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In the flash of a nanosecond, Thorn was covered in scaly armor that had spikes protruding from his shoulders and elbows. He glanced at Nick. “You’ve no real powers, do you?”

“Oh contraire, mon frère. I’m able to annoy all adults in ten syllables or less. Sometimes, I don’t even have to speak at all. I just walk into the room and it rankles them.”

“I can see that,” Thorn said drily.

Nick tensed as armor appeared on his body, too. “What’s this?”

“In the event they get past me and Asmodeus, who is going to fight with me or find himself disemboweled at my feet, let’s hope that keeps them from dragging you off to somewhere you don’t want to go.”

Before Nick could ask him to elaborate, the door burst open.

Thorn let fly a ball of fire into the chest of a tall, black blob. Asmodeus moved to stand in front of Nick and behind Thorn.

Asmodeus flashed a grin at Nick over his shoulder. “Let’s hope they don’t make it through the big guy, huh?”

“Where’s Adarian?” the blob hissed.

With both of his hands on fire, literally, Thorn stood at the ready, but he didn’t launch his fire at the beast. “You missed him.”

“I smell him. He’s here.”

Thorn’s hands flared brighter. “Do you see him anywhere? Now get out before I decide to answer this attack with one of my own.”

“I smell him,” it insisted. It sniffed the air like a bloodhound. Then it froze and turned its black eyes to Nick. “It’s you!” As he started to rush forward, he burst into flames.

Shrieking, it hit the ground and became a dark stain at Thorn’s feet.

By the look on Thorn’s face and the way he immediately went into warrior death match stance with both hands throbbing fire, it was obvious he wasn’t the one who’d caused the demon’s spontaneous combustion.

Out of the burning remains of the demon rose a glistening, translucent shadow. It grew larger and turned denser until it formed the shape of a man. Muscular and fierce, he had dark brown dreadlocks. His locks were shorter than Wren’s, and much more attractive—probably because, unlike Wren, he wasn’t completely antisocial. He actually styled his locks. And his goatee was every bit as perfect. He had sharp, angular features, most of which were covered by a pair of opaque black aviator sunglasses. Dressed all in black, he was even more frightening than the demon he’d killed.

But the oddest part about his appearance was what flashed through Nick’s mind when he looked at the newcomer. He saw him on a black horse in greenish-silver armor that flickered like a living creature. The man held a blood-soaked banner as he gleefully spread out his arm and sent misery to everyone, everywhere he rode.

What the.…

“Bane,” Thorn said in greeting, relaxing only a tiny degree. And as he did so, the fire on his hands turned down to a low, simmering flame. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Bane wiped his biker boots on the smoldering remains of the demon he’d killed. “I smelled a Fringe Guard and wondered what he was doing here, since this is not their domain.” He turned his head in Nick’s direction and quirked a sinister smile. “Now, I understand completely. So this is the baby Malachai Grim’s been teaching. Interesting…”

Nick looked to Thorn to see if this was friend or foe. From Thorn’s reaction-

He could tell absolutely nothing.

Until the fire on his hands finally went out. He gestured from Bane to Nick. “Nick, meet Bane.”

Interesting name. “Bane?” Nick asked. “What? Did your parents not like you?”

Bane let out an evil laugh. “Not really. But that’s all right. It meant that I didn’t have to worry about mourning them after I killed them.”

There technically wasn’t anything threatening in that, and yet …

Bane was not someone you wanted to meet late at night. Especially not when you were alone.

And unarmed.

Take that back, Nick wouldn’t want to meet him in a full suit of Kevlar wrapped in C-4 with a grenade launcher over his shoulder. Even with all that protection on your body, Bane would still be terrifying.

Asmodeus vanished from in front of him, only to reappear by Nick’s side so that he could whisper in his ear. “Bane is a good friend of Grim’s.”

Nick hesitated as his earlier vision of Bane and this latest tidbit came together and forced a realization on him that he didn’t want to have.

No. It wasn’t possible.

Was it?

Nick cleared his throat. “For the record, you’re not…”

A slow, taunting smile curved the right side of Bane’s mouth. “One of the Four Riders of the Apocalypse? Yes, Nick, I am.”

Stunned to the core of his being, Nick could barely accept that. Strange, right? He could handle his boss being an ancient Greek general. Acheron being an eleven-thousand-year-old whatever, and all the rest of the paranormal crap he stewed in.

But this …

It seemed truly impossible. After all you’ve been through, you’re really going to doubt this?

Yeah, he’d seen that episode of X-Files a few times too many, and while he wanted to deny Bane’s words all day long and into the next millennia, he couldn’t.

Scarily enough, it all made sense.

Nick raked a curious frown over Bane. From the tip of his biker boots to the top of his dreads. Aside from the obvious Faith No More wardrobe rip-off … “You look so … normal. Man, would my priest be disappointed.” Father Jeffrey expected the Riders in flowing robes like they had been depicted in some of the Tarot decks Nick had seen the psychics using outside the Cathedral in Jackson Square.

Bane wasn’t amused. “I now understand Grim’s need to pull the heart out of you. And here I just thought it was Grim. Nope. You really are that annoying.”

Nick arched a brow. “And this explains what Grim meant when he said anytime he got together with his friends, it didn’t go so well for humanity. You guys are … bad for crops.”

Bane took it in stride and returned with a counter. “The same could be said for you and your friends.”

Maybe.

Well, then again, whenever Bubba and Mark got together, it did tend to go nuclear. As much as he hated admitting it, Pestilence had a point.

Thorn returned to wearing his posh navy suit. “So Bane, why are you here?”

“Same reason everyone will be converging on you soon, and it’s not for your gory hospitality. The Malachai is back in Azmodea. People tend to notice.”

Thorn welcomed that news as much as Nick did. “We’ve got to shield him.”

Bane snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Thorn crossed his arms over his chest. “No, not luck, Bane. We’re going to shield him.”

Bane shook his head in denial. “That’s not my agenda.”

“Is today, buddy,” Thorn said with a wry grin, “unless you’re tired of breathing. I do know a few people who’d be willing to replace you on the cosmic food chain.”

Bane let out a long suffering sigh. “I don’t understand you. Why are you fighting for the worms?”

Thorn shrugged. “Because some of us believe in doing the right thing even when we shouldn’t. And you’re going to do the right thing where Nick is concerned because I have your number, and I’m not afraid to dial it.”

Bane’s eyes glowed a wicked, fluorescent green. “I hate you, Thorn.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Bane. Now, man the perimeter and shield the Malachai.”

Grumbling, Bane stepped over the still smoldering remains of the demon. “You owe me, Leucious.”

“Pestilence, Pestilence, Pestilence … I’ve already paid you back. You’re walking out my door. And in one piece, no less. Will my mercy ever have limitations?”