The Four Horsemen_Chaos

by LJ Swallow

  Ewan rubs his mouth and looks at Heath.

  "I don’t care what reason you give. Eliminate him so I don't cause problems by doing it myself."

  The conversation deadens, each person in the room preoccupied by their own thoughts. I'm most interested in what Xander's are, whether he’ll agree, and where we go from here.

  13

  HEATH

  La Fee Verte operates 24/7, but with less patrons in the daytime. Inside, some sit beneath the violet lights at the bar, drinking, and a few sit in shadowy corners holding meetings. I’d love to know exactly what about.

  Most come for their magic fix.

  Xander and me attract attention when we walk in. War and Death paying the place a visit? Everybody knows we're not just here for a drink.

  I study the people around, the obvious addicts and the deadbeats who slump over their drinks. Many shift their gazes away from me. Because I'm Death or because they've something to hide?

  I'm unsurprised when I spot Syv at the bar, chatting to the blue-haired barman. She makes sweeping gestures in the air as she does and is the most animated person in here. Xander wanders over to talk to her while I watch the door and stairs in case Mac appears, or bolts out the entrance.

  "Has she found anything connected to the rune yet?" I ask Xander when he returns.

  He shakes his head. "I asked if Mac was around, and the barman said he's upstairs."

  "Wow, way to sell out your friends."

  "The guy knows better than to lie to me. Everybody in this joint knows not to cross us, because I bet everybody here has something they'd rather we didn't know about."

  He's right. I look over, and Syv gives a small wave before returning to her drink and chat.

  "I told her about our deal with Portia."

  "Xander! Maybe you should've asked Syv to sort the situation. I don't like this."

  A skinny guy in leather and a half-shredded black vest passes with an empty glass, and determination, as he approaches the bar. Xander lowers his voice. "I don't think we need to kill Mac. I'll give him the chance to get the hell out of here and the country."

  I rub my temples. "Portia has asked us to do this. What if she finds out we didn't fulfil our end of the bargain?"

  "If she doesn't find out until after our visit to Alasdair, I'm fine. After that... I'll deal with the situation if she discovers the truth later."

  That's what I'm worried about.

  "Seriously, Heath. I'm surprised Mac's still here. Sure, these guys have nothing to do with Portia's fae, but they know how powerful she is. The owner won't be happy Mac's drawn attention to the place." He gestures to the stairs. "C'mon, I'm not hanging around."

  We tread up the narrow staircases, past the room we sat in before with the others, which is dark and empty today. There's no music and nobody dancing in the other rooms, the place a shell of the normal place, as the many people here are shells of themselves.

  We reach the top floor. A guy sits on a chair outside Mac's room, staring at the carpet as he jiggles his legs. His long black hair sweeps forward, obscuring his face, and he picks at the chair edge.

  Mac's client looks up when he hears our footsteps. Purer fae's faces are sculpted into sharp features with a strange beauty, but this fae's high cheek bones protrude in his sunken skin.

  He regards us with dulled violet eyes surrounded by dark circles. "I'm next."

  Xander doesn't respond.

  "Is Mac in there?" I ask.

  "He went into the room just after I arrived. I've been waiting ten minutes. He's late."

  I glance at Xander, who immediately tries the door handle. He rattles, and movement sounds in the room behind; a door slams.

  "There's a window in his bedroom," I say to Xander. “I saw when we found Elyssia.”

  "Fuck." In usual Xander style, he kicks at the door.

  The other guy jumps to his feet and wraps arms around himself. "Whoa, dude. Mac won't like that; he hates interruptions."

  Ignoring him, Xander kicks the door again. The chair someone pushed beneath the handle, in an attempt to stop anybody opening the door, cracks under the force. I follow as Xander strides into the room. The place looks the same as when I last walked in on Mac, swapping magic with the girl. This time the chair's broken on the floor and the door to the room we found Elyssia in is open.

  Xander rushes in. "Shit! The fucker left."

  I peer into the room after him. Clothes cover the bed; discarded items are strewn on the floor. There's no sign of a struggle; this is someone trying to decide what to take in a hurry.

  "Do you think we heard Mac leaving?"

  Xander crosses the bedroom to a dirty open window and leans out. "I'm bloody sure it was. He could've gone this way."

  Beneath the window, there's a lower floor’s flat roof between this room and the ground, but still a long drop as this is the third floor in a tall building.

  "I reckon Mac's always planned this as an escape route, and not just from us." More of Xander’s figure disappears through the window as he surveys the area. "There's a skip close enough to jump onto."

  I join him at the window. The back entrance to the club is below us, and there's no sight or sound of anybody in the dirty alleyway between this building and those opposite. In the daylight, the guy won't be able to hide long.

  "You think he just left?" I ask.

  "I wanna know who told him we were here!" Xander climbs from the window, boots thudding as he lands on the roof below. "He won't be far."

  I watch as Xander effortlessly climbs down, jumping from roof, to skip, to the ground, and I sigh before following. When I land, I trip and almost end up in a soggy cardboard box. The stench of rotting food turns my stomach, and I cover my nose with a sleeve.

  One end of the alleyway stops at a brick-walled dead end; the other leads out onto a main street. Voices and the clatter of pans and utensils sound from the open door at a nearby cafe's kitchen. Xander points. "You check in there. I'll search around. We would've seen Mac if he ran the other way. He didn't get much of a head start."

  I unsheathe the knife inside my jacket and stride into the hot kitchen and a tempting aroma of Thai spices mixed in the steam. A stout man in a chef's white clothes halts in his work and stares at me.

  "Did a guy walk in here?" I ask.

  The other man pauses from chopping vegetables and vigorously shakes his head as he eyes my weapon, gripping his knife too. "No, sir."

  "Are you sure?" I point the knife in his direction. "You'd better not be lying."

  He backs up, fear filling his features and the knife shaking in his hands. I take a quick scout around the small kitchen, but there's nowhere large enough to hide between the metal units and stovetops.

  "Did he go through there?" I point at the double doors leading through to the cafe.

  "No. Nobody came here."

  Years of this shit and reading people tell me he isn't lying, but I need to check regardless.

  I shove open the double doors between the kitchen and the cafe and walk into a room crammed with tables, chairs, and surprised people. The sedate mood drops, replaced by panic when they see Death joining them for coffee. A woman half screams as she notices my knife and grabs her toddler from the stroller beside her. A man at the nearest table jumps to his feet and steps toward me.

  "Crap. Sorry." I push the knife back into my jacket and hold my hands up. "I'm looking for someone."

  Before the stunned customers turn on me, I back up. Clashes with humans are not a good idea. Then I pause. No. He may've run through the front.

  I navigate my way around the tables and open the door with my shoulder. If Mac came out this way, he's disappeared because there’s no sign of anybody outside.

  "Excuse me," I mutter on my way back into the cafe and run back through the double doors before the man considering whether to tackle me tries. The guys in the kitchen haven't moved, and I throw them a look on the way past before I burst back into the rear alley.

  "Xande
r?" The alleyway is empty, and I stride along to check between skips and behind boxes.

  I hear a scuffle and a growling voice nearby, to my left behind piled refuse.

  Xander.

  I creep around the pile, hand on my knife hilt, and come across a dark, narrow passage between two buildings that leads between the front and rear alleyways. The space is barely wide enough for both Xander and a dishevelled Mac. He’s swapped his smart suit for dirty jeans and a heavy jacket, and has a rucksack at his feet.

  Xander holds the point of his knife in front of Mac's throat, who has his hands up in a gesture of surrender. I block the exit and wait for a signal from Xander what to do.

  "No, no!" Mac flattens himself against the wall. "Listen." He pants. "I have information."

  Xander's stance slackens slightly. "Information about what?"

  "The shit that's happening to you. I see and hear things, yeah?"

  Xander presses the point against Mac's skin. "What things? I thought you and your fucked-up mates didn't get involved."

  "Wrong." He stares back. "Some of my 'fucked-up mates' hear things too. And we know about the threat to Portia and about your Fifth and the trouble she's causing."

  "Everybody knows this, I'm sure," snaps Xander. He presses the tip closer, and it nicks Mac's skin.

  He chokes back a laugh. "Did you know some of her closest are working with the Order now?"

  "What?" I ask. "Who?"

  Mac stares between us, eyes wild. "I'll tell you if you agree to let me go." He wipes at the perspiration on his forehead.

  "If you have any useful information, yeah, we will. But you need to get far away from here. I suggest the fucking Antarctic."

  Mac pushes at Xander's arm to move the knife from his throat. "Okay. I have fae clients who want the magic I take from the kids. I sell the power for a pretty penny."

  "How?" I ask.

  "Easy. I transfer the magic to these clients the way the others do to me. Then they pay me a shit load to keep quiet."

  Xander drops his arm. "Name them. Important fae?"

  Mac swallows and touches his neck where the knife cut him. "You can guarantee my safety, right?"

  "Uh. No. But we can give you a head start."

  "Well, let's start with her adviser's husband. Logan? Heard of him."

  Holy fuck. I knew it.

  "Yeah, we're aware of him."

  "He's not someone I trade with directly, but I've heard his name. I'm certain shit's going down inside their perfect world." He laughs. "They're no better than us, but at least I know who my enemies are."

  Xander leans closer. "Tell me everything you've heard about Logan."

  "As far as I know, Logan's linked to the fae who are buying my magic to strengthen themselves. I guess he can't enlist fae at his powerful level, so he's recruiting from the bottom and helping them gain stronger magic."

  "Holy shit," I mutter. "I thought he was one of Portia's closest."

  "How do you know all this?" demands Xander.

  "Uh. When people are stoned, I ask questions and they tell me anything. It's always good to have some dirt on people in case I need to get myself out of situations like this, right?"

  "Smart guy," snarls Xander.

  "Yeah, so if you let me go, you'll understand why I'm getting the fuck out of here. What do you think'll happen if anyone discovers I opened my mouth?"

  I drag my hands through my hair, watching Xander. He's pissed off and fired up; that isn't unusual or difficult to see, but can he keep calm?

  I step forward. "Is Logan working with the Order?"

  "No clue." Xander pushes the knife at Mac again. "Seriously, man. I don't know! I don't even know why he's doing this shit. Maybe they're pissed off with Portia treating them like she's a goddess not a queen. They say the woman behaves like she's this untouchable who calls the shots. I guess they want her out."

  "Why the hell would fae want to become involved with the Order?” I ask Xander. "That makes no sense."

  "Demon claws in society," he replies, eyes still on Mac. “Logan has to be involved. Why else divide us from Portia? Who else could bring a demon close enough to assassinate her, unless he was high up in her court?”

  “We need to let her know," I say.

  "We've no proof Logan's involved. This could cause more crap between us. Talk about it later."

  Mac sucks in a breath. "Listen. Can you just let me go? Seriously, I'll get out of here, and nobody will see anything of me again."

  Xander places a hand on Mac's chest and looks around at me. We both know that's doubtful; disappearing in the supernatural world isn't easy.

  "Do you have allies?" I ask. "Someone who'll help you. And how do I know you won't run to Logan and tell them about us?"

  He pauses. "Because people have already crossed him and not survived. My chances are better if I keep away from a mind-reading, powerful fae who's big mates with demons."

  "This is insane," I mutter under my breath.

  "So?" Xander looks to me. "Let him go? Or not? I reckon a cleaner death by one of us would be better than what he could suffer at the hands of others."

  "No! Guys, come on!"

  The smug dealer we dealt with the other night when looking for Elyssia isn't so cocky now. I sense his self-preservation would stop him going to anybody else.

  "Xan, if you let him go and Portia finds out, we're in trouble."

  "He's dead anyway," Xander says to me in a flat voice. "There's no way he'll come out of this situation in one piece."

  "You'll let me take my chances, right?" He turns a pleading look to Xander. "Right?"

  "Okay. One more thing. Where do they meet? Who's in charge?"

  "C'mon, dude," he continues to plead. "I don't know that or I'd tell you!" Xander’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t move an inch. “Seriously, I know I won’t be able to hide from you guys. I’m not going to do anything to piss you off!”

  Xander finally steps back. "I'm giving you a chance, Mac. I shouldn't but I'm feeling generous. But if I find you anywhere near this place or city again, I won't hesitate to kill you. Understood?"

  Mac slides to the floor and grabs his rucksack handle, enthusing his thanks over and over. Xander leaves him where he is with a reminder what'll happen if he doesn't leave the area, then takes my arm and guides me to the edge of the passageway.

  I frown when Xander pulls us behind the skip. "We wait here. I have a feeling about something."

  I've no clue why Xander wants us hidden behind a skip, but sometimes his ideas and methods make no sense. Five minutes standing in the cold, feeling my feet numb, and I'm fed up.

  "Let's go," I complain.

  "Nope. We watch him leave."

  A figure steps from the passageway with his rucksack over one shoulder. Mac bows his head and yanks his jacket hood up to obscure his face. He hunches over and slinks along the alley without looking around, before disappearing at a faster pace around the corner onto the street.

  Xander huffs. “Okay. Nobody else is nearby.”

  A solitary snowflake drifts onto my sleeve, and I turn my head to the sky. Another flake drops onto my nose, and I wipe it away. The strange stillness that precedes a snowfall fills the sky white-grey as the final step into winter begins.

  “Let’s head home,” I say and yank my hood hard against my head.

  We tread away through the snow already dusting the ground, away from La Fee Verte and from another puzzle piece we're unsure how it fits.

  Slowly but surely things are adding up.

  14

  XANDER

  The snow falls thicker as we drive back to the house and settles on the ground. By the time we reach home, the surroundings are blanketed in white, but at least the snowstorm stopped short of creating drifts. I hope the weather doesn’t get any bloody worse, because if all goes to plan, we're headed to Scotland in a couple of days. The last thing I need is blocked roads interfering in our plans.

  Portia permitting.

  Mac's ne
ws adds another layer, and things are becoming clearer. This has to be a new alliance between a fae element and the Order. Why, though? Do they know something we don't? I can't imagine hatred of Portia would be enough to forge a new bond with their sworn enemies, which indicates the Order could be closer than we realise to getting what they want: portals open and the big guy and his army through.

  This leaves two unknowns. How far they are with their plans, and exactly what waits on the other side. In the past, the Order taunted us that we have no chance against whoever he is. Joss holds onto his theory this is Lucifer, and there's a Biblical connection, otherwise why our names? I'm not sold on that idea, but whoever or whatever waits to break through is powerful enough to devastate the world, otherwise why would our job involve protecting portals?

  "Are you okay, Xander?"

  I blink around at Heath, unaware I've sat in the car outside the house without speaking. "Yeah. My mind's on overdrive, that's all."

  "What do we do about Logan and Portia?"

  "We tell the other guys and see what they think, but I'm cautious about saying anything without proof. I don’t want to cause another shitstorm with the fae."

  Heath rubs a hand across his mouth and stares ahead into the grey afternoon.

  "But not Seth, Heath. I don't want him to know anything about this. It's bad enough he was there when she asked us to kill him. As far as he's concerned, we've done what Portia asked."

  "Might keep him on his toes."

  "Exactly." I open the car door. "I'm happy for him to keep thinking we'll take out our enemies."

  Our feet crunch across the snow, spoiling the perfect white pathway. "I'm inclined to agree with you about Logan and not saying anything to Portia yet."

  "Good. That'll help. Joss will probably disagree, but at this stage, I don't want anybody to think we're onto Logan. Portia has extra security around, and sounds like Elyssia will be under her watchful eye. As soon as we have anything concrete, I'll be straight onto her."

  I'm happy to step into a warm house after freezing my balls off hanging around alleys and dealing with Mac. I'm honest when I say I don't believe he'll survive long. I bet we're not the only ones who wanted a “friendly chat.”