Ink and Shadows (25 page)

“I’m fine.” Death steadied himself, the ground dangerously slick beneath the soles of his shoes. “It’s softer, fleshier than I thought it would be.”

“Seems pretty hard to me,” Ari growled. The wraith beat its wings, trying to get enough altitude for another dive. “Times like this make me wish I had a really long spear. Other than the one I already have, you know.”

Death waited a heartbeat before glancing under his lashes at Ari’s grinning face. Winking, the blond showed a wide swath of white teeth, his smile tinted lascivious with wicked promise. Disgusted, Death returned to staring at the winged wraith.

“That was funny,” Ari grunted, nudging his friend with his elbow. “You need to laugh sometimes, or I’m going to start taking it personally.”

Death refused to answer, turning to face the wraith’s attack. Its sharp beak snapped, a crackling boom cutting off its piercing cries. Tucking its body into a tight arrow, the bird plunged, its crippled leg flapping behind it, its maw wide open.

The bird could be powerful enough to slice one of them in two, Death realized, focusing on the angle of the bird’s attack. This wasn’t something that crawled up the food chain, battle-scarred and wary of engaging another predator. This wraith emerged from the darkness with no fear of conflict, not knowing of its own mortality and driven by the will of its creator. These were the most dangerous of creatures, summoned with enough power to cripple or kill with no thought to its own survival.

He and Ari would have to take care not to leave even the tiniest of openings for the bird to exploit. It was too strong and big for a single Horseman to fight. They couldn’t afford for either one of them to be crippled before the wraith could be killed.

With the screaming wraith fast approaching, he drew his blade up over his shoulder, feeling Ari close to him, the blond’s body searing a line of heat on Death’s side. Habit made Ari edge one step in front of Death, offering the breadth of his chest as a target to draw the bird from noticing the lean, rangy man next to him.

“Watch the beak,” Death warned Ari.

“Yeah, I think I’ve done this before, Shi.” The blond laughed at Death’s answering grumble.

“I am trying to watch out for you.”

Ari’s heart surrendered to Death, seduced by the softness in his friend’s tone. These kinds of moments, caught in a fight with the sloe-eyed Asian by his side, were what made immortality with all of its flaws worth it for Ari. Nudging the other man with his shoulder, Ari murmured, “Thanks.”

Seething, the wraith bit at the air, catching the edge of Ari’s forearm, spinning the immortal around. Jabbing his dagger up into its chest, Ari gritted his teeth when its blood poured over his bare hand, peels of skin lifting under rising blisters. Metal rattled, the thunderous sound of the bird hitting the Dumpster ringing in the Horsemen’s ears. A man jogging by glanced down the side street, perplexed by the echoing gong. The slap of his sneakers was lost to the immortals, their hearing momentarily deafened.

Turning tight on its one good leg, the bird lunged forward for a bite of Ari’s shoulder, leaving its neck open for Death’s blade. The eldest’s katana sliced into the shadowy flesh, breaking off chunks of solid muscle, peeling back the bird’s leathery skin to expose the burgundy meat below. Death’s katana smoked, the tempered steel dipping repeatedly in the creature’s acidic blood, his blows arcing away from Ari.

Pulling back into the corralled trash bins, the wraith stumbled, blood pouring from its wounds.

Beating at the air, the tip of its wing struck Death across the face, opening up a small cut over his cheek. Stepping away from the bird’s floundering blows, Ari dug the tip of his dagger into the bird’s throat, cutting down deep into the long stretch of muscle under its beak.

The bird’s head popped loose from its spine, elongated tendons snapping apart under the edge of Ari’s sharp blade. Its beak cracked where it hit a stretch of asphalt, the severed head bouncing in uneven hops along the side street’s gutter. The bird’s body thrashed about, one of its wings slamming Death against a Dumpster, the Horseman unable to get away from the dying wraith’s spasms.

Ari drove his daggers into the wraith’s muscled body, then grabbed the bird’s wing, cracking the delicate spines as he wrenched at a shoulder joint. After dragging the wraith’s weight off Death’s trapped body, Ari pulled his friend away from the dented Dumpster and ran his hands down Death’s arms to check for broken bones.

“You okay, Shi?” Ari asked, concern adding velvet to his rough whiskey voice. “Shit, that thing was strong.”

“I’m good.” Death nodded, opening his mouth wide and listening to his jaw pop back into place, the loud crack reverberating off his eardrums. “Ache a little, but I’m good.”

“Told you I’d kick its ass for you.” Ari grinned. “Damn, that was fun!”

Cupping the eldest’s face, Ari ran his thumbs over the rise of Death’s lower lip before leaning in close. Exuberant, his nerves hyped on adrenaline, Ari stole his mouth over Death’s, taking the older Horseman by surprise.

Death tasted of green tea and orange marmalade, sweetness mingled with the erotic spice of the darkness that spotted his friend’s soul. Ari murmured contentedly, taking in Death’s gasp of breath, drawing the air into his lungs to hold for a moment before reluctantly allowing it to whisper away. Nipping at the bow of Death’s upper lip, Ari stole a final brushing butterfly of a kiss, lingering against Death’s mouth with the heat of his own.

“You….” Death was unable to breathe, his thoughts scattered into flight, hematite pigeons fleeing under the attentions of a tawny hunting cat. “You never let up.”

“You already knew that about me, Shi.” Ari’s cocky grin mocked Death’s halfhearted protest, the older Horseman not pulling away from Ari’s grasp. “I was happy to save your ass. I have plans for it, you know. Let’s find the others and head home. I need some lunch. Killing makes me hungry.”

M
AL
GLANCED
behind him, his thoughts on the two Horsemen they’d left behind. The Mustang’s tires hit the curb hard, jostling Mal into the car door. He bit his tongue, tasting his own blood in the back of his throat. The coppery taint made him sick, a roil of metallic disgust filtering up to his nose.

The walls of a bank rippled with shadow as they passed. Scenting the presence of the Horsemen, a large wraith broke free to hunt its prey, its forming head searching the streets for the pull on the Veil.

The creature swooped around a squat building, snarling while it chased the car.

Min spotted the glimmer of red in its visible eye, swearing, then hitting the gas pedal, hoping to distance the Mustang from the hunting shadow. She wasn’t deluded into thinking they could outpace the powerful creature, despite Ari’s choice in cars. The siren call of the two Horsemen would draw it in, the ripples of their moving through the Veil nearly impossible to hide from something created out of chaos.

“Min, there’s a wraith hunting us.” Mal grabbed at the dashboard, trying to keep his seat as he watched the creature gain ground on them.

“Mal, shut up and tell me where I’m going.” Min hooked the car into another lane, avoiding a lumbering red Caltrans bus. The Mustang screamed in response, the tires catching on the street’s slick, plastic white lines. “I know there’s something hunting us.”

“Sorry.” Mal turned back around. The streets poured past him, a liquid flow of asphalt and green street signs. A familiar steeple-framed office whipped past, its bright blue roof faded from the harsh desert sun. Set closely against the small building, the motel faded into the background, the Mustang gunning by without a whispering hope of slowing down. “It’s behind us. Kismet’s place is back behind us.”

“I should kick your ass,” Min growled, gritting her teeth. She hit the Mustang’s brakes, its heavier rear end careening and fishtailing, tires hitting a patch of gravel. Kicking up a stream of rocks, the car slid into an alleyway, Min working to avoid a green Dumpster set diagonally against the back of a taco shop. “How far back do I have to go?”

“Just a block.” Mal counted off the streets in his head. “I think there’s two alleys and then the motel.”

“Bastard better be there. I don’t want to have to fight that wraith off ourselves.” Min winced, working the wheel hard to the left.

A concrete block hung loose from the back alley wall, unseen until she was upon it. Mortar flew up, a powdery puff hitting the side mirror, a heartbreaking gnashing sound when the car’s quarter panel tore under the block’s jagged edge. The peeling tear curled back paint, plastic, and steel, a long, undulating ripple on the Mustang’s once pristine body.

Min winced. “Fuck. Ari’s going to make my life miserable.”

“There!” Mal pointed, a gap between the buildings visible before they were upon it. The hilt of the long dagger he practiced with felt foreign and alien. Despite the long hours of training with a very patient Death, Mal knew he was no closer to being able to defend himself any better than a newborn baby.

Mal held tight to the seat, the car bucking over the cement hillocks in the pavement. “Go down there. I think it opens up to the front parking lot.”

“Think? You think it opens up?” Min cracked the steering wheel with her fist, the leather covering buckling beneath the blow.

The stretch of buildings seemed endless; then the break was suddenly upon them. Barely taking the time to slow down, the woman tapped at the parking brake, using the car’s sideways momentum to hook into the narrow space. Min yanked at the car’s steering wheel, slamming the Mustang between the wall and the back of the motel, striking a load of wooden pallets left behind a liquor store.

The hood absorbed much of the impact, a plank gouging the flat surface and rolling up over the windshield, shattering a spiderweb fracture in the glass. The creased glass splintered, folding inward as the edges of the break began to crumble. Min debated telling Mal to kick the glass out with his foot, but one glance at Mal told her he had other things on his mind. The Horseman’s stormy eyes tracked the darkness clotting the sky above them, concern for the two they’d left behind clear on his face.

Mal gripped the armrest, trying not to bite his lip. His worry had grown. The summoned bird was fully formed, an enormous airborne shape dropping from the sky, its long tail streaking up behind spread wings.
Death will be okay
, Mal told himself. Ari was there. No one could beat Ari at his own game.

Nearly hidden from view, a black tar pylon jutted up from the asphalt. The Mustang’s axel struck it, jerking the car into the air. Min swore when the Mustang’s subframe rocked wildly underneath them. Narrowly missing a chain-link fence, she swerved to avoid being struck by passing vehicles. Ignoring the shuddering coming from the undercarriage, Min gunned the car forward, sliding into the parking lot of the motel. She popped the driver’s side door open, then moved quickly out of the Mustang, casting a quick glance at the winged shadow circling over the next block.

“Find the kid and let’s go.” Min pulled her mace out of the car, stepping clear of the door. A twitch of movement caught her eye, a curtain flicker from an apartment near the lot. Male, she gathered from the squared-off fingertips she could see, a strong profile hinted at behind the soiled curtains.

The thinned Veil struck her when Min crossed out of the parking lot’s main slab, a cloying honey-like feeling over her face. It stuck to her, making it hard for her to move forward until she shed the Veil, pulling free of the shadows. Gagging at the taste of the darkness in her throat, Min shook off the sensation, the popping of her ears throwing her off balance.

Mal suffered through the shift more than she did, still new to manipulating the shadows. His body rippled with the sensation of prickly tendrils wrapping through his pores, and his lungs felt full of quicksand, a burbling mass of silica filtered through his nose and clogging his veins. The drawn thumping of his heart halted his steps, a pressure building up along his chest bone.

He’d fallen into the ocean once, discovering that the body he’d taken with him from the mortal world knew nothing about swimming. Water flooded into his throat, cutting off any airflow from his nose and mouth. Mal learned several things that day. He couldn’t drown, but water still choked him into senselessness. The drowning paled next to having the Veil pulled tight around him. As his head swam with the threat of blacking out, Mal wondered if his lungs were being ripped clean from his body and if it could hurt much more than what he felt at that moment.

“Mal,” Min said, slapping at his face. “Stay with me, brat. Step clear of it. That wraith is coming, and someone is stealing your boy.”

Blinking, Mal followed Min’s pointing finger, spotting a slinking young man leading Kismet out of his front door and back toward the rear of the building. Opening his mouth to shout at the man, Mal wasn’t prepared for the burst of activity from the apartment across the tiny courtyard.

Mal knew craziness plagued mortals, a creeping disease of the mind that seemed to leak into their features, stretching the elasticity of normal out of their faces. But the broad man coming toward them had left his sanity somewhere in the darkened, cramped room Mal could see through the open door.

The man’s uneven screaming sharpened when he hit the pavement running. Powerful legs carried the human closer, his hand clenched tightly around wicked-looking black steel. It was obvious he saw the Horsemen from his insanity, or the Veil had thinned so much that they were visible to the casual passerby. The foaming spit across his open mouth lent weight to the former.

“Gun.” Min identified and dismissed the threat. Unless the madman came at them with a blade or even the butt of the weapon, neither Horsemen had to worry about him. Min quickly located their prey, along with the overly familiar face of one of the Vices creeping around the walkway, hoping to reach the back exit and escape into the alleyway.

“Fucking Lust.” Min jerked her chin toward the young men, ignoring the raving man careening toward the Horsemen. “You grab the kid. I’ll take care of the Vice. If we hurry, we can make it back to help Death and War.”