by Kresley Cole
Jack shot the man between the eyes. "Fuckin' hate slavers." He collected his arrows.
The radio blared a moment later: "I heard that gunshot earlier, you assholes. I ain't gonna tell you again--no wasting bullets on straggler Bagmen. Do you dipshits copy?"
Jack lifted his gaze. Toward the slaver's house? The one packed with fifteen armed men?
"Jack . . . what are you doing?"
He'd already dropped off the other side of the bus.
"Your mortal's storming the slaver den." Aric's tone was half-amused, half-approving. "I'm hereby inviting myself on his incursion." Eyes lively, he spurred his horse up to the razor wire--and didn't stop.
Like a bulldozer, Thanatos barreled through, catching the wire on its own armor, dragging the snarl free. Barricade destroyed, Aric charged after Jack. I followed.
The slaver boss lived in a sprawling two-story farmhouse that was lit up like a home from before the Flash. Off to the side, gas-guzzling generators hummed. His business must be flourishing.
Aric galloped past Jack to the front entrance. Jack cussed him in French, sprinting on foot to catch up.
In one fluid motion, Aric dismounted his still-moving horse. Never slowing, he strode with superhuman speed toward the front door, right up the freaking porch steps! He knocked, as if he were about to drop off a casserole, then raised his hands in surrender.
The men would have no fear of answering, would just see some strange armored guy--who had no gun.
A slaver cracked open the door with a threatening look--and a pistol aimed not a foot from Aric's chest.
Death spoke. Whatever he said made the man pull the trigger. The bullet ricocheted, plugging the slaver in the face.
Jack did a double take, then headed toward the back of the house. Aric drew his sword and breached the room.
Then . . . pandemonium.
Lamps crashed to the floor, dimming the area. Shadowy figures moved. Muzzle flashes blazed. Bullets bounced off mystical metal, a repeated ping ping ping.
An amoeba would've learned by now not to shoot at Aric's armor.
Yells came from the backyard. I spurred my mare toward Jack. But he didn't need any help, was firing on any who fled. The hunter had known a sight like Death would drive the men out the back. Then he'd merely waited.
The skirmish concluded in minutes. Aric had slain everyone inside; Jack outside.
The line of bodies stretched from the backyard into the house. Right where the arrow corpses stopped, the headless ones started.
The enemy was done. Neither Jack nor Aric had allowed me to contribute whatsoever. No witch invocation necessary.
With a nod of acknowledgment toward me, Jack retrieved his arrows, his bruised face flushed with aggression--and excitement?
The heat of battle.
At the back doorway, Aric lifted the grille of his helmet, smirking at him. "Eight to seven."
"Only one ahead of me?" Jack snagged a two-way radio from a dead man's belt, clipping it to his own. "And you got body armor from head to toe."
The two of them were acting like such . . . guys. I wanted to strangle them. Neither should have been this reckless going in--or this pleased with himself afterward.
Or maybe I was aggravated that I hadn't gotten to carry my weight.
At the threshold, a man with an arrow in his eye whimpered. Still alive. Jack strode forward to finish the kill, but Death beat him to it, removing his gauntlet on the way.
Aric stared at Jack as he laid his hand over the man's face.
Ghastly black lines branched out over the half-dead slaver. He gulped a lungful to shriek, clawing Aric's hand in a frenzy.
There was no greater pain than Death's touch. It did outstrip even the plague--and my poison.
"Think twice about trying to strike me," Aric told Jack as the man went still. "Oh, and now the score's nine to six." He stood, donning his gauntlet.
Jack snared the arrow, avoiding contact with the dead man's putrefying skin.
Aric chuckled. "My touch isn't contagious, mortal. The Black Death was a tribute to me; I wasn't a tribute to it."
"All the same . . ." Jack wiped the arrowhead across the bottom of his boot. "If you're done showing off, I'm goan to clear this place." He kicked the body out of the doorway and motioned me inside so he could lock up that entrance. "We'll stay here for a spell and rest the mounts."
I bit my bottom lip. "Do we have time?" Dolor was only a day's ride away, and I burned to get to Selena.
"We'll make it up with fresh horses. Come on, you."
Claws at the ready, I followed Jack and Aric toward the front of the house. I gaped at Death's destruction: heads and bullet holes everywhere. Sofa tufting clung to the blood splatter on the walls. Guns smoked in clenched hands. The fire in the hearth flickered on, oblivious.
"I'm reluctantly impressed by your take, mortal," Death said. "I thought you were only good at thievery."
With a mean smile, Jack drawled, "Thievery's the second thing I'm really good at." He turned to me, all cockiness. "Ain't that right, bebe ?"
Death gripped the hilt of his sword. Jack had no idea how close the knight was to cutting him down.
"Aric, why don't you go retrieve your other sword?" I mentally added, You made me a promise.
--He courts his own doom.--
Please?
"Empress," he grated, inclining his head before setting off.
Once Aric was out of earshot, I told Jack, "You don't have to bait him like that."
Jack checked behind a door. Then around a corner. "I bait him to let out steam--or I blow."
"And what if you push him too far?"
"You got this idea of him as invincible. Every man's got a weakness."
Matthew had always said Aric's weakness was me.
"There's a chink somewhere in the Reaper's armor. Just need to find it, me."
Before I could say more, Jack turned toward the stairs.
On the second floor, we investigated nooks and closets. One bedroom was filled with clothes and packs--stolen from slaves--while three other rooms were furnished and spotless. But then, this boss had enjoyed free domestic labor.
"Oh ouais, we're goan to stay here tonight. The windows up here are nailed, with nothing outside to climb. Decent security."
"You don't think more slavers will show up?"
"Non. But just in case, we'll drag all the bodies around front." We descended the stairs. "Anybody with a lick of sense will keep goan."
"Why did you take such a risk earlier? Leaping to the bus?" I hadn't had a real moment to process his actions. Right now wasn't the time either, but just like Jack said, I had to let out steam. I stopped on the landing. "When I saw you get shot . . ."
He turned back toward me, curling his forefinger under my chin. "I was fine."
"Don't brush this aside."
"I can take care of myself. And I can protect you just as good as Death can. Provide, too. He only had a head start, non?"
Jack had risked his life to prove a point? Was the chip on his shoulder back?
"That bastard knew the Flash was coming and got his ducks in a row. Just give me time."
"Don't risk yourself like that again."
He dropped his hand at my no-bullshit tone. "I can't make that promise. We doan know what we might head into."
"Uh-uh. No. You don't get to take chances like that anymore. People depend on you. If I sign on with you--and that's a big if--you promised to earn my trust. You can't do that if you're dead. Maybe you do have a death wish?"
He rolled his eyes. "I doan have a--"
"Promise me you won't take any more unnecessary risks."
He opened his mouth to argue; must've seen I wasn't having it. "Fine. I promise. Satisfied, you?"
At length, I nodded.
"Then come on. Let's finish clearing this place." He led me back downstairs.
Now that we'd closed the exterior doors, the first floor had warmed up, hot air chugging from the vents. In t
he kitchen, I checked the pantry, found it stocked with canned and boxed goods.
When Aric joined us there, Jack glowered. "Thought you wouldn't darken our door for a longer spell."
"Do recall that I possess superhuman speed. I also had time to move all the bodies outside in order to ward off unwanted visitors." He'd had the same idea as Jack. "After securing the horses, I hastened to get back to my wife."
"You keep calling her that, but if some fille tried to murder me on my wedding night, I'd think twice about my nuptials."
Aric's eyes narrowed.
I got between them. "Shouldn't we search the rest of the house? The garage is left."
After a tense moment, Jack started forward. As if by silent agreement, he and Aric kept me in the middle.
When we entered the laundry room, the washing machine was changing cycles. "Why would the boss use so much electricity? With the floodlights and the heater and all these appliances, he'd have to keep generators running full-time."
"The man probably knows his fuel will turn soon," Aric said.
"Turn?"
Jack answered, "Gasoline lasts just a year or two."
"What?" I should have savored electricity more at Death's!
"It only lasts that long," Aric said blithely, "unless one had special additives infused into his stores." To me, he added, "Ours will be preserved for well over fifty years."
Jack drew up short, turning to face us. "The military's additives doan extend it more than five years."
"In the U.S.? I bought the technology from overseas."
"How many barrels you got?" Jack eyed him so keenly I figured Aric was due for a break-in soon.
"Barrels? None. I have tankers."
Jack scrubbed his hand over his chin with a hungry look. But there was also a hint of something else--surely not a grudging respect?
Aric gazed down at me. "Your dance studio will always be lit, as will your art studio. The libraries, of course. The pool will be heated as long as we live. Who needs the sun, when we have acres of sunlamps?"
My eyes darted to Jack. I could give him all the time in the world, and no matter how hard he worked, he could never match the situation at Aric's. I thought Jack was coming to the same conclusion right at that moment.
"The Empress didn't tell you what her new life was like?" Aric said. "How she was indulged in every way? She enjoyed fresh food daily and a cook to prepare it. She slept in her warm bed in a lavish tower filled with a new wardrobe and every imaginable amenity."
Jack hadn't been a fan of rich people before the Flash. I didn't see that changing just because of the apocalypse.
"She had time to read and draw. In fact"--Aric leaned in, holding Jack's gaze--"she used to dance for me every day."
That muscle ticked in Jack's jaw. He looked as pissed as he had when Aric first called me "wife." But then Jack rallied: "It wasn't like that at first, no. All that came after you got into her head. You think this ain't Stockholm syndrome?"
"The symptoms are there."
Jack blinked at Aric's frankness. "Why doan you tell me what you did after you abducted her? Evie refuses to."
"Very well. I made her walk for leagues, barefoot, coatless, and freezing. She was bound, so she couldn't break her falls. All the while she never knew if or when I would kill her." Aric's bearing wasn't proud by any means, but he seemed determined to own up to the wrongs he'd done.
It struck me; this was what forthrightness looked like.
He wasn't finished. "I laughed when she mourned you and insulted her as often as possible. I blunted her powers with a cilice that cut into her arm every hour of every day. To get free of it, she had to persuade Fauna to claw her flesh off."
My glyphs stirred as I remembered that pain.
Jack's eyes had widened. "Part of me wants to punish you for all that. Part of me wants you to keep talking, keep digging your own grave with her."
Aric exhaled wearily. "You've yet to understand what the truth is."
"And what's that?"
"Any harm I do to my pursuit of her is offset by my honesty. The Empress can handle anything but deception--because she must always know where she stands. She's been like that since the beginning of time."
He was right. I could handle losing some of my arm better than I could Jack's lies to me: "No secrets. Except for how bad I want you."
Jack wasn't deterred. "Truth? Like how you told her about her mother--out of context? Bet you couldn't wait to tell her that."
"He didn't, not for months," I said. "And only when I put pressure on him."
Aric moved in closer to me. "Had I done the same to her mother--and I would have without hesitation--the Empress would've heard of it firsthand." In a tone as old as ages, Death said, "Mortal, if there's one thing I've learned in all my years, it's this: lies are curses you place on yourself."
My lips parted. In that moment, I remembered why I'd started falling in love with Aric.
Inner shake. If only he'd learned in all his years not to coerce women into sex.
As if he'd read my mind (though I hadn't felt his presence there), Aric asked Jack, "Do you know why she left me that night?"
"To rescue me!"
"I told her I could easily free you if she slept with me. I pushed her, and instead of surrendering to me, she drugged me to escape. So if you think I could ever get that woman to do something she truly doesn't want to, you're as mistaken about her as I was."
Jack appeared to be grinding his molars. "And you tell me this too?"
"I take no actions that I wouldn't publicly recount. If you can't speak your deeds, then don't do them."
If Jack's bravery was like a living thing inside him, Aric's wisdom radiated from him.
Jack clearly didn't know what to make of Death--an uncommon situation for the perceptive Cajun. Since Jack's go-to response tended to be pure anger, with a side of action, I needed to defuse this.
"Look, guys, can we just secure the place? I'm exhausted."
I must've sounded as tired as I was because Jack nodded. "Ouais. Come on, bebe."
At the back of the laundry room was a door. A ring of keys hung from a wall peg beside it. They looked like old-timey jailor keys.
Jack raised his bow and flipped on all the light switches. "Stay back."
Aric unsheathed one of his swords, tugging me behind him.
When Jack opened the door, fluorescent bulbs sparked to life in the freezing garage, illuminating the space.
I peeked around Aric. "Oh, my God. . . ."
28
"Must be twenty of them." Jack lowered his bow.
Half-dressed men, all shivering.
Aric sheathed his sword. "They're secured." The prisoners had been shackled by the ankles to separate bolts.
"Secured?" I whispered. "Aren't we going to free them?"
Both Jack and Aric shook their heads, then seemed annoyed that they'd agreed with each other.
"Just 'cause they got caught by slavers doan mean they're innocent," Jack said. "They could be rival slavers, murderers, rapists. They doan need to have filed teeth to be cannibals."
Some of the men cast me unsettling stares. One ran his hand over his crotch as he ogled me. Ugh!
I'd so long equated shackled person with good person that I'd had a misguided impulse to help them.
A younger man among them told Jack, "I'm Rodrigo Vasquez. Franklin sent me a message, said I was supposed to meet you on the road." The guy had dark hair even longer than Gabriel's and deep brown eyes. Cute. And a friendly? "I got trapped instead."
Jack snagged the key ring, then made his way to the prisoner. "You got something else to tell me?"
"Oh. Yeah." Rodrigo rattled off a string of numbers and letters.
They had a code?
Jack unlocked him. "Go scavenge clothes and your gear. Radio your people. Tell them I'm ready to meet." The co-conspirators. His plan was coming online!
That dream of him was still fresh in my mind. I'd wondered why Matthe
w had given me such a specific vision. Maybe it had something do with Jack becoming a leader, hinting about his future, of things to come.
No man could be more driven to make something of himself.
As Rodrigo eased past me and Aric into the house, he swallowed audibly.
Aric sighed. --You'd think after two thousand years, I'd be accustomed to looks of fear.--
To the rest of the men, Jack said, "We woan kill any of you, if you cooperate. Goan to ask you some questions."
"You're the hunter!" an emaciated man exclaimed. "From Cajun country. I've heard of you."
Another guy said, "You killed a thousand Bagmen! With your bare hands."
Jack was turning into a larger-than-life legend. He just needed a blue ox named Babe.
Instead of denying such a wild claim, Jack said, "I was bored that weekend, me." He wasn't a braggart by nature, but feeding this rumor was smart.
"You ride with those Arcana," said another man.
"Got a new pair with me right now," Jack replied. "One'll be staying with me, the other'll be riding on."
Aric gave a humorless laugh. --It's almost fascinating how confident he is.-- As he'd done yesterday, Death watched him avidly.
"Back to the questions," Jack said. "Any of you a doctor?"
No raised hands.
"An electrician or a mechanic? And doan bullshit me, 'cause I know enough about either to tell if you're lying." Jack had read those trade books so he could determine whether someone had helpful skills. "Do any of you got experience that's valuable today?"
A few raised their hands.
"No attorneys," Jack bit out, and one man lowered his hand. "I ain't looking for auto detailers, hedge-fund managers, or salesmen." With a wink back at me, he said, "And for fuck's sake, no shrinks."
Zero hands were left in the air.
"I'm goan to release you when we head out. Now, some of you are probably thinking about following ma belle fille here, 'cause you're just plain stupid." He narrowed his eyes at one guy who was staring at me and licking his lips. "She is an Arcana. The Empress of them. Which means she's pretty much a wrathful Mother Nature."
--If the shoe fits.--
Shut it. I was in no mood. Though Aric's honesty had affected me, I was still a little raw from reliving those hardships.
"She's full of poison, and I've seen her tear a man in two with her vines." Jack turned to me. "Show them some of what you got, Empress."
I hesitated. I'd never demonstrated my abilities for anyone except Arcana. But then, Matthew had said remaining secret didn't matter anymore.
