Atlas, Part 1 (A Four Horsemen Companion Duet)

Chapter 2

Raziel swooped down from the air and twisted in a fancy twirl, his six black wings curling as he dodged each of the balls of purple energy Conquest threw at him.

He came to a stop, hovering several feet above where Conquest stood, and beamed down at him. “How’d I do?”

“Too slow.”

Raziel pouted. He’d tried so hard. “But was it a passing grade, at least?” He slid a hand under his wing and crossed his fingers discreetly.

Or not so discreetly, considering the way one of Conquest’s thick eyebrows rose.

“This isn’t school,” his Horseman said gruffly. “Being too slow will get you killed. Even if it is a passing grade.”

Raziel bit back a smile and danced in circles as he lowered himself to Conquest’s height, feet still dangling above the ground. The perfect kissing angle. He rested two of his wings around Conquest’s shoulders, feathers brushing over his exposed skin. His Horseman was barefooted and bare chested, wearing only a pair of light cloth pants held up by a twined belt that Raziel and Paul had made together from thick spider silk. It put his chest on display, and if Raziel was distracted by it, he didn’t think that he could be blamed, really. Conquest had a body made for staring.

“One hit won’t kill me.”

“If something touches you, then I’ll have to kill it.” Conquest made it sound simple. Anything that touched Raziel should consider their life forfeit. Raziel probably shouldn’t find it as romantic as he did.

“You like killing,” Raziel pointed out. He wrapped his arms around Conquest’s neck, bringing them close together, lips brushing as he spoke. “So I’m really doing you a favor.”

“Is that what you call it?” Raziel ignored the warning tone creeping into Conquest’s voice.

“Yes.”

Conquest grasped the back of Raziel’s neck and yanked him down into a wet kiss that had his toes curling in his shoes and heat blooming across his skin like a flower opening to the sun. Conquest’s kisses were always so all-consuming, a possession of teeth and tongue and ownership . Raziel had thought that his need for this larger-than-life man would fade over time. So far, he’d been wrong. Every day they spent together, in bed and out of it, only made him want more. They could live a million lifetimes as one, and he doubted it would ever be enough.

Good thing they had eternity. Raziel had never been happier to be an Immortal than he was when he thought about how long he had to spend in Conquest’s arms. Quite literally forever .

Just as Raziel was really getting into it, squirming against Conquest and one step from begging, Conquest pulled back.

“Again.”

What? No. Raziel wanted to have sex. “But—”

“Again,” Conquest growled.

Raziel sighed. He knew that voice. There was no reasoning with it.

He licked up Conquest’s cheek, beard rough against his tongue—just to see that indignant expression cross his face—and then pushed off his strong chest, spreading his wings and soaring up into the sky through the dark clouds of the Horsemen Dimension. He clenched his fists, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated.

Bolts of energy came crashing through the clouds, and Raziel swerved around each of them, diving down toward the ground as he did. He breached through the clouds, and instantly, small gremlin-like creatures made of Conquest’s energy, all translucent purple and crackling, came at him. They slashed and clawed, and Raziel somehow managed to avoid all of it while he hit each one with a burst of his poison.

He pulled out his two sai and sliced through a few of them, using his Immortal strength to put enough pressure on them so that the blunt weapons glided through skin with precise cuts. Abdomen. Throat. Inner thigh. All good killing spots that Conquest had made him slash over and over again during his rigorous training. Sometimes with a blindfold so his muscle memory knew roughly where to hit without thought. One of the gremlins got close and touched his arm, a light jolt running through him. Not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. He dropped one of his sai, and it tumbled down into a patch of grass below.

He sighed internally. He was going to be hearing about that, at length and in detail.

Raziel put away his last sai so he didn’t drop it and used two of his wings to slice the creature that had gotten through his defenses in half, dripping poison across it to make sure it “died.” At least he couldn’t accidentally drop his wings.

The last two descended on him in tandem, suddenly too close and right there in his face. He panicked, dousing them in his green liquid instead of using a controlled hit.

He’d be hearing about that too.

Would it still be a passing grade? All the things were dead. In fact, he could argue that drowning them in his Power was a more efficient way of dispatching them.

Raziel gently landed on the ground, wings curled in and resting against his back. He worried his lip nervously as he waited.

Conquest yanked the sai from where it had dug deep into the earth, only its handle visible. He flipped it in his palm and then hooked it in his belt. Not giving it back. That was bad.

Raziel wasn’t prepared when Conquest pulled his arms behind his back, trapping his wrists in one hand and laying the other on his throat. “If I wanted to kill you right now, I could.”

“Good thing you don’t want to.” Raziel tried his best to stop his smile, though it didn’t feel successful. “Without your crown, I think I could take you,” he said boldly. Unlikely, but he’d give it his best shot. He would never go down without a fight. Not now that he had something so precious to live for. And not now that he knew what he was capable of, the potential that he held. Maybe he’d been made from pieces of the worst Demon in history, and maybe he wasn’t really real because of that fact, but he breathed, and he bled, and he loved like he was. And that was enough for him.

“Could you now?” Conquest asked, voice rumbling through Raziel like thunder and making him shiver. “Should we test that theory?”

“Uh.” Raziel’s brain short-circuited. “Okay?” He’d meant for that to come out as a no . “Yes,” he said more precisely, digging his hole further.

Conquest stepped back and spread his arms wide. Raziel blinked, mesmerized by all the muscle. Conquest was big, so much bigger than Raziel. Strong, capable, strong, unbelievably sexy… strong. So much strength, it was all Raziel could think about. He wanted to trace those muscles, all the dips and curves and hardness, with his fingers and then his tongue. Both at the same time. He loved watching them ripple above him when Conquest was deep inside him, pleasuring him.

“Are you planning to attack or…?”

Raziel’s eyes snapped to Conquest’s. His rugged, handsome features always made Raziel’s heart thump wildly in his chest, like it was trying to burst free. Those gorgeous, liquid-gray eyes that managed to convey a thousand words in just one look. Usually terse ones. His neat beard covered his strong jaw, driving Raziel wild when it scratched across his skin like tiny bristles. “Huh?”

“A test of strength, Raziel. Attack me, and let’s see how you fare against a real opponent.”

He didn’t really want to. Even without his crown, Conquest was a formidable enemy and not anyone to be taken lightly. Raziel was still learning. He’d barely learned how to control his poison. He’d barely worked out the whole flying thing. He wasn’t a match for this man. Not even close.

Conquest had been a warrior for longer than Raziel had been alive. Longer than most Angels currently living had been around. Longer than the Archangels. Almost as old as God himself if the tales of them were to be believed.

“You’re learning fast, Raziel, even if you need to control your emotions better. Have no doubt, baby Angel, one day you will be a match for me and for those like me. And I will help you get there. I would have you stand so tall that nothing and no one could touch you. Not even me.” Conquest threaded his fingers in Raziel’s short hair, using the hold to pull his head back, their eyes meeting. Raziel’s heart skipped a beat, love like a physical presence inside him. Conquest’s love. How had he lived so long without it? The truth was that he hadn’t been living, he’d only been existing. “You’re strong, and the potential inside you is great. What have I told you about fear?”

Raziel stood a little taller at the words. He knew the answer to this one. “It can break me if I allow it to,” he breathed. “Don’t let it stop me.”

“There are worse things out there than me. Can you be trusted to keep yourself safe?”

“Yes.” It didn’t come out as confidently as he’d hoped, the tremble unmistakable.

Conquest kissed him, lips moving across his with an intense focus. “Prove it.”

He would. He could .

Raziel slid his palms down Conquest’s sides, distracting him by licking across his bottom lip and nibbling on it. He made sure he had a good grip around the hilt of the sai Conquest had taken from him before pulling it out and jumping backward.

Conquest smirked. “Clever Angel. You better not try that trick on someone else,” he warned.

“Someone else wouldn’t have my weapon,” Raziel replied loftily. He pulled out his other one and rotated them in his palms, just like Conquest had taught him. He was getting the hang of it. It helped that Conquest was a good teacher and that Raziel wanted nothing more than to please him. Conquest was the only one who looked at him and saw someone worthy, and Raziel would do everything he could to live up to that.

“With the way you drop it all the time, I wouldn’t count on that.”

Raziel ignored the deliberate jab and spread his wings. He used them to launch himself through the air, advancing on Conquest with speed. At the last second, he twisted, sliding under Conquest’s arm and jabbing him with the end of his sai as he went past.

Conquest grunted, and Raziel stopped abruptly, dirt spraying up. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” he blurted out, biting his lip as guilt swamped him like a heavy weight.

“Would you stop and say sorry to your enemy?” Conquest asked with a growl. “Would you patch their wounds for them? Give them a kiss and tuck them into bed?”

He hoped those questions were rhetorical. There was nothing wrong with wanting to help someone in need. The last question seemed a bit much, though.

Conquest swatted him on the ass with his large hand, leaving a pleasant sting. “Faster, Raziel. And don’t hesitate, or you die.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Raziel danced around Conquest’s large body, smiling cheekily.

“Don’t treat this like a game. I want to know that you’re safe when I can’t be by your side. Show me that I don’t have to worry.”

That was a trick. “You worry anyway.” For someone who wouldn’t have cared if the world was reduced to ash, Conquest spent a lot of time making sure that Raziel was safe and loved and cared for. It warmed him up like the amazing hot chocolate Famine had made the other day. Paul, Famine’s dog-sized pet spider, had dunked his head into the pot Famine had been using to cook it, meaning no one got leftovers. The one cup Raziel had been given had been the best thing he’d ever tasted, like liquid pleasure.

Thinking about how much Conquest cared for him made him feel like that.

“Show me that it’s pointless.”

Another trick. “Nothing you do is pointless.”

Conquest drew his sword and rested the tip against Raziel’s throat, with enough pressure that Raziel was acutely aware of his own skin. “First blood, Raziel. Make me bleed, and I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me how?” Raziel asked, squinting suspiciously. Their idea of a “reward” was often vastly different. If they were bartering, he preferred to have it spelled out beforehand, or Conquest would twist it to his own advantage. It usually ended in Raziel’s advantage, but the journey wasn’t always entirely comfortable.

“You can have anything you want.”

“Anything?” There had to be a catch.

“Anything.”

Anything . He could get food. Pastries. He could get sex . Food and sex? He could tell Conquest to play hide-and-seek with Paul and him. He could make Conquest walk around for a whole day completely naked.

The possibilities were endless.

Raziel had to win.

He steeled himself and burst forward without giving Conquest advance notice. Any hesitation, and Conquest would be able to catalog his every move and know what he was going to do before he even knew.

He wasn’t strong like his Horseman, and attempting to defeat him head-on wouldn’t work. Raziel was smaller, and he had agility, and he had to use those things to his advantage, just like Conquest had taught him.

He swerved and ducked and dove, using his wings for speed and angling the tips of them to get the first blood. Every time he missed or took a wrong turn, Conquest slapped his ass, his thigh, his arm, his back. Mild warnings that if this were real, he’d be dead. He’d already lost, and yet Conquest let him keep coming back for more. Though the point wasn’t who would get first blood first, it was for Raziel to get it. Not a competition, but still with a clear winner.

His ass stung a little by the time he finally managed to nick Conquest in the upper arm. It was barely a paper cut, but the sight of Conquest’s blood made Raziel feel sick to his stomach. He loved Conquest and didn’t want to hurt him, even in a simulated situation. If he ever had to face Conquest in battle for real, he knew he couldn’t do it. He would allow Conquest to strike the final blow. If Raziel lost him—worse, was the one who took him from the world—what would he have to live for?

Nothing.

Conquest cupped his chin and tipped his head up. “What thought has that look in your eyes?” he asked, lips turned down. “You won, Raziel.”

“Sometimes winning isn’t worth the price,” Raziel murmured. If winning took his soul with it, how could it be worth it?

“I’m already healed.”

Raziel reached for where he’d cut, stretching up. Conquest spanned his hips and lifted him into the air so he could touch properly. The skin was unmarred, only spots of drying blood to indicate he’d been injured in the first place. “I’m not talking about now. If… would you…” Raziel bit his lip. “If the choice was you or me, would you kill me?”

“No.”

Raziel resisted the urge to pout. He was being serious. “You didn’t even think about it,” he accused. His wings fluttered in annoyance. Conquest could at least humor the question.

Conquest encouraged Raziel to wrap his legs around him, and then he was stroking over Raziel’s feathers, fingers dipping in underneath to tease the hot skin. Raziel’s mouth opened on a silent gasp as the pleasure from the simple touch rocked him.

“I don’t have to,” Conquest said, brushing his lips over Raziel’s bottom lip before nudging his upper lip, forcing his mouth open wider. “I would fall on my sword before I hurt you, Raziel,” he said huskily. His tongue dipped into Raziel’s mouth, a deep moan rising from his chest when Raziel dug his fingers into his shoulders and surrendered to him.

Conquest lowered Raziel until his hard cock rested against Raziel’s ass, cradling one cheek with his hand to keep him secure. “What gave you these thoughts?”

“I don’t like hurting you,” Raziel mumbled, burying his face against Conquest’s chest, fingers digging into his solid pecs. “Even here.” Maybe that made him weak, but it was a sacrifice he would willingly make every time.

Conquest stroked through Raziel’s hair, and he preened, eyes closing as goose bumps erupted across his head and down the back of his neck.

“Next time we can use a dummy,” Conquest said, voice rumbling under Raziel’s cheek. He tangled his fingers in Raziel’s hair and used the hold to gently coax him back. The heat in his liquid-gray eyes took Raziel’s breath away. “You were still victorious, Raziel. Take your prize.”

“What if I haven’t decided on my prize?” He couldn’t think when Conquest was this close to him.

“Then I have something else in mind until you do.”

Desire pooled in Raziel’s belly. “Yes,” was all he could manage.

“Get on your knees for me.”

Raziel was kneeling on the ground before Conquest had even finished his sentence. He had to bend his toes and raise himself up to line his face up with Conquest’s considerable bulge. Saliva pooled in his mouth in anticipation.

He immediately tugged Conquest’s waistband down, his hard cock springing free and jutting out, a silent order to touch. Even when Conquest wasn’t speaking, his body still ordered Raziel around. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Raziel wrapped his hands around the thick girth. He shuddered at the first lick, eyes closing and groin tightening. He ran his tongue around the head before sucking on it, getting drunk on the taste. A hand caressed the top of his head, a heavy comforting weight. His mouth stretched as he took Conquest into it, the musky scent invading his senses. He took what he could and used his hands to reach the rest, stroking in time with his bobbing head.

“Look how perfect your mouth takes me in,” Conquest said, voice deepened with lust. “So fucking good.”

The praise settled inside Raziel, and he hummed, sucking harder, spit dribbling out the sides of his mouth.

“That’s it,” Conquest encouraged. “Get me dripping wet, Angel, make sure that I can slide into your ass nice and easy.”

Raziel moaned around Conquest’s cock, his own aching in his pants, and renewed his efforts. He bobbed and slurped, working himself into a frenzy, his hips rocking of their own accord. His ass throbbed, desperately needing what Conquest had promised. If he kept going, he knew he was going to come in his pants, and he didn’t want to, not until Conquest was inside him.

“That’s enough,” Conquest said with a gravelly voice. He hauled Raziel to his feet and ran his thumb across Raziel’s bottom lip, dragging it. “I want to come in your ass, not down your throat. Not today, at least.” He cupped Raziel’s ass and lifted him up and back into his arms, Raziel’s favorite place in the world.

When he slid three fingers into Raziel’s open mouth with a demanding, “Suck,” Raziel didn’t hesitate, lips closing around them.

Their eyes locked as he swirled his tongue around the thick digits, more saliva dribbling down his chin as he got them wet and ready. He must look a mess, which only seemed to arouse Conquest further.

Conquest ripped Raziel’s pants clean off, the fabric discarded without care. Raziel didn’t have a chance to protest before a finger slid across the puckered muscles of his hole. He rotated his hips, pushing down, eager for it to be inside him, uncaring about anything else. “Please, please ,” he begged.

“Is this where you want me?” Conquest whispered in his ear, tracing the edge with his tongue.

“Always,” Raziel whimpered. It lengthened out into a long drawn-out moan when Conquest’s finger slipped in. It was big and thick, and Raziel could come just from being fucked like this. Had a few times, when Conquest had tortured him with multiple orgasms in one night.

Everything about Conquest was big, overshadowing Raziel. Once it had scared him, a deliberate tactic on Conquest’s part, so used to using his size to intimidate. Raziel wasn’t scared anymore; he knew that strength and power was used to protect him, to love him.

By the time Conquest was three fingers in, Raziel wanted to beg for Conquest to hurry up. Would have if Conquest wasn’t kissing him so deeply that he couldn’t do anything but moan and take it. Conquest had coated his fingers at some point with something that made for an easier slide than just his spit. Raziel didn’t know what it was or where it had come from. Conquest always seemed to have something on him, and Raziel was grateful for it.

“Are you ready for me, Angel?”

“You don’t have to”—Raziel’s breath hitched when Conquest lifted him enough for the fat head of his cock to slide over his entrance—“You never have to ask. I’m always ready. Always need you.”

His nails clawed at Conquest’s back as he pushed in with one smooth thrust, pulling Raziel down at the same time. An aching sting accompanied the pleasure as he was stretched wider than Conquest’s fingers. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against Conquest’s shoulder, a silent cry into his sweat-slick skin.

“How are you still so tight?” Conquest groaned. “Squeezing around me like I wasn’t in there just last night, like I haven’t trained your ass to fit around me.”

Raziel couldn’t answer, too blissed out to focus on anything except moving his hips and urging Conquest to go deeper.

Conquest kissed the underside of Raziel’s jaw and down his throat, licking across his pulse point. He squeezed Raziel’s ass, using the hold to lift and lower him, excruciatingly slowly.

Raziel could feel every inch of the thick length in detail as it slid against every nerve with perfect pressure.

He yelped in surprise and clung to Conquest’s shoulders as he was suddenly taken to the ground. The soft grass against his back tormented his sensitive wings, heightening everything as the texture caressed his feathers. Conquest slapped a palm beside Raziel’s head, the other wrapped loosely around Raziel’s throat, bracing himself. He started up a steady, rhythmic pace, and Raziel’s mouth opened on a loud groan. The sting from the first penetration was long gone, and all that was left was a hunger that drove him wild and consumed him.

Every time Conquest pulled out, the uncomfortable emptiness was unbearable, and then when he was filled again, loud, needy whines spilled from his mouth, desire a burst of fireworks inside him.

A small pressure on one of his wings forced Raziel to turn with an annoyed frown. He blinked at the eight different-sized eyes staring down at him. “Um, hello.”

“Run back to your master, creature,” Conquest ordered. He thrust deep, and Raziel moaned, fingers digging into the earth below him.

Paul walked across Raziel’s wings, and one long leg poked at his hot cheek. “Paul, please, n-not— ah —not now.” His back arched, eyes closing under the onslaught of pleasure.

“Unless you wish to be fried for dinner, I suggest you leave,” Conquest warned. The appearance of the large spider didn’t stop him from rocking into Raziel, making it a struggle for Raziel to focus on the arachnid climbing on him.

Paul tilted his head in what Raziel could have sworn was a pout. He bumped it against Raziel’s and rubbed up against Conquest before skittering off to wherever he had come from, his six legs moving deceptively fast.

“Menace,” Conquest grumbled, leaning down and spreading his body over Raziel’s, covering him. Raziel didn’t waste a second, reaching out with his hands and sliding them across Conquest’s hard muscles.

Every snap of Conquest’s hips stabbed directly against his prostate, and Raziel saw stars. Conquest gave Raziel no time to relax, the pace brutal and so achingly perfect. He didn’t have a chance to recover from the bursts of pleasure shooting through him when the next tremor started. It teetered on the edge of too much. He was drowning in how good it felt, how hard he was, and how close he was to coming.

Whimpers spilled out of him steadily, and he clutched at Conquest, unable to do anything but hold on as he was split open and laid bare, with nothing between them but the raw power they created together. Words were impossible; Raziel could only make sounds as his body tightened, drawing closer and closer to completion.

Conquest moved to his knees, taking Raziel with him. He cradled Raziel close, fingers sliding across his sensitive wings. They were so attuned to him that when they were making love, the tiniest touch sent his entire body into overdrive. It was only ever like this with Conquest, as though he alone could tap into the parts that felt so unbelievably good and turned Raziel into a wanton, hungry animal.

Conquest pushed his thumb below his ear, and Raziel tilted his head, relenting to the silent demand without a single thought toward fighting it. Why would he? Everything Conquest did to him only ever had a happy ending.

Conquest licked up his neck and then bit down on the curve. Raziel imploded, eyes squeezing tight as he was rocked to his core, almost violent tremors running through him as he came. He clutched at Conquest as his mind blanked out, hazy and acutely in focus all at the same time.

He had no idea how much time passed or when Conquest found his own pleasure. He was floating on a cloud, his body limp and spent and humming with delicious satiation. He collapsed against Conquest, snuggling in, his wings sliding under Conquest’s arms and settling against his back. They were like extra limbs, letting him hold Conquest so close he could feel the Horseman’s heart beating against his cheek.

Conquest tensed and then growled, “You better have a good reason for interrupting us.”

Raziel squeaked, curling in tighter against Conquest so whoever it was couldn’t see him. Luckily, Conquest’s sheer bulk effectively shielded him.

“More than,” Famine replied.

Raziel wriggled in Conquest’s arms, wanting to see, and Conquest lightened his hold, only enough to allow him to lift himself up so he could see over Conquest’s wide shoulder. He hadn’t even heard the third Horseman walking up to them. Conquest always knew, somehow. Better situational awareness, or did they just know where the others were all the time? They couldn’t; otherwise they would know where War had disappeared, wouldn’t they? He and Uriel.

Raziel hoped that Uriel didn’t hurt War. He’d heard stories about how much those two disliked each other. Had seen glimpses of it himself before they’d gone missing. Uriel was one of the only Archangels—of any Being of Heaven, really—that eagerly crossed paths with the Horsemen and lived to tell the tale.

And after everything he’d done to Conquest, to him , Raziel held an anger in his heart that was uncomfortable for him. Anger, and hurt, and a mix of emotions he hadn’t worked through yet. Didn’t really know how to. The Archangel had known what God had done to create Raziel. Had been part of it. And had hated him because of it, just like everyone else, as if he’d asked to be created, or asked to have come from such a Demon called Abaddon the Destroyer . The moniker was horrifying as had been his one and only interaction with him. Part of him wished he’d had more time to ask him questions , but the other part had wanted to run as fast and far as he could.

“Did you find War?” Conquest asked.

“No, not yet. Death is still looking.” Famine placed a blanket over Conquest’s shoulder and then turned around, giving Raziel privacy. Conquest grunted and then covered Raziel with it. Raziel beamed, scrunching the top of it in his hands as he snuggled in, moving his head to rest in the curve of Conquest’s arm, his large forearm a comfortable pillow.

Only then did Conquest turn to face Famine properly.

Paul peeked out from behind Famine’s legs, and Famine bent, gathering him into his arms. His legs dangled over the sides of his makeshift seat as his eyes blinked out of sync.

“There’s been a disturbance from the Mortal Dimension,” Famine said.

“What kind of disturbance?”

“One of Lucifer’s making.” Famine’s face turned down in a frown, one filled with a broken sadness that made Raziel’s heart ache just looking upon it.

Conquest sat up, bending a knee, uncaring of his nakedness. “Diablo? What the fuck for? The higher levels wouldn’t get any fun out of every human turning to a crisp just from looking at them. That’s why he’s never bothered before.”

“I don’t know what he’s doing. But there’s a strange blanket over the earth. It’s allowing higher-level Demons to reveal themselves without instantly killing the humans. He’s attacking cities and slaughtering everyone. The days are numbered for those that are still alive.”

Raziel couldn’t find words. They were slaughtering everyone? “Is that… is that like when you…?” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“No,” Conquest said. “Once Death steps on the playing field and puts his Power into place, it’s quick. One sweep. Demons won’t be that kind.” He turned back to Famine. “Diablo is insane, but he’s not that insane. He has to know the consequences of such a blatant attack will be catastrophic. What is God doing?”

“Nothing.”

“ Nothing ?”

Raziel gathered the blanket around himself securely and sat up, shifting to lean against Conquest, putting a hand on his upper arm in some semblance of comfort. Giving it and asking for it in return.

Conquest slid an arm around his shoulders and held him close, bunching his wings and securing him against his chest.

“I don’t think either of them cares about the other right now, Con. Something else is going on.” Famine scratched under Paul’s chin and brushed his knuckles down his abdomen. Paul shivered and flopped, boneless. “Lucifer hit fast, and he hit hard. Half the population is already gone. Entire continents have been left in rubble and flames, no one left alive.”

“Maybe he’s doing us a favor,” Conquest drawled. “I can’t say I’m going to shed a tear over the destruction.”

Raziel curled into himself. All those people, dead, would make him shed a tear. Some of them hadn’t been very nice to him, but just like the Angels, there was good and bad in all things. They didn’t deserve to die and especially not at the hands of the monstrosities that came out of Hell. He still remembered the one that had tried to kill him on the streets when Conquest had used him as bait.

“Lucifer doesn’t do favors, not without wanting something in return. Death is using his every reserve searching for War. If we want to know more about what’s happening on Earth, we’ll need to go there.”

“You’re not going,” Conquest said immediately. “It could be a way to lure you out.”

Famine smiled sadly. “I highly doubt that.”

“Well, I don’t,” Conquest growled. “Maybe he hasn’t gone this far before, but he’s done a lot of fucked-up shit just to get your attention. After everything with Raziel, he’s unhinged and desperate, and we can’t discount the possibility.”

“You heard him, Conquest,” Famine said. “What we had is lost to his madness. He won’t hesitate, and I can’t allow myself to either.”

“Someone needs to stay here and keep Death safe,” Conquest said reasonably.

“Nothing will attack him here,” Famine said, the same tinge of stubbornness in his tone that there was in Conquest’s. “I’m going with you.” He glanced at Raziel.

What was Famine thinking? There was a depth of sadness to his eyes that Raziel couldn’t fathom. He was beginning to understand that there was more to the story than he knew.

“Get dressed,” Famine said. “I’ll meet you at the entrance to the castle, and we’ll go, together.”

Paul’s eyes stared at them over Famine’s shoulder as he walked away.

“Were they… lovers?” Raziel asked tentatively. He couldn’t imagine finding anything in Lucifer to love. Though there were some that were loyal to him to a fault. That was a type of love, wasn’t it?

“What do you know of Diablo, Raziel?” Conquest asked.

“Not… a lot,” Raziel admitted. He didn’t even know why the Horsemen called him that, when no one else did. There wasn’t a lot written about him in any of the texts in Heaven. Or at least nothing about his origins. Only what he was now, the horrible deeds he’d committed, and the depravity that stalked him like a second skin. God used him to speak of the Ultimate Sin and as a warning.

“He was once an Archangel,” Conquest said.

Raziel’s mouth parted in shock. He’d never read that anywhere. The humans speculated about it, but it had never been confirmed, and Raziel couldn’t imagine it. An Archangel ?

“Archangel Samael. We were his Generals in Purgatory, tasked with guiding the dead to the afterlife. He fell in love with Famine, and God punished them for it. And the rest of us alongside them. God made us the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, to atone for our sins by ridding the world of it. Diablo… he was trapped in Purgatory—what you think of as Hell now—and in that isolation, he became something else entirely. There’s nothing left in him but hatred and an obsessive, twisted love for the one person he can’t ever have again.”

Raziel’s bottom lip trembled. “That’s so sad.” He couldn’t even imagine what any of that must have felt like, to be ripped apart so cruelly. The anguish that he must have gone through, to have made him into something so far removed from where he’d come. Raziel couldn’t let go of Conquest, his fingers digging into flesh, suddenly terrified of what would happen if he did.

“Diablo can’t be allowed near Famine. What he might do to him… it’s not worth the risk.”

“You think he would hurt him?” Raziel asked.

“His mind is broken beyond repair. I don’t think he would do it for the sake of causing pain, but love isn’t always that simple, and what his love has turned into… I don’t know what he would do. Diablo is unpredictable at best, sadistic at his best. I won’t chance it.”

“He worked with us before.” Before he’d turned on them. Maybe that wasn’t a good example.

“He isn’t to be trusted, and he can’t be allowed near Famine. Or you.”

“Me?”

“He thinks you’re the key to returning his most beloved Demon to him. I’ll kill him myself before I let that happen.”

Oh.

Abaddon. Raziel shuddered and wrapped his arms around his knees. What would happen to him if Abaddon really returned? When he’d been pulled into that place after Uriel had killed him, Abaddon had attempted to take over his body. Be him. Did that mean both couldn’t exist? It made a sick kind of sense. Would Lucifer sacrifice him?

Of course he would. Raziel was nothing to him.

Conquest kissed his temple and stood, pulling Raziel to his feet with him. “Famine won’t wait forever, and he can’t be allowed to go alone. You need to shower, and then we’ll travel to Earth.”

“Are we just observing?” Raziel asked in a small voice. Would they just leave the humans to their fate? He didn’t know if he could do that. See all their suffering and allow it to continue as if it didn’t matter.

Conquest’s brows drew in as he studied Raziel, forehead crinkling. Hope sprung in his heart when Conquest sighed.

“The Apocalypse is coming, Raziel. What do you think is going to happen when we succeed?”

He tried not to think about it, truth be told. “Why do you have to?”

“Because it’s who we are. You need to accept that. Once we find War, he’ll sow the seeds that will allow Famine to sweep across the land like a plague. Diablo might have killed half of Earth, but we’ll finish it and kill the rest. You already know that.”

His tone brooked no argument, firm in the belief that it was their only way. He’d been doing it so long that maybe he didn’t see another way.

Raziel’s heart ached. Falling in love with Conquest didn’t mean that he’d fallen in love with his purpose. Killing on that scale… Raziel couldn’t accept that, not without exhausting every other avenue. There had to be another way, a better choice. A balance that didn’t mean so much death, or suffering, or anyone looking the way Famine had when he’d left.

Raziel couldn’t imagine being parted from Conquest, the kind of pain it would cause him. So how could he accept that they would be responsible for doing it to countless others? Ripping loved ones from each other, causing pain and heartache?

No. There had to be another way. Raziel would find it.

“Where did my clothes go?” Raziel asked, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Conquest didn’t answer, giving his Angel a once over. He’d gained muscle from the strenuous training Conquest had been putting him through. The light definition of his stomach was a blatant invitation for a tongue to trace every line and dip, though it was the confidence in his posture that was the biggest change in him. He stood just that bit straighter, a determination in his beautiful bright-blue eyes that hadn’t been there before. His Angel had come a long way from sitting on a bench, helpless and easy pickings for any Immortal that happened upon him.

Conquest tugged the towel off, looking his fill of the rest of Raziel. There was no need for modesty in these rooms. No one would enter unannounced, and he wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure it gave him to look at his small Angel. Seeing the shiver run down his form, the flush of anticipation that ran down his chest, not knowing when Conquest would step forward and touch him and eagerly waiting for it.

“I put something on the bed for you.”

It had taken some time to gather the materials, including a quick visit to Amii that had resulted in some property destruction, but it would be worth the effort once he saw Raziel garbed in his colors. The simple outfit, not too thick or heavy, would give Raziel ease of movement along with the protection he needed if Conquest’s attention was split for a moment. Battlefields of any size were unpredictable, and Conquest would ensure that Raziel was taken care of, no matter where they were.

Raziel’s mouth opened in wonder as he looked over the outfit. He bent over the bed, pinching the fabric of the shirt between two fingers. “It’s soft!”

Conquest stepped forward and smoothed a hand over Raziel’s perfectly rounded ass, a finger slipping between his cheeks to circle his tantalizing hole.

Raziel hung his head with a choked-out gasp. He would still be tender after Conquest had used him in the field. That wouldn’t stop him from going again, the ache a pleasant reminder of Conquest’s ownership.

He kissed Raziel’s shoulder and slipped a finger into him, burying it to the third knuckle. Raziel’s muscles squeezed around him as Raziel let out a breathless moan, ass pushing down, seeking more. The unfiltered response to his touch pleased Conquest, a satisfaction roaring through him. Raziel belonged to him .

“The clothes are made from the same material as my own armor,” Conquest murmured, slowly finger fucking Raziel. “They’ll protect you better than anything that can be made in Heaven or Hell. Don’t leave this place without wearing them.”

“I won’t,” Raziel said, voice hitching as Conquest added a second finger without warning.

“It’s also a message,” he whispered against Raziel’s ear, his Angel’s black hair tickling his cheek. He lifted Raziel’s leg, resting his foot on the bed and opening him up. He easily reached across and pulled out the container of lube he kept in the side table—he could summon it anywhere else, but they couldn’t create portals inside the castle walls, designed specifically that way—and then freed his cock, liberally coating it.

“A m-message?” Raziel asked, trembling.

“A warning,” Conquest amended. The same thing, in the end. “You wear my colors, my symbol.” He nudged the head of his cock against Raziel’s hole, circling it with a light pressure. “Anyone who thinks to touch you will know they’ll answer to me.” He buried himself inside Raziel in one short, sharp thrust.

Raziel cried out, reaching back and burying his hands in Conquest’s hair, pulling on it as he squirmed on Conquest’s cock, chest stretched and on display. Conquest rolled his hips, and Raziel let out a filthy moan, accompanied by a please , echoing in the quiet room. There had never been a sweeter sound than Raziel’s pleas.

Conquest drove into him with hard, punctuated thrusts, constant sharp exhales of breath forced out of Raziel. Conquest bit the sweet curve of his neck, drawing the skin into his mouth, marking him.

“Yes. Please—I want—” Raziel wriggled in his arms as though trying to pull Conquest’s cock further inside—as if his sheer size wasn’t already splitting Raziel open.

“More?” Conquest helpfully supplied. He pushed Raziel forward, bending him over the bed with a hand firmly across his nape. He shoved in hard, holding still, buried completely in Raziel’s tight channel.

Raziel made an inhuman sound, hands grasping at the sheets, scrunching them in his palms. Conquest set up a brutal pace, with the goal of a quick orgasm, not a drawn-out one. Famine wouldn’t wait forever, and Conquest wouldn’t allow him to go to Earth by himself if Diablo really was roaming with an agenda. The last thing they needed was for Famine to fall into his hands.

He took Raziel in hand, stroking him in time with his fast, heavy thrusts. Raziel remained pliant, allowing Conquest to do whatever he wanted to him, letting out a long string of perfectly exhausted whimpers as Conquest fucked him.

It didn’t take long before Raziel spilled over his hand and the bed, with a low keening cry. He squeezed around Conquest’s cock, and nothing could have stopped Conquest from emptying himself into Raziel’s heat, branding him from the inside. He continued to thrust, pushing his cum further inside his Angel, some of it spilling out and making a mess down Raziel’s legs. He didn’t stop until Raziel was boneless, splayed out across the bed and so exhausted he wasn’t even making sounds anymore, only overstimulated twitches. Fucking perfect.

Conquest peppered light kisses up Raziel’s spine and then lifted him gently from the bed. Raziel smiled at him sleepily, eyes glazed over. He was glorious, fucked out and completely spent. Conquest rubbed his lips, slipping the tip of his thumb inside to get it wet and dragging the spit across his mouth. Beautiful.

He cleaned Raziel in the shower again, with thorough but quick motions. If he stretched it out too much, he would be fucking his Angel again, right against the glass wall in the bathroom. And they didn’t have time for that, unfortunately.

Raziel seemed more alert and awake once they got out, and Conquest dried him. He took his time looking over the outfit that Conquest had given him.

Conquest helped Raziel into each layer, properly securing each section and ensuring it fit just as he knew it would. Straps across the back meant that he wouldn’t ruin the outfit when he spread his magnificent wings. The outfits worn by the Angels and Archangels were similar in design, almost invisible slits in the back to slide them out. Those were for two wings, in varying sizes, not for someone like Raziel. There wasn’t another documented instance of any Immortal with wings like his. This armor was of Conquest’s colors, all black with white outlines along with the symbol of his mare on the chest and catered to Raziel’s exquisite uniqueness, a perfect fit for his six large black wings.

Once he was attuned to the outfit and had learned to harness those parts of his Immortal power, he could summon it easily, instantly garbing himself in it. This way was more fun, and Conquest enjoyed dressing him like Raziel was his own personal doll.

“How do I look?” Raziel asked, doing a circle.

Conquest checked all the belts and clasps, tugging on them to ensure they were secure. “You look beautiful, Raziel,” he said. He smirked at the way Raziel’s cheeks went red from his words. His Angel was so responsive, even after all the wonderfully depraved things they’d done together. Still so innocent.

“It makes me feel safe,” Raziel said, smiling with an air of innocence that Conquest hoped never faded. “Like you’re holding me.”

Conquest kissed him slowly, cradling his small face between his large hands. “The world will bow at your feet, my Angel. I would bow at them.”

“I love that those words are mine alone. Like a secret.”

It was hardly a secret. Conquest had no issue being free with his affection for this Angel. Anyone who thought he was weak because he was open with his emotions would quickly learn their mistake.

“Are you ready?”

Raziel’s lips jutted, determination in the hard lines. He nodded sharply. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Considering Famine’s warning, Conquest doubted Raziel was truly ready for what would come next. But they had no choice; it was the cards they had been dealt, and they would weather it together.

He opened the door and gestured for Raziel to go through. “After you.”

Raziel reached up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek on his way past.

CONQUEST WHISTLED LOW AS they stepped out of the fog. Destruction on a mass scale was an understatement. Diablo had more than done a number on the place. None of what had once been vast, tall buildings in a ten-block radius around them were standing, the entire landscape reduced to nothing but rubble, with the stench of blood, despair, and death.

He hadn’t expected this kind of brutality, not even from the Devil himself. Conquest could have appreciated this kind of efficiency—no thought, just devastation—if there were some purpose to it. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what this would accomplish except gathering attention.

“Oh,” Raziel said, the small sound filled with pain.

Conquest squeezed his nape and kissed the top of his head. “Come,” he said, “let’s look around.” With any luck they would come across a few Demons they could have fun with and use as a distraction for Raziel. Not to mention, it had been too long since he’d wet his glaive.

Famine let Paul down, who immediately climbed over a pile of rubble and disappeared into the remnants of a collapsed building.

“Survivors?” Conquest asked. He couldn't sense any auras nearby. Right now, that didn’t mean anything since the lingering scent of so much death interfered with his ability, and without his crown he didn’t have infinite untapped Power.

Famine shook his head. “No, I smell only the dead. Trapped souls and lingering ghosts.”

Guess they were going in blind, then.

Raziel wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his own upper arms. “These poor people.”

“I guarantee half these ‘poor people’ were stains on society to begin with,” Conquest said. He would stake his life on it, in fact. “Don’t feel sorry for them.”

“You don’t know that, though,” Raziel insisted. His heart was too good for this world. “They can’t all have been bad.”

“Humanity isn’t worth saving, Raziel. None of them. If I didn’t think that Diablo had an ulterior motive, I might even be helping him.” So long as he stayed away from Famine, Conquest could tolerate the King of Hell. They weren’t working together this time, and Diablo had no reason to speak to his brother. That made Famine off-limits. It was safer that way for everyone.

“You don’t mean that. That’s not fair.”

Conquest cradled the back of Raziel’s head, his hand spanning across and holding firm. “None of them, none of them , are worth your life. Do not sacrifice your own well-being over those who wouldn’t hesitate to throw you to the wolves.”

Raziel’s bottom lip trembled stubbornly, blue eyes imploring. “You don’t know that they would.”

“Yes, I do.” He’d seen hundreds of civilizations rise and fall, had destroyed some of them himself. He knew what humans were capable of, what even the most righteous would do when backed into a corner. Angels were far from the pure Beings that they portrayed themselves as, and Demons were bloodthirsty assholes with no qualms about torturing and murdering the innocent, but they had nothing on what humans did to each other. Conquest would kill every single one of them without a second thought, or an ounce of regret, just to keep Raziel with him even one minute longer.

He wouldn’t put out the spark of empathy that Raziel had in spades, but he wouldn’t allow it to spread so far that there was nothing of the Angel left. Or let it put him in harm’s way. Conquest’s generosity only went so far.

Conquest turned his head, sensing Immortals appearing from the fog, close enough that he could pick up their auras. “Hold up,” he said, placing a hand on Raziel’s chest. “Demons, coming our way.”

Conquest pulled his glaive from his back with his free hand and twirled it.

Raziel wrapped fingers around Conquest’s wrist, so small they couldn’t reach all the way around. He grew his wings out, the long span of black feathers with razor-sharp, dark-green tips curving around Conquest. He didn’t need the protection, or the shield, but it was sweet that Raziel gave them anyway. His Angel was already a powerful warrior even if he didn’t realize it. Once he learned to harness that power, the Gift spawned from Hell, he would be as formidable as any of the Horsemen.

For now, Conquest would ensure he was alive and breathing so he could get to that point. “Get ready for a fight,” he said, stepping in front of Raziel.

Demons appeared quickly, sprinting on the roads and darting across the slopes of what was left of the building roofs. Dozens of them, most of them lower level and child’s play for the Horsemen. At the front of the pack was a familiar middle-level Demon. Astaroth had long since vied for the spot that Abaddon had once filled at Diablo’s side as if he could ever compete with the raw strength of the Destroyer.

“Well, well, well,” Astaroth drawled.

“Guess no one has taken out the trash yet. Thought Diablo had killed you,” Conquest said, sneering. He should have done everyone a favor and stayed dead.

“I got better,” Astaroth drawled. “And he forgave me.”

“He doesn’t forgive anyone.” Diablo got even. There were a select few Demons in his inner circle he might forgive their transgressions, and one that could do anything he wanted—if he were still alive. This pathetic excuse for a Demon wasn’t one of them.

“He’s probably waiting for the right opportunity to rip your throat out,” Famine said conversationally. “He wouldn’t want to be predictable.” He glanced over the rubble that Paul had gone into.

Conquest spared a second to look in the same direction. The large spider hadn’t returned yet, and if he knew what was good for him, he would stay there until the fight was over.

Astaroth hissed at them, though he couldn’t disguise the doubt that was leaking into his blood-red eyes. Or into his black aura. He knew the truth even if he wanted to deny it. He would die here. Few could match two of the Horsemen together, and especially not when one was Famine.

“When I bring back his prize, then he’ll grant me whatever I want,” Astaroth with exaggerated bluster.

Conquest shared a look with Famine.

“What prize?” Famine asked for them both.

“That would be telling.”

The word “prize” was telling enough. They could hazard a guess as to what Diablo wanted. “You can tell us now, or we kill your lackeys and then ask you again. Less politely. Your choice.” Conquest knew which option he’d prefer Astaroth choose.

“I’m not scared of you,” Astaroth snarled. “You’ve got dead weight now, Conquest. Your Angel’s so weak even Heaven didn’t want him!”

Raziel flinched, and Conquest ran his knuckles down the top curve of one of his wings.

It was interesting, the rumors that spread among the scum of Hell. “Is that what you think? That he’s weak?” Conquest asked, danger seeping into his voice like blood soaking fabric. Raziel was more than a match for this pathetic, sniveling piece of shit. Even when they’d first met, when he didn’t have his wings, he would have been able to take him.

“Go,” he ordered, eyes meeting Raziel’s briefly.

Raziel nodded and then spread his wings before shooting straight up into the air, disappearing into the dark clouds.

Conquest and Famine burst into action immediately, weapons already swinging and cutting into the first Demons. Conquest buried his glaive deep into a chest and then yanked sideways, ripping it open. He kicked the gaping body toward Famine, who cleanly sliced its head off with a twirl of his double-bladed sword.

One of them had a flail, and it dug into Conquest’s forearm, a deep sting from the contact. He tugged his arm, using the embedded weapon to drag the Demon toward him. “Thank you for the weapon, but I already have one. You can have it back.” He smacked it in the face with the side of his glaive and then pulled the flail out, relocating it into the Demon’s head, splitting his skull open.

Raziel swooped in from above, raining acid from the dark-green tips of his wings. The Demons it hit screamed in agony, some getting covered in so much they staggered and dropped to their knees, skin and muscle melting.

Famine and Conquest took advantage and cut them down while they were distracted, leaving behind a pile of bodies and severed limbs. A few fled, and Conquest let them go. They weren’t worth the energy to pursue. They’d be back: Demons couldn’t help themselves.

“What the fuck?” Astaroth said, horror in his wide eyes as he took in the melted dead, skin still sizzling from where Raziel’s Gift had dripped on them.

“Guess whoever told you those lies about my Angel left these parts out,” Conquest said, tutting. “Rumors aren’t the reliable source they used to be, I suppose. Now tell us what this prize is.” He wanted confirmation.

Astaroth took a step back, his sneer not half as confident as it had been before. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

“Yes.” That was always going to be the outcome here, and anyone who thought otherwise when going against Famine and him were kidding themselves. “But I can make it hurt, or I can make it quick.” Either way, Conquest would enjoy himself. He didn’t mind what Astaroth picked.

Astaroth’s nostrils flared. “Isn’t it obvious?” He gestured toward Famine. “What do you think he wants?”

That wasn’t an answer that Conquest was comfortable with even if he’d seen it coming. Wanting Famine instead of Raziel wasn’t the consolation prize he was looking for. And Diablo had never made such an obvious play for his ex-lover before. Why now? Unless it was a purposeful lie to distract them from the truth. Either way, this gutter scum wouldn’t have the answers he wanted.

“Nothing is going to stop him, no matter what you d—” He cut off abruptly when Conquest took his head off.

“He talks too much, without saying anything of any use,” Conquest said with a sniff. This particular Demon wouldn’t die from the wound Conquest had inflicted, unfortunately. “Cutting the head off the serpent,” had come from him and was a misnomer. He needed a bit more convincing to stay dead. Conquest was happy to provide it.

Raziel landed softly beside him, wings dripping and face flushed. He surveyed the scattered bodies of the dead, eyes dim. “Is it over?” he asked.

“Not quite.” Conquest swung his glaive and cut open Astaroth’s chest, dragging it vertically to create a deep cavity. “Astaroth will rise again if we leave him like this.” There were plenty of ways to ensure he didn’t. Some more fun than others. Conquest had a better idea. “Come here.”

Raziel’s nose wrinkled as he peered inside the body, wings curling back like they didn’t want to get blood on them. “That’s disgusting.”

“You don’t like a little blood and guts in the morning?”

“Not really part of my breakfast plans,” Raziel retorted. “I prefer pancakes.”

Had Raziel even eaten pancakes? Conquest would find out and rectify it if not.

“Each to their own,” Conquest said. “If you fill up the cavity with your gorgeous acid, he’ll dissolve, and we won’t have to worry about him for a while.” A couple of months, at least. More if they were lucky. He wasn’t difficult to kill, but he was still a pain in the ass. This was a fun new way to ensure he took his time to resurrect.

“I—” Raziel hesitated. Conquest thought he might be queasy at the idea of using his Gift this way, but then he said, “I still can’t fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

So concerned for Conquest’s safety. His glorious little deadly warrior. “I’ll heal,” he said simply. Raziel would stop long before he could do any permanent damage to Conquest, and it was important that he learn control instead of being afraid of himself. A few burn marks in exchange were a small price to pay.

Raziel drew his wings in, face twisting in concentration. He spread his hand and hovered it over the gaping wound. Green liquid poured from it, his hand remaining clean even as gushes of the acidic poison filled the hole, overflowing and splashing outward. Some of it flared from his wings, Raziel unable to contain where it came from. It hit Conquest’s arm and sizzled through the concrete around where they stood.

His Angel immediately stopped, pulling back with a horrified expression.

“I’m so sor—”

Conquest kissed him deeply, swallowing his surprised moan. The sting from the wounds Raziel had inflicted were already gone, his skin healed. The pain was nothing compared to what he’d endured at the hands of others. “Keep going,” he urged. “It turns me on when you kill for me, and if you’re good, later I’ll show you just how much it pleases me.”

Raziel melted against him, his wings brushing against Conquest and burning more slits in his armor. Not all of it was strong enough to withstand the raw power of the acid. As much as Abaddon had been a mouthy motherfucker, he’d backed it up with his sheer Power. Raziel didn’t yet fully understand what kind of weapon he held quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Conquest slid his arms around Raziel, plastering himself to his back, ignoring the twinges of pain from the dripping wings as the tips burned into him, like brands. He would wear Raziel’s brand willingly if only it were permanent. He kissed his Angel’s neck. “Go on. Finish it.”

Raziel trembled as he reached a hand out, releasing his acid until Astaroth was nothing but a bubbling pile of melted flesh and oozing mess. The Demon had never looked so good.

Conquest wanted to fuck Raziel right then and there. Might have if something else didn’t catch his attention in the distance. More auras. Human. Including a beacon that he hadn’t expected to find, not with so little of humanity left. The Demons would have gone after one like that first, surely.

“The Demons have found new prey,” he said, straightening with one arm still around Raziel. They’d gotten far enough away that there was no sound of a battle, and Conquest might not have felt them if it weren’t for that bright shining aura right in the middle of it. How he’d missed it when they’d first landed, he didn’t know.

How intriguing.

“Who?” Famine asked. Paul ventured out of a different building from the one he’d gone in, his head and large butt covered in dust and a streak of blood. Must have found something to feed on. “Other Demons or…?” Famine picked Paul up and brushed off the top of his head. “Where have you been?” he murmured.

“No, human this time,” Conquest answered. A fair question, though. Demons had no issue with turning on each other like rabid animals when the situation called for it.

“We should help them!” Raziel insisted, twisting in Conquest’s arms. Wide pleading eyes stared at him, and Conquest was helpless to resist.

Conquest tilted his head in acknowledgment. He’d been planning to go anyway. Spilling more Demon blood wasn’t a hardship, and it was a good lesson for them to learn: no one could outrun the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

As they got closer, the sounds of gunfire erupted in the quiet, unnatural stillness of the air. The humans were fighting back. Not a total lost cause, after all.

Men in United States Air Force uniforms surrounded an upside-down and on-fire Humvee, with a good two dozen Demons closing in on them. More must have scurried from their holes to come out and play. Easy pickings.

Conquest’s gaze zeroed in on one figure in the middle. That was the one he’d sensed. He had to turn down the intensity of his sight just to see the man beneath the aura. It was a color unlike any he had seen before, a soft orange, like flickering heat against rippling water. Angel-born were always white. Curious.

The subtle way the others deferred to the Angel-born, shoulders turned, spread out to protect him, told Conquest he was the one in charge. That didn’t surprise him. The uniform he wore, however, did. Very few of them ended up in the military, for good reason. It was difficult to maintain a heart of purity when in such a career, and those born to be Angels were disgustingly pure. They turned into self-righteous pricks during their time in Heaven, but they didn’t start that way. They started the way Angels were supposed to be.

“Hold the line,” the Angel-born yelled, deep voice clear and steady, carrying in the heat of the battle. “Don’t let them flank you, watch your six.”

One of the smaller Demons got too close, and the human swiftly switched his rifle for a combat knife, burying it with impressive accuracy into its temple. He ripped the blade out and did it again. Then pressed a foot against its chest, push-kicked it away, and shot it in the head with his handgun before putting it away and taking up his rifle once more.

Not particularly Angelic actions.

The Demons hit the ground from the sheer volume of spraying bullets, but they weren’t staying down. That kind of firepower was more a deterrent and an annoyance than anything even close to resembling dangerous. The combat knife had more chance of putting them down permanently. Melee weapons were better designed for it, though they were most effective if they were Immortal made, not human. And being wielded by an Immortal. Humans were just too weak.

“We have to help,” Raziel said, bursting forward before Conquest could hold him back.

“Raziel, no!” But he was already halfway across the space between them, closing in on the Demons surrounding the humans. “Fucking getting punished for that,” Conquest muttered, following him.

“Is that what you’re into?” Famine said with amusement, keeping pace easily. Paul wasn’t in his arms anymore, and Conquest didn’t really care where he’d been put so long as he stayed out of his way. He could find a Demon to feed on when they were done.

“He’s usually better at listening.”

“Is he?”

Conquest wasn’t answering that.

Instead, he wrapped his hand around a Demon’s throat and squeezed, crushing its windpipe and ripping right through the flesh to tear the head off. Only then did the rest notice him, so focused on the easy prey that they weren’t paying enough attention. A mistake that would cost them their lives.

Famine, Raziel, and Conquest easily picked the scum off one by one until it was just another battlefield strewn with the pieces left, blood and oozing flesh a pretty decor for the ground. The humans had stopped firing the second the Horsemen had entered the fray, stunned expressions freezing them in place. It didn’t matter; they hardly needed the useless help.

Only the Angel-born was still firing while the others simply aimed, like they weren’t sure who the targets were.

“Stay back,” he growled once all the Demons had hit the ground, without hope of getting back up. His light-blue eyes—eerily similar to Raziel’s own if not identical in color—flashed angrily. “Who the fuck are you?”

Conquest studied him. A delicate baby face, out of place in this dead-filled landscape. Black hair that needed a brush and two dark beauty spots on his upper right cheek. He would have fit in more with some random fashion magazine than out here in a battle-hardened street. Nothing about his features, or his bright orange aura, said he belonged here.

“You’re welcome,” Conquest said dryly. He took a step forward, and the human fired at his feet. Not very polite.

“I said stay back,” he said through gritted teeth.

Just for that, Conquest wasn’t going to. “Think a few bullets are going to hurt me?” he asked, eyebrow arching in a perfectly derisive manner. “These pathetic, sniveling Demons might have felt it, but we’re better than them. You think you’re a match for me? You have no idea what you’re dealing with.” He was about to.

“And what are you?” His bright gaze flitted between them in sharp, jerky movements, shoulders tense as he anchored himself to the ground, knees bent. Ready to fight. Did he really think he stood a chance against any of them?

“Kind of a rude question,” Famine said, stepping up to stand beside Conquest. “You could ask who we are, first.”

“Who are you?” he amended. The weapon in his hand swiveled, like he was unsure which one of them to focus on. Conquest would have put his money on Famine, but of course it landed on him . He was the bigger target. The more obvious.

Another step forward. This time the bullet barely missed Conquest’s thigh. Raziel inhaled behind him, and Conquest twisted his head just enough to check him. If any of those bullets got his Angel, then this Angel-born was going to meet his maker sooner rather than later.

“I mean it!” the human yelled. “Don’t come any closer. State your purpose.”

“Our purpose?” Conquest looked to Famine, whose eyes crinkled with amusement. The corner of his mouth lifted in response. “What if we said our purpose was to kill all of humanity? What would you do then?” Technically it was their purpose. So call him curious.

The man’s finger moved back to rest on the trigger, a muscle in his strong chiseled jaw twitching. That wouldn’t do.

“You try to shoot me again, and I’ll show you just how much pain the human body can take before it dies,” Conquest warned him.

The human’s back straightened further, eyes narrowing, lips twisting into an angry sneer. He didn’t move his finger. In fact, he got it into a better position to fire. He was either very fucking brave or very fucking stupid. Perhaps both.

A small hand tugged at the waistband of Conquest’s pants. He didn’t look back, didn’t need to, to imagine the disapproving look Raziel wore. He wouldn’t murder any mortals in front of his Angel even if he might make them think he would. If he came for them, it would be later, when Raziel was safely home, and when they were least expecting it.

A tendril of fear spiked in the orange aura as he caught sight of something to their immediate left. “ Oh, Jesus.” He took a hasty step backward and tripped on some debris, stumbling before righting himself against the upturned vehicle. “What the fuck ?”

Paul scuttled past Conquest, weaving through his and Raziel’s legs before finding Famine and climbing up him. He wrapped his six legs around Famine’s upper arm, latching on like a monkey, and then blinked at the humans who were staring wide- eyed at him. Terror all but dripped from their auras, so much more acute than the Angel-born’s as they aimed.

“Point your guns elsewhere,” Famine said dangerously, the ground trembling beneath him as he spoke. “Or what we did to the Demons will look like a wet dream.”

The rest of the airmen were quick to avert their weapons back to Conquest. The Angel-born was slower, analyzing his targets before making the decision. Wasn’t good at taking orders, was he?

Paul dropped his head sideways onto Famine’s shoulder, relaxing against him with his legs dangling, secure in the knowledge that Famine wouldn’t let him fall.

Conquest pushed his Power out, sending it right into the airman who should have been more afraid than he was. It took a little more effort to dive in without his crown. Not to mention the human’s mind was particularly guarded even for a man born to be an Angel. Something was shielding it. Conquest at least found a name to go with that far-too perfect face.

Atlas Brandt. Atlas . Titan. Bearer of the Heavens.

Was the name fitting or a cruel irony?

“Lay down your weapons, and we’ll think about explaining ourselves,” Conquest said casually. They should be kissing his feet for allowing them even that.

“Not a chance,” Atlas said firmly. “Are you here to help us or to kill us?”

So defiant. Most humans would be pissing in their pants by now, begging and offering up whatever they had to in order to save their pathetic lives. “The million-dollar question,” Conquest said casually. “You wouldn’t know if I was lying, and you’re not being particularly friendly right now. Why shouldn’t we kill you?”

Atlas pursed his lips, fingers twitching on his weapon. “Give me a reason to be friendly.”

“I could kill you in the blink of an eye, mortal. I don’t have to give you anything.”

Atlas fired two rounds into Conquest, hitting him square in the chest. If he’d been wearing anything else, it would have gone right into his heart. Not a lethal hit but one that wouldn’t tickle. Instead, it ricocheted off his armor and grazed Atlas’s arm. He didn’t falter, throwing down the rifle and switching to the still-bloody combat knife from his thigh, flipping it in his palm and holding it sideways with a tight grip.

“You should clean that after every kill so it doesn’t rust,” Conquest said helpfully.

Atlas tilted his chin defiantly, lips flat. The dark shading of hair along his jaw and on his upper lip helped offset the baby face, though not enough to give that menacing air any real traction.

“You want to fight?” Atlas spat. “Then let’s get on with it. Because unless you’re here to help, we have nothing to talk about.”

Conquest grinned. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

He moved fast, and Atlas was only able to swipe at him with the blade once, slicing across his armor without penetrating. Conquest lifted him off his feet, hand wrapped around his throat, and cut off his air. Strong fingers tugged at his wrist to no avail.

The other humans lifted their weapons again, and Famine raised an arm, shaking the ground below them. “I wouldn’t,” he warned them.

“Stand down,” Atlas said. If Conquest thought that meant he’d given in, as any human would have done by now, he was wrong. Atlas changed course instead and buried the knife in the thick of Conquest’s forearm, the tip of it sticking out the other side.

“ Con! ” Raziel rushed forward, holding Conquest’s side. His panic was palpable, his body practically vibrating with it.

“It’s alright,” Conquest said soothingly. “I’m not hurt. Back up a step.” He waited for Raziel to do as he was told before he returned his attention to the Angel-born.

Atlas glanced from where the knife was still buried in Conquest’s arm before their eyes locked again. The blue was piercing, made even more so by the thick lashes shaping them. The expression on his face, however, was far from pleasant. A mixture of disbelief, anger, and a bone-deep helplessness. And yet the determination was still there, bravery in the face of certain death. He’d stopped struggling, but the fight hadn’t left him just yet.

Conquest could change that.

He squeezed Atlas’s throat tighter, cutting off his oxygen, one thumb pressed hard against his jaw. “One touch and I can break your neck. Will you beg for your life?”

“Fuck you. Just do it,” he choked out. The traces of fear in his aura weren’t nearly as potent as Conquest would have expected. The fear leaking from the humans behind him was far worse. A shame.

A soft hand slid across Conquest’s forearm, behind the knife still in him. “He was only protecting his people, the same way that you would protect me,” Raziel said beseechingly. “We’re here to help them, remember?”

“We’re here to scout,” Conquest corrected. Humans. Demons. He didn’t care. Either were fair game. “I told him what would happen if he shot at me again.” No one could say he hadn’t given the warning first. He could have just killed the mouthy human.

“I think he’s learned his lesson, don’t you?” Raziel said innocently. “Let’s try to be civil about this.” His mouth scrunched up in concentration as he took hold of the knife’s handle in Conquest’s arm and slowly pulled it out. Conquest bit back the hiss of pain, not willing to show this human that he’d managed such a feat. The wound knitted itself back together as soon as it was completely out.

Raziel grimaced at the blood on the blade, some of the color in his face draining. He looked around like he was unsure where to put it. “I’m just going to…” He bent and placed it on the ground gingerly. “There’s a good spot.”

Famine chuckled. Paul jumped down and circled it before poking it with a leg. When it moved from the contact he jumped and ran back to Famine, hiding behind his legs. Two eyes peeked around the side a second later.

Atlas renewed his efforts to get out of Conquest’s grip, tugging at his wrist. He planted a boot on Conquest’s chest and pushed.

Conquest let him try, without budging. It wouldn’t accomplish anything without Conquest’s permission, and it was amusing, watching him struggle.

“Please,” Raziel said. “We’re here to help. I want to help.” The implied “so you have to help too,” wasn’t subtle.

Conquest kept Atlas in his grip a moment longer, seeing the burning hatred in those unusually blue eyes before dropping him unceremoniously on the ground.

Atlas landed on one knee instead of in the heap Conquest had been hoping for. He gasped for air for only a heartbeat before standing, picking up his rifle from where it had fallen on the ground as he went. His only saving grace was that he kept it pointed down at his feet and didn’t aim it at Conquest again. Even Raziel wouldn’t have been able to save him if he’d chosen to come at Conquest for a third time.

“Be grateful he was here to save your life because I would have already killed you,” Conquest said dismissively. After he’d toyed with him a little longer, of course. This one wouldn’t break as easily as the rest of the mortals and might even be worth the effort.

Atlas looked at Raziel, a hint of red spreading across his high cheekbones as their eyes met. Twin sets of blue.

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Conquest said darkly. The human would deal with him and him only. His Angel was off-limits.

Atlas immediately switched focus, unblinking. Every line of his sharp face was stubborn, unrelenting, and the fire hadn’t gone out of his eyes. Far from it.

“What are we going to do with you?” Conquest mused.