“Because you got Calix killed.” Torpidius’s muscles bunched and pulsed, straining the seams of his so-2000s human outfit. Hells, the fucker looked like he was auditioning for a boy band. With the power the stupid cunt knuckle was now putting out, Asmodeus and Uriel had an open invitation to come on by.
“Dull your power.” Ashe did not want to die tonight.
Torpidius snarled. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll do it for you.” Done with playing, Ashe straightened and glanced around the group. “That goes for all of you. If I can sense you, you can bet your asses so can Asmodeus and Uriel.”
Everyone but Torpidius obeyed instantly.
Ashe got to the point of the tête-à-tête. “Tell me where Belphegor is.”
“Fuck off.” Torpidius ripped through his shirt. Horns sprouted from his head, and scales armored his body. “Demons who work with you end up dead.”
“As do demons that refuse me.” Ashe closed the distance between them and punched through Torpidius’s chest wall. Ashe ripped the still beating heart from his chest and ate it.
As Torpidius’s body crashed to the debris riddled floor, his power invaded Ashe.
Suppressing the desire to spew, Ashe forced himself to relax and let the new power merge with his own. He tested out his new acquisition and located a small ping. Got her!
The remaining demons watched him, frozen in fear. It was dog eat dog in this demon rebellion, and only the strongest and most vicious curs survived. He pointed to Edacia. “You’re in charge.”
Swallowing, Edacia nodded.
“Keep your power muted,” Ashe said. “And make sure the rest of them do too.” He let his gaze travel over them one by one. “You know what happens if you fuck this up.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dust and rock coalesced into a humanoid form, and Pestilence rose from the ground. Beneath them, in the place of timeless rest, War stirred. Pestilence opened their senses to the world they now inhabited. Information flooded their awareness. Eons of knowledge flashed behind their closed eyelids and filtered into their being.
As was foretold, they clothed themselves in argent and affixed to their lapel a small brooch of a bow and arrow.
For their steed, they chose that machine called Ducati and brought it into being.
Around them, Pestilence sensed living organisms in a near overwhelming array. Humanity had become numerous in the time they had rested. It nigh overran this plane in its multitudes. Life pulsed through the very earth from which Pestilence had risen. Opening their eyes, they breathed it in, absorbed it, and shaped it into purpose.
The ground shook beneath their feet as War came closer to walking beside them.
And beneath all that humanity and life, pulsed the leakage from the seals.
After throwing their leg over the bike, Pestilence rode forth. War would follow, and then Famine. Finally, would come Death and there would be no stopping them until their purpose was fulfilled.
“Sophia,” Lillian hissed. “It’s your line.”
Ancient power slammed into Sophia, disorienting her. “Eh?”
She blinked the stage back into focus.
“Your line is: ‘Oh! Not at all, Gwendolyn. I am very fond of being looked at.’” Lillian peered at her expectantly.
The theater. The Paradise Players. Sophia was in rehearsal for The Importance of Being Earnest.
“I’m sorry.” She inhaled and tried to calm the raging panic inside her. “I need to…er…the bathroom.”
A frown almost creased her smooth forehead as Lillian said, “Can’t you wait? We’re in the middle of our scene.”
“No.” Sophia managed a weak smile. By all the hosts of heaven, she hoped she was wrong and hadn’t felt what she thought she had. She needed to get away from the clueless humans and verify, breathe, get herself together. “I’m sorry. I must have eaten something bad for lunch.”
“Oh!” Lillian backed away from her, green eyes wide and mouth scrunched in distaste. “Go! You better go and deal with that.”
Lillian had no idea how right she was.
“All right, kids.” Peter stood in the auditorium and smoothed his salt and pepper Clark Kent do. “Let’s take ten. Poppet?” He leered at Lillian. “There is something I’d like to discuss with you. About the…er…scene. In private.”
“Babe,” Lillian purred. “Of course. You know I’m always available to discuss my character with you. Alone.”
They beat Sophia out the stage right exit and disappeared together down the hall.
Escaping to the greenroom, she found Chris Fellows. Her heart sank as Sophia took in his grim expression. “I felt it,” she whispered.
Chris took her elbow and guided her to one of the large leather sofas. “We all felt it. Our monitoring systems are going insane.”
“Is it…” Sophia couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
Nodding, Chris sat beside her. “Yes.”
“Shit! This is…” She couldn’t think of a word bad enough to encompass this disaster.
“Catastrophic,” Chris said.
Sophia sensed Shade approaching moments before he entered the greenroom. “They’re awake.” He shoved his hands through his caramel hair. “Pestilence is awake.”
Eddie had followed Shade in, and she glanced at the faces around her. “What happens now?”
“None of us has ever seen this. According to lore, now they ride.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, Shade drew her closer to him.
Sophia wished she had someone to comfort her. She forced words past her tight throat. “Pestilence will bring the end closer as they ride.”
“Waking the others,” Chris finished for her. “It’s a knock-on effect.”
“Pestilence?” Eddie’s gaze darted to Shade. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
Shade nodded. “Yup, people are going to get very fucking sick and die.”
Eddie went even paler. “How do we stop them?”
