The Four Horsemen_Chaos

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The Four Horsemen_Chaos Page 14

by LJ Swallow


  Because the girl who walked out of this room is not the one who I opened up to and gave myself to.

  The opposite door opens and Seth stands wide-eyed, fully clothed.

  "What did you do?" he hisses.

  I snap my head back. "None of your business, mate."

  "Did you argue? I heard you argue. Is that why she walked away?" I stare at his reddening face. "Please tell me that's the reason, and that you didn't—"

  "Assault her? Is that what you're about to say?" I step forward, the suggestion I'd ever hurt Vee building anger in my belly. "I would never touch her without consent."

  He flicks a gaze over me and narrows his eyes. "Did it happen?"

  "Did what happen?"

  He lowers his voice. "You and her. Did you screw her?"

  Bad move. I grab Seth’s jacket in both hands and drag his face close to mine. His breath stinks of the alcohol that's caused this issue. "Watch your mouth."

  "You have!" He tears at my fingers. "Do you know what you've done, you fucking idiot?"

  Seth’s face reddens, drunken eyes suddenly switching to a glittering anger, and I drop his collar and stand back as he drags fingernails across my hands.

  "Fuck!" Seth yells, his voice echoing along the small hallway. He turns his back and walks away from me hands behind his head, elbows at right angles. "Fuck!"

  Yeah, fuck this weirdo; I need to find Vee. Now. I turn away and pick up my pace to leave.

  “Don’t you walk away from me!” Seth spits.

  I choke a laugh and turn back. “Mate, seriously, you’re lucky I’m not punching you to the ground for what you just said. I need to find Vee. I’ll deal with you later.”

  Seth’s expression shifts, transforming into an anger that makes his features unrecognisable. I've seen many things in Seth’s expression I think the others missed, but never a shaking fury to match Xander's. There’s no sign of the pathetic, drunk guy I left in his room earlier.

  "Deal with me?" Seth shouts. “You have no fucking chance of dealing with me. None of you morons do.”

  I ready a retort, unprepared for his next move. Seth strides over and shoves me in the chest with both hands. The world blurs and I find myself halfway along the hallway, landing heavily on my backside, as he hits me like a truck.

  What the fuck?

  I push my arms behind me attempting to sit, and Seth strides over. Without pausing, he kicks me in the stomach with an unnatural force and the pain screams through my body. "You shouldn't have done that! You've fucked up everything!"

  I struggle to breathe after the blow and can’t move. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" And how?

  Seth sneers down, and I attempt to tackle him to the ground, arms around his legs, but he slips through them like the snake he is. I drag myself to my feet and support myself against the wall, doubling over as I take painful breaths. I’ve been kicked before, many times, but this feels like he’s pummelled my insides. "I knew it," I gasp. "I fucking knew you were trouble.”

  I study him. He’s the same man, the same body, but something’s wrong. The brute force he hit me with isn’t human, nor is the person looking at me through those eyes. Hell, I’ve looked into enough eyes in my time here to know when something isn’t human, and there’s a hollow darkness; one I’ve not seen before.

  I take a deep breath and wince. “What are you? How did you hit me that hard?"

  Seth leans in and places his face close to mine. "I guess I don't know my own strength." Then, right in my face, he gives the sly smile, the one I see when nobody else does. “Like Xander, if I lose my temper things don't go so well for the people around me."

  "Are you a demon? How come Joss and Vee didn't know?"

  Seth's face sours. "Please. I'm nothing like those low lives.” He pulls away. “One thing I'm in total agreement with is demon scum shouldn't be in this world."

  I don't scare easily. I've stared down enough demons to see them as part of my job, but whatever stands in front of me now projects an energy that fills the corridor and sucks oxygen from the room. His eyes blacken and an energy shimmers around him to match the light I see around Vee sometimes.

  Is he suffocating me? Or is my tight chest and struggle breathing genuine fear? I steady myself on the wall and stare back. The weak human I suspected worked for someone, who I swore I could take out, isn’t even human. I don't know what the hell he is, but this is no demon.

  "What are you then? Fae?"

  Seth rests against the wall next to me, then holds out his palms towards me, but this is no gesture of surrender. I focus on gathering my strength to move as I watch the space in front of him blacken, as if somebody dragged the light and air away, until all that remains resembles a dark, starless sky.

  He stares at the void. "Nope. There's only one person in this world more powerful than me, and she just walked out of the door. And that’s really fucking inconvenient for me."

  I shuffle back as fast as I can as he turns his palms in my direction. The dark space grows around us both, obliterating everything as if somebody scrawled out the world with a black marker pen.

  Holy shit.

  Seth drops his hands with a satisfied look as he laughs at my fear, and the consuming darkness snaps away too. "I'd kill you, but there's no point until I've killed your friend Death and, of course, made sure Vee never fulfils the destiny they gave her."

  Still doubled over, I continue to edge back along the wall, but the pain won’t stop spreading through. I bow my head and concentrate on summoning energy I’m shocked I don’t have.

  “What happened to her?”

  “You fucked her and now you’ve fucked things up for me.” He rubs his temples. “I guess I’d better bring forward my plans now.”

  His words seethe anger through me, and I look upwards and picture how I could attack him. Do I have the power?

  "Don't even think about it, Ewan. Believe me, you’d wish you could die if I really hurt you." His glittering black eyes meet mine again. "I’m saving that fun. I cannot wait to take down that condescending arsehole, War. That will be the highlight of the show, and you can be the encore."

  I remain slumped against the wall, unable to move further.

  Seth grabs my hair and yanks my head upwards, face in mine again. "I guess this is a tender goodbye for now. Shame this happened before Syv found what I needed and the time was right."

  “Get the fuck off me,” I snarl.

  "You were very intuitive, by the way, which surprised me because I thought you were incapable of thinking for yourself." Seth pats me on the cheek. “Clever boy, you almost figured me out.”

  He releases my hair and steps back, and I stare as he closes his eyes, and the void I saw before grows around him. The space where Seth stood empties as his figure disintegrates and merges with the darkness.

  I slump back to the floor, gripping my stomach, filled with a fear, but not only for myself.

  What the hell is he?

  23

  XANDER

  Heath rests against the wall, to the left of a door, knife in hand. I rest against the right-hand side, door between us.

  We tracked Logan and Breanna through the house. They didn’t go far, downstairs, to the right of the conference room where Alasdair gave his introduction earlier, and down an opposite hallway. We followed at a distance until they walked into the room in front of us now. The situation is ridiculous. I’m ninety percent sure they knew we were behind them—as planned.

  Heath nods, a silent signal that we enter and face down whatever and whoever is inside. At moments like this, I always feel a weird surge of anticipation, a build-up to dealing with the unknown on the other side of a door or around a corner. This is the closest I get to experiencing rawer human reactions, or they were until I met Vee.

  Pulling my knife too, I yank open the door and step in, Heath by my side, and immediately scan the room for which threat to take out first.

  Two men and a woman sit around a large conference table,
carafes of water in front of them, alongside glasses, half-full. Each sits with arms on the table in front, talking, as if taking part in a company meeting.

  The guy sitting in the centre holds up a hand to stop the others talking.

  Alasdair.

  Then I focus on the man beside him.

  Logan.

  Next to him, Breanna.

  Heath drops his knife to the floor, and as my triggered power launches strength into every muscle, I hear the familiar crackle that comes with his conjured power. Easy. We do this, help Alasdair, and leave.

  "Boys, please. Stand down. I'm not about to do anything."

  I cock my head. Alasdair sounds different. The Scottish accent is missing and as he smiles back, his eyes transform into pure black, with an orange slit resembling a cat’s eye. Something shudders through my body and into my soul.

  There’s only one entity I know who has eyes like this.

  I've met this demon before. Not occupying this body, but in another I almost destroyed, when he escaped before I had a chance to finish the job.

  In the past, we downplayed who this powerful demon is, and his strength, by nicknaming him the Big Bad. We’ve battled him once, as the four of us, and after an exhausting fight taking out his demon protectors, he escaped. He’s the centre of the Order, who draws on his power to create more demons when we slay others. His power isn’t infinite, and he’s working to get his boss—whoever he is—into the world from beyond the portals.

  Our lives are one big game of cat and mouse, where we find and lose him over and over.

  As the Order’s influence grows throughout government and industry, our ability to keep up with him drops away.

  This is who I suspect left us the message on the car and who’s been killing the humans—and us.

  This is Ripley, the Moriarty to our Sherlock selves.

  He stands and spreads his arms out in greeting. "I won’t do anything untoward, although I owe you a death after what happened the last time we met. You killed some of my best."

  "Ripley?" I ask to confirm.

  "The same."

  How fucked are we? If I'd had any suspicions this is what we were walking into, I would've found the other guys first.

  Heath swears under his breath, and suddenly our pathetic weapons are pointless.

  "Unusual for you to be out of your ivory tower and unprotected," I snap. "Where are your little minions?" I point at Breanna. “One won’t do you much good.”

  Breanna’s red painted lips broaden into a smile. “I’m not just any demon, sweetheart.”

  Ripley sighs. "I know. I’ve chosen a new profile. Just recently actually." He blinks back to his human eyes and gestures at himself. “Not as strong as I’d like, but he’s good looking vessel and not so bad for his age.” I frown at him, so he turns to Breanna. “Don’t you think?”

  They share a laugh, and I bristle.

  “I like to keep my identity well hidden because some are better at finding me than you four idiots are. I currently need to shift from host to host almost daily. It’s exhausting, but I’ve managed to stay safe. The problem is I have to choose less than perfect specimens to hold me.”

  I study him. Yeah, the guy usually chooses playboy types, or people with influence. Those who can get him what he wants, or allow him close to plenty of people to corrupt. “And kill them daily?”

  "I'm still Alasdair. Well, kind of. He's still in here. I'm being nice and didn’t eradicate him first.” He gives another smile. “The guy has such beautifully altruistic motives, how could I kill him? He’s been so helpful too, even before he lent me his body.” He gestures at the seat opposite. "Sit."

  "I'd rather stand, thanks," Heath replies.

  Ripley shrugs. "But how can we have a discussion if you won't join in our meeting?"

  I switch to glare at Logan. "Does Portia know you're here?"

  Logan raises brow. "What do you think?"

  "So you're working with him?" I jab a finger at Ripley. "I had my suspicions! All that shit you said about Vee."

  He shakes his head. "I'm not taking those words back, and I have plenty more to tell you, should you want to listen."

  "What's the deal?" interrupts Heath. "Why are you with the Order?"

  Ripley sits back in his seat and folds his arms on the table. "Because we need to help each other. Portia won't listen to Logan's suggestions that she forms an alliance with us. We're hoping you’ll be more sensible."

  "Sensible?" I laugh. "A demon tried to kill Portia, remember? I think that might just’ve put her off."

  "Not one of mine," replies Alasdair.

  "Oh sure, you never attack fae. Not your style." I sneer at him.

  "Not this time. The attack was planned by somebody intending to push us and the fae further apart. Somebody had too much influence over a small group of demons and had whispered too many promises. That group were stupid, and they're gone."

  "I don't believe you."

  "It's true," says Logan. "And I know things have been orchestrated against you too. Danger surrounds you all.”

  I pull myself to full height. “Are you talking about about Vee? Because if you’re threatening her you’ll have to come through me first.”

  The arsehole fae laughs at me. If the table wasn’t between us, I’d show him exactly what I think about him betraying his race.

  Ripley bangs a hand on the table. "We're short of time. Let’s have the conversation and then these gentlemen can decide what to do. Sit."

  I cross my arms. "No. Whatever trick you're trying to pull won't work. If you’re involved with Nova Pharm, you'll know about the humans investigating your activities. You identified them and killed them. Why? What did they uncover?"

  "Nothing. Sit." His voice is firmer, but no self-titled demon overlord tells me what to do. "Or not. Really, War, you need to listen."

  "To you?" I laugh harshly. "Heath? Do we stay? Or leave and figure out a way to take these guys out."

  I don't take my eyes from Ripley's, whose lips curl in amusement. "Listen to me."

  "Why?"

  "Because I have the answer to all your questions. I've had people watching what's been happening to you. I've seen you run around in circles chasing your tails, completely oblivious." He pauses. "I've also watched your Fifth arrive, and this worries me. But one thing at a time."

  "Yeah, we've come across your attempts to kill us. How long until you realise a Horseman’s death is never permanent?"

  "Me?" He touches his chest in mock horror. "I haven't tried to kill you. Currently, it isn't in my interests to piss you off."

  I turn my attention to Logan. "You? Was it you trying to divide our alliance with Portia? With each other?"

  He watches me in his haughty way. "I don't trust any outside the fae—you or them—but somebody needs to take charge here. Portia's in denial and won't listen when I tell her darker forces are at work."

  "Darker than him?" I point at Ripley. "You know he kills humans and fae in his quest to overthrow the world?"

  "Please, Alexander, don't be so dramatic."

  "Xander," I growl. "So you deny you're wrapping your evil tendrils around every important part of human society and paving the way for your demon leader to breach the portal?"

  "Again, far too simplistic and not the most important thing on my agenda right now."

  "So what is? Joining Logan to overthrow Portia and get your claws into the fae? Attempting to be rid if us? We won't let that happen."

  "Believe me, once this larger threat is dealt with, I'll be back to my usual activities, but if this continues, none of us will survive."

  "This?"

  "Chaos," puts in Logan.

  "And what's causing the chaos? Normally it's you, Ripley."

  "No. Chaos." Logan straightens. "We are dealing with something much more powerful than Ripley, or anything else that has threatened the world before. That’s why I’m working with him."

  Ripley nods in agreement. "Yes. This new threat pr
edates our arrival here and he has no interest in anything apart from destroying the world he created."

  I blink. "Who? Is this Biblical stories again? Are you talking about God?"

  "No, we're talking about Chaos. He's an old god, not yours. He didn't just create the world, he is the world. This entity is the explosive chaos that began everything in the universe. Compared to him, your God is a toddler."

  "I don't have a God," I reply.

  "Of course you don't." Ripley smiles sweetly.

  I glance at Heath as he pulls out a chair and sits. "Are you saying something is in this world who wants to end it? Like an—"

  "Apocalypse?" interrupts Logan.

  "How?"

  "By opening every portal at once and allowing each race living in the realms behind them to enter this world. Chaos will unleash one hell of a war. The human population will be destroyed, cities razed, the whole planet polluted and decimated to suit the victor’s needs. Then, Chaos will take hold and reign. There will be no portals, no universe, nothing, just his dark power looking over the devastation left."

  I shake my head at Logan's words, despite the growing anxiety gripping my chest. "Bullshit."

  "I think you believe us. You have to admit what you've fought recently is harder than anything I've been able to throw at you." He taps his fingers on the table. "Unfortunately."

  “You’re not responsible for what happened to Ewan? Joss?” I ask.

  Ripley smiles. “No. If I was, I would’ve used that to my advantage long before now. You know that.”

  "Where is Chaos?” asks Heath. "How do we fight him?"

  I stare at Heath. "You don't believe them do you? This is a trick. Is this because you want Vee? Is it all to do with her?"

  "I think this is why she's here. Without her, we don't stand a chance. If she reaches full power, Chaos doesn’t stand a chance,” Ripley replies.

  “We hope,” adds Logan.

  "How?"

  “My friend Breanna has a gift for translating old texts.” Ripley gestures at her. “The problem is, the Collector has many of them, including the book with the runes and descriptions of what they do and how they operate. We need all the information and we only have half. Brianna could translate them for us.”

 

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