Page 14 of Conquest (The Four Horsemen #1)

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Conquest paced the length of the island counter in the kitchen, rotating his glaive in large circular arcs as he went. He glanced at where Death was sitting cross legged in the middle of the living room floor. He was levitating, his black robe flared around him and all the furniture in the room had been pushed away from the pulses of his Power. War was kneeling close to him, his head bowed, eyes closed. He was on fire and deep in meditation, allowing Death to feed from him.

Death had been searching for hours already, and Conquest was almost at the end of his rope. If anyone even looked at him funny, he was going to lose his shit. If God could have taken Raziel from them at any time why hadn’t he? Why had he chosen now?

With a yell, Conquest swung the blade of his weapon into the island countertop. It slid in deep, slicing the counter clean in half.

Paul climbed up the counter and onto the weapon, feeling it with his pedipalps.

“ What is taking so long?” Diablo said irritably.

“Be patient,” Famine murmured. He held out an arm and Paul climbed his body to perch on it.

Diablo produced a dead animal from his pocket and handed it to Paul, who eagerly began to wrap it in webbing. Diablo stroked his fingers over the spider’s head, murmuring sweet nothings at him. The warmth in Famine’s eyes as he watched them was enough to make Conquest sick.

The entire thing was enough to make him sick. Those two needed to stay as far from each other as possible. And Conquest preferred it when Paul ate in private, because it was fucking disgusting.

Conquest pulled his glaive out and swung again, until the counter was a pile of splinters.

“Have a little finesse, Connie.”

That fucking smirk. Conquest advanced on Diablo, and pinned him to the wall with one hand pressed dangerously close to his throat. “You know something. You always know something! Where would they take him? Where, Diablo?”

“Get your hands off me.”

Conquest pressed harder. “Answer me or so help me I will rip out your fucking throat!”

Diablo hissed as his fangs extended. Conquest elbowed him in the face before Diablo could bite. Diablo twisted out of his hold and kneed him in the side before slicing across his shoulder with his claws. Conquest sent a burst of energy and blasted Diablo’s left arm off.

“Stop!”

Cold spiraled around Conquest and Diablo both, until neither could breathe. They were forced to their knees, both coughing and heaving. Death came into view, one hand extended towards them, his scythe floating beside his form.

“Behaving like children will get neither of us anywhere,” Death stated. “If you cannot behave yourself, Diablo, you may take your leave.”

Diablo spat blood onto the tiling beside him as he stood. His arm was slowly regrowing, but it would take him at least an hour before it was of any use again. Conquest curled his glaive behind him and hooked it to the strap on his back.

Conquest’s gaze flicked to where War was laid on the sofa, out cold. He wouldn’t wake for a few hours, at least, depending on how much power Death had siphoned from him. “Did you find him?” Conquest asked.

Death nodded solemnly. “They’ve taken him far beyond our reach.”

Conquest scowled. “What does that mean?” He didn’t care, he just needed a destination to head to. He would hunt God and his Archangels to every corner of the universe if that’s what it took to return his Angel to his side. They would deal with the Abaddon situation later, but if Diablo thought he was taking Raziel back to the Hells with him, Conquest would fight him too.

“A strange plane, one I can’t feel properly, only the shape of it. When I sought access, I was repelled violently. But it does have a distinct flavor to it.” Death touched his gloved fingers to the handle of his scythe. “I believe that only Conquest will be able to get through.”

“Why would it only allow Conquest through?” Famine asked.

“God is tampering with it. If anyone else tries to get through they’re going to die. I can’t guarantee what would happen to the soul after that. Since the last Holy War the Heavens have been…shifting.” Death glanced at Diablo, who was flicking a dagger around his fingers on his good hand. “What you told me, about Raphael’s enhanced healing abilities. There’s a possibility that by turning Raziel, the first Demon to be granted entrance into the Heavens, God has created a power imbalance.”

“He is not a Demon,” Conquest hissed. The Angel he had slept with, the Angel who was his in every way, was not the psychotic left hand of the Devil. He would never let Abaddon touch him, no matter the form he took.

“Believe what you want, I know who he is,” Diablo said. “And the Heavens don’t frighten me, they can bring it and so will I.”

“This is bigger than a war between the Heavens and Hells,” Death said. “And you should be more cautious.”

“As fascinating as this chat is, tell us where Abaddon is and I’ll be on my way.”

Death cocked his head to the side. Black tendrils wrapped around his scythe and he took a firm hold, spinning it once. “You are not immune to whatever God has done. If you follow, you will not return.”

“You think I’m afraid to die?” Diablo snarled. “God can kiss my ass!”

“I think you’re afraid of what you might lose,” Death said, his gaze unwavering. “Conquest will go, no others.”

“It feels like a trap,” Famine said. He bent to allow Paul to crawl from his arm. “Why would God only allow Conquest to go through? No-one should go until we understand what he’s after.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Diablo drawled. “He wants to get Connie alone. Even I figured that one out.” He stroked a hand down a horn. “Well, do be a good boy and retrieve my Demon.”

“I don’t answer to you,” Conquest growled. “And if you want to take my Angel, you better be prepared to die.”

Diablo raised a single brow at him. “I’ll be returning for him. Don’t make me wait too long.”

Conquest threw his glaive at the King of the Hells. Diablo disappeared in a cloud of fog and the glaive went straight through, embedding itself in the wall behind it.

“Lucifer is not our primary concern,” Death said. “We can worry about him later.”

Conquest couldn’t agree more. He had more important things to worry about. Like feeding the Archangels their own wings. He was going to torture them until they begged him to stop, and then he would keep going. He would make them scream until they went insane from the pain.

Death placed a hand above his shoulder, hovering close enough that Conquest could feel the cold emanating from it. Death was unable to touch, and this was the closest he would ever get to any of them. “Conquest, Famine is correct that this is a trap . This is unlike any summoning we’ve ever dealt with, and it’s important that we tread carefully. Is this Angel worth the risk you are about to take?”

“Yes,” Conquest said, with no hesitation. Raziel was his. The broken Angel had wormed his way inside Conquest so deeply that Conquest couldn’t have gotten him out even if he wanted to. Conquest burned for him, would give him the world on a silver platter if he asked. And he would kill anyone who got in his way.

Death nodded. “Call if you require aid.”

“If you call, we will come,” Famine agreed.

Conquest agreed, but they all knew that he wouldn’t call for them. He would never risk them. If he were to die for this, he would do it alone. And he would take every fucking Angel that existed with him.

“Where am I going?”

Death summoned the fog, and it slowly wrapped around Conquest as it pulled him from the ground.

Conquest gave his brothers one last nod.

* * *

Conquest staggered out of the fog, a headache throbbing behind his eyes. He’d never had a journey that bumpy before. The fog had pushed at him from all sides, and it had felt like it had been trying to suffocate him. His crown and his Power had been the only reason he hadn’t been crushed under the pressure. Death had considered this letting him through?

He scowled as his surroundings became clear. A large white cloud, clear blue skies. He was in the fucking Heavens. Not a place he frequented often, and one he preferred to avoid at all costs. The superiority was always thick in the air and Conquest had no time for it.

Archangels Uriel and Zadkiel were standing at the edge of the cloud, Raziel kneeling at their feet, facing Conquest. It wasn’t Raziel’s position that made his blood run cold. It was the sword held at his throat. Not just any sword; it was Michael’s Sword of Light. It was thought to have been lost in the last Holy War. More secrets from God and his pets.

Raziel’s eyes were glazed over, and his posture was stiff and unnatural. It reeked of Uriel and his ice Gift.

“I’m starting to get sick of seeing your face, Uri,” Conquest said in greeting.

“The feeling is mutual, believe me.”

Conquest crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why don’t you hand over my Angel, and we can part ways.”

“The Angel does not belong to you,” Zadkiel said. “He is one of God’s children, pure of light and untarnished.”

“Untarnished?” Conquest stroked his beard. “Not the word I’d use, Z. He’s been plenty tarnished.”

Uriel’s face curled in disgust.

A crack of lightning erupted at Conquest’s feet, searing a hole in the cloud. Conquest raised a single brow in challenge. If they were trying to scare him, they needed to do better than that.

“You want Raziel? The terms are simple,” Uriel said.

“None of you know the meaning of that word,” Conquest said. “And what makes you think I’m interested in bargaining with you? Hand him over and I don’t pluck you like a chicken. Those are the terms.” Whatever game they were playing, he refused to play it with them. There were few in all of the dimensions, if any, that could handle Uriel’s ice over a prolonged period of time before the damage became permanent. Raziel’s lips were beginning to turn blue, and Conquest wanted to get him out of there.

“The Angel for your crown and my bow.”

Conquest glanced between the Archangels. The tension hiding under the surface told a different story from their words. He didn’t trust God’s warriors. They might have embodied the seven virtues but they weren’t pure, and they were more like the mythical fae that some mortals believed were real than beings of light. Half-truths and lies hidden behind pretty smiles and open arms.

“Your blood for his, Conquest,” Uriel said. “If you refuse, he dies.”

Conquest couldn’t control the wisps of energy that leaked from his crown and danced around him. Uriel was playing with him, and he was not fucking amused. “It goes against everything you are to kill an Angel.”

“But he’s not really an Angel, is he?”

Conquest grit his teeth. That fucker had known all along. Why had they left Raziel with Conquest so long? What was their plan? Conquest abhorred being in the dark, even more than being powerless.

“Well, if he means nothing to you, then this was just a waste of time, wasn’t it?” Uriel pressed the sword into Raziel’s throat, and a trickle of blood trailed down to his collarbone. It froze halfway down, solidifying on Raziel’s skin.

Conquest’s arms unfurled involuntarily. He knew the moment he jerked forward that he’d given up the ruse, and made a monumental error he’d had no hope of stopping. It didn’t matter; the coldest Archangel in existence had already known what Raziel meant to him. Uriel didn’t make a move unless he was certain of the results. The Archangel of Diligence didn’t make mistakes.

“You can’t use my crown,” Conquest said, snarling. “It will speak to no-one but me. What is the point of this?”

“It’s a coveted prize, Conquest, and means more than the Power that falls from it. Without it, you’re weak. Without it, I can rid the world of you and your brothers. You were a stain we never needed. I’m here to rectify that blunder.” Uriel pulled Raziel’s head back by his hair, revealing more of his throat. “Now, choose. Your crown or your Angel. God created an abomination and his immortality is a fine thread. What do you think will happen when this sword drains him?”

The Sword of Light had the potential to sever the immortality of any of them, let alone Raziel, who had always been fragile, so easily broken. Conquest had been uncertain if any death for Raziel would have been permanent, anyway. Even with the immense power below the surface, Abaddon’s power, it wasn’t a guarantee that it would protect him. Perhaps Abaddon would resurrect, but Raziel? It was a gamble, and one that Conquest wasn’t willing to make.

He wouldn’t risk his Angel for the world.

Conquest slowly raised his hand and took his crown from atop his head.

He knew in his heart that this was a trick, that Uriel had something up his sleeve. But Uriel was still an Archangel and Conquest had to hope that it would be their saving grace.

He handed his crown to Zadkiel without hesitation. The Archangel inclined his head in thanks, his eyes closing briefly. He turned and stepped from the cloud, his large light purple wings unfurling as he flew away at rapid speed.

“And my bow,” Uriel urged. “This deal is not yet complete.”

Conquest imagined all the ways he was going to make Uriel suffer, how much he would enjoy listening to him scream until there were no sounds left to give. He summoned the bow, along with the quiver of arrows, and threw them at Uriel’s feet. They clattered loudly. “Raziel. Now.”

“You’re a fool, Conquest.”

Conquest felt the cut across Raziel’s throat like a physical blow to his chest. “No!”

Raziel came out of the trance he was in, his eyes widening as a horrific gurgling poured from his mouth. Uriel let go of him with a shove and the Angel fell face first into the cloud. Vibrant red soaked into the cloud as it pooled around Raziel like a flood.

Dizziness hit Conquest like a Hellhound, his vision blurring. No. No. Anger hit him in the gut, and he threw a powerful force of energy, the hardest he could muster without his crown. Uriel was knocked from the cloud.

Conquest fell to his knees beside Raziel’s twitching body. Trying not to jostle him too much, Conquest turned him, pulling him into his arms. “No,” he said roughly. “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

Raziel’s entire throat was open, gushing more blood than Conquest would have imagined was even contained in Raziel’s small body. He tried to use his energy to stitch the skin back together but his Power wouldn’t cooperate. Healing had never been his forte, not like Famine or Death, and without his crown his strength was severely diminished. He was useless. His heart in his throat, he continued to try, pushing more and more energy into the wound, until it stopped working altogether. Pain thrummed low in his stomach as he looked into Raziel’s blank, glassy eyes.

He was gone.

He cradled Raziel’s face into his shoulder, uncaring of the way Raziel’s blood was coating them both. He couldn’t feel his Angel anywhere, not his heartbeat, his energy, nothing. Conquest’s lungs clenched as his breath solidified in his chest. He buried his nose in Raziel’s hair. Loss was a foreign concept. Anyone he had ever cared about; his brothers, Victory, they always came back. It wasn’t permanent, it was just a matter of waiting.

Conquest didn’t know if Raziel was going to come back.

“This is pathetic, Conquest, even for you,” Uriel said, from behind Conquest. “He was merely an illusion, echoes of the Demon he came from.”

“He is nothing like Abaddon,” Conquest growled hoarsely.

“Of course he wasn’t. That was the point. He was created to be everything Abaddon wasn’t. But you can’t separate a soul like that, and he was the shattered remains left behind.” The Sword of Light was placed on Conquest’s shoulder, kissing his neck. “He should never have existed. Now, stand up.”

Conquest gently placed Raziel on the cloud, his eyes closing briefly as he took shallow, measured breaths to fight through the thickness in his throat. He stood on weak knees and summoned his glaive. The energy it took for that simple action was staggering. He had a large reserve to pull from all on his own, but without his crown it was not infinite and he had reached the end of his limit. He would fight, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

He didn’t care.

He defended himself against Uriel’s attack but his heart wasn’t in it. A part of him wanted the Sword of Light to pierce him, to strike him down. If he resurrected he would be free of this anguish, free of the wound deep inside him. And if he didn’t, he would be free of it all the same.

Uriel broke through his defense and buried a dagger of solid ice into Conquest’s shoulder. The cold spread from the tip, spiraling through Conquest. He shuddered and buckled under the weight as it hit his heart.

Conquest could have pulled it out, could have stopped the spread, but he didn’t.

Uriel did it for him, flinging the dagger away with disgust. “Is this how it ends, Conquest? Giving up, giving in? I was expecting more of a fight from you. I killed the thing you cared for most in this world.” He pushed against Conquest, pressing the sword hard enough against Conquest’s throat that it cleanly sliced the top layer of skin. “ Fight me.”

Conquest’s heart skipped a painful beat, so achingly raw that he felt it in every part of himself. “I won’t, because you want me to. You think I’d ever give you satisfaction? You want to kill me? Go ahead. But I won’t help you feel like you earned it.”

Uriel let out an enraged cry and shoved Conquest hard. Conquest flew backwards, landing in the pool of blood beside Raziel. Uriel buried the sword in Conquest’s stomach, pushing through the cloud until the hilt of it was flush with Conquest’s skin. The pain should have been searing, should have ripped through him.

He felt none of it. The ice in his veins helped numb the worst of it, and the rest of him was beyond physical pain.

“He was a Demon,” Uriel spat. He wrapped a hand around Conquest’s throat and yanked him up so their noses were close together. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing. The monster under your bed that waits for you to sleep so it can devour you whole!”

Uriel gripped the hilt of the Sword of Light and pushed it up toward Conquest’s heart, cutting through bone and muscle to open Conquest all the way to his throat. His blood flowed freely, mingling with Raziel’s. Their blood, as one; it was almost a comforting thought.

Blood dribbled from the corner of Conquest’s mouth as he let out a hollow, flat laugh. “Raziel embodied more of what it means to be humanity’s Warriors than you will ever hope to.”

Uriel snarled and shoved Conquest back onto the cloud so hard that Conquest’s spine snapped, the crack of fractures echoing through his body. The wounds slowly stitched together, the fractures mending, but his Power was waning. Without the crown to hold it together, even his immortal healing was coming slower. Soon, it would stop altogether.

“You want to die to forget, don’t you? I know what you’re doing.” Uriel pulled the Sword of Light from within Conquest and buried it beside his head, the golden glow blinding enough that Conquest was forced to turn his head from it. “You’ll get your wish, Conquest. I’ll even kill you without this, so you resurrect. But you won’t get the relief you seek. You won’t remember your Angel, you won’t know why there’s something in the back of your mind, something you constantly reach for but can never find. You’ll feel like you lost the important part of you, and you won’t even know what it is. You’ll lose him, lose part of your soul and you’ll feel the loss forever and you won’t even know why.” A sword of ice formed in Uriel’s hand and he dug it into Conquest, right where the dagger had been. “That torment will drive you insane, and there will be nothing you can do about it.”

“Speaking from experience?” Conquest said, his voice ragged and drawn out. The cold in his lungs was slowly freezing him from the inside, and his breath was now forming puffs of ice-cold air.

“No, Conquest. Your Angel wasn’t the only broken creature in the Heavens. I remember everything I’ve ever lost.”

Conquest’s brows furrowed. That wasn’t possible. Everything but your Divine Purpose was lost when you resurrected. Anyone or anything that wasn’t connected to that purpose would be lost. Conquest would remember his brethren, he would remember Diablo, God and the Archangels. And no-one else.

“And you’ll wish you did too, when you can’t make the aching inside go away, with no memory of why it’s even there.” Uriel clenched his hand into a fist and punched through Conquest’s chest. He pulled out Conquest’s still-beating heart. It wouldn’t kill him; they didn’t rely on their organs in the same way that mortals did. He would continue to suffocate, his body trying to pump blood into an area that was no longer there, until he healed or until there wasn’t enough left to heal.

If Uriel wanted to draw it out, wanted to make Conquest hurt, Conquest didn’t care. He could be patient and Uriel wasn’t known for it; this would end sooner rather than later. And the memory of his Angel lying in his own blood, his beautiful blue eyes going vacant, the feel of his smooth skin, the sweetness of his kisses, it would all fade. And it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Conquest reached out a hand and grasped Raziel’s lifeless one. He threaded their fingers together as he closed his eyes and waited for Uriel to finish it.

Eternity together would have been nice.