Page 42 of Torn Between Two Worlds

Taking a step forward, the rubble crunched under his feet, grabbing a human male out from under a building segment he frowned, no life force. Gently he put the man on the ground.

“Who did this shit?” Jameson's playful voice was a deep baritone, Pestilence's lacing in his brother’s.

No one got to answer.

A voice filled the streets, which he only just noticed were void of sound. All that chaos and not a tweet of sound, something was more off than he thought.

“Welcome. It's taken us years to pull this off. To figure out how to pull something off that was so big it would lure you out. We know we can't kill the Horsemen through you, but we have a pretty good feeling without you, if the fuckin' Apocalypse starts, your side will lose, and then we will have control.”

He heard Demarcus' confused curse at Jonathan's words and wondered what the last part meant, but he'd learned Jonathan liked to talk. He held his ground and waited for the arrogant little pest to do so, which he did after his booming laughter filled the space.

“I can see your little faces. I am, how shall I put it, close to Godlike right now. You thought our goal was to stop the Apocalypse. Our goal is to control demon kind once it happens and usher in a new way of life with demons for slaves. Demons working and humans sitting back and enjoying life. Your species is from the underworld, and we will tame you and use you like the vermin you are.”

A roar from behind him echoed his own. He might not be proud to be a demon after choosing what side of the war he would really fight on, but they weren't all bad, and that dickweed was not one to talk. His anger cleared for a split second, and he realized something—what about the books? Was this in Demarcus's book?

“Ahh, since you all know about Guardians now, I bet you're wondering how this is possible. Easy, we have a demon of sorts on our side, and he's decided to bend the rules to win this war by giving me what I and my superior want, we will get him what he wants. Ciara Miller.”

His next growl was enough to shake the stones and rubble on the ground around him. “Over my dead body, you little fuck!”

“Oh how I had hoped you would say such sweet things, demon. So let's play a game. We've dispatched seven suicide bombers in various locations. Chaos will ensue. War will break out to attack those who began it. Death will encompass all. Famine will overtake those stuck in the rubble and pestilence, well vermin always run in cities, so really that's not too different. The game is afoot gentlemen. Stop the bombers in time to save Ciara because, as we all know, your Horsemen bind you to the scene for whatever idiotic reason that they do, and she'll be unprotected.”

Then it went quiet again.

Without a thought, he barreled forward, head darting side-to-side looking for a sign of the bomber. An explosion to the west of them jerked his head, and he ran until he felt a hand wrap around him. He wasn't certain how Demarcus had any power at all over Death, but he seemed to have enough to control himself.

“Stryder hold on. If there are seven of them and him getting Ciara is tied to him distracting us, then we have to split up and not be distracted. By anything. I don't give a fuck if we go one by one or what, but this charging half-assed, is not going to work. We will be getting torn left and right the minute the repercussions from the bombers start up. So let's work together to try to stop the bombing first.”

He growled and tugged his brother's hand off his arm. “Fine, Jameson get over here, and let's take the prick out before he does another.”

“No. Seven bombers, one went off now. Think about it. There are six continents and we are clearly in Dubai based on the grandeur of the buildings. No, if we split up, we take different continents and flash around until we find and try to stop them before it happens. I would bet we have twenty minutes before all seven bombs have detonated, and the Horsemen will be in charge to deal with the aftermath. Demarcus and I will take the Americas, Africa and Antarctica. You take the rest.”

He didn't wait for the pep talk to end. Didn't even bother to forewarn Jameson except for a growl. “Asia. Now.”

Flashing from location to location, starting at the Great Wall, he cursed when a bomb went off somewhere in Shanghai.

“Fuck. Next continent.”

“No, we hunt that fucker and kill him, something tells me the bombers aren't all suicidal and some are remote.” He couldn't explain his hunch. Just that he knew it. Flashing to the destination of the explosion he took off running, feet driving into the pavement as he did his best to ignore the screams and insults hurling through the streets. They were an aphrodisiac of sorts to War who wanted to join in.

Paying careful attention to the dark and shadowy areas of the alley, he looked for signs of motion. There in the epicenter, movement would have meant the sicko came back to look at his work. He choked as he inhaled a plume of smoke and twitched as the wail of sirens distracted him.

A snicker caught his attention, and he picked up a chunk of rock and flung it in the direction. A quick yelp, and he knew he had someone. He took off, Jameson at his heels and grabbed the man. He wanted to draw it out, wanted it to be poetic, but they didn't have time. In seconds, he twisted the man's neck and threw his body to the ground.

“Come on.” He and Jameson flashed to Europe without needing to communicate it.

22

Jonathan's legswere kicked up onto his desk, arms tucked behind his head and a grin on his face that was from more than the high-end Patron Gold sitting on the table. All that was missing was a cigarette, but even he didn't do that. His eyes were closed, and he was blissful. For the first time since his wife's death, he was absolutely blissful.

“You do know that at any moment now, I'm expecting a thank you, correct?”

He opened one eye, squinting. Leather Jacket appeared to be in a pretty good fucking mood too. He heard actual amusement in the man's voice before he saw him knock back a shot of the tequila.

“Yes, I suspected as much. And while your plan was what was needed, clearly, you needed my men and I to pull it off, regular demons obviously wouldn't have done it. You needed human intelligence.” He was practically beaming and overflowing with overconfidence.

Leather Jacket snorted. “Yes, I will admit your standard demons completely lack the power and ability to do anything of that caliber. But do not act as if you are not benefiting from this. Not only do you not need to worry about the Apocalypse, but you're also going to a world where it's merely a religious threat with no more known knowledge. You're free of the demons.”

He nodded and leaned forward, letting his feet hit the floor as he poured his own shot and tossing it back. “Yes, I haven't decided about that. I may take a few demons with us, why not attempt to control them? If you're correct and demons are only religious ideas there, well then, why not take over once I'm there?”

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