Lethal Rider

Nineteen

Sunshine. Pestilence hated it. And yet, when killing and fucking didn’t soothe him, sunshine did. No doubt the warmth was a comfort left over from the days before his Seal broke, when that fool, Reseph, hung out on beaches with females and margaritas.

Just last night, Pestilence had dreamed of one of those times, one of Limos’s shindigs on a secluded California beach.

It might not have been the best of Limos’s parties, but it was the one that stuck out in Reseph’s memory the most. Even over the ball Limos had thrown in 1888 London, where Thanatos went ghastbat-shit crazy and killed one of the guests. Reseph never knew what had set Than off, but thanks to Thanatos, the serial killer demon the papers had dubbed Jack The Ripper never struck again.

Pestilence wondered where the Ripper’s demon soul was. He could be a lot of fun to let loose on the world again. There were hundreds of thousands of demon souls Pestilence wanted to unleash on the human world, and as soon as he destroyed Azagoth and Hades, he’d do exactly that. The problem was finding someone who knew where the Grim Reaper’s realm was located. Only a certain class of angel knew the location, and it wasn’t easy to catch one of the slippery buggers. Memitim were crafty. And more hardy than he’d anticipated.

He’d managed to capture one, but the male had withstood two solid weeks of torture without revealing a single useful detail. Now his stuffed and mounted body swung from the Sydney Harbor Bridge.

No matter. Lucifer, who was still pissed as hell at the Horsemen, and Limos specifically for killing his pet fallen angel, had reminded Pestilence that an ex-Memitim was sitting right under their noses: Idess, the very ex-Memitim who had performed the marriage ceremony for Limos and Arik.

How things came full circle, didn’t they? Pestilence was going to make Idess talk. And scream. And after she revealed Azagoth’s location, he’d make her scream some more.

He glanced down at his watch, wondering if Than had found the present Pestilence had left for him yet. Surely he was done with the daywalkers at Notre Dame by now. And what Pestilence wouldn’t have given to see the look on Than’s face when he learned that the daywalkers were siding with Pestilence.

His arrangement with the vampires was a perfect double-tap to the head with demon-caliber slugs. Not only was it one huge fuck you to Thanatos, but it could put the Apocalypse into motion. The angrier his brother got, the more mistakes he’d make, leaving openings Pestilence could exploit. And, if Pestilence played his cards right, Than’s temper would put him into a murderous rage, and he’d kill the baby himself.

Smiling, Pestilence tossed a seashell into the ocean waves on the Santa Barbara beach where Limos’s party had been. The shell made a plopping noise as it hit the sunlit water. This was what he’d done the day of Limos’s party, after all the guests had gone and Limos was sleeping off a week’s worth of rum and tequila. Reseph hadn’t been tired… just pleasantly sedate. He’d drunk lots of booze, had lots of sex, and had played his ass off in the water and on the sand. With everyone gone, he’d stood at the shoreline and chucked rocks and shells into the surf.

Than eased up to him, all silent and broody.

“’Sup.” Reseph winged another shell into the water.

“Nothing.”

Yeah, there was no “nothing” when it came to Thanatos. If he joined you silently, he wanted something, even if it was only companionship. Limos and Ares would prod Than for info, but Reseph knew better. The guy opened up when he was ready, and if you pushed, you were either looking at an empty space, or you were looking at knuckles in your face.

Reseph liked his nose unbroken and his teeth where they were, thank you very much.

They stood like that for a good ten minutes, Reseph plunking rocks and shells into the waves, and Thanatos doing his mannequin imitation. Finally, Than took a deep, resigned breath.

“I’m tired.”

“That’s what beds are for.”

Than closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sun. “Not like that. I’m tired of nothing changing.”

“Dude.” Reseph snorted. “Wheels hadn’t even been invented when we were born. Now there are people hanging out in space. Things change.”

“We had wheels,” Than said dryly. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Reseph knew that. “You’re talking about you.”

“I’m talking about you.” Than pegged Reseph with a hard look. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Ah… thanks? Can I call you an obnoxious asshole now?”

Than snorted. “Like you ever needed permission.”

“True.” Reseph punched him in the shoulder. “You’re an obnoxious asshole. Now, why am I a fucking idiot?”

“Man, you just opened a lot of doors with that question.” Thanatos grinned, and Reseph punched him again, harder. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll narrow it down.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Reseph said, barely resisting an eye roll.

“You’re a whore.”

Reseph blinked. “I’m failing to see the problem.”

A breeze kicked up, and Than turned into it like a dog with his head out of a car window. “Don’t you want more? After five thousand years of screwing everything in sight, don’t you want to settle down with a mate? Don’t you want kids?”

A twinge of guilt soured the gallon of piña coladas in his stomach. They weren’t talking about Reseph… they were talking about Than.

That was how Than worked. He couldn’t just come out and say that he wanted a family so bad it hurt… he had

to take the longest fucking route he could and make you read between the lines. Of course, if Reseph said flat-out that he knew the deal, Than would only retreat or attack, so Reseph proceeded carefully.

Which really wasn’t his style. But Thanatos didn’t open up often, and Reseph wasn’t going to make him regret doing it.

“I don’t want kids.” Reseph tossed another shell. “I mean, they’re cute… from a distance. Like opossums. And a mate? That would seriously put a damper on my sex life. It’s like, the chicks get hotter every hundred years or so. What if I took a mate today, and then in a hundred years, they’ve all evolved into supermodels?”

Thanatos muttered something that sounded a lot like “fucking idiot.” “So you’ve never met anyone who even tempted you into more than a one-night stand?”

He shrugged. “There’s been a few. Remember that succubus from Sri Lanka? I kept her around for an entire month.”

“Exclusively?”

“No. Duh.” Reseph reached up and scratched his chest, which had grown oddly tight. “Immortal females are great to party with, but keeping them around as mates? Eternity is a long time to be stuck with one female. And humans…”

“They die.”

Easily. They died so … easily. And early. Their lifespans were so pathetically short. The tightness squeezed harder, until it almost hurt to breathe. He’d lost a human once, and somehow that pain had survived the centuries. It wouldn’t happen again.

“If you could have a mate and kids, would you?” Reseph asked.

Silence stretched, broken by the waves and the occasional seagull. Thanatos scooped up his own handful of rocks and shells and heaved them all into the water.

“In a heartbeat,” he said quietly. “I would give up everything, my very soul, to have just one human lifetime with a mate and children.”

The skin on the back of Pestilence’s neck prickled, and he turned away from the ocean just as Harvester materialized in front of him. She looked like hell, but she somehow still managed to look extremely fuckable. He couldn’t wait for the Apocalypse to start so he could have her anytime he wanted.

She cut right to the chase, which he appreciated. “Your fucking ex-Watcher needs to die.”

“Gethel?”

“Who else?” she screeched. “I’m going to pluck her feathers and shove every one of them up her ass before I make a halo out of her skull.”

“I’d like to see that. Lemme know when tickets go on sale.”

Harvester practically shook with fury, her black wings quivering against her slender shoulders. “How did you know to trace Thanatos to Aegis Headquarters?”

He tapped his temple. “Brotherly intuition.”

“Bullshit.”

He heaved a sigh. “Okay, you caught me. I was tipped off.”

“By who?”

“Shouldn’t that be ‘whom’?” He shrugged. “I was never good at all that language-y stuff.”

Harvester, clearly lacking a sense of humor today, blew a gasket. She came a foot off the sand, wings spread, her eyes glowing red and her fangs jutting from her gums. “I don’t give a fuck! Who tipped you off?”

He had her on her back, wings crumpled beneath her, his hand on her throat, before the echo of her words faded from the salt air.

“You do not yell at me, you winged whore.” He inhaled, taking in her anger and her fear. The latter made his cock hard. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, or I’d school you on what a female like you should be doing with her mouth.” He dragged his free hand down her throat to her breast, where he flicked his thumb over the nipple. “When the Apocalypse starts, we’ll rule the world, make beautiful hellspawn, and drink the blood of virgins before we fuck them.” God, his dick was so hard it hurt.

“I’d sooner screw Reaver than you,” she ground out.

He nodded. “Good idea. We’ll both do him after Than’s Seal breaks.”

Harvester hissed and rolled out from under Pestilence. He stayed in the sand, stretched out, propped up on an elbow.

“Who? Who tipped you off? Answer me!”

“You’re a goddamned angel with a bone.” He fell back on the beach with a sigh. “Fine. It was Lucifer. No idea who he got the intel from. I actually thought it was from you. Came to him via a khnive.”

Khnives… nasty creatures that could be summoned as spies or messengers. Someone was fond of using them, as evidenced by the fact that dozens had been summoned to attack Limos’s husband, Arik, a few months ago.

Pestilence would love to know who to thank, but that was the thing about Apocalypses… so much behind-the-scenes maneuvering.

Harvester flashed out of there without so much as a thank you. The bitch. He’d teach her some manners once she was his.

Wouldn’t be long. Smiling, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny blue rattle. It was his gift to his unborn nephew. Pestilence figured that a baby who was going to have a dagger plunged into his heart just moments after birth should at least get a gift.

He shook the tiny toy, the sound giving him shivers of pleasure. I would give up everything, my very soul, to have just one human lifetime with a mate and children.

Thanatos’s prophetic words rang through Pestilence’s ears, a perfect accompaniment to the tinny noise of the rattle. Thanatos would have his child, and its death would cost him his Seal… and his soul.