The Demon Beside Me (12 page)

I felt more at home at his place than I did at my own. It had been just about a week since Hikari had laid down her ultimatum. It had taken me a day and a half to work off the hangover from that night. Normally, I would have used my ichor to break down the toxins, but I knew that I didn’t deserve to avoid the misery. I hadn’t told Tink that we hadn’t renewed the contract, coward that I was.

Hikari had seemed pleased with the results of that evening, at least at first. We hadn’t gotten into a fight for three days straight afterwards. That was mostly because I tried to avoid coming home. There was enough work available that I could rack up the hours, spending twelve hours a day on projects, then coming home and collapsing on the couch.

She had started a solid argument just before I left for Caleb’s place. She had started to rage about how I wasn’t spending any time with her anymore, throwing Caleb’s name into it every chance she got. I let her tire herself out, then threw a cheap shot back at her. “So now that you’ve driven a wedge between me and one of my friends, you want to do it with another?” That had shut her up and I took the opportunity to walk out before she could continue the verbal assault.

Something icy touched the side of my head. I jerked away. “You’re brooding,” Caleb told me as he handed me a bottle. “You’ve been brooding ever since you got here. I don’t know why you’re putting yourself through this.”

“What other choice do I have?” I asked.

“Simple. Leave her.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know.” He raised his own bottle to me and I lifted mine in salute back. “You know what I think, Zay. Just know that my offer stands, all right?”

“Much appreciated.” I laughed. “We’ve come a long way from waving swords in each other’s face, haven’t we?”

He chuckled as he collapsed into a chair. “Some days, I think that having cut first would have made my life so much easier.”

“Just remember, that’s what Tink did, and see where it got her?”

“Speaking of Anna, she should be here any minute now. You still haven’t told her?”

I shook my head. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it quiet for now as well.”

“I will, but you know you’re just making it worse.”

I shrugged. “If it comes down to it, she can just stab me and force me into a contract again. Nothing I can do about that. Hikari will be pissed off, but what else is new?”

Caleb shook his head, but there was a knock on the door before he could say anything. He got up, checked through the peephole, and then opened the door. “Good morning, Anna.”

“Morning, Caleb.” Tink swept into the room and fixed her eyes on me. “Morning, demon.”

“Morning,” I said, looking her right in the eye.

Emptiness. I broke eye contact with her before she could sense it as well. The contract had expired and with it, that subtle sense of connection between us was gone. I had used that connection in the past to track her down. I knew it existed. Had existed. It was gone and it was as obvious in its absence as it had been subtle in its presence. I didn’t know if she felt it in the same way, but I didn’t want to take that risk.

She sat down on the couch next to me. “So this is the big day. We get to meet another Horseman. Why are we here and not at the demon’s shack?”

“I don’t want another incident like last time,” I said. “No one else needs to get involved. We should keep this right between the three of us.”

“That’s why we both denied requests from the Host and Choir to have an observer,” Caleb added.

I saw Tink nod out of the corner of my eye. “Makes sense, in a way. What about the imps and archons? We can’t keep them out of here.”

“Right, but they won’t go off and give that information to anyone. If they did, we might just have to make them the subject of one of our later commands. I’m sure they wouldn’t enjoy the results of a famine directed at them,” Caleb said. He kept his tone light and joking, but I knew it wasn’t entirely a joke. We couldn’t stop them from listening in, not without borrowing whatever House Lucifer had developed to keep them out, and the odds of House Lucifer doing me any sort of favor were not good. We could make sure that they didn’t pass it along. I heard a frustrated hiss right next to my ear and couldn’t help but grin.

“What about passing it along to the Conclave?” Tink asked.

“Do whatever you want after we’re done here. I’m sure we’ll all be giving reports to our respective, uh, governments.” Caleb glanced at me. “I don’t even know if that’s the correct term. Faction doesn’t quite sound right either.”

“Organization?” I suggested.

“That sounds like some sort of mafia connection,” Tink said. “Bloc?”

“Now that sounds like we’re revolutionaries.” I shrugged. “Our respective groups?”

“Whatever,” Tink said. “We’ll all tell our people.”

Our fascinating discussion came to a halt when someone knocked on the door. Caleb checked the peephole again and frowned, then cracked the door open. “Can I help you, sir?”

Sir? I craned my head to look toward the door. “I’m looking for the Gatekeepers.” The voice was rough, with a slight Southern accent. “Might I find them here?”

“Please, come in, and be at peace,” Caleb said, pulling the door all the way open. I stood, partly out of respect, partly out of wanting to see why he rated an automatic “sir” from Caleb.

“Me? At peace? That’s irony, right there,” said the Horseman. He rolled forward into Caleb’s apartment, his wheelchair gliding over the thin rug. Both of his legs terminated at the knee and his left sleeve hung empty, pinned up at the shoulder. Scars curved across his face, permanently curling his upper lip.

“I didn’t think this building was even accessible for the handicapped,” Tink muttered.

“One of the perks of being an unimaginably powerful being,” I replied.

“It’s not all fun and games,” he said as he wheeled the chair around to face us. “The perks are wonderful, but every once in a while things go sideways and you end up locked in Purgatory for a couple thousand years.”

“Closer to five hundred,” I said.

“As you say. Time isn’t quite the same for me as it is for you.” He shrugged, then slapped his hand on one thigh. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? By process of elimination, I take it that the lovely child there is the Third Gatekeeper, Annabell Glass.”

“Child?”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. She punched me.

While I stuck a tissue up my nose to stop the bleeding, I heard Caleb introduce himself. The Horseman said something to him, but I couldn’t make it out. When I walked back into the living room, Caleb looked up at me, then looked away immediately. His expression was unlike anything I’d ever seen, somewhere far past horrified. He looked as if he’d collapse at a single touch.

He refused to meet my eye, so I looked to Tink. She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know what he said. Wasn’t in English. Not in any dialect of the angelic language I recognized either.”

“Don’t worry, Caleb,” the Horseman said. “Time isn’t the same for me as it is for you. What may come to pass isn’t always what will come to pass.”

“I’d greatly prefer it if you wouldn’t disturb my friends at such a crucial time,” I said.

His eyes focused on me. The same power that had been evident in Conquest’s eyes burned in his. “First Gatekeeper, Isaiah Bright. The first one to touch his blood to the Gates of Purgatory, setting in motion the events that led to our release. Should we thank you for that, halfblood, or should we curse you?”

“That depends on whether you enjoyed the vacation,” I said. “Though if I were you, I’d have picked a better place to get away from it all. I hear the Bahamas are lovely.”

He grinned. “We may thank you, but the world at large may curse you.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up pissing off everyone in the world eventually, so I might as well go big.”

“Go big or go home, as they say.” He scratched one of the scars on his face, right where it coincided with a piece of his nose missing. “Well, allow me to introduce myself.”

I looked into his eyes. Power within them surged, just as Conquest’s had. The sensation of falling, the uncontrollable hunger, the raw emptiness within. “I am-”

Armies charging each other across a broken field-

Volleys of arrows, bullets, artillery shells-

Explosions stitching their way up the flank of the enemy forces-

The glory of one man, leading the way to victory-

The misery of one man, visiting the families of the fallen-

Striding out of the dust, holding my banner aloft-

“-War.”

I closed my eyes, willing myself to forget some of those images. “You’re a little more impersonal than your brother.”

“We are both dedicated to the pursuit of our respective aspects.” War gave me a twisted smile. “His pursuit is just a little more personal than mine.”

“Are we all just pieces in your game?” I asked.

“Hardly. One could say we’re pieces in another’s game.” I frowned and he leaned forward. “Surely, Gatekeeper, you do not believe that we entered this monstrosity of a contract by choice?”

“What?”

War leaned back, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “All four of us are embodiments of a concept, a plan if you will. We have no choice but to fulfill that plan. We were created to fulfill that plan, actually.”

“But weren’t you originally supposed to be the harbingers of the end times?” Tink asked.

“Our purpose is shrouded in layers of mystery,” War said. “The only beings that know the whole story are gone, but before they left, they made sure that we were bound to a new purpose.” He cleared his throat. “It is an interesting sort of existence, you know. Effectively limitless in power, but bound for all eternity.”

“What happens to you when we survive to open the Gates of Ascension?” I asked.

“If you do so,” he said, “our purpose will be complete. What happens to us is immaterial. Now, before we waste any more time, let’s proceed with the purpose of this little visit. I have verified that each of the Gatekeepers is here. Are you satisfied with my identity, First Gatekeeper?”

“I am,” I said.

“Good. Now, my purpose here, quite simply, is to start a war. Your purpose is to tell me whose war it will be.” He leaned back in his wheelchair. “So, who’s it going to be?”

“That’s it?” I asked. “No guidance, no limits, no commentary?”

The Horseman sighed. “You know better than that. We can’t guide, advise, or do anything of the sort. The limits are simple, has to involve sapient species on this planet, of which there are effectively three, though there could be arguments regarding whether the imps and archons are either their own species, on this planet, or sapient.” He glanced to his side. “Don’t get offended, and don’t think too deeply about it. Your sapience is in as much question as mine is.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see the look on Kibs’ face right now,” I said.

“I could yank him here for you,” War said. “That’s just for my own personal amusement, mind you. We do have a little latitude when it comes to motivating the Gatekeepers.”

“No, quite all right,” I said.

“So you just want us to start a war,” Tink said. She leaned forward and scowled at War. “Define a war. Could we pick two random people in this world and have the two of them go to war with each other?”

“Does it have to be a ‘hot’ war?” Caleb added. “Could it be something akin to the cold war back before the Berlin Wall came down?”

War shook his head. “It does not have to be a world war, nor does it have to be symmetric, but it must involve forces in opposition, forces that will fight, forces that will kill. No, you cannot have a peaceful war, Gatekeepers. That is antithetical to my purpose here.”

I tapped my fingers on my chin, then turned my attention to Caleb and Tink. The angel had his arms crossed over his chest, lost in thought. Tink met my gaze and scowled. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?”

“You’re thinking about what war to cause so you can pick up the pieces and gain power. You demons are always thinking about that sort of thing.”

“I thought we had moved past the point where you did my thinking for me, Tink.”

“Someone has to.”

Before we could continue, Caleb leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Well, we have three major options, as usual. We can force a war between two groups which are relatively unknown on the world’s stage, such as two remote tribes in Africa. While they and their neighbors might care, the rest of the world won’t.”

“But that’s something we would have to live with,” Tink pointed out.

Caleb opened his arms wide. “Anna, we have to start a war. We have to live with it no matter what we do. Is your conscience going to be any less wounded depending on where we start the war?”

“Yes, actually.” She leaned forward and glared at him. “We force a war on someone who deserves to get their ass kicked. You know the type. The dictators, the countries that abuse the shit out of their people. A place like North Korea. Think about it, all those millions of people who are basically starved and brainwashed by that madman.”

“Think about the number of soldiers and the sheer amount of equipment they have,” Caleb pointed out. “Think about the number of South Koreans who will die when they go berserk.”

“Fine. What about Iran?”

“You really want to touch off a religious war?”

“Saudi Arabia?”

Caleb sighed. “Same as before, with a side helping of energy crisis.”

“So what the hell do you suggest?”

“The second option was pretty much the same as what you’re suggesting,” he said. “For the reasons I’ve pointed out, it’s not likely to work. There simply aren’t that many global pariahs, and of those few, not one of them will simply roll over.”

“So what’s your third option?” I asked.

Caleb looked at me, then down at the floor. “We do what Anna accused you of thinking. We start a war between some factions or groups that will lead to us gaining some power so that we have more standing to keep the Choir and Host from pressuring us over the next Horseman.”

“But that would involve a war between the Choir and the Host,” I pointed out. “That’s not exactly something in our best interests.”