Chapter 13
They couldn’t take Atlas through the fog without risk of permanent damage, or death, so they walked him back to the jeep he’d driven there. As they got closer, Raziel noticed three men lingering near the vehicle. Not Demons. Human.
Conquest stiffened and grabbed Atlas’s shoulder. “No.”
“Stop it,” was all Atlas said in response, shaking him off and continuing.
Raziel sent Conquest a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asked. They were dressed the same as Atlas. More men from the military. Were they not allies?
Conquest growled and strode forward, a dark scowl on his face. Raziel had to half jog to keep up and then almost smacked into Conquest’s back when he stopped abruptly. Raziel peered around his large frame, blinking curiously at the three men.
They were all… blushing as they looked between Atlas—who shifted uncomfortably—and Conquest.
“We didn’t know if…” one of the men said, trailing off, cheeks reddening further. “If we should wait for you.”
“Thank you,” Atlas said quietly. He put a hand on the passenger door. “We’re done here; it’s time to go back.”
The one in front, different from the man who had spoken, looked curiously at Raziel and then more hesitantly at Conquest, taking a cautious step back. He put his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t speak,” Conquest said, more than a hint of a threat in his voice. “To him or me. Don’t look at him. Don’t even breathe in his direction.” Raziel slipped his hand into Conquest’s, both as a touch point and so that he could hopefully reason with him if he really did try to hurt someone. What was going on?
“You need to calm down,” Atlas said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s fine, Jeremy. Just… maybe refrain from touching me.”
Oh. Touching him. The reason Conquest had been so angry before. It had involved this man. Raziel had a sudden urge to tug Atlas closer to them. And further away from him . Jeremy. Raziel rolled the name around on his tongue and decided he didn’t like it.
“Unless you want broken fingers,” Conquest suggested menacingly.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Atlas asked. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine. Let’s not make it another few weeks before we see each other again.”
Conquest grunted without answering. Raziel hoped they weren’t gone that long without coming back again. He hadn’t liked being away.
Atlas pulled open the door and lifted one foot into the vehicle. “Try not to die. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Raziel hesitated. He didn’t want Atlas going anywhere with this person.
Atlas seemed to sense his hesitation, and he dropped his foot back to the ground. When he lifted an arm, beckoning him, Raziel went straight into his arms, head buried in his chest. Atlas pressed his nose to the top of Raziel’s head, inhaling. “I need you to trust me. Just like I need to trust you.” The words didn’t feel like they were for him.
“Go, then. Let’s see how far this trust gets us.”
Atlas kissed Raziel slowly, drawing out a small whimper. He moved to Raziel’s cheek and then his forehead, cradling his head and lingering.
And then they were gone, driving through the streets and away from him and Conquest.
“Do you trust him?”
“Atlas isn’t the one I’m worried about,” Conquest muttered. “We have to go; Famine and Death are waiting for us.”
Raziel nodded and followed him through the fog.
Victory waited for them when they stepped out into a badly damaged section of the city. Worse than others by far. They hadn’t ventured to this area since the start of the attacks. There were no survivors here, the worst of the massacres having decimated all the buildings and surrounding homes. A suburban area, with the city skyline visible in the distance. What was left of it.
Death and Famine stood in the rubble of a home, and Raziel had to climb over broken concrete and splintered furniture to get near them. Paul rested in Famine’s arms, long legs dangling over the side. He was wriggling but not to get away. Just… happily wriggling as if he could hear music no one else could. Justice—Famine’s mare—and Valkyrie—Death’s—stood beside them. They were dressed for battle. What were they expecting to find here?
Raziel went straight for Victory, clasping her snout between his hands and pressing his forehead to hers. She snorted and leaned into the touch.
“Missed you,” he murmured quietly. In answer, she tried to eat some of his hair, and he gently nudged her away with a half-hearted glare. “That is not food.” She shoved her nose against his pocket as though the statement meant that he was hiding food. If he had food, he would have eaten it by now.
“Where is he?” Conquest asked his brothers. He placed a hand on Raziel’s shoulder, the heavy weight a comfort. And one that rooted him to the spot.
“We don’t know exactly,” Famine said.
Conquest frowned. “You said you’d found him.”
Death crouched and placed a gloved hand on the ground. The concrete surrounding him levitated in the air, shaking from the Power that Death pushed into it. He lifted his hand, and it all dropped. “There’s energy here. I can almost feel him, more than anywhere else.”
Conquest surveyed the area, clearly unimpressed. “Something special about this place?”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Famine said, shrugging. “Could be pure coincidence.”
“If I can open the fog here,” Death said, standing, “I think I can create a gateway to wherever he is.”
“Why hasn’t he done that himself?”
Death’s hood shook in answer. Raziel tried to peer into it and see his face; only darkness lay in the depths. “I don’t know. Something may be preventing him from being able to. Perhaps he’s simply enjoying an extended holiday.”
“He could have taken us with him if that were the case.”
“I could use a day at the beach, with a drink in a coconut,” Famine said, lips twitching.
“With one of those little umbrellas?” Raziel asked eagerly. He’d seen those. The lack of practicality of having an umbrella that size confounded him—it wasn’t going to protect anything except a small bug from the rain—but the drinks they went in sounded fascinating.
“We’ll get you one,” Famine promised. He lifted Paul up onto the back of Justice and made sure he was stable before letting go. “This is going to take considerable energy. Death’s and mine. It might attract some unsavory guests, so be prepared.”
Conquest summoned his glaive and rotated it in his palm. “I’m always prepared to take off a few heads.”
Raziel fingered where his sai rested on his hip. He didn’t bring his wings out yet, somewhere deep inside hoping that he wouldn’t have to get them out. That they wouldn’t have to fight. Not everything needed to end in bloodshed, did it?
The second that Death lowered himself to his knees, head bowing forward, the wind picked up around them. Victory’s braided mane almost smacked Raziel in the face, only Conquest’s quick reflexes preventing it. He kept it wrapped around his fist to stop it swinging around. Raziel appreciated that.
Famine moved to Death’s side, close enough that Raziel’s heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t he too close?
Green strands of Famine’s Power ebbed around him before sinking into Death. Raziel planted his feet, bracing himself as the wind picked up, furiously circling them like a tornado catching them in its grip.
Conquest slid an arm around Raziel, keeping him close. Lightning hit the center of the makeshift storm, and Raziel flinched, terror freezing his veins. He’d never seen anyone open a portal like this before. What would be on the other side of so much turmoil?
Ever so slowly, fog lifted from where the lightning had struck, pulling up from the depths of the earth until it formed a perfect circle.
It wasn’t like anything Raziel had felt before. There was an innate wrongness to it, darkness pouring from it like a physical curse. He had a bad feeling about what would happen if they touched it.
They waited, strain appearing on Famine’s face as the seconds ticked by. Neither War nor Uriel emerged.
“What’s happening?” Raziel asked, peering up at Conquest. “Are they—are they in trouble?” What kind of trouble would hinder War and Uriel ?
Conquest rested the blade of his glaive on the ground, brows drawing in, a sheen of sweat across his forehead. “Famine?”
“I don’t know,” Famine ground out. “Someone needs to—” He cut off with a groan. “Someone needs to go in and find him. I don’t know how long we can keep this open. Death is almost drained already. Whatever is in there, it’s pulling from us faster than we can handle.”
Raziel didn’t like the sound of that. Something that could render Death powerless in a matter of minutes? No, thanks. Surely they should leave now and find another way to get to War?
“I’ll go in,” Conquest said, voice easily carrying in the furious wind. “Keep Raziel safe.”
“No,” Raziel blurted, grabbing Conquest’s hand. “What if—what if you don’t come back?” Famine had said they couldn’t hold it long. What happened if it closed, and Conquest got trapped in there? That wasn’t a risk that Raziel was willing to take, not even to save War’s life. War could look after himself. Raziel couldn’t live without Conquest.
“Then I guess the human gets you all to himself,” Conquest said flippantly.
“I won’t live in a world without you,” Raziel argued. That wasn’t an option he was ever willing to entertain. “Let me go with you.”
“No.” Conquest cupped Raziel’s cheek. “I’m coming back.”
“You don’t know where that leads.”
“Losing your confidence in me, baby Angel? Whatever it is, I can handle it. If War is there, then I have to go. I won’t leave my brother.”
Raziel swallowed around the lump in his throat. He knew that. Their bond would eclipse all else. Forged in time, blood, and tragedy. That didn’t mean he liked it, or that he was comfortable with this. If that meant he was being selfish, then so be it. If he had to choose one of the brothers, he would always choose this one.
“Be careful,” he said, voice hitching.
“I’m always careful.”
Raziel would beg to differ, but Conquest was already gone. Paul peeked between Raziel’s legs, eight curious eyes staring at the spot Conquest had stood. Raziel patted him gently on the head, taking comfort in the movement.
Death moaned low and swayed forward, the wind picking up. Raziel planted his feet to stop himself from flying away, and Paul latched onto his leg, wrapping around him like a monkey.
Famine steadied Death, the stream of green flowing into the fourth rider darkening and widening. Pouring more in. How much did Famine have to give? How much more would Death take? Would Conquest be sacrificing two brothers to save the other? What if it closed before Conquest and War could get back?
Raziel struggled to draw in breath, panic choking him with all the “what ifs” bouncing around in his head.
Victory nudged him gently with her shoulder, and Raziel grasped her mane, heart in his throat. He’s going to be fine. He was Conquest, the White Rider, the first Horseman of the Apocalypse. He paved the way and led the charge. He was stronger than anything the world could throw at him.
He’s going to be fine .
Come back to me .
An explosion burst behind them. A building on the other side of the city—near the same skyline that Raziel had admired not long ago—collapsed in a swirl of flame and dust.
“What is that?” Raziel squeaked out.
“Lucifer,” Famine said in a strained voice. “He’s—coming—Con needs to hurry up.”
Raziel wrung his hands nervously. He pushed his Gift out, six black wings spreading wide, the poisonous acid inside him bubbling under the surface. Ready and waiting. Raziel wasn’t the weak Angel he’d once been in Heaven, waiting for someone to give him attention and a purpose.
Because of Conquest, he was strong and formidable, and he would fight whatever came their way while they waited for him to rescue War. Victory snorted and stamped a hoof. Raziel patted her gently as he circled her, watching the horizon. Every few minutes, a new building collapsed, each one closer. Did Lucifer know they were here, carving a path of blood in his wake on his way to them?
Famine hunched over Death, pain etched across his face, hair flickering wildly in the wind. The Power that Death siphoned from him seemed weaker now, a light, translucent green instead of the vibrant color it had been only minutes before. He didn’t have much left, and Death looked like he had less even than that.
Hurry, Conquest. We need you here.
The fog flickered. And then, right before Raziel’s horrified eyes, began closing. Then it got worse.
Death slumped forward, and the wind disappeared.
Famine tried to catch him, fumbled, and then they both hit the ground. Raziel went to help, and Famine barked out, “Don’t. Raziel, stay over there.”
Raziel froze. “Is he—is he okay?”
“Just exhausted,” Famine said tiredly, pushing himself up. “I’ve spent years knowing how to hold him without killing myself. You don’t have that luxury, and Conquest would never forgive me if something happened to you while he was gone.” He wrapped Death’s cloak tighter around his form and across his face, removing any chance of his skin touching anywhere. When he lifted Death up onto the back of Valkyrie, Death immediately fell forward, head resting in her mane. Raziel opened his mouth to cry out, warn Famine. Except that Valkyrie was… fine? Though now that he thought about it, it made sense that Death’s own mare could handle his touch.
Valkyrie shifted, bearing his weight with a small tap dance on her hooves.
Paul climbed up onto Famine’s shoulders, two legs dangling in front and the other four around his chest. He sniffed Death’s leg and then rested his head on top of Famine’s with what Raziel could only describe as a huff.
“What happens now?” he asked desperately. Death wasn’t holding the fog open anymore. His only gateway to Conquest was closing, and where was he? Raziel burst forward to go through. If Conquest was going to be stuck, Raziel would go with him. They could be stuck together. Atlas would have to forgive them and know that they would find their way back to him when they could.
Victory blocked his path.
“What are you doing?” Raziel barked out. No . He had to get to Conquest!
She pushed him with her snout, forcing him back with a threatening snap of her teeth. Raziel squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead on her flank. He screamed silently, fisting his hands against her softness.
Conquest, please. I need you. Come back.
The fog was almost completely closed now, taking Raziel’s heart with him.
Conquest emerged as if he’d heard Raziel’s plea. War followed seconds later, covered in blood and holding an injured Archangel Uriel in his arms. He staggered on the rubble. Uriel slid out of his arms, and War dove forward, breaking the Archangel’s fall and then gently lowering him the rest of the way.
The last time Raziel had seen this Archangel, he’d been fighting them at the estate after killing him and almost killing Conquest. Terrifying and cruel, Raziel feared him more than even Lucifer. Seeing him like this didn’t feel right.
Lifeless, bleeding, a bone sticking out of his stomach. Was he already gone? If not, then soon. Uriel hadn’t died in Raziel’s lifetime. He’d seen other Angels fall and rise again, and the way it happened, the almost zombie-like state they began in, horrified him. Raziel hated it; even the thought of it had bile rising in his throat.
Who they were eventually came back, using the memories that didn’t really belong to them to reshape themselves. Sometimes the same. Sometimes different. Their past life’s memories were like watching a mortal movie, and the reaction didn’t always stay the same for each Cycle.
Who would return if Uriel died? Someone better? The same? Worse ?
War knelt beside the Archangel, touching fingers to the edges of his wound. How had Uriel gotten a bone in there? Why hadn’t he healed already? As far as injuries went, it was minor in comparison to some things Raziel had seen since meeting Conquest. Something that healed in the blink of an eye.
War took hold of the sharp end of the bone that was sticking up and then pulled it out in one easy slide. Uriel moaned, twitching. Still unconscious. That couldn’t be normal.
“Why isn’t it healing?” War growled.
Conquest stood over the two of them with a dark scowl. “Is he already dead? That will save me from having to do it.”
“Touch one fucking hair on him, and—”
“And what? Are you seriously threatening me?”
Another explosion rocked the city, and Raziel flinched at how close it sounded. He gripped Victory’s mane tightly, tensing. They’d gotten War. Could they leave now? He was “team leaving now.”
“Just leave him here,” Conquest ordered.
“I already told you—”
Raziel let out a tiny involuntary scream of fright as a bright light burst over them, blanketing them in silent white for a frozen second. He stumbled backward and against Victory at the sight of God standing in front of War, Uriel, and Conquest.
Fear lashed at Raziel, and he trembled, hoping that Victory hid him well enough. Maybe God wouldn’t know he was here? Why was he here?
The long robes God wore looked unnaturally white in the Mortal Dimension, in a place they didn’t belong like they did in Heaven. The calm, serene expression on his face was eerie, and Raziel shifted, hiding further behind Victory’s long neck.
“Fuck off,” War said bluntly. “Your help isn’t wanted here.”
“Help can be offered freely,” God said. “And Uriel is part of my flock.”
What about me? Raziel wanted to scream. Hadn’t he been part of that flock? They’d discarded him so easily, leaving him here to die with the Horsemen. If Conquest hadn’t fallen in love with him, hadn’t taken pity on him and saved him, he would already be dead. And God and his “flock” had chosen to do nothing about that even when they could have.
Had he been so insignificant he hadn’t mattered? Or had they been hoping that Conquest would kill him and fix the mistake they’d made?
War stood and unsheathed his sword, pointing it directly at God. In the next moment, it lit on fire, the heat so harsh Raziel could feel it from where he stood. Raziel had never seen someone stand up to God this way.
“He doesn’t belong to you,” War snarled.
He said it like Uriel belonged to him . What was going on?
Conquest turned, holding up a hand in a clear “stay-back” gesture. What did he think Raziel would do? God was literally standing right there. Not a fight he could win. Could any of them? If God chose to fight, what hope did they have? Death and Famine were depleted, and War seemed more concerned with protecting Uriel than anything else.
Where had they been? What had happened?
“He is an Archangel of Heaven,” God said. “Stand aside, and let me heal him.”
“No,” War answered, no give in his tone whatsoever.
“He has gone too far to the side of death. He doesn’t have enough energy left for his immortality to heal him now. Only I can bring him back from this brink.”
How had he gotten so close to death? From a simple wound? Raziel’s gaze darted between them all, the tension in the air so high he couldn’t breathe.
“Bullshit,” War spat. “You aren’t the fucking answer to everything.”
The indulgent smile God gave in return turned Raziel’s stomach. He wished Conquest would turn around so he could urge him to leave. He wanted them all to leave. Lucifer was getting closer, every blast inching its way toward them. God was too strong, even the sheer power radiating off him enough to freeze Raziel and make him want to hide.
God lifted a hand, hovering it over Uriel’s body. It wasn’t the first time Raziel had seen this kind of power, but it had never been from God himself. It lit Uriel’s skin up like lights turning on beneath his skin. The wound in his stomach knitted together until it healed, like it had never been there. Not even the blood remained on Uriel’s skin. Once it had healed, his Archangel armor spread across him as if it had a mind of its own as well. The white fabric covered him, and then he looked like he always did.
Completely perfect. Horror in white clothing.
The Archangel’s eyes shot open, instantly looking to War. The tension, already too high, rose as they stared. Raziel felt like he was intruding on something private.
God held out a hand and said, “Come, Uriel, we have much to do.”
What did that mean? “Much to do”? The Archangels were doing his bidding. To what end?
Uriel glanced back at War and then stood gracefully, movement swift and easy as though he hadn’t been lying almost dead on the ground moments ago. He shifted to stand beside God, one step behind him. His bow materialized on his back, the white timber shining bright with an icy glow, like steam coming off ice. Uriel reached behind himself, touching it lightly, and then straightened.
God inclined his head to the Red Rider. “War.”
“You don’t have to go with him,” War said, ignoring God completely. “You and I have unfinished business.”
Uriel turned and nodded at God, ignoring War in return. War’s face twisted into raw anger. The heat coming from him was palpable, almost too hot to remain standing nearby. Raziel tugged uncomfortably at his armor, wanting to take a layer off.
War swung at God, and Raziel gasped loudly, heart fluttering wildly. God flung the sword away from him with a burst of light. War didn’t falter, thrusting the metal of his sword into the ground between Uriel’s feet.
Conquest moved swiftly to Raziel’s side, one hand planted on his chest. “Stay behind me, no matter what happens, understood?”
Raziel nodded numbly. He wanted to leave, to flee the real danger they were in.
War clenched Uriel’s armor in his first and tugged him until they were so close Raziel wondered if they were about to kiss. That undertone between them… had he imagined it, or was there something there? Was that the tension he felt? Sexual ? It couldn’t be.
“Don’t do this,” War said through gritted teeth.
“What did you think was going to happen, War?” Uriel said, cruelty in his voice that Raziel was all too familiar with. “That I would confess my love, and we would live happily ever after?” Uriel raised a brow. “You were a means to an end. I needed your help to survive, so I did what I needed to.”
Raziel’s vision blurred, past and present merging. Pain across his throat as Uriel sliced it open. Conquest on the ground, missing his heart. A hand on his shoulder steadied him, and he looked up at Conquest’s hard face.
“Raziel?”
“I’m okay,” he said shakily. He was okay. They both were, and they were here together. They’d fought through all of the obstacles and come out the other side.
“ Bullshit ,” War spat.
“Let go of me.”
“You have a choice .”
Some part of Raziel recognized the hopelessness in War’s gaze. He’d felt that so many times over the years. That crushing need for something, anything about the situation to be different. Futile emotions that couldn’t be stopped. Hope always found a way in, only making everything worse when nothing worked out the way it should.
The cruel smile that twisted Uriel’s features changed his entire face from a benevolent Archangel watching his flock, to an Archangel whose goal was the only thing that mattered. The difference mattered, and Raziel’s blood ran cold.
“I gave you what you wanted, and you had a good time. Leave it at that.” Uriel swept his free arm in a broad circle, ice erupting from the ground.
Raziel jerked forward, as if he could stop it, when a large shard of ice sprang up from the ground and speared right through War, sending him flying back toward where they stood.
Conquest yelled “War!” as he moved like lightning toward his brother. He still didn’t make it in time. War hit the ground hard, and the shard shattered. Conquest dropped to a knee beside him, lifting him into a sitting position, hands over his chest to check the damage. The ice melted quickly, likely because War burned hotter simply by existing as he was. The wound healed around it as it disappeared.
“You’re fucking dead, Uriel,” Conquest growled, turning to face the smug Archangel.
Raziel clenched his hands into fists at his side. He wanted to stand between them, be the shield for Conquest, but terror had him frozen in place, unable to make his feet move. Uriel still terrified him, even knowing they were closer to equals than they had ever been. He couldn’t control his visceral reaction, not after everything.
“I’m going to carve my name on your chest, and then I’m going to rip out your heart,” Conquest promised.
Uriel ignored him completely, his eyes only for War. Something sparked between them, but it couldn’t be what Raziel thought it was. They hated each other. How could there be more? How could affection find room?
“This isn’t over,” War whispered, so low that Raziel strained to pick up the words. “Not even fucking close. Don’t think that it is.”
Raziel winced at the sudden bright light. Then only Raziel and the Horsemen remained in the vicinity. He tentatively stepped closer to the brothers, the silence deafening. “War? Are you okay?” he asked.
War didn’t answer. He stood, grimacing as he dusted himself off. He looked a mess: tattered armor falling off, pieces missing, and dried blood in numerous places. Wherever he’d been, it hadn’t treated him well.
“What the fuck just happened?” Conquest asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Raziel fell to his knees when another explosion rocked the area, one too close for comfort. Would they have to fight Lucifer too?
Conquest lifted Raziel to his feet with ease. “Alright?” he asked quietly.
Raziel nodded firmly. If he couldn’t handle this, he had no right to stand at a Horseman’s side. And that was his place. He would prove it. And maybe… Raziel glanced at Conquest with a tentative smile. Maybe Atlas belonged on the other side? Deep down—or not that deep down, really—Raziel wanted that.
Wanted Conquest to be more okay with what they were doing than he was. Raziel loved him with everything he was, and sharing parts of his heart with someone else didn’t lessen that at all. It was big enough for both of them.
“We can talk about it when we leave,” Famine said. “We need to get Death out of here.”
“Did you at least get my crown back?” Conquest demanded.
The anger hid the loss he felt without his Focus. Could his brothers hear it? Raziel did. Now that Raziel had his wings, he could never imagine being parted from them. In a lot of ways, Conquest’s crown was his wings. An integral part of who he was.
Raziel placed a hand on Conquest’s arm, hoping he conveyed just how much he understood while he said, “Later,” softly. None of them were at full strength, and with Lucifer hot on their heels, they needed a hasty exit. Not to mention, Uriel had left already. They would find his crown and reclaim it. When the time was right.
Conquest’s jaw tightened, gray gaze flickering. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Paul climbed War’s legs, searching his pockets.
“What are you doing?” War asked.
“I’m sorry,” Raziel whispered to Conquest.
He cradled Raziel’s face, large hands spanning the sides, fingers gliding into his hair. “Your safety is more important than my crown.”
Raziel knew that. He was the reason that his Horseman didn’t have it; Conquest had given it up for him. Because he’d been too weak to protect himself, to defend himself.
“I would give up my wings for you.” And he would, without hesitation. No matter how important they were to him, it couldn’t compare to Conquest’s importance.
Conquest kissed Raziel, hard and fast. Raziel whimpered, clinging, lust swirling in his stomach like butterflies dancing. He reached up, and Conquest pulled him up and into his arms.
He broke the kiss and lifted Raziel onto Victory sidesaddle. Once he settled, Conquest swung up behind him, trapping him in with powerful thighs. Raziel stayed riding sidesaddle, resting his temple against Conquest’s chest and leaning against him. He was more comfortable this way, without having to spread his legs so wide on Victory’s large body.
War whistled a melody Raziel had never heard before, and then his mare, Feud, came barreling through the fog. The flames covering her flickered angrily, her red coat shining under the fire, with veins of heat running across her skin, rivers of molten red. Her unbraided mane and tail fluttered under the moving fire, embers floating around her.
Her stunning appearance was outshone only by her deadliness. As bold and awe-inspiring as her rider.
War staggered back a step as she rushed him and Paul, who clung to him, squeaking. He jumped off and made his way across the rubble to where Famine waited patiently.
“That’s rude,” War said to his mare. “I didn’t abandon you, and I would have brought you a souvenir if I’d found something worthy of you.”
Feud flicked her tail, ash and embers rising into the air before settling in War’s long dark braid, hanging over his shoulder. It lit on fire, and Raziel jumped. His hair was on fire!
Conquest steadied him with an arm around his waist. “Easy. That will hurt you more than him. The only flames in the world that could cause War damage are Diablo’s Hellfire, and then only on a good day.”
Diablo—Lucifer—still closed in on them. If they didn’t leave now, they might be putting that to the test soon.
“We need to leave,” Famine said, holding out a hand for Paul to climb onto. He moved up and onto Famine’s shoulders. Famine lifted himself up behind Death and leaned forward, patting the horse’s translucent mane. “Go, Valkyrie.”
Conquest turned Victory, urging her forward. Raziel rested back against him, the trotting movement soothing him. He pulled out his sai, twirling it in his hand absently as they moved through the eerie fog.
Back to Atlas.