Eternal Rider

by Larissa Ione

  “Does the victim’s soul replace the shadow after it earns its freedom?”

  “No.”

  “Can he get different armor?”

  Ares shook his head. “None of us can. It’s part of us, like our horses and our curses.”

  “What’s Limos’s curse?”

  Ares turned to Cara, his breath catching at the sight of her standing there in the breeze, her lips rosy, her silky hair blowing around her shoulders. It was hard to believe she’d lifted his heavy ass off the ground, especially given the dark crescents under her eyes. She looked exhausted, and at the same time, so very alive that he had to remind himself she was dying, no matter how strong she appeared to be.

  They die. You love them, and then they die. That’s what’s going to happen to you, Cara. You’re going to die, and then I’m going to— God, he couldn’t believe he’d lost it like that. He never exposed himself, but Cara had dismantled his defenses, and he wondered how much of it was due to his proximity to the agimortus, and how much of it was just… her.

  He had to clear his throat to continue. “Limos becomes a danger to herself. When she’s drawn to famine of any kind—a lack of food, medicines, water—she falls into a deep depression and becomes self-destructive.” It had always taken Reseph to get her out of it.

  “And Reseph?”

  “He was drawn to disease, plague. He would… become that disease. In order to rid himself of it, he had to kill someone with it. If he didn’t, he’d spread the disease wherever he went. Now that he’s Pestilence, he can cause whatever disease he wants, more potent and faster-spreading than its natural counterpart.” His cell buzzed, and he checked it, cursed at the note from Kynan.

  Where are you? You’d think Horsemen would be a little more prompt.

  Hard to believe, but Aegi had actually gotten more annoying over the centuries.

  Smiling tightly, he took Cara’s hand. “You ready to do this?”

  “Yep.” Cara’s big eyes took him in… she looked like that damned Puss-in-Boots cat in Shrek, all cute and heart-melting. The way she’d looked when she’d told him that she saw more in him than a killing machine. But how could she? No one had seen him as more than that. Even Ares’s sons had looked up to him as a great warrior they wanted to be like when they grew up.

  He made a disgusted noise. As much as he really wanted to take her in his arms, he couldn’t. They were at war, and she still needed a lot of toughening up if she was to survive. You’re one to talk. You’re softening as much as your armor when she’s around.

  “Ares,” Cara said, just as he opened his mouth to summon Battle. “Who did you lose?”

  “What?”

  “You said humans die.” She squeezed his hand, might as well have squeezed his breath out of his lungs. “Who died?”

  Damn her. He didn’t want to answer, but words spilled out of his mouth. “My wife. My brother. My two sons.” When those Puss-in-Boots eyes went liquid, he ended it, right then and there. “Don’t you pity me. Don’t you dare.”

  Her chin came up. “Don’t you tell me how to feel.”

  Okay, so he wanted her to toughen up, but her bravery might just veer into foolhardy territory with the wrong person. “You know I could crush you.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  “Why, because I need to protect you?”

  “No.” She poked him in the breastplate. “Because you gave me a pillow.”

  He blinked. This female’s logic was whacked, as Reseph would have said. “You’re gambling your life on a pillow?”

  “I don’t doubt that you’ll do what you have to do to save the world. You’ll make hard choices. But you don’t grab a pillow for someone you would have no problem killing.” She snagged his wrist and flicked her finger over the lines that defined Battle’s flank, and Ares sucked air at the sensation of his hips and ass being caressed. “You going to let him out or not?”

  On his arm, Battle kicked, as if hearing her. Shit. “Battle, out.”

  Battle appeared, and wouldn’t you know, instead of nudging Ares in greeting, he nuzzled Cara. “Hey, buddy,” she purred, and the stallion rubbed against her even more. Stupid horse.

  “Come on,” Ares growled. “Cara, I’ll help you up—”

  Battle kneeled. He fucking kneeled. Cara shot Ares a taunting grin and climbed into the saddle. Battle went back up on his hooves, and as Cara scooted forward, Ares swore Battle smiled, too.

  Muttering obscenities, Ares swung up onto the horse, wrapped one arm around Cara’s waist, and opened a Harrowgate. “I’m going to materialize a few blocks from the coordinates.” He inhaled, took in her clean, floral scent, and instantly, his body reacted in a way that only happened when he was heading into a conflict. His heart pounded, his adrenaline surged, and damn, he wanted to throw down with her. If I want to have sex, it’s not your place to tell me I can’t handle it. He stifled a miserable groan. “I don’t want to leap into a trap. I also want Battle available if there’s trouble.”

  Especially since being this close to Cara meant that his armor and weapons would be all but useless. Sort of like his brain.

  “Trouble?”

  She was trouble. “I don’t trust Aegi. And I wouldn’t be surprised to find Pestilence lurking.”

  “You have a real fun family, you know that? I thought mine was odd.”

  Battle started toward the gate, but Ares tugged on the reins. She’d said she was alone, with no one to care if she lived or died. Why had he not asked about family before? Maybe because he was a callous bastard who’d forgotten what it was like to be human.

  “I thought you said you had no family.”

  “My mom died of cancer when I was young, and my dad passed away a couple of years ago.” Cara twisted around so she could see him, her eyes taking on the color of the water around his island, and he wanted to dive in. “I have an older stepsister from my dad’s second marriage, but we fought a lot, and I haven’t seen her or my stepmom since the funeral.”

  “And you said you don’t have a boyfriend?”

  “If I had, you wouldn’t have touched me in the shower.”

  Inexplicably pleased by that, he urged Battle into the Harrowgate. The stallion stepped out into a foggy evening that came straight out of The Hound of the Baskervilles. Fitting, seeing how they were fetching a hellhound. Car lights sped toward them, and Cara yelped.

  “They’re going to hit us!”

  “We’re on another plane. We’re not only invisible to humans, but we’re formless.”

  “I thought you made it so people froze.”

  “I can do that, too. Or I can enter the world and exist just as humans do.”

  “But then they can see you.”

  “Yes, but I told you my presence makes people want to fight.”

  “And I told you that I can completely understand that,” she said, and he had to smile. He smiled even wider when she leaned into him. Even through his armor he could feel her heat. He wanted to feel more of her. Less of her. Dammit, he didn’t know what he wanted, and he’d never been indecisive.

  Losing the teenage-crush grin, he spurred Battle into a canter, and they rode to a country estate that wasn’t visible from the road. The property was fenced by a low stone wall, and Ares would bet his left nut that the perimeter was warded against evil or supernatural creatures. No ward affected him, but certain ones could propel him out of the khote.

  Not that he was worried about it. His concern was about traps. He wouldn’t put it past The Aegis to want to contain both him and Cara in the name of “keeping them safe.” The Aegis always did have an overblown sense of its power and abilities, thinking only they were capable of making the big decisions. Those egotistical bastards would suck their own dicks if they could.

  Ares guided Battle around the perimeter, and though he located concealed stones etched with protective, magical symbols, he found no evidence of a trap. With a command, he released the khote.

  “I felt that,” Cara murmured. �
��We’re visible now, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah. No doubt we’re being watched.” As they approached the wrought iron gate, it creaked open. “Definitely watched.”

  An eerie howl drifted through the mist, and Cara sat forward in the saddle, which shifted her ass firmly against his groin, and he bit down on his tongue. Holy Heaven, he burned for her.

  “It’s Hal.”

  The reminder that they were going to rescue a hellhound she was bonded to turned his inner fire down a notch.

  Ahead, a vine-choked manor materialized out of the fog. Outbuildings dotted the grassy field behind it, and in front, standing at attention, were a dozen or so humans, including Kynan. A cage had been placed on the drive, centered on top of a salt pentagram.

  Instant, raw hatred scoured Ares’s veins, as if they ran with hot sand instead of blood. Every bone in Ares’s body wanted to slaughter the thing and send it to Chaos in pieces—the way Ares had found his brother and sons.

  Stomping his hooves, Battle tossed his head. He hated hellhounds as much as Ares, and the hostile vibes being thrown off by the Guardians weren’t making the stallion any calmer.

  “Easy, boy,” he murmured. “We’re not going to fight today.” Too bad, too, because Ares was as juiced as his horse, though he had to credit Cara for some of that. He brought Battle to a halt ten yards from the Guardians.

  “Ares.” Kynan stepped forward. Most of his crew were watching with awe, but they also were wary, their fingers flexing as if preparing to go for the weapons tucked in their leather shoulder harnesses. That would be a huge mistake. He swept his hand behind him. “These are our Yorkshire cell Guardians.”

  Ares swung down from Battle. “They look thrilled to meet me.”

  “Trust me,” Kynan said with a wry smile, “they’ll be talking about you for months.”

  He snorted. “Years.”

  A very pregnant female waddled out of the house, her black Goth clothing matching her black and blue striped hair. Kynan reached his hand out to her while keeping an eye on Ares. “This is my wife, Gem. I brought her with me because she’s due any minute.”

  The female rubbed her belly. “That minute is now.”

  Kynan’s sharp intake of breath was audible even over Hal’s whining. “Are you sure? We have to call Eidolon. And Shade. He’s your pain management, right? And Tayla. Have you called Tay?”

  Ares had always thought the fatherly panic was fiction—when his own sons were born, he’d been told by messenger weeks after the births. But had he been there, he doubted he would have freaked out. During that time, men had little to do with pregnancies and birthing and babies, and as long as everyone survived the ordeal, it was all good.

  Gem’s smile turned into a wince. “I just got off the phone with her. I told her my water broke, so the guys are heading to the hospital.”

  “Your water broke?” Kynan patted down his pockets, maybe searching for a phone or keys. “We have to get you to UG.”

  UG? She was a demon, then. One of the leaders of a demon-hunting organization was married to a demon? Maybe The Aegis had changed.

  “We’ll be getting the hound and leaving, then,” Ares said, and nearly had a heart attack when he looked over at the cage, where Cara was already on her knees and hugging the animal through the bars. Didn’t matter that the canine was bonded to her—it could still kill her. Maybe. Ares didn’t know. Shit, he had to get his emotions under control. Think like a soldier.

  Which wasn’t easy, given Cara’s proximity.

  “Uh… lady, you might not want to get that close,” one of the Guardians called. All of the Aegi watched, bug-eyed and freaked out. Even Gem, who was in labor, wasn’t budging no matter how hard Kynan tugged on her.

  Finally, he scooped her into his arms. She wound her arm around his shoulders and nuzzled his ear, and deep in Ares’s gut, something kindled. Longing? Envy? His wife hadn’t been affectionate at all. Attentive, yes, but they had never shared intimate moments like that, and as Kynan peered down at his wife’s swollen belly, his expression was a mix of worry, joy, and love.

  Ares’s eyes shifted to Cara, and he actually had to swallow a lump in his throat.

  Get your head out of your arse. He could hear his father’s bark, could swear a blow struck his cheek from his father’s backhand. The bastard had long been in the grave, and he still had the power to reach out and try to put Ares in his place.

  For the first time, Ares welcomed his father’s interference. He couldn’t afford to let Cara matter to him. She was going to die. Even if she didn’t die because of the agimortus, she’d die long before he did, even with the hellhound bond. A couple of hundred years was a fruit fly’s lifespan for immortals.

  And what the fuck was he running through the scenarios for? Love was not an option for him. It never had been. Caring for someone made you weak. Made you make stupid decisions. He’d seen it all over the centuries; men losing property, wars, their very lives over the love of a woman.

  Idiots.

  “William, you handle this.” Kynan awkwardly fished keys out of his pocket. “I’ll leave the Rover near Woodacre.”

  There was a Harrowgate there, but it was still ten miles away. “Kynan.” Ares threw open a gate just outside the property fence. “Take it. You’ll come out at Underworld General.”

  Gem peeked over Kynan’s shoulder to admire Ares’s handiwork. “That is so cool. I want that power.”

  Kynan eyed the Harrowgate with distrust, until Gem socked him in the shoulder. “Hello! Do you want me to drop this kid right here? The baby is charmed, remember? As long as it’s in my belly, nothing can hurt me.”

  Kynan shot Ares a look that said, “If you land us in a Sheoul blood pit, you’re dead,” and then he sauntered to the gate, stepping through after only a second of hesitation.

  Ares moved closer to Cara, but when the fucking mutt went insane, snarling and snapping at him, he halted. Battle didn’t. He charged the cage, and before Ares could stop him, he reared up to smash the crate and hound to bits.

  Cara leaped to her feet, put herself between the two-thousand-pound warhorse and the iron cage.

  “No!” Ares’s shout came out in a deep, horrified rumble as Battle came down hard enough to make the ground tremble.

  He’d stopped mere inches from crushing Cara. She stood there, not even flustered, and took Battle’s face in her hands. The horse calmed immediately, but Ares was shaking like a leaf, and his fear morphed abruptly into anger.

  “Goddammit,” he snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking, Cara? He could have killed you.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that.” She glared at him while stroking Battle’s cheeks. “Obviously, I’m fine.”

  The Guardians shrunk back, twitchy fingers poised over their weapons. Great. They now thought he was not only incompetent, but an asshole as well. Snarling, he held out his arm. “Battle, to me.”

  The horse let out a furious whinny that lingered in the air even after he’d settled on Ares’s skin.

  “That,” Cara huffed, “was unnecessary.”

  “No,” he ground out, “it wasn’t. When you released the mongrel, there would have been trouble.”

  “I could have handled it.”

  “I handled it. Now let’s do this.” He turned to the Guardians. “You had best watch from inside the house.”

  They retreated, and he gave Cara the go-ahead. “Lever on top should open the cage.” Casually, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, even though he couldn’t injure the animal for fear of affecting Cara.

  She gave the lever a shove, and the door rattled open. The hellhound bounded out, pounced, and took Cara to the ground. Ares’s heart jammed into his throat, but when Cara let out a delighted squeal and the dog bathed her face in sloppy kisses, it became clear that there was no danger here. No danger to her, anyway.

  Hal lifted his head momentarily to peel back his lips in a silent warning aimed at Ares, and Ares returned it, hoping his hatred came across lo
ud and clear. Dealing with this bastard was not going to be fun.

  “Cara, let’s go. I don’t like you being this exposed.”

  She told Hal to let her up, and he tore off across the lawn. “He needs to run. Maybe we could walk to the gate instead of ride? Give him a chance to stretch his legs?”

  “Cara—”

  “Please?”

  It went against his better judgment, but Cara had been through so much, with little of it in her control, that he could do this one thing for her, he supposed.

  Two heartbeats later, his own words, barked out at soldiers, rang through Ares’s head like a death knell. Never let a woman sway you. Never. Or I promise you’ll regret it.

  Seventeen

  Cara and Ares strolled across the grounds toward the gate, his pace purposeful, hers more leisurely, and he kept having to slow down and wait for her. But dammit, this was the first time she’d felt a little normal in days, and walking across a huge expanse of grass while Hal bounded around chasing birds just felt good. Relaxing, even.

  “Why don’t you like hellhounds?” she asked, and Ares let out a soft growl.

  “I don’t not like them.” Even loaded down with armor and weapons, he moved like a predator down the drive, his sharp eyes in constant motion, nostrils flaring as though seeking the scent of danger. “I hate them with every cell in my body.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  He swung around to her, his big body pulsing with menace, but she was instinctively aware that his mood wasn’t directed at her. “One of them killed my brother and sons.”

  “How awful.” A lump clogged her throat, and she had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. “What did you do?”

  “I chased that motherfucker through the centuries. Slaughtered some of his packmates, but never managed to kill him. Eventually, he and his pack got one up on me, paralyzed me with a bite, and then spent days eating me alive.”

  Oh, God. “They… ate you?”

  “Thanks to my ability to regenerate, yes. I fed them well, and I felt every bite. When one of them ripped my leg off at the hip joint, I couldn’t even pass out from the agony. And then I got to watch them gnaw on it, right beside my head.”