Lethal Rider

They’re slaughtering everyone.”

“It’s blatant.” Ares’s deep voice was as clipped as his movements, which meant he was fully engaged in strategy mode. “It’s either a message or a trap.”

Thanatos’s gut twisted. “Either way, it’s meant for me.” He nodded at Limos. “Take Regan back to my place. Ares, let’s see what they want. And then we’ll kill them.”

* * *

Notre Dame.

Thanatos had witnessed much of its construction. Now he was witnessing horrific destruction as a dozen daywalkers defiled the cathedral with demonic energy and human suffering.

A local Aegis cell had joined forces with the police to keep everyone out, but they couldn’t block Ares and Thanatos, who passed through the blockade invisibly, hidden within a Khote spell. Inside, Nulls shot around like wisps of black smoke, and vampires crouched on ledges, watching as Ares and Thanatos walked across a floor smeared with blood and littered with dead and injured humans.

“Who is in charge here?” Than called out.

The Nulls screeched, nearly drowning out the deep laughter of a blond vampire who emerged from between two pillars, his teeth glistening with the remains of his last meal.

“You can call me Medras.” He leaped onto an organ, the thud of his boots echoing off the walls. Blood stained his faded jeans and white shirt and streaked his arms. The scent of death clung to him, and Than’s insides buzzed with his own desire to kill.

“Jesus,” Ares murmured as he took in the vampires assembled around them. “How many daywalkers did you make?”

Thanatos swallowed, his throat burning with self-loathing. “More than I thought. I don’t know how—”

“You don’t know how?” Medras snarled. “Let me remind you. I was a monk, traveling through Franconia with my brothers, and you set upon us like an animal. Do you even remember that?”

No, Than didn’t. He thought he knew of all incidents, but maybe he’d been in one of his killing rampages. Oh, God, how many more daywalkers existed than he’d believed?

“I didn’t think you recognized me.” Bitterness permeated every one of Medras’s words. “But I will never forget your face. Nor will I forget the evil that took over my body and forced me to kill so many until I gained control of my bloodlust.” In a smooth surge, he swept a cowering human off the floor.

“Stop!” Thanatos started toward the vampire, but froze when Medras put a blade to the human’s throat.

“One step closer, and he dies.”

“If this is control over your bloodlust, then you’d better work a little harder,” Than growled. Not that he had much room to talk. “Why are you doing this?”

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, drenching Medras in a kaleidoscope of light as he sneered at Than. “You haven’t figured it out yet? You haven’t gotten it through your thick head that daywalkers don’t want to serve you? We want our freedom.”

“Fools. I’m protecting you. Protecting the entire vampire race.”

“Not anymore, Bludrexe. Once the Apocalypse starts, we won’t need your protection. All we have to do is kill your brat and break your Seal.”

Thanatos hissed and, for the first time in front of Ares, let his fangs slice down in fury. “How did you know about my Seal? You couldn’t have put all of this together without help.”

“True. My brethren and I have been in hiding for centuries, but we were able to keep an eye on you. Not all of your little house slaves are happy, Horseman.”

Than was going to rip this bastard’s balls off and feed them to him. “So one of my servants reported back to you about my impending fatherhood. But that doesn’t explain why you think harming the child will get you what you want.”

“Because, you simpleton. We’re tired of hiding, so we went to your brother. He was very interested to know our origins. We were interested to know that killing your bastard would break your Seal. Pestilence promised us power over the nightwalkers and freedom from your rule if we pledged allegiance to him in the Final Battle.”

The Final Battle, in Daemonica prophecy, was the battle between all four of the Horsemen, when they fought each other for ultimate control of the Earth. Knowing that Than’s own creations wouldn’t stand with him pissed him the hell off. The betrayals kept coming. At this rate, Ares and Limos would turn against him before the end of the day.

Fury iced over his heart and added to the growing sinister vibration inside that demanded he seek out some massive scene of death. The draw to death had been muted while he’d been with Regan and the baby, but now that he was away from her, it roared back with a vengeance, clouding his mind and darkening his thoughts.

“How many of you are there?”

“There are clans all over the world, all united against you.”

“And amongst my staff?”

“For some reason, there are those who are loyal to you. But I’ll not say who.” Medras smiled. “What’s the matter, Bludrexe? Are you feeling the need to go somewhere?”

“I feel it, too.” Ares shifted his weight, growing as restless as Than. “Pestilence has done something … bad.”

Shit. Than tried to open a Harrowgate, but, like most major holy places, it was warded against them. “I have to get to Regan before—”

Too late. As if a massive hand had reached out of thin air and grabbed him, Than was snatched away and dropped into the middle of a nightmare he’d been through before.

The stench of death became a heady drug as he called out Styx and palmed his scythe. Must … kill. The desire to relieve bodies of their souls clamored loudly in his skull, but another, newer desire warred with it.

Regan.

No. Oh, God, no. Half of him wanted her naked, screaming his name as he thrust between her creamy thighs. He wanted to claim her, mark her, use her so thoroughly that she’d be too tired to ever leave his bed. The other half of him wanted to kill, to draw blood and destroy everything in his path.

He roared in confusion and fury, trying desperately to hold onto conscious thought, because if he didn’t, if he let the death haze take him in a killing rampage, he might just let both halves win.

And then his draw to Regan and his desire to kill could become one and the same, and Regan would die.

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