The Four Horsemen_Reckoning

by LJ Swallow

  Seth told us in the past that Ewan and Joss were attacked with their own powers. Was he telling us they were from portals he’d opened? We’re not sure, but we’re positive Seth intended to work through all four guys to see what would happen if they died.

  Ripley sighs and pushes his beer away. “I have people watching portals, but keeping them close—that’s your job.”

  “Which is difficult when a god is attacking them! We can’t exactly stand guard outside them all,” replies Ewan.

  I chew a nail and continue to study Breanna. I don’t know what to make of her or understand her relationship with Ripley. She taps her fingers on the side of her glass, quietly processing the conversation between Ripley and the guys.

  “Did you bring the book?” she asks them.

  “To a public place where you could pull a fast one on us and leave with it?” Xander snorts. “No. We have it at the house.”

  “I hear you already had help with the translation,” continues Breanna. “The Collector? Is he in the States too? I’m surprised he’s involved himself in this."

  "No. He has no reason to be. Syv helped too and also stayed behind."

  "Syv. Is that the demon girl?"

  Ripley chuckles. "She helped? And the girl’s hardly a demon. There’s no use for her. She's not a big player in all this."

  My dislike for this man grows. "How do you know?"

  "Because she's weak. Too human. I've no idea where her half-demon heritage comes from, but low-level scum if mummy or daddy didn’t pass any powers on."

  "Syv’s parentage means shit right now." I sense Ewan’s growing irritation and curl a hand around his leg.

  "I'm pissed off you didn't bring the book,” says Breanna. “You were the ones who insisted we meet somewhere neutral."

  "We had no clue you’d be here. We thought we were meeting him alone. " Xander jerks a thumb at Ripley. "I'm prepared to trust you because you can help."

  "I know. Because you need to know how to beat this childish god. I'd like to help, which is why I’m here."

  "Why?" asks Ewan. "What's your motivation?"

  She shakes her head at him. "I live in this world too, what a stupid question."

  "Do you mind telling me what you know so far, boys?" asks Ripley. "You were cagey on the phone."

  I knew this conversation was coming. I worry what will happen when Ripley is told the story, if he makes any sarcastic comments. Perhaps this is another reason the guys pushed to have the meeting in public. Xander raging against Ripley wouldn’t be pretty.

  Ripley tips his head. "Look at your faces. Not good? Shit. Do I need another drink for this news?"

  I tighten my hand on Ewan's leg and he pulls my fingers away, wrapping his around mine. I squeeze and look to him. "Maybe we'll get some drinks, Ewan."

  Ewan nods and the conversation is delayed by me and him taking a drinks order, another strange ordinariness in the midst of a personal hell.

  8

  VEE

  I stand at the bar next to Ewan, glancing back at the table where the other guys explain what we found. We'd already discussed how much to tell Ripley, and there was a lot of debate whether he should know who I am. But what's the point in hiding anything?

  "Are you okay, Ewan?" I ask. "You don't look too good."

  "Gee, thanks." He attempts a weak smile.

  "I'm glad to see you detached from the internet for a few hours."

  "I’m not. I need to keep watching."

  I take his phone as he removes it from his pocket. "Yes, but you also need to focus on other things."

  "Like what? A prophecy I don't want to believe?"

  I run my finger across his phone screen, the familiar knot beginning in my stomach. "Breanna can help."

  "Yeah. Everybody says, but aren’t you suspicious?"

  Always. The suspicion follows me everywhere. I can only trust four people in my life—and for now, that’s enough. “Yes.”

  Ripley watches me from across the bar too, and through new eyes as they tell him the truth about Truth. I saw this with the Collector, and even with the guys when the book revealed who I am. I'm different. Not Vee.

  I'm a shell surrounding something else.

  To blot the thought away, I drink my neat whiskey, remembering Syv as I do. That evening was a damn sight happier than this one. I hope she’s okay. I’d call her, but Syv doesn’t seem the phone chatting type.

  A couple sit at a table between us and the others, watching everybody’s movements in the bar. There’s nothing memorable about them: average-looking couple in their twenties dressed to match their environment. But I don't know why they catch my eye. Am I sensing something from them? Or is Ripley's aura stretching this far?

  No. There's something odd. As I study them, light shimmers around them, faint, the way I've seen on myself when using my power. I rub my eyes and the light fades. Has the stress started to affect my eyesight?

  “Do you see that?" I ask Ewan.

  He turns, two beer bottles in each hand. "Where? What?"

  "Them." I tiptoe to whisper, my cheek catching his as I do, an aching reminder we haven't touched for days. "At the table. They're glowing."

  "No. Well, not to me anyway."

  I look back over my shoulder, unsubtly, and the woman meets my eyes. The room is too dim to see her clearly, but there's an intensity in her gaze unlike a normal appraisal of someone in a bar. The man switches focus to his phone.

  "Something doesn't feel right."

  Ewan grips the bottles. "I hate it when you say that. Is one of them Seth? Maybe he has a new disguise and decided to stalk us."

  "No. I'd know if one of them was him."

  "I'll keep an eye on them."

  "I think they're keeping an eye on me." I pick up the remaining drinks Ewan can’t carry.

  One the way back to the table, I deliberately walk close to their table and focus on picking up the vibe I sensed. But there's a block now, as if I'm walking past a closed window between us.

  Hair lifts on my neck and I choose a different seat so my back isn’t to the couple anymore. I stare at the back of their heads. They talk, faces together.

  "Sorry to hear the bad news." Ripley takes his glass from me. I frown at his dumb platitude, as if I just had a bad health diagnosis.

  Which I guess I have.

  Ewan places his face near Xander's ear and speaks. Xander looks over his shoulder and nods.

  "I take it from the silence you've told Breanna and Ripley everything you know?" I ask. The silence and Xander's expression.

  "Roughly," says Heath.

  "I can help." Breanna's words surprise me, almost as much as when she places a hand on mine. I'm primed to attack demons, but now I'm unsure she’s fully demon. Perhaps Breanna isn’t as powerful as she makes out.

  "Can you?" I ask. "How?"

  "There will be more in the book. Perhaps clues about what can be done to make things..." She pauses and chews her lip. "Easier on you."

  "Breanna thinks there could be a time and place too." Xander's distant again, the closed-off guy I met at Portia's.

  "We know the specific s aremissing," I say. "Prophecies always have a time and place. Look at all the 'end of the world' predictions that people make regularly. I haven't heard anybody announcing one for this month, so that's good, right?" I swallow down my ramble. "I did some research of my own."

  "I looked for the same thing," says Ewan. “Humans are obsessed with the end of the world. But Vee’s right.”

  "Their dumb predictions means fuck all," says Xander. "Breanna can help, like I said originally. Like the Collector said."

  "So Breanna can go with you? And you agree to keep me informed on anything new?" Ripley asks.

  “If you continue to help us.”

  Ripley huffs at Xander’s words. “Fine. I’ll try.”

  To do as little as possible, I’ll bet. So far, he’s useless.

  “I need to know why the Order are mentioned in the book,” he continues.
“From what you say, the book pre-dates the Order’s arrival in this world."

  Breanna nods. "I think that’s unusual too, but I'll dig into it. If Order is a word connected with Truth and Chaos, there's definitely significance."

  “Correct. So, guys. An update soon? How about finding more about the attacks and dealing with that issue.”

  "We’re working on it and we'll keep you updated," Ewan replies, gruffly.

  Ripley tips his chin. “Soon, I hope. Especially if Seth is threatening to reveal all.”

  “Ewan told you, we’re working on it,” snaps Xander. “Why don’t you keep an eye out too? You have people powerful enough to kill. As we know.”

  “I’m kinda busy, but I’ll circulate a description and instruct my guys to take down anything strange.” Ripley waves a hand and sips his drink.

  A muscle twitches in Xander’s jaw. “Be careful. Don’t draw attention. And let us know if you do.”

  Ripley smiles and claps his hands. "Of course! We’re friends and allies, right?"

  Heath scowls at him. "Don't take the piss."

  "Uh huh." Ripley looks past Ewan's head and smiles in someone’s direction. I turn my head and see two girls in their late teens at an adjacent table smiling back.

  "Okay, well, if that's sorted, I'll move on with the rest of my evening." He stands and picks up his jacket. "Later, guys."

  Ripley approaches the girls and the flirtation begins. One with long blonde hair and clothes leaving little to the imagination watches our table instead, flicking a calculating gaze between my four men. If I were a mind reader, I'd guess: two girls, four guys, so who's available? She whispers something to Ripley, who laughs and replies.

  Whatever he says, the girl no longer pays attention to us.

  Ewan grabs a nearby beermat and pulls a pen from inside his jacket. After scrawling on the mat, he pushes it to Breanna. "This is where we're staying. Follow us home."

  “Tonight?” she asks in surprise. “This can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Seth could do anything, at any minute."

  "He won't,” she replies.

  I frown. "How can you be so sure?"

  "Seth has made a move. He’s waiting for ours. Does he know the truth about Vee yet?" she asks Heath.

  "No. Not as far as we know. But if somebody tells him." He looks over to Ripley.

  "I don't think Ripley will." Breanna takes her handbag from the floor. "He's scared. As scared as you all are." She places the mat with the address into her bag and fastens it. "Okay. Tonight. Let's see what I can do to help. I’ll meet you at the house.”

  Breanna heads away and my focus returns to the nearby couple. Are we in earshot or is the music enough to hide our conversation? I nudge Joss. "Do the people behind seem strange to you?"

  "I can only see their backs. I don't feel anything from them, though."

  My shoulders drop. "Must be imagining things then."

  "Do you think one might be Seth? I’m sure he can change his appearance if he wants."

  "That's what Ewan asked. No."

  "I think we should follow them." Xander looks over his glass at us, voice hushed. "If Vee senses something and, coincidentally, Ripley and Breanna are with us, I'm on guard."

  "Maybe they'll follow us when we leave," Heath replies. "Let's wait and see what happens."

  Xander gives a curt nod. “Okay. We wait and watch.”

  "Then I'd like another drink, please," I say and hold my empty glass out to Xander. "Could you buy me one?"

  Joss chuckles. "That was quick. Has Syv been teaching you bad drinking habits?"

  Xander takes my glass and stands. "Keep an eye on them."

  The atmosphere around the table changes, but not for the bad. As if this task draws the guys back to their old way of working. Together. Focused. The Four Horsemen on task.

  Ewan takes his phone and I poke him in the ribs when I he switches back to news sites and social media. I’m about to chastise him but Joss interrupts.

  “Ewan. Come with me.” He inclines his head to where the man we’re watching heads to the door. "Tell Xander we're following. You two can keep watching the woman."

  “Sure.” Heath grins and takes a long drink. “Easy.”

  The strangest thing here is I think they're enjoying the hunt.

  9

  JOSS

  Am I missing something about this couple because I’m too distracted by Breanna? My same unease exists around the demon, despite her friendliness. I’m looking forward to asking Breanna questions. Maybe her information will join dots with what the Collector told me .

  I walk out the bar first, pulling my phone from my pocket and pretending to send a message as I do. The guy from the bar walks across the car park to a dark-coloured hatchback parked in the shadows. He pauses and leans against the car. I keep one eye on him as he reaches into a pocket.

  Ewan appears at my shoulder. "Anything?"

  "No." I slump against the wall. "Maybe he's leaving."

  A large guy with a long beard grunts at us to move from the doorway and pushes by. I nudge Ewan as he's distracted by the bikes again. "Seriously, man. We have other things to think about."

  "You think I don't know that?"

  I wave a hand at him to keep his voice down as the man by the car looks over. Whatever he intended to take from his pocket he leaves in. "What do you reckon?" I incline my head towards him.

  "Get to the car. I have keys, we can follow if we need to."

  “Okay, but let Xander know what’s happening.”

  The Jeep is parked at the opposite end of the parking area and we settle into the front seats. The man doesn’t move. If he’s waiting for the woman, why did they leave separately?

  “Breanna,” I hiss at Ewan and shuffle down in the seat as she steps into view and scans the car park. “I thought she left earlier?”

  Ewan moves down in his seat too, though it’s harder for him to hide his height.

  With one glance at our car, she approaches the man at his. I move for the best possible view without revealing myself. I can read body language easily, but I can’t figure out if the pair know each other. After a minute, they step away from the car and toward the building’s corner.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Do we follow?”

  Ewan’s mouth thins. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

  One arm over the back of Ewan’s headrest, I crane my neck to look to the building. Did the others follow her?

  Nobody.

  “Let’s go.” I open the driver’s door.

  As we cross in the direction the pair headed, a motorbike roars to life. The guy who passed us earlier revs his engine and speeds in front of us, too close for my comfort. I step back, wrinkling my nose at the fumes. “For fuck’s sake.”

  Ewan places a hand on my arm. “Wait,” he whispers. “Listen.”

  Breanna and the guy are out of sight around the corner and I strain to hear their conversation. We exchange a “what the fuck is happening?” look and continue our charade. Two guys overawed by the bikes while waiting for friends.

  I don’t hear anything useful, until Breanna shouts, “No!”

  With a reflex action, my hand grips the knife inside my jacket. Breanna shouts a second time. We step forward and around the corner. Whatever is happening, and whoever Breanna is, we need to help her because she can sure as hell help us.

  Breanna is on her arse, hands either side as she props herself up on the tarmac. The man has his back to us, leaning over her. In his right hand, a blade glints. No, not glints, but shines with a faint white light.

  “I fucking knew it,” mutters Ewan.

  Neither the guy nor Breanna notices us, intent on each other. He lunges at Breanna, who dodges his weapon’s thrust by rolling onto her side. She scrambles onto her hands and knees and the man knees Breanna in the back, sending her sprawling back to the floor. He kneels on her and she reaches behind herself to try and dislodge him.

  The man yanks her head back by the h
air and wraps his arm around to hold the blade against her neck.

  Holy fuck. I step forward to interrupt.

  Too late.

  Breanna screams out, a high-pitched noise of pain, spurring Ewan into action. He charges forward and grabs the man’s arm, dislodging the weapon and sending it spinning across the alley. The man releases Breanna, who rolls onto her back and grasps her neck. Seconds later, I’m by her side, terrified how much blood I’ll see spreading from beneath Breanna’s fingers.

  “Get away,” she says hoarsely and blows hair from her face. “Seriously. Leave.”

  There’s no blood spreading through her fingers. What the fuck?

  I pull Breanna’s hand away and a mark, glowing white to match the weapon on the floor, slices her neck into a sick smile. Her face contorts with pain as she attempts to focus on us.

  “Hey, Pestilence, think about this for a few minutes,” says the guy.

  I snap my head around and see the man sneering at Ewan. He pushes Ewan’s chest with his fingers and slams him against the wall several metres behind. Air knocked from his lungs, Ewan takes a deep breath and struggles to regain his balance.

  No.

  More as strong as Chaos?

  Heart pounding in my ears, I stand and straighten, ready to fight whoever this is. Whatever this is.

  “Can you let us do our job, Famine?”

  I jerk and spin back around at a woman’s smooth tones behind me. Huge blue eyes set in a face blazing with anger.

  Oh fuck.

  I step back. “What’s happening?”

  “Listen to the demon. Leave.” She sighs as she looks at Ewan, who has his hand on the wall, still unsteady. “You guys. Always with your hit first, think later strategy.”

  “Doesn’t look like Breanna’s choice to talk to you instead helped.” I narrow my eyes and indicate the woman curled on the ground.

  These aren’t demons. I don’t know what the fuck they are. They attacked a demon, but also threw Ewan against a wall. More worryingly, which side are they on?

  “We don’t negotiate with demons, especially not her.”

  “Don’t talk to them.” The man straightens and scowls at the woman. “We do our job and leave.”