On a Black Horse: An Apocalyptic Paranormal Romance (Revelations Book 3)

by Monica Corwin

Chapter 4

  Arwan’s heart beat a frantic rhythm in his chest and stomach, but he refused to sit back until she gave him a good enough answer. “I said, how did you know that?”

  Baldir chose his entrance perfectly, entering all smiles and light, only to jerk to a stop at the bathroom door. “What is it?”

  Arwan glanced at him from the corner of his eye never taking his attention from Katherine, “How does she know that Hel is dead?”

  Katherine cleared her throat and stood up, but Arwan grasped her wrist and stop her from leaving. “No, please, tell me.”

  “I’ll tell you but you should get dressed and medicated before.”

  He considered it. Clothing might make conversing easier, at least for them. He resigned himself to a life of nudity as a teenager in the 40s when he found himself naked and dirty under a tree in the forest. It was his first change into a hellhound. Afterward, he learned to be adaptable. “Fine, but don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation.”

  She jerked her wrist from his hand and leaned her face forward until the warm puff of her breath fanned across his cheeks. “I wouldn’t dream of it. And if you ever touch me like that again, I will gut you.”

  The honey sweet tone of her threat sent chills along his spine. She exited the bathroom without a backward glance.

  “Baldir, who the hell is she?”

  He did a nervous shuffle back and forth offering nothing, and Arwan sighed. “Fine, just help me get dressed. You are keeping things from me and that will stop.”

  After Baldir helped him slip into loose pajama pants Katherine bandaged his wounds and gave him a heaping dose of painkillers and antibiotics. She refused to look at him through the whole process. “I know nothing about how your body works, but this couldn’t hurt.”

  “Well, I suppose if I overdose at least I’ll be comfortable.”

  The corner of her lip tweaked up, but she turned away before he could catch a real smile. Why he cared was a mystery for another day.

  Baldir shifted the empty arm chair and sank into it. Katherine took the other.

  Arwan lay back into the bed but kept himself ready, his nerves were stretched tight, and the secrets, lies, and hiding had taken their toll. “Now, tell me.”

  Baldir cleared his throat. “Katherine is a horseman.”

  “What!” Arwan shouted before attempting to pull himself upright. They rushed to his side and pressed him back.

  “You need to rest,” Baldir ordered.

  He eyed Katherine and her hands pressing against his body. The sight twisted his gut. One of her kind touching him, it foreshadowed his death any second. “Get out of my house.”

  She met his gaze, and he noted the flicker of hurt before they cleared to neutral. A mask she had perfected, he assumed. “I didn't choose to be here.”

  Lifting her hands from his shins with a withering glance, she grabbed her bag, and exited the cabin with the slam of the door.

  Baldir slumped, appearing defeated. “She is your only hope.”

  “How is that? Are you telling me there isn’t another bloody person in Wales who could come and help me? There isn’t a single god in the pantheons you could convince to heal me?”

  With a sigh, Baldir released him. “No. You may be a good man but you’re a hellhound and at the moment your kind aren’t welcome in any world.”

  The man might have a point. Everyone assumed the hellhounds were complicit in Hel’s actions. Her control over them all was a closely guarded pack secret. Arwan scrubbed his hands down his face. “Fuck. I don’t want her here.”

  “She agreed to care for you. Even knowing what you are.”

  Guilt began a slow hot slide into his belly to join regret. “She knew?”

  Baldir leveled him with a look. “Yes, I told her and she decided to help anyway. How did you think I convinced her to stay?”

  “Which one is she? She’s not Conquest, as I met her face to face. Not Cloris, either. Is she War or is she Famine?”

  Baldir dragged his bottom lip between his teeth. Another nervous tick. “She is Famine.”

  Arwan wracked his brain in an attempt recall anything he’d heard about the Horseman of Famine. Not much. Something about a darker side, but only rumors. He couldn't rectify that supposed darkness with the woman he just met. More importantly, Famine hadn’t taken the lives of any of his friends.

  The open pleading in Baldir’s face deciding him. “Fine. Go get her. We can determine rules.”

  Baldir smiled and it lit up the room. Arwan had to close his eyes against it. “Just go.”

  In all the years he’d befriended Baldir, one fact Arwan understood about him, the sun god barely took care of himself, let alone another injured, dying, person. At least with two people helping him he might live. Without distraction the pain became almost blinding stabbing sensation ripping through him in cresting waves.

  Baldir loped out of the cabin and returned dragging Katherine behind him. “She says she won’t stay unless you apologize.”

  Anger surged up again, but he dragged in a deep breath and squashed it. “I'm sorry for speaking to you in such a way.”

  She ground her jaw and stared him down but after a moment nodded and took the chair she sat in earlier. “Baldir, I believe payment is due.”

  Baldir rolled his eyes and held out his hand. She slipped a phone into it, he opened it, and pressed a button. “It’s ringing.”

  Once the other party picked up he relayed the prophecy but omitted Katherine and Arwan’s involvement. Then hung up.

  “What did she say?” Katherine asked, taking back the phone.

  “Cloris said she will look into it.”

  Arwan coughed and sputtered. “Are you kidding me? You called Cloris? How many horsemen am I hosting?”

  Katherine glared. “If you don’t lie back you’ll be dealing with Cloris sooner than you planned.

  Death. Oh. Right.

  His heart beat fast against his ribs and he willed his breathing to lower and settle. The pain meds were taking hold and his brain felt a little foggy. “So, are you two staying here to play nursemaid until I’m better, or what?”

  A weighted tension passed between Baldir and Katherine, one even Arwan could see in a drug-induced haze, but Baldir spoke up. “No, I’m meeting Cloris to discuss the prophecy in more detail, and Katherine will stay here with you.”

  Alone. In his home with a Horseman. “Perfect. Just bloody perfect.”

  Katherine snorted. “You be nice or I won’t give you anymore medication.”

  “And then you’ll listen to me whine like a baby and be a dick the entire time.”

  “How is that different than you usual charming demeanor?”

  “Touché, Horseman.” Woman already had a good read on him.

  “My name is Katherine. How would you like it if I walked around calling you hellhound?”

  He shrugged, and it pulled the edges of his wound. Note to self: no shrugging. “I am not offended to be called what I am.”

  She stood up, her back straight and met his eyes. “I never said you offended me. I said my name is Katherine. If you want help, I at least expect civility.”

  He acquiesced with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll try to control my biting wit.”

  “Psh… your wit barely nibbles. Maybe when you’re healed, it will right itself again.”

  He smiled at her jibe and closed his eyes. She didn’t appear to have much attitude on the out right, but she had an edge when pushed. He liked that quality in a woman. In ten minutes she graduated from kind stranger, to loathed enemy, to a woman? The pain meds must be addling his brain. The edges of his mind pulled like taffy. Moments in time shifted in and out. Baldir was there. Arwan remembered the first time he had to help him back to his room in Hel’s dungeon. The amethyst Hel used to bind Baldir’s power burned a scar on his clavicle. He fought her hard before she made him regret it. Old memories, new ones, the smell of the sea drifted through his mind on an unreachable current. It called to
him, asked him to go, spend time amongst its soothing waves. The salty tang that stuck to the back of his throat, his hair, his skin. He breathed it in, grateful to be home.

  And then she was there, his Horseman. His? Why he was associating her with the feminine, he couldn't fathom. She was the opposite of his type. Darkness seeped into the foaming waves and he drifted on the edge of consciousness trying to catch what Baldir and Katherine were talking about. Pieces of conversation reached him but it was like attempting to understand a foreign language when your skills failed conversational.

  The word death sentence breached the blackness surrounding him before he succumbed to the silent dark completely.

  Chapter 5

  The fire created a soothing cocoon of warmth, lulling her to sleep. It had to be about two in the morning. Arwan passed out earlier, and was tucked in on one side of the bed. Baldir left some time ago. She glanced around the cabin for another place to sleep. Her choices included the floor, the bathtub, or the arm chairs. She eyed the big space empty on his bed and considered it. No. She couldn’t sleep in bed with him. As a hellhound, and adamant against her presence in his home, if he caught her he might strangle her to death in her sleep.

  The man didn’t even own extra bedding, except the dirty set of linens Arwan bled all over, that now lay in a heap by a wash basin. The only other clean set was on the bed. All she had with her was a jacket tucked away in the bag Baldir grabbed from the hotel. Eyeing the spot on the bed again, she reconsidered. What if she tucked the covers around them so they wouldn’t touch, or put extra pillows between them? That might work. A pillow fort. She laughed. Like a line of pillows would stop either of them from murdering each other if a gauntlet was thrown.

  The bed called to her, warm and cozy. She approached it, Arwan didn’t stir. Most likely in a painkiller induced coma. So if she did sleep next to him he probably wouldn’t wake before her, anyway. This idea was growing on her…or the delirium from lack of sleep did. Her bedtime had long passed.

  She sat on the edge of the bed gingerly, and swung her legs up all the while monitoring Arwan the entire time. Moving as slow and quiet as possible she grabbed the pillows on her side and lined them up between his body and hers. Then she lay on her side facing the room. The covers tangled with the pillows but it didn’t matter, she only needed a little.

  She tucked her hands beneath her head, closed her eyes, and sank into a rhythmic breathing pattern that always helped her fall asleep fast.

  ***

  Katherine blinked her eyes open to a sunlight streamed room. For a moment confusion warred with her grogginess. Then the events of the night hit her in a rush and the heavy weight across her hip meant the arrangement with Arwan was about to become awkward. She didn’t move but cast her gaze to get a look. Arwan’s arm was thrown across her hip over the blankets. He’d turned in the night and the pillow fort she so foolishly erected had been kicked off the bed at some point, too. Even worse, the heat of him against her back felt lovely, warmth sank into her. She became aware of the small places where their bodies touched. His arm on her hip. A couple fingers tangled in her hair, wild on the bed behind her. The juncture of his arm above her shoulder.

  She had to get out of the bed. With minute scoots forward, she wiggled from under his arm and flung herself across the room to the chair. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” She repeated the words to herself before glancing back at the bed to find him still passed out. He would never know they cuddled in the early morning hours, or that she enjoyed it.

  With a dive at her bag she grabbed her phone. The time read seven a.m. and she noticed ten text messages cascaded down the screen. She swiped it and checked them in case one came from Baldir. Each of them became more concerning than the last. After Baldir left, he met Cloris in London. How did he get there so fast? Maybe he could do the disappearing thing Cloris did. Come to think of it, none of them knew what powers Baldir possessed. Bianca decided to hunt down the remaining hellhounds to ensure they don’t fight against them, nor take Victor from her. Katherine eyed Arwan. That mandate likely included him. She hoped Baldir had specified the need for his friend’s safety, but he likely didn’t tell them the who or what about Arwan. Her stomach growled loudly and she tucked the phone away before surveying the kitchenette for food. Not much by way of supplies. Baldir grabbed some things last night but it was nothing more than the basics.

  “There’s oatmeal.”

  Katherine turned to find Arwan sitting on the bed clutching the bandages on his side.

  “Can you help me to the bathroom?” His voice, gravelly, accented, and lovely shot her into action.

  She closed the cabinet softly and crossed the room to his side. As he dropped an arm around her shoulder, she hugged his middle careful not to squeeze him too close. They wobbled to the bathroom and he grabbed the edge of the tub to remain standing.

  “I can take it from here, thank you.”

  She had doubts but gave him a nod and went back to begin making oatmeal. The kitchen didn’t contain any toppings or mix-ins so she made do with butter and sugar. She sat his on the nightstand before placing hers on the small table near the chair. The one she would be living in for the foreseeable future.

  “Kat?” he called from the bathroom.

  She frowned and glared at the door. Kat?

  Deciding he was probably serious she opened the bathroom to find him perched on the edge of the tub naked from the waist up. He’d removed the bandages she applied the night before, so she took the opportunity to inspect the wound. Arwan flinched at her touch around the edges.

  “I think there was something in it. That’s why it wasn’t healing. It came out into the bandages last night.”

  That would do it. “What was it?”

  “Doesn’t matter…looks, and feels, a lot better today.”

  “Yeah? Only a few more days of dealing with me, then.” She smiled at him but he did not return it so she straightened and helped him back to his bed. Once he settled she handed him the oatmeal before redressing his wound and taking her chair. The fireplace grate was sooty, gray, and empty. She’d have to start a fire soon. Her toes were chilled. But the warmth of the oatmeal calmed her rolling stomach. She monitored him as he ate in silence. The strange way he held the bowl close to his chest and scarfed at break neck speed made her heart hurt. He must have had problems getting food within the pack.

  “There’s plenty more,” she supplied, nibbling on her own.

  He looking up at her blinking as if in a daze. “That’s ok. I’m good with this.”

  She nodded and continued eating. When they both finished she washed, rinsed, and put the dishes away while he curled up on the bed with a book. He did so with a focus she admired. As if he had fallen into his daily routine.: wash, eat, read. It would be a relaxing existence to worry only for yourself.

  His routine wasn't what was stuck. The thing eating away inside her brain revolved around what Baldir said. Arwan changed into a hellhound involuntarily. Curiosity drove a cascade of questions around the topic in her mind. She wanted to know why or how but she didn’t know the proper etiquette for asking such thing. As they sat in silence she decided to channel Bianca, and just do it.

  “Arwan, can I ask you question?”

  He made a noncommittal noise which she took for acceptance.

  “How did you become a hellhound?”

  His head snapped up and he met her eyes. Now that the words were out, Katherine could only wait for an answer.

  “I'll make you a deal.” He shifted to look her more comfortably. “You answer a question of mine, and I'll answer yours.”

  There was really nothing in her life that required hiding, and no secrets she could recall, besides the obvious big one. Shifting in her seat so she could face him, she said, “Deal.”

  He also twisted slightly to face her. Katherine wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. “What is the Horseman of Famine doing in Wales?”

  Katherine chuckled. He wasted
his question because Katherine didn't even know why she chose Wales. “I'll answer you honestly. I have no idea.”

  “Well then, tell me the circumstances of your arrival.”

  “You already asked your question.”

  “Please humor and give me something here.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Would you have allowed me an extra question?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  At least he was honest. “Fine. But your answer better be a good one.”

  The corner of his lip turned up in what looked like the beginning of a smile.

  “Before the fight in the Underworld, Bianca had been an enchanted by Gwyn at Hel’s order. She had been holding Gwyn’s brother, Nuada.”

  Arwan nodded as if this wasn’t new information. “And?”

  “Gwyn enchanted Bianca to forget her loyalties and her friends. Once Hel was defeated, I decided I needed to take a break.”

  “A break from what? Life? I didn't think Horseman of the Apocalypse took holidays. And on that note, what are you guys even doing here?”

  She chuckled. “That’s not your question either, and your leniency is through. Answer mine now.”

  He looked as if he would press her further but decided against it. “Fine. The year was 1939. I was walking in the woods behind my family home. I was young, and even though I was preparing to go to war, my family wouldn't allow it. So I took to the woods to work myself physically for when I might join up. I stumbled across a wolf, or what I assumed was a wolf. I tried to slink away but of course it didn't work.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to remember the details. But Katherine didn't think that to be true. Immortals don't forget experiences like that.

  “He bit me, this wolf, and I ran off. I treated the wound which turned out to be superficial, but shortly thereafter I found myself an animal as well. I ran away from home, found a house by the sea, and never looked back.”

  More questions sprang to her mind. “How did you fall in with Hel?”

  He sighed, “Can you guess? Where do men’s logic always fail?”

  She wracked her brain and shrugged. “I don't know. I’m not a man”