The Four Horsemen_Reckoning

by LJ Swallow

  But I’m pissed off right now. Shortly after we returned, I heard Heath’s words to Joss in the hallway: “We should make the most of the time we have left.”

  I stepped outside, away from them, before they saw me. I sucked in the cool air and self-control, because smacking one or both of them in the face won’t help.

  Since when was defeat an option in our lives?

  I hang outside and sit on the metal garden seat positioned by a small table. Somewhere for the owners to enjoy balmy summer evenings.

  I don't want to be here. Not in this house. Not in this country. Yeah, by coming to the States we're stepping closer to Seth. But what choice do we have? Our home in England is destroyed, and we have nowhere. Safety has gone. But, I’m stuck in a fucking fae house, hands tied over what to do next.

  I'm sick of inaction. I've waited for Seth's mocking face to reappear and unveil more bullshit somewhere, but nothing. I stare at the stars and consider what’s in the void behind them. Who created them? Chaos or someone else? A shiver sets from my scalp along my spine. The closer we move towards apocalyptic events, the harder it is to deny our connection to another god. The god Chaos complained ruined his creation.

  I walk back into the house. Ewan returned to the kitchen corner with his laptop. One thing I learned about this guy over the years is he uses this activity to avoid conversation. He’ll point at the screen and tell you to be quiet. That’s he’s busy. Nowadays, I don’t know whether this is entirely true, but my desire for small talk dropped off a couple of days ago too. After tonight, Ewan’s pride is damaged, but the rest of him is okay.

  Vee takes over the research sometimes as she has similar skill. But Ewan’s obsession in following every tiny story possible connected to Seth takes over his life right now. He hardly sleeps. Eats. Not that any of us do much of that either, but Ewan's the worst.

  "What's happening?" I ask. “Anything?” The fridge is well-stocked with crap American beer, but the whiskey is okay. I grab a half-empty bottle from the cupboard beside the faes’ fancy wines and pour a couple of glasses. "Any weird activity around the portals? I know we haven't felt anything, maybe he can override that ability."

  Ewan slugs his whiskey in one go and pushes the glass toward me for more. "There is something.” He flicks to a different screen. "More seismic activity than usual."

  Shit. "By 'more seismic activity' are you talking earthquakes?"

  "Minor ones. It’s freaking people out in this part of the world. There were strong tremors last week."

  I snort. “Chaos is being Mr. Obvious, then? Storms? Earthquakes? Maybe volcanoes next?”

  “If he fucks with the San Andreas fault, he could wipe us out with the rest of LA and solve his problem."

  "Nah. He said he wants his big finale and to watch us die." I drink and pour another glass. "Shame he won't."

  “I half-expected a taunting call about what happened to Breanna earlier.”

  “I don’t think this was him. Or I can’t be sure.” I chew my lip. “Has Vee felt anything… strange?” Vee's pissed off we follow her everywhere but understands why. There must be a reason Seth hasn't yanked her to him again, but that situation could change.

  "Do you think Seth knows we have answers?"

  "Maybe. Who the fuck knows?"

  I grit my teeth, frustrated by my lack of control and the exhausting need to keep my emotions hidden. Right now, I'm more bothered by Breanna's whereabouts than Seth's.

  Ewan gestures at his phone. “I’ve tried to contact Syv. She might ignore me, but I sent a picture of the sword. Maybe the little magpie will be attracted to the shiny.” He smirks. “I told her in the message she could have the weapon once this is over.”

  “Do you think giving a weapon like that to Syv is sensible?”

  He shrugs. “I haven’t said I’d keep my word. She never does. Well, rarely.”

  I shake my head at him, but if his trick gets Syv to the States to help out, it’s worth lying to friends.

  Man, this is fucked up.

  "Where are the others?" A suspicion washes over me. “Did they go upstairs? Like, the three of them?”

  An understanding look passes between us. Joss and Heath hold an emotional, intuitive relationship with Vee that seems to spread between the three of them. Has this progressed further? The day we arrived, they shared a bed. Their decision. A weird one. But theirs.

  Ewan jerks a thumb towards a door. "They’re watching movies."

  I snap my head back. "Huh? Shouldn’t we be looking into what just happened?"

  "Yeah, my thoughts exactly." He taps keys on his laptop and switches focus to his screen. "I think the guys want to spend as much time as possible with Vee before... shit goes down."

  My stomach knots. "I heard Heath talk about ‘making the most’ of the time we have. Do they think she'll die?"

  Ewan's attention remains fixed on his laptop. "Funnily enough, Xan, I don't ask them the question."

  "Their doubts are bullshit." I draw in a deep breath, fighting the anger that builds rapidly in recent days. "She won't die."

  "I know," Ewan says quietly. “I agree.”

  I tap my foot on the floor. My attempt to ground myself fails. Movies. Fucking movies. The switch on everything I'm trying to contain flicks, and I'm caught in the immediate, frightening spiral to anger.

  My bare feet smack across the tiled floor as I throw open the door, greeted with a domestic scene that rips into my heart. Vee. Joss. Heath. The trio, curled up together with popcorn, watching the massive TV screen.

  Laughing.

  Relaxed and happy.

  Popcorn litters the floor, evidence of a food fight stuck in Vee's hair too. I clench my teeth, dragging back the extreme reaction about to pour from me. I can’t upset Vee.

  I can control this.

  But I can't. I'm putting all my energy we have into a future, and two of us think she'll die?

  "What's going on?" I ask.

  Vee looks over her shoulder. "Come and watch the movie. So funny."

  Joss plucks popcorn from her hair and eats. "Take some down time, Xander."

  “Down time?” I growl. “We can’t afford downtime.”

  “A couple of hours before we sleep won’t hurt.” Heath pauses. “Grab Ewan. Let’s just relax.”

  “You’re. Wasting. Time.” My jaw clenches.

  “A couple of hours,” repeats Joss.

  “I heard what you said earlier, Heath. About making the most of the time we have left.”

  “And?”

  The music playing on the movie fills the silence in the room as I fight against the words but they spill. "Do you think Vee will die? Is that why you’re wasting time with this when we should be worrying about what happened to Breanna."

  "Wow. Just say what you feel." Heath shifts from Vee and sits forward, his expression sour.

  "We're supposed to be looking for a way to fix the situation, not sit around watching fucking movies!"

  “I meant we don’t have much time before we face Seth. Of course she won’t die.” Heath stands.

  “Switch the TV off and help me and Ewan.”

  "How?" snaps Heath. “Tell me exactly what we can do. Right now. Here.” He jabs a finger at the floor. I blink. “How about you call Seth? Why not have another chat with him?”

  "Fuck you." I straighten, the adrenaline flooding through me into my trembling fingers as I push a finger in his chest. "Tell me the truth. Do you doubt us? Do you think Vee will die?"

  “No. Obviously it’s you with the doubts. You’re the one obsessing about my throwaway words.”

  "Xander, stop." Vee places the large popcorn bowl on the floor. "This isn't helpful."

  "And this is?" I savagely wave a hand around me.

  Xander. Just keep it cool. Just stop. Don't look at her and imagine Vee gone. The future you don't want to face.

  Heath’s voice grows louder. "There's a fucking apocalypse waiting for us. Excuse me if I want time out to watch movies for a coupl
e of hours."

  Vee stands and approaches me, placing a hand on my arm. We've barely touched in the last few days and this is the last straw. I don't mean to hurt her, but I can't cope. I can't fucking cope.

  "Tomorrow we start again. If Seth hasn't contacted us by then, we'll search for him," she says.

  "Xander, just chill for a bit," puts in Joss.

  Joss's words are the catalyst the situation needs to explode. Chill. I snatch a bottle from the table and throw it across the room, where it hits the TV screen. The beer runs brown down the broken screen, and I snatch a second.

  "Xander!" yells a voice.

  I don't listen. I don't hear. I don't think. The world blackens into the place I hate the most. Not the dreams and visions that seep into my subconscious, but the rage and pure need to destroy.

  Vee’s in front of me. Someone grabs my arms and holds them behind my back. I can't lash out. They know me so well. I push back against whoever holds me, knowing they can never match my strength, and their grip breaks. Tramping through the broken glass, I crash through the door into my numb, dark world.

  12

  VEE

  What the hell was that?

  I stand in the middle of a war zone—literally a War zone—surrounded by destruction. Broken glass covers the white carpet, the drinks we shared now streak the walls. Two minutes ago, music from the movie filled the room along with our laughter. Now our snatched happiness has shattered along with the TV screen. Shards litter the floor, mingled with popcorn. I swallow as I notice spots of blood across the cream carpet in the direction Xander walked.

  "Are you okay, Vee?" Joss stands and places an arm around my shaking shoulders, hugging me to him.

  "Shit. He cracked the window." Heath points at the floor-to-ceiling glass with a massive fault line running down the centre.

  I move from Joss's embrace. "I should go after him."

  "No. Not a good idea, Vee," says Heath. "I haven't seen Xander like that for a long time. He's dangerous."

  "He wouldn't be dangerous to me." My heart speeds. "Would he?"

  "What the fuck is hap—" I turn to Ewan, who stops abruptly. He surveys the wreckage and his expression matches the others’. Worry, not anger. "What the fuck?"

  "Xander lost control." Heath pokes at some glass with his foot. "I knew this would happen soon."

  "Yeah," Joss replies. "I'm sure you've all sensed how close to the edge Xander is right now."

  My mouth dries. Yes, but not as clearly as I should. After all the closeness we gained, the truth from the book wrenched Xander away from me again. He’s back to his need to protect himself.

  Xander said “we can't exist without our fifth.” Since that day, he's slid back to existing and fought against feeling anything. A fight with himself that he just lost.

  "Then what do we do?" I ask

  "Wait. He'll be back."

  VEE

  Where would Xander go?

  I toy with the idea of following him, but the others persuade me not to. Instead, Heath walks out, and returns to say he spotted Xander sitting at the edge of the property, in the far corner of the back garden beneath a large palm tree. This satisfies the others, and even though my heart pulled me in his direction I have to listen to the men who know him best.

  Heath and Joss clear up the lounge, their low voices and sound of swept-up glass filtering through to where I sit with Joss, on a sofa in the room closest to the front door.

  I caused this.

  We were united. Now we're falling apart again.

  Eventually I doze off in Joss's arms, grateful for the soothing touch, and steady heartbeat against my cheek.

  The front door clicks closed and I move Joss’s heavy arm from around my waist. Pulling myself from his sleeping figure, I climb to my feet, groggy from dozing. Footsteps pad up the stairs before I can leave the room, and I hurry after. I find a subdued Xander in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bath, washing his feet with a towel. Blood runs into the tub. He looks up. The last few days have aged him, his eyes duller and face lined by exhaustion. He focuses back on his feet and I sit beside him on the bath.

  "How are you feeling now?" I ask.

  He doesn’t look up. "Sorry. For that."

  I smile and take the stained towel from him. "That's one word I thought I'd never hear from the old Xander."

  "What old Xander?" His words are sharp and when he looks up I cup his rough cheek in my hand.

  "The one who didn't allow himself to feel.”

  He pulls his face away and examines his foot. “I need a bandage.”

  “Don’t evade me, Xan. Allowing yourself to feel isn’t a weakness."

  "No, but losing control that badly is. I need to control this."

  "But you're out of control of everything around us. Accept that, and things will be easier."

  "I thought things were bad that day, but it doesn't compare to now."

  "You mean because you lost?"

  He looks up, his stress-lined face isn't amused. "How can you be flippant about this?"

  "Because if I think too much, it scares me," I admit.

  He scrutinises me and I see in his lost eyes what I've heard in his voice since the day we were told who I am. I thought the guys might look at me differently and become suspicious, but all I've seen is fear and concern.

  "Me too." Xander's voice is barely audible, but I didn't need him to say that. "This is not going to happen. Prophecies are bullshit stories."

  A few weeks ago, I would've agreed. I've come across people online who've sworn the end of the world was coming and nothing happened. I laughed at them.

  But that's before I met Horsemen, demons and fae. Before I met Chaos. I swallow. Wrong. I already knew Seth before the guys. What would have happened if we'd met at the cafe the way I agreed to, shortly before the guys found me? Would Seth have taken me then? He helped the others searching for the Fifth—like the fae and demon who attacked me the night Heath stepped in. Seth orchestrated the chaos that prevented them finding me quickly.

  Why did he play with us for so long?

  Again I curse myself for stupidity in repeatedly telling the guys to trust Seth. Sympathising with him. Now, I can't figure out why I did and the thought sickens me.

  Am I part of Chaos too, and that part wanted to protect and help him?

  If I am, what does that mean for everybody's future?

  Xander places his warm fingers on my cheek interrupting my thoughts. Each time Xander connects like this, the more confused I become.

  “You’ve never spoken to me about the day we found out. You really lost your shit when the Collector told us about who I am," I say.

  He shakes his head. "Of course I bloody did. Do you really think I'm going to let you die?"

  “No.”

  Xander always preferred to stay locked inside his Horsemen world, avoiding humans and their world unless necessary. He blocked out everything to strengthen his role as War. But he can't deny his human side any longer, now he's faced with a new reality tearing at his emotions.

  And my heart hurts for him.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I move closer, our bodies meeting again for the first time in days. For a moment I'm convinced Xander might push me away, but he doesn't.

  "This is killing me, Vee," he whispers. "All of this."

  This? Xander, vague as always, could be referring to so much. Perhaps everything. I run my fingers along his stubbled face and watch as I touch his lips. I focus on calming him with the power from Joss. Impossible, because there's little calm inside me.

  He doesn't respond.

  The only comfort I have with any and all of them right now is physical, and a world away from the desperate need triggered each time I use my powers. This is deeper and stronger, as if Ewan united something more than the energy we contain.

  I move my fingers to Xander's cheek and press my lips to his. For a moment, again, he doesn't respond. Heart sinking, I move my face away.

 
Suddenly, he seizes my head and crashes his mouth on mine, kissing me as fiercely as he has many times before. But this time there's an intense desperation barely held back. This kiss is as if he can't breathe without me.

  I hold Xander’s face and pull his mouth from mine. “You need to let go, Xander. It’s time.”

  Dull eyes look back at me. “I have to hold this together.”

  "You can hold some things together, but not everything. I know you loathe being out of control. Everybody does, but—"

  “But it’s my role.” He swallows. “Keeping things on track is what I do.”

  “Xander…” I run the back of my hand down his face again. “I mean you, not the situation. Face what’s holding you back. Until you get a handle on your emotions, you’ll never think clearly.”

  He looks away and a muscle ticks in his jaw. I gently turn his face back to mine. "Look at what just happened. That man wasn’t War. You weren’t fighting an enemy. There was no danger. That man was Xander. Your anger came out because you—"

  “Yeah, I know, I repress shit. That’s just how some people are, Vee.”

  “Are those people happy?”

  “How the hell should I know?” He stands and I clench my teeth. “I’m tired. Sorry for earlier.”

  “Tired of fighting with yourself?” I stand and take his hand. He doesn’t get to evade this anymore. “That energy is better directed elsewhere.”

  He pulls his hand away and pushes both into his hair, and his eyes fill with a hurt I’ve never seen before. “Don’t do this, Vee. I can’t do this.”

  “I love you, Xander. Do you realise how horrible it is to see someone you love in pain? To feel their pain?” He holds my gaze. “You can’t change me or the situation, but it’s your choice how you deal with this.”

  He drops his hands from his hair and the sadness in his face intensifies. “Remember that afternoon in the hotel?”

  “How could I forget?” I reply softly.

  “I told you the world would burn if I didn’t stay in control. If I let myself weaken when the world needed me. Remember that too?” I nod. “I’m not worried about the world burning, Vee. I’m terrified that if it does I’ll lose you in the fire.”