1. WIDE AWAKE
An eerie hush fell over the old, deserted barn as I stared across at the two Horsemen standing before me. Liquid dread filtered into my bloodstream at breakneck speeds, making my head spin as War’s premonition replayed over and over again in my mind’s eye.
How had we not seen this coming?
How could we have been so wrong about everything?
Trace tightened his hand around mine as the angry rain continued to pelt down against the rickety structure, making it tremble under the impact. Or maybe it was me that was trembling? Honestly, I couldn’t tell. It was hard to be sure of anything anymore.
The only thing I knew for sure was that we had messed this thing up. Royally.
The Horsemen were never here for us—they were here to stop Lucifer’s seed from ever seeing the light of day. So, how had our lines gotten so crossed that I ended up killing one of the Horsemen and thus stopping them from activating the Power of Four—the one and only chance we had of stopping Lucifer’s offspring from bringing the world to its knees.
White hot rage perforated my vision as realization set in.
Pricilla had played me, that’s how. She had manipulated the facts and warped everything to make it suit her agenda, to get me to run straight into the trap she’d so carefully set out for me. And like an idiot, I played right into her hand.
That lying bitch was going to get what was coming to her. For this. For Dominic. For fucking breathing in my vicinity. I didn’t care if it was going to be the last thing I ever did; Pricilla was going to pay for this. For all of it.
Trace squeezed my hand again as if to call my attention back to him—to the moment. His blue eyes met mine and then stayed there as if to make sure I was stepping away from that edge I was getting ready to throw myself off of, and then he narrowed his gaze on the Horsemen.
“Why should we believe any of this?” he asked, obviously being far more skeptical than I was. But that was because he didn’t have all the pieces. Not the way I had them. “If you’re here for Lucifer’s spawn, or whatever you’re calling it, then why not come to us beforehand? Why not reach out to the Order?”
Famine stepped forward, clutching his bloody abdomen with an angry scowl on his face. “We don’t work for the Order. We had no reason to reach out to any of you. Perhaps you invalids should have reached out to us before—”
“Who the fuck are you calling invalids?” snapped Trace as he took a step forward, but I quickly yanked him back to my side. We really didn’t need to start a war with these guys unless we needed to, which apparently, we didn’t.
If what War had shown me was true, then we were all on the same side. A side that was quickly losing ground due to one still-missing Horsemen, and now a dead one.
“Everyone needs to calm the hell down,” I shrieked frantically as I tried to take in a steadying breath. My head was spinning faster than a merry-go-round and the last thing I wanted to do was yack all over them. We needed to regroup. To get our heads on straight. To figure out our next move. At least that was what I needed to do.
I was seriously spiraling here.
“Trace, can we go to your cabin?” I asked, turning to face him. We needed a place that was off the grid and not directly connected to me while I figured out exactly what the hell was going on in this god forsaken town.
“Of course.” He nodded and then made a face. “They’re going to have to leave their horses here though.”
“We don’t travel without our steeds,” informed War, all high and mighty.
“Well, you’re going to need to make an exception,” I answered unsympathetically. “Your buddy there is bleeding out and needs to have his wounds looked at and I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to tell the Council.” Not to mention, I needed to speak to the mother-to-be directly. To see her growing belly with my own damn eyes. As far as I was concerned, none of this was fact until I confirmed it for myself.
With an irritated groan at the back of his throat, War turned on his heel and headed to the back of the barn to tie up their horses as Trace turned to me with worry etched into his features.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his baritone voice low. “They could be lying to us.”
“They could be,” I acknowledged and then shook my head, “but I don’t think they are. Besides, if they are lying, the last thing I want to do is lose track of them.”
Trace nodded as War circled back to us.
His dark eyes were as hard as stone. “We have to wait for Death to join us.”
For a second, I thought he was speaking figuratively and looked at him as such, and then I remembered the fourth horsemen. “Right. Well, we can wait, but I don’t think your brother-from-another-mother is going to fair very well,” I said, gesturing over to the blood-soaked Famine.
He thought about it for a moment. “How far is this cabin you speak of?”
“It’s just a skip and hop through time and space.”
His stony eyes twitched with confusion.
“Trace is a Reaper,” I clarified. “He can port us there.”
His gaze darted to Trace as if to inspect his capacity to properly transport us anywhere. Appearing satisfied with his inspection, he offered a curt nod and then crossed his arms over his massive chest.
Trace quickly reached out and squeezed my hand and then tried to steady Famine with his other hand around his upper arm. Famine shucked Trace’s touch off and speared him with a look that said, ‘touch me again and I’ll make sure you die a slow, agonizing death’.
“We have to all be touching in order for him to port us there,” I said, reaching my own free hand out to War.
The two horsemen exchanged glances as if silently speaking to each other and then conceded.
Within seconds, that familiar icy air wrapped itself around my body like a frozen blanket as Trace moved us through the magnanimous maze of time and space. Before I could even shudder from the cold, we were already materializing in his father’s old cabin.
The horsemen immediately severed the connection to us, but Trace and I continued to hold hands as we acclimated to the new space and temperature.
“Nice parlor trick,” muttered Famine through clenched teeth. “Now can one of you do something about this hemorrhaging cavity in my stomach?”
Trace let go of my hand and rushed off to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit as I took in the horsemen before me, trying desperately to make sense of the mess I’d gotten myself into.
How the hell was I going to fix this one?
I needed time to think. Time to come up with a plan. Time to—
“We don’t have any more time,” answered War, his tone flat.
My surprised gaze shot up to his and then tapered. Just great. Yet another ease-dropper in the midst. I should have seen that one coming. “Well, we’re going to have to make some time. I need to figure out our next move.”
“What is there to figure out?” asked War, looking genuinely perplexed by the notion. “The objective has not changed.”
“Are you sure? Because your foursome sure has,” I pointed out with a quick gesture around the room which was clearly lacking half their horsemen pack. “Besides, Lucifer’s kid hasn’t even been born yet. There’s obviously not much you can do until that happens, right?”