The Hand of Pestilence

by Charlie Richards

  Kyros turned and exited the room.

  Rising, Pestilence headed toward the other side of the massive study. He crossed to a large sideboard and opened a glass door. Pulling a decanter from inside, as well as two tumblers, he moved toward the comfortable leather chairs and sofas.

  As Pestilence placed those items onto the low table set up in the middle, Death swept into the room. While everyone called them brothers, no one would say they looked it. Hell, War didn’t even look humanoid unless he wanted to.

  Still, of his brothers, Pestilence looked the most similar to Death. They both sported long, white-blond hair and slender frames. While Death had a tall, toned body, Pestilence appeared more gaunt, and even when he tried to straighten, he always remained a little hunched.

  Death’s red-irised eyes peered at him before flicking a gaze to the liquor and back again.

  Pestilence knew his own eyes were an unusual pale amber.

  Smiling thinly, Death pointed at the beverage. “As much as I would love to have a drink with you, brother, I’m not certain there’s time.”

  His curiosity piqued, Pestilence cocked his head. “What happened? Something more with the angel?”

  Recently, Pestilence and the others had joined forces when one of Death’s demons had disappeared. His brother hadn’t been able to find him, which should have been impossible. Each horseman was linked mentally to each of their demons. While they couldn’t communicate telepathically or anything, they always knew where each one was and if they were healthy.

  Hell, a horseman even knew when one of his demons was fucking in the human realm. None of them cared what they did after finishing an assignment. Personally, Pestilence shut the link down for a short time, and he assumed his brothers did as well.

  After locating and rescuing not only Death’s demon but a number of shifters and an angel—which should also not have been possible—the brothers had learned the extent of unrest between the humans and paranormals on that plane. They figured a war was coming. If that was the case, Pestilence had expected a call from War, not Death.

  “This is not regarding the angel,” Death assured, resting his scythe on the ground and gripping the shaft with both of his pale, slender hands. “Do you remember how you mentioned an interest in companionship?”

  Pestilence arched a brow as surprise filled him. “I do.”

  Recently, after several millennia of existence alone, both War and Death had chosen to take on companions. War had bonded with a vampire and a shifter who’d been a fated match unable to complete their bond when tragedy struck. Death had chosen a pair of human lovers already in a relationship when a grievous injury threatened to separate them. His brothers split their time between the demon realm and the human one, tending to their chosen companions’ needs.

  Having been alone just as long as his brothers, Pestilence had found the connection fascinating, and he’d ended up longing for something similar. He’d shared that information with Death, since his job was so much more hands-on with those in the human realm. Death had promised to keep an eye out for a possible match.

  Excitement flooded Pestilence.

  “I’ve discovered a pair that may interest you,” Death told him, his expression serious. “A vampire and a human.”

  Drawing closer to Death, Pestilence lifted his quiver from the nearby rack and slung it over his head. Next, he picked up his hunter’s bow and draped it over his shoulder. Then he paused beside Death.

  “I’m assuming one is near your doorstep, and that’s why time is crucial,” Pestilence stated. When Death nodded, he indicated that his brother should precede him from the room. “Please tell me as we walk. I’m still interested in finding companionship. If one is going to die, the other will follow, right?”

  It made sense to him. A vampire couldn’t live without his beloved and if bonded, vice versa for the human.

  Even as Death turned and headed toward the office door, he shook his head. “They are not bonded.”

  “Not bonded?” Pestilence almost missed a step. “Did someone interfere, like with War’s pair?”

  Death again shook his head. “From the thoughts I’m getting from the vampire, they’re in love and have been in a relationship for almost three years, but Fate didn’t pair them.”

  Pestilence hummed as he strode briskly through his estate with Death at his side. “And the human?”

  “He was attacked by a rogue vampire. Garrett stopped him from killing Aiden, but he did considerable damage,” Death explained. “Aiden will not survive it.”

  “Is Garrett’s beloved close at hand to ease the pain of his lover’s passing?” Pestilence asked curiously.

  If Fate was removing his lover, perhaps it was on purpose.

  Death fell silent, and his eyes narrowed. Due to his job of removing souls from the human realm, his brother had the ability to know who was fated with whom. Of course, he was also forbidden from interfering in regards to when they found each other or even to share the knowledge.

  When they reached the stable and Pestilence retrieved his mount—Death swinging onto the back of his own waiting horse—his brother finally replied.

  “The shifter that Garrett is fated to is not on the east coast,” Death replied thoughtfully. Meeting Pestilence’s gaze with a concerned expression. “From the vampire’s mental state, riddled with guilt, I fear he will lose himself in grief before they ever have a chance to meet.”

  Pestilence urged his horse into a gallop, seeing Death at his side, and called, “Which is why you came to me.”

  Death grinned, his red eyes twinkling. “Well, you did say you were interested in companionship.”

  “Indeed. I will meet them.”

  At that time, Pestilence and his brother reached the mists that were the gateway between realms. He reined his horse back a little, so he was a stride behind Death’s animal. His senses showed him the lei line his brother targeted, and he followed him.

  Pestilence appeared in the parking lot of a hospital. His natural homing instincts told him he was near Philadelphia. The warm summer afternoon wrapped around him, and he appreciated that he didn’t wear a cloak like his brother. Instead, Pestilence’s garments consisted of riding breeches, knee-high boots, and a comfortable tunic.

  With a wave of Death’s hand, his horse disappeared, and he suddenly sat on a Harley. His scythe became a cane, and his eyes turned green. He swung off his motorcycle and straightened the calf-length jacket he now wore.

  With a wave of his own hand, Pestilence adjusted his appearance to something more suitable to the human realm. He swung off his Harley and followed his brother toward the hospital. Idly, he swung his own cane.

  Death didn’t bother stopping at the information desk, guiding him down a hall to the elevators. They reached the third floor a few seconds later. Finally, he led the way into the room.

  The bowed head of the man sitting beside the bed snapped up. His brown eyes were bloodshot, and his face was damp. Even his thick brown hair stood in disarray, attesting to the fact that he must have run his fingers through it repeatedly.

  This is the vampire. Garrett Morrison. Hmm... he’s handsome despite the grief in his eyes.

  “Who are you?” Garrett snapped.

  “I’m someone who can help you, Garrett,” Pestilence claimed, moving toward him slowly. He glanced at the human lying still on the bed. “And Aiden, too.”

  Garrett’s nostrils flared, making it obvious he was scenting him. His eyebrows furrowed, and his body tensed. Even his grip on Aiden appeared to tighten a little.

  “How—”

  Before Garrett could finish his sentence, a couple of nurses bustled into the room. They immediately scowled at the horsemen. The shorter of the two hustled past them while the taller one pointed between them.

  “We were told Aiden doesn’t have any other family, so you should leave,” she demanded.

  Pestilence smiled coldly at the nurse. “We’re here to s
upport Garrett in this trying time.” Pushing into her mind, he mentally urged her to go about her duties while ignoring them. “You should continue now.”

  Her face blanked just a little, and she did as she was told. While the shorter nurse’s eyebrows furrowed, the woman didn’t question the obviously superior female. They prepared to wheel Aiden from the room.

  “I’ll be right here waiting when you get out of surgery,” Garrett whispered into Aiden’s ear. Then he kissed his lover’s cheek before letting go of his hand.

  Once Aiden had been removed, Garrett stood and faced them, a frown curving his drawn features.

  Pestilence closed the door behind them.

  “I am the Horseman of Death,” his brother stated. For a brief second, he revealed his true form, causing Garrett to gasp. “I think you know why I’m here.”

  “N-No,” Garrett gasped, his eyes beginning to take on a fresh sheen. He glanced toward the closed door. “Aiden has to make it. H-He just has to.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Garrett whispered, “I can’t live without him.”

  Returning to his true form, Pestilence rested one hand on Garrett’s shoulder while cradling his jaw with the other. “I said I could help. If you’re willing.” He hesitated a second, then added, “And if you believe Aiden would agree as well.”

  Garrett met Pestilence’s gaze. The way the vampire’s eyes moved told him he was sweeping his face. His lips tightened as his brows furrowed.

  “How can you ask him?” Garrett asked. “He’s unconscious, in surgery, and”—for a second, he attention flitted to Death—”not meant to survive.” His voice broke as he spoke those words. “How can you help?”

  “I can enter Aiden’s mind, even while unconscious,” Pestilence told Garrett, using his thumb to gently massage his jaw. “If he says yes to bonding with me, I’ll feed him my blood, which will strengthen him enough to survive the surgery.” Grimacing, he added, “While I could just pull him from the hospital, it would require altering many minds and a lot of paperwork.” Pestilence shrugged. “Simpler this way.”

  Garrett nodded. “Anything to save Aiden.”

  Pestilence felt a wash of pleasure as the low burn of arousal began to simmer through him. Allowing his claws to morph from his fingernails, he lifted the forefinger of his right hand to his left wrist. He dug in deeply, slicing himself and drawing blood, then held it up for Garrett.

  Upon seeing Garrett’s confused expression, Pestilence arched one brow in question. “You did agree.”

  Then Garrett’s eyes widened. “Y-You want to bond with me, too?”

  “I do,” Pestilence confirmed, realizing he hadn’t done a very good job of explaining... well, anything. “You will both be my lovers, bound to me for as long as we continue to share blood.” He growled softly as he added, “Fair warning. You will crave it, crave me, submitting to me in all ways.” Reaching for Garrett’s nape, Pestilence cradled it, using his hold to draw his face closer to his bleeding wrist. “Just as I will enjoy your companionship and giving you pleasure.”

  “But I failed Aiden,” Garrett whispered, even as his nostrils flared and his focus riveted on Pestilence’s blood. His desire was clear in his eyes as they bled to red. “Why would you want someone who couldn’t protect his lover?”

  “That was not your fault,” Pestilence stated simply.

  “Better hurry,” Death cut in. “Aiden doesn’t have much time.”

  Pestilence nodded just a little, indicating that he’d heard. “Well?” His heart pounded in anticipation.

  Finally, Garrett nodded. Then he leaned forward and grabbed hold of Pestilence’s wrist. After just a second more of hesitation, Garrett wrapped his lips around Pestilence’s bleeding flesh. He swiped his tongue to catch the blood before groaning and sinking his fangs into him.

  Feeling the exquisite sensation of Garrett drinking from him, Pestilence moaned. His cock throbbed in his breeches, and his knees threatened to buckle. He trembled as his balls tightened.

  Before Pestilence could harness control, his testicles pulled up, and with a growl and a buck of his hips, he came. Shuddering, he unloaded behind his fly. Spots danced across his vision as trembles worked through him.

  “Hurry,” Death whispered into his ear.

  Pestilence gasped as he came back to himself. He realized Garrett had stopped drinking, and the wound was sealed. Shaking his head, he took in the vampire’s flushed face.

  The smell of cum perfumed the air, and it wasn’t all his own.

  “Damn,” Pestilence whispered. “Forgot about that little perk of vampires.”

  Garrett shifted on his feet, appearing uncomfortable.

  Chuckling softly, Pestilence murmured, “Next time, I’ll use my tongue, but since we don’t have time now...” With a wink and a wave of his hand, Pestilence used magick to clean up both their releases. “There. Now I’ll speak with Aiden, and as soon as we can, we’ll return to my realm to complete our bonds.”

  After getting a small nod from Garrett, Pestilence strode from the room. Death remained behind.

  Pestilence jogged through the corridors, swiftly finding the room he wanted. Cloaking himself in invisibility, he entered. Frowning upon spotting the tube down Aiden’s throat, Pestilence dug into the minds of the doctor and nurses working on the human, giving them the image that the tube remained even as he gently removed it. Next, he sprouted his wings from his back, tearing through his tunic. Wrapping them around Aiden’s head, Pestilence whispered an ancient spell, connecting his mind to the human’s.

  Pestilence whispered into Aiden’s mind.

  Sweet Aiden, do you wish to live? To stay with Garrett?

  Yes. The man’s response was immediate.

  Pestilence smiled.

  What if it meant you had to share him and yourself with another lover?

  After a second of hesitation, Aiden spoke again. With his beloved?

  No. Pestilence heard beeping and the doctor shouting orders. We don’t have much time, sweet Aiden. If you accept my blood, you will be bound to me and Garrett for all time. We will be yours, and you will be ours.

  Who are you?

  I am the Horseman of Pestilence. His heart skipped a beat in his chest as he spotted the resuscitation paddles. Does it matter? You’re about to die.

  Anything to stay with Garrett.

  Satisfaction flooded Pestilence, and he swiftly sliced his wrist for the second time that day. He placed it at Aiden’s lips.

  Drink.

  Aiden did, and Pestilence poured healing energy into his human’s chest, allowing the paddles to do their job and his heart to beat once more.

  Chapter Three

  Garrett paced the room, unease churning in his gut. Swallowing hard, he could still taste the flavor of Pestilence’s blood on his tongue. He flushed as he remembered his response to the horseman.

  Gods, I came in my pants from his delicious flavor.

  While Garrett had caused many people to do the same over the course of his nearly two centuries of life, he hadn’t done that himself since he was an adolescent.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Garrett felt guilt claw at him. He didn’t deserve Aiden’s forgiveness, no matter how much he desired it. His human had been gravely injured. Glancing Death’s way as he made another pass of the room, he acknowledged that he would have, should have died.

  A small smile suddenly curved Death’s lips. He didn’t push off the wall on which he leaned, his right ankle crossed over his left. Death did turn his head and focus on him, however.

  “Aiden accepted Pestilence’s offer,” Death told him, appearing pleased. “He lives.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to, was he?” Garrett forced his feet to stop moving, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “He was supposed to die... because I didn’t get to him in time.” As he watched Death’s eyes narrow, he continued. “I should have—”

  “You have no control over when someone is supposed to die,”
Death stated, interrupting Garrett’s rambling. “When it is time, it is time.”

  “Then why—” Before Garrett could finish his question about why Pestilence would step in, the door of the room banged open, and three vampires strode inside. Garrett dipped his head in deference. “Enforcer Caine.”

  Garrett knew the other two were Enforcer Rizer and Enforcer Whitney, but Caine was the head enforcer, so he addressed him.

  “You were ordered back to the coven after we cleaned up the mess at the restaurant,” Enforcer Caine pointed out, a disapproving look on his face.

  Swallowing hard, Garrett felt his face flush. “I—” He paused, cleared his throat, then tried again. “I didn’t want Aiden to wake up and be alone.”

  Caine heaved a deep sigh as he shook his head. “I know you’re especially attached to the donor, but his chances of survival are extremely slim.” The dark-haired vampire frowned at him. “You should’ve followed orders. Now Master Condor has requested your presence.” Then Caine tapped his watch. “It didn’t help that you skipped out on your guard shift without notice or getting a replacement.”

  Garrett grimaced. He’d completely forgotten about his shift. All he’d been able to think about was his sweet Aiden lying so still in a hospital bed. He’d poured his anguish into his silent prayers to the gods.

  And Pestilence came.

  That caused Garrett to remember Death’s presence. Except, when he looked around, the horseman was gone.

  “Are you coming in quietly, Garrett?” Enforcer Caine asked, his tone deep with concern.

  A soft voice Garrett recognized as Death’s whispered into his ear, nearly making him jump out of his skin. He barely contained his shock upon hearing the horseman’s offer.

  “You are no longer bound to that coven, Garrett,” Death told him. “Say the word, and I’ll send them on their way.”

  Shaking his head just a smidge, Garrett muttered, “I don’t want to cause trouble, and I need to let Master Condor know I’m leaving.”

  “As you wish,” Death replied. “I’ll let Pestilence know where you went.”