter was frightening. I managed not to jump out of the boat and fend for myself in the pits of neverending woe that was known as the River Styx, the River of Souls.
This was the guy I had been so friendly to? He was downright terrifying. “Who’s going to tell me not to drink on the job? It’s not like anyone else wants to do this. It… what’s the word? Ah, yes. Sucks. But I have job security.” His voice of crumbling ashes pierced my mind. I wasn’t sure how long my sanity would be able to take the sound of Charon’s voice if he decided that he preferred to have a long, drawn out conversation with the wizard who had been so friendly with him in the past.
“I guess so. You are taking me to Elysium, or whatever you guys call it these days, right?” He shook his head. “I think I was pretty clear. I don’t think I’m supposed to go to the other place.”
Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) Page 32