Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1) (11 page)

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mal said, his hands clenching into fists.

“This is going to take even longer if you keep interrupting me.” Sabastin shook his head. “We can do this nicely, or I can knock you both unconscious and take you to my evil lair. I’ll admit, I’m partial to that idea because I keep my cigars there.” He held out his hands palms up. “Decide now.”

Kim put her hand on Mal’s shoulder and squeezed in an effort to keep him from doing something stupid. His skin was so warm, it surprised her. Earlier it had been as cold as ice. That didn’t bode well. “We’ll listen and then decide. How about that?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sabastin moved past them and sat on the hood of her Civic. “Anyway, the last time the four showed up, it was to stop the Norse god Loki from unleashing Ragnarok. In case you don’t know, Ragnarok is the Norse version of the apocalypse.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Mal asked. “That’s all just myth.”

“No, the myth is that Loki succeeded in destroying the Norse Pantheon. He almost succeeded too. So what did Odin do? He locked Loki up, binding him in a deep, dark cave. Unfortunately, the underworld has been going crazy lately. Something bad is coming. Something really bad. It has allowed the Loki’s monstrous middle child to awaken.” He pointed at Malcom. “Do you know who that is?”

“I must have missed Norse mythology,” Malcom said as Kim reached out and took his hand, though she wasn’t sure why. The moment she touched him, he seemed to ease.

“The world serpent. A creature so massive if it actually pulled its bulk from the nether and tried to slither across the earth, it would encircle the globe.” Sabastin leaned back on the hood. “Thankfully, that’s pretty much untenable, so he usually just picks a body to inhabit.”

“And he’s picked your daughter?” Kim asked.

“Yes.” The man nodded grimly.

“Why?” she asked, and Sabastin sighed.

“Because she’s strong. Too strong for her own good. Jormungand is powerful, but his power is limited by the strength of the body he possesses. He’s moving into his end game, that’s why he took her body. It makes sense if you think about it.”

“And what’s his endgame?” Mal asked, concern filling his voice.

“To awaken Loki and bring about Ragnarok. Most of the old gods aren’t in the realm now, but let’s just say our small world probably won’t survive a battle of godly proportions if they decide to come back. The world will run with blood, civilization will be destroyed, et cetera, et cetera.” Sabastin made a “you know” gesture.

“What if they stay away?” Kim asked, swallowing down the fear creeping up her throat and making it hard for her to breathe. What Sabastin was saying sounded insane, but what if he was telling the truth. What if Ragnarok was really beginning? What if they were all doomed?

“That’s worse. A lot worse.” Sabastin shook his head. “First, all the people like me will step in, and in all honesty, be killed trying to save the world. Then Loki and his ilk will sweep in and take over with no one to stop them. You won’t like that because you’ll either be dead or imprisoned by them.” His words made her knees shake, not because they were inherently scary, but because of the truth in them. She wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but she was sure of one thing. He believed what he said.

“And how are we supposed to stop Jormungand?” Malcom asked. “Assuming I believe you.”

Sabastin laughed, but it wasn’t as mirthful as it should have been. “The four of you need to awaken and call upon your mantles. If you do that, you’ll be strong enough to kill anyone, even a god.” Sabastin glanced from Kim to Mal. His eyes lingered there for a long time before he said more. “Especially you, Mors.”

“Why does everyone keep calling him Mors, and what’s with the Victoria thing?” Kim asked as the hair on the back of neck stood up. The wind whipped around them and thunder boomed in the darkened sky.

“Victoria, Bellum, Fames, and Mors are the names of the four horsemen.” Sabastin let out a slow breath. “But you may know them as Conquest, War, Famine, and Death.” He pointed at Kim. “You may not realize it, but you have the mantle of Conquest flowing around your shoulders like a cloak. It is coloring your every action, every gesture, every thought.” Sabastin jerked his thumb at Malcom. “He wears the mantle of Death. It’s probably why you two feel drawn together because the four mantles are always drawn together in times of chaos and uncertainty.” The man shot them a sad, knowing smile. “Of course, this leaves us with two very important questions. Who wears the mantles of War and Famine, and where are they?”

If what he said was true, then it certainly explained why she felt so drawn to Malcom, why they had stayed together when it made no sense for them to do so… The thought made her cringe. Had their entire relationship been a lie predicated on supernatural chutzpah?

Ian 01:07

Why hadn’t anyone come to save him? Ian shook his head. The thought replayed itself over and over in his mind, never stopping, never slowing. For a while, he had held out hope someone would come to rescue him, but as the days passed, the truth of his situation hit him like a hammer. No one was coming.

The door creaked open, its bottom scraping against the stone. Vali stood there with Amy cradled lifelessly in his arms. He smiled though it didn’t quite reach his eyes and stepped into the room. A gust of heat followed him, raising the temperature from ice cold to sweltering in the space of a breath.

Vali glanced around, looking for something before shrugging. “Oh well,” he murmured so quietly, Ian almost didn’t hear it. Vali knelt down and laid Amy in the center of the floor. Her chest barely moved as she breathed, her lips slightly parted. Vali stood and turned to leave.

Without thinking, Ian lunged at him. His shoulder slammed into Vali’s back, sending them both crashing to the ground. Vali tried to move, tried to throw Ian off, but Ian grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face into the stone with a wet sounding squelch. He felt Vali go still beneath his hands, but still he continued to smash him into the ground. Something inside him roared, filling him up and drowning out everything in a sea of scarlet.

“Ian, stop,” Jesse said, and Ian felt his friend’s hand on his shoulder. Ian shook himself, and the red haze filling his vision faded… a little.

“Jesse,” Ian said. The word felt foreign in his mouth. He paused, sitting back on his haunches as Vali’s blood soaked through the knees of his jeans. For some reason, it wasn’t as disconcerting as it should have been.

“Ian… are you okay?” Jesse asked, grabbing Ian by the wrist and pulling him from Vali’s broken, bloody body.

“I’m fine,” Ian swallowed, trying to ignore the unrelenting hunger burning within him. The urge to feed was so overwhelming, he could barely function. He turned, glancing at Jesse. The veins in his friend’s neck pulsed, and for a moment, he could hear the warm blood shooting through Jesse’s body. All he had to do was lean forward. He could bite down, tear the flesh from Jesse’s throat… let the blood gush into his mouth.

Ian shut his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the hunger welling up inside him like the yearning of a great beast. No. He wouldn’t give in. He wouldn’t eat his friend, and as the thought reverberated in his head a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he seriously just considered drinking his friend’s blood and consuming his flesh? Seriously?

“Can you carry Amy?” Ian asked, turning away from his friend because as much as he hated to admit it, Jesse seemed like food. “We need to get out of here before Vali wakes back up.”

Something slammed him sideways into the wall so hard it made his teeth clamp together. The taste of copper pennies filled his mouth as his eyes shot open. Vali stood there, pinning him to the wall with one forearm. Blood dripped down his face, and his mouth was a horrible, misshapen lump of flesh.

“I knew eventually one of you had to awaken.” Vali shook his head. “I should have been more careful, Fames.” Vali slammed him backward against the wall, and Ian’s vision went hazy. Red clouded his sight, and his stomach rumbled. “You cannot escape.”

Ian felt so cold his insides burned. Frost crept along the wall behind him, spiraling outward in an endless sheen. The air filled with snow. The hunger shrieked in his head. It must be fed. His hunger was unrelenting, unending and it felt like it would never be satisfied. It would devour everything.

A scream tore from Ian’s lips and the wind threw Vali backward across the tiny cell in a flurry of snow and hail. The hunger rose up inside him, swallowing everything in his path, dousing the world in unrelenting winter. Ice spread out beneath his feet as he crossed the distance between them.

His hands curled into fists as Jesse scooped up Amy, cradling the unconscious girl in his arms. Ian paid them no mind. The hunger paid them no mind. They were tiny, uninteresting. They would not sustain him. But Vali…

He leapt toward Vali as the man rose to his feet. They hit the ground in a heap, and Vali twisted in Ian’s grip like an eel. Vali seized Ian by the throat and flung him backward. He slammed into the wall, and his breath shot out of him as he collapsed to the ground on his knees. Vali glanced around and darted toward the cell door as sweat fell from Ian’s face, spattering against the stone like tiny bits of sleet.

The door slammed shut as Ian got to his feet and staggered forward. His prey would not escape. Ian reached out, and the door fell away and hit the ground, shattering like it had been doused in nitroglycerin. He stepped through the twisted doorway as mist wafted off the stone.

Down the hall a portal hung open. Flashes of magenta filled the tiny space, and Ian narrowed his eyes, shielding himself from the glare with one arm. Jesse was almost to the portal, but Vali was not far behind. He was limping, dragging himself along with one bad leg.

Why was there a portal open? The thought flitted across Ian’s mind as he charged Vali. The hallway filled with ice. Vali slipped, his feet going out from under him. His arms wind-milled out, nails scraping on the dark stone as he fell. Ian was upon Vali as Jesse dove through the portal and was gone. Light flared, filling the room with sparks of magenta.

“Stop,” the voice cut through Ian like a sword. His throat closed up as fear unfurled itself within his gut, reaching out and spreading itself through the entirety of his being. His hunger receded under the press of something enormous and unstoppable on his mind. He felt himself falling, felt his body slump against the stone. Golden light filled his vision, and he tried to look away, tried to stop himself from shivering, tried to make himself do anything other than think, “Oh god, I’m screwed.”

“Thanks,” Vali said, wiping his arm with his sleeve, leaving a glistening crimson trail on the sleeve of his white button-up.

“You should have told me Fames awakened.” Footsteps padded closer to Ian and the press of something enormous on his mind was nearly overwhelming. “Famine is the one we wanted most. His hunger will be the undoing of them all.”

“It just happened, Jormungand.” Vali stood and shook himself. “The girl escaped. I will go after her.”

“Don’t bother. Polyphemus just went to the earth portal to try for the others. He can surely take back one girl. You’re much too valuable to risk, anyway.” Jormungand knelt down and grabbed Ian by the chin, twisting his head until their eyes met, only Jormungand didn’t have two eyes, she had four. Aside from being lavender, the first pair was normal enough. Above those eyes, in the center of her forehead, was another pair of eyes that sort of reminded Ian of an octopus. They were like orbs of solid gold, and they bored into Ian, drowning his hunger with cotton candy and marshmallow fluff. He felt himself fading, felt himself drowning under Jormungand’s serpentine gaze.

“The cyclops won’t be able to take Bellum back by himself.” Vali sighed. “It would be better to have the pair.”

“War and Famine together…” Jormungand glanced at Vali and shrugged, her shoulders moving in an exaggerated motion. “It’s not necessary right now.” She pointed at Ian. “All we need is one. She will come for him, after all. She has to come for him. It is in her nature. As long as we have him, she will walk right into our hands, like a moth to the flame.” Jormungand stood and gestured at Ian with one slender hand. “Can you carry him back to his room? This body is too short for me to carry him myself.”

“I still don’t know why you’ve taken
that
body. It’s just begging for trouble.” Vali shook his head as he hoisted Ian over his shoulder and began walking back toward the cell, his boots splashing through puddles of melted ice. “They will retaliate for this.”

“My dear, Vali,” Jormungand called back. A smile flitted across her lips as she ran a hand through her lavender hair. “I’m counting on it.”

Malcom 01:03

“Are you seriously telling me I’m one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse? Like it’s a good thing?” Malcom waved his hands in front of himself. Sweat ran down his face as he paced back and forth in front of Kim’s car. She still hadn’t moved, hadn’t even blinked since Sabastin had told them who they were supposed to be. “That’s insane. You’re insane.”

Kim glanced from one to the other, a look of vague concern mixed with confusion spread across her face.

“Being given a mantle is not a bad thing, Mors.” Sabastin stood and reached out with one scarred hand. “The horsemen are not always bad. Actually, they are usually not bad.” He shrugged. “You have been given great power. It is your responsibility to do the right thing with that power.”

“Are you seriously quoting Spiderman at me?” Malcom snapped. “I’m being serious.”

“And I am telling you the truth. The horsemen always come when an apocalypse is near. It’s a misnomer that they are the harbinger of it. It’s more correlation than causation. They come to stop it, to pull the world back from the brink.” Sabastin bit his lip. “Usually…”

“Usually?” Kim asked, her voice a pale squeak of mouse whispers. “What do you mean usually?”

“Sometimes, those who receive the mantles aren’t exactly,” Sabastin looked skyward as lightning crackled through the clouds, “the nicest people in the world. Sometimes, even though they have the best intentions…”