Immortal Rider

Tentatively, she smoothed her fingers over his jaw. She wanted to express her regrets for what had happened to him. Wanted to tell him how amazing he was for surviving it.

All that came out was a croaked, “Arik.”

As if his name was a trigger, Arik exploded into action, scrambling off her and off the bed. “Shut up.” He stumbled backward, crashed into a dresser.

“It’s okay, Arik.” Limos sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress. “You’re safe.”

“Safe?” he asked, incredulous. “Safe? I’m in hell, you stupid demon.”

Okay, so she’d expected him to be angry about what happened to him, but stupid demon? Awkwardly, she grabbed for her shirt. “Listen to me—”

“Who are you?”

She blinked. He didn’t recognize her? He’d just done the humpty all over her, and he hadn’t even known who was beneath him?

Humiliation seared her cheeks as she wiped his now-cold se**n off her belly with a bed sheet and then jerked the shirt over her head. “It’s me, Limos.”

“Bullshit. Get out of my head.” His eyes were wild, he was panting, and through the heady fragrance of sex, she could smell his anger and confusion. “Get out now.”

She modulated her voice, trying to calm him. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He looked at her like she was the crazy one here. “You can’t trick me.” With a swipe of his arm, he knocked the vase of fresh flowers off her night stand. The glass shattered against the wall, and water and broken flowers spilled across the hardwood floor. “This shit isn’t real. I know I’m in my cell, and you’re really some hideous demon pretending to be… her.”

“Pretending to be me? Limos?”

“You can’t get me to say her name, so put a lid on this damned charade now.” He looked down at himself. “Jesus, I don’t even get clothes in this acid trip?”

Shit. He really did think demons had gotten in his head and were making him see things that weren’t real.

“Arik, try to remember.” She eased to her feet, doing her best not to startle him. He was like a wild animal, cornered and injured, dangerously unpredictable. “You were imprisoned for a month. I don’t know how you got out of your cell, but I found you at the Erta Ale hellmouth. You were unconscious. I brought you here, to Hawaii, and Eidolon and Shade h Sn a foealed you.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed his head with both hands, as though trying to keep it from rolling off his shoulders. “For God’s sake, shut up.”

Limos exhaled slowly, unsure how to handle this. Clearly, her presence was agitating him.

“I’m going to get you something to wear and eat, okay? Why don’t you clean up. Get comfortable. There are new toothbrushes and toothpastes and soaps in the bathroom.” She gestured to the patio door. “You can go out on the patio, but there will be guards below. You’re not a prisoner, but until you’re better, I can’t allow you to leave.”

He glared. “How does not being allowed to leave not make me a prisoner?”

“Because I said so.”

Oh, that was mature. Dammit, Arik had a way of calling her out and throwing her off balance. She needed to regroup. Fast.

Heart racing like she’d run a marathon, she practically hurled herself out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen, where she sent a quick text to Thanatos to bring some clothes. Then she settled in to doing the only thing she could think of to help Arik; feed him. She slapped together a sandwich piled high with sliced turkey, cut a wedge of banana cream pie, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

The sound of footsteps froze her to the floor before she’d taken three steps back to the counter.

Reseph.

She’d know the cadence of his saunter anywhere. Except he wasn’t Reseph anymore, and though ninety-nine percent of the time she was well aware of that fact, sometimes she slipped, her mind taking her back to memories of him doing something familiar, like bopping through her house looking to party, or pestering her into going to a movie with him.

“Hey, sis,” he drawled, as he set up shop in the doorway, his big, armored body blocking the way to Arik’s room. “Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your pathetic human pet?”

“He escaped, you liar.”

“He got out of his cell,” Pestilence countered, “but I got him to the hellmouth entrance before demons got him. Granted, I left him in worse condition than I found him, but there’s always a trade-off, isn’t there?”

“You,” she snarled. “You’re the reason he was so battered.”

He shrugged, one of the spiked metal shoulder plates carving a deep groove into the white paint on the doorjamb. “I didn’t do anything his captors hadn’t done to him. Or would have done to him if you hadn’t gotten to him before Sartael’s team did.”

“You’re despicable.”

Pestilence clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

Oh, she’d like to wound him, all right. “What do you want? I did what you as Sd wence clutcked, so get the hell out of my house.”

Her brother fingered the engraved bow-and-arrow symbol on the back of his gauntlet. The right touch would pop a real weapon into his hand, and Limos hoped he didn’t suddenly decide to put an arrow between her eyes.

“I came to give you a heads-up,” he said, halting the finger play.

She stared. “Really.”

“Yup.” The amused glint in his eyes grew sinister, and his lips peeled back from fangs as long as her pinky. “I fed from your boy. He’s smooth going down. When your Seal breaks, you can see for yourself.”

Fury that he’d stuck those fangs into Arik was a gasoline fire in her veins. Her brother had committed violence against Arik, had hurt and used him, but there was an envious element to her anger, as well. Pestilence had been intimate with Arik… granted, the intimacy was sick and twisted, but there was definitely a forced closeness to feeding, to the penetration, and she had no doubt her brother had gotten off on what he’d done.

Even though she wanted to hurl one of the knives from the butcher block at Pestilence’s head, she didn’t give her brother the satisfaction.

“My Seal isn’t going to break,” she said calmly.

“It will.” Pestilence pushed off the doorframe. “That’s the only reason I haven’t killed the human yet. I want you to be the one who does it. I want to watch when you drink him to death.”

“Why would it matter to you if he’s dead?”

“Because,” he said, his voice as dark as the black stuff leaking from the joints of his armor, “he fed from me too. Which means that when he dies, his soul is mine. And I have plans for it.”

Horror clamped down hard on Limos’s throat, squeezing so viciously she couldn’t breathe, and she fought the urge to launch herself at him.

When she could speak again, her voice was a raw rasp. “Why? Why would you do that?”

But before the question was even fully out of her mouth, she knew. Every soul Pestilence took made him stronger, but this went far beyond that.

“Yeah,” Pestilence drawled. “You know why. You always had more brains than boobs.” He flashed his fangs. “Your husband will give me anything I want in trade for Arik’s soul.”

Her calm evaporated. She snatched up a butcher knife and hurled it with all her strength.

Pestilence took a graceful sidestep, and the blade punched into the wall, the handle vibrating harmlessly. Casting a smile over his shoulder, he took the corner, disappearing from her sight.

That a**hole. That goddamned son of a bitch!

Closing her eyes, she planted her fists on the counter and stood there until her blood pressure wasn’t in danger of blowing out her eardrums. But e Srdred ven as the thud faded away, she once again heard the sound of footsteps. At least this time, it was Thanatos who stepped into the kitchen, wearing his usual black pants and a long black coat that buckled from the high collar to the waist. She’d bet he had on a black turtleneck under it. Instead of his favorite thick-soled Goth boots, he wore combat boots.

“You look like hell.” He tossed a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt onto the table. “And why is there a knife in the wall?”

“Pestilence was just here, and that knife was meant for the back of his skull.”

Thanatos tensed, his yellow eyes darkening to a golden amber. All around him, shadows gathered. “What did he want?”

“Mostly to taunt me.”

God, she hated this. Hated that her brother had gone evil. Hated that he had so much power over her. Hated that he now owned Arik in a way she never would. Not that she wanted to own his soul, but she definitely didn’t want Pestilence having it. Arik was… what? Hers? Impossible, even if he didn’t hate her.

Thanatos had gone still, as if considering what their brother might have done to taunt her. She expected him to ask, so she was surprised when he said, “How’s the human doing?”

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t remember escaping.”

“Did you mess with his memories?”

She and her brothers could erase memories—depending on the situation and individual, they usually couldn’t go back more than a couple of hours or so, but often, that was all that was needed.

“I haven’t done anything to his mind. He thinks he’s still in Sheoul.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m a little worried.” A little? She was freaked.

“Yeah, well, remember how screwed up you were after you got away from The Aegis?”

How could she forget? Those bastards had paralyzed her with hellhound spit and kept her in a dungeon while they poked and prodded, and threw in a little torture for fun. Reseph had rescued her, and she’d spent two full days trying to get her bearings.

“He just needs some time.”

Thanatos shifted his weight. “Speaking of that…”