Sin Undone

The boys grew into men, never suspecting the truth about their origins. At least, not until demons rose up, spreading terror and seeking to use Lilith’s sons against the humans. Limos escaped from Sheoul, found her brothers, and told them the truth in that gossipy way females often do.

By this time, the brothers had seen their lands and families destroyed by demons and, blinded by hatred and the need for revenge, Lilith’s children encouraged (manipulatively and forcibly, sometimes) humans to help them fight violent, never-ending battles against the underworld abominations.

This didn’t go over well in the heavenly realm. Zachariel, an Angel of the Apocalypse, led a legion of angels to Earth, where they met in battle with demon hordes. When the earth and waters ran red with blood, and humans could no longer survive on the poisoned land, Zachariel struck a deal with the devil.

Yes, that devil. Lilith’s children were to be punished for slinging mankind to the brink of doom in their selfish bid for revenge. Because they had nearly brought about the end of days, they were charged to be the keepers of Armageddon. Defenders or instigators, the choice would fall on their shoulders.

Each was given a Seal, and with each Seal came two prophecies. Should they protect their Seals from breaking until the prophecy laid out by the Bible came to pass, they would save their souls— and mankind.

But should they allow the Seals to be broken prematurely, as written in the Daemonica, the demon bible, they would turn evil and would forever be known by the names Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death.

And so were born The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Mmm… I love that story. Doesn’t it give you shivers when you hear it?”

Ares, seated at the bar of an underworld pub, tried to ignore the female behind him, but the rub of her breasts against his back and the slide of her dainty hands from his waist to his inner thighs wasn’t easy to tune out. Her heat burned right through his hard leather armor.

“Yeah. Shivers.” Some idiot read aloud the prophecy off the plaque that hung on the wall between two skulls every time Ares was in here… which was often. The tavern, kept in business mainly by Ares and his siblings, was his second home, was even known as The Four Horsemen, and for the most part, male demons melted into the background or scurried out the back door when Ares arrived. Wise. Ares despised demons, and that, combined with his love of a good fight, led to… bad things… for hell’s minions.

But the opposite sex was a little braver—or maybe hornier. Female demons, shifters, weres, and vamps hung out twenty-four-seven in hopes of getting their hands, paws, or hooves on Ares and his brothers. Hell, Ares couldn’t swing his dick without hitting someone out to get him. Usually he was a little more receptive to drinking, gambling, and general mischief, but something wasn’t sitting right today. He was on edge. Twitchy.

He was never like that.

He was even in danger of losing the chess game he was playing with the pudgy pink Oni bartender, and Ares hadn’t lost any game of strategy in… well, ever.

“Oh, War.” The female Sora demon ran her tongue along the top of his ear. “You’ve got to know it makes us hot.” “My name,” he gritted out, “is Ares. You don’t want to be around on the day I become War.” He moved his rook, tossed back half his ale, and was about to signal for another when the female’s hand dropped between his legs.

“I still like War better.” Her voice was a seductive trill, her fingers nimble as they sought the opening at his groin. “And Pestilence… such a sexy name.” Only a demon would think “Pestilence” was a turn-on. Ares peeled her red hand away. She was one of Reseph’s regular bedmates, one of hundreds of Horsemen groupies who called themselves Megiddo Mount-me’s. They even subclassed themselves according to who their favorite Horseman was; Ares’s groupies liked to be called Mongers. War Mongers.

The bartender made a foolish move with his knight, and Ares hid a smile in his mug. “Reseph should be here any minute,” he told the Sora, and her lips curved against his skin on the back of his neck.