Riders (Riders, #1)

“Yeah. I have a lot of questions, like”—he tipped his chin at Daryn—“how does she fit into this?”


“She’s, um. Well, I don’t know a lot.” I wanted to know more about her. More and more I wanted to know more. “But she calls herself a Seeker. She’s in charge.”

“That’s what it seems like.”

I looked at him. He looked at me. It didn’t seem like he’d meant it as a put-down. I rubbed my eyes and drove.

“She seems cool.” He paused like he was waiting for me to weigh in on Daryn’s coolness. When I didn’t, he said, “You’re never going to believe this.”

“Try me.”

“When you tackled me earlier—to save my life, so I’m not mad, I know you didn’t mean to do it, I’m just saying—I scraped my elbow when I hit the asphalt. But get this. It’s healing!” He tugged his sleeve up. “It’s almost completely healed!”

I glanced at the pink stamp on his elbow. “That hasn’t happened to you yet? The fast-healing thing?”

“Has it happened to you?”

“Uh-huh.” Finally. I knew something someone didn’t.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. Whoa.”

Bastian lowered his arm. “Did you die, then come back with the cuff?”

“Yep. Died and came back.”

“Trippy, right?”

“Total trip.”

I wanted to know how he’d died, but it wasn’t the kind of question you just asked.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Man, it is such a relief not to be the only one. I thought I was losing my mind! Sorry about running back there. At Herald Casting? When you first showed up, I didn’t expect it. I think I was in denial or something. So what exactly is our job?”

The guy was kind of animated and … I don’t know. Upbeat. He reminded me of a Great Dane puppy. But I liked him. Any guy who offers to run lines with you for a bogus audition because you lost a fake contact lens is cool in my book, so I told him what I knew about us being incarnations of the horsemen. That we were supposed to protect something. That was exactly how I put it.

“So we’re bodyguards?”

“Pretty much. Except minus any concrete knowledge of what we’re actually guarding.”

I didn’t mention the chain around Daryn’s neck. Containment of information was critical because of Samrael and his mind-scanning abilities. Which … checking, checking … yes. Confirmed. It did make me a damn hypocrite.

“We can do that, right?” Sebastian said. “We can totally protect the thing. Especially with you being in the Army. What do you think the other guys are going to be like?”

“Don’t know.” I wanted them to be easygoing like Sebastian. But maybe a little tougher. Or a lot.

“You think it’ll be the same with the cuffs?” he asked, looking at his. “This feeling?”

“Probably.” Mystery metal had calmed down. The buzzing I’d felt at the casting office wasn’t as loud but it was still giving me feedback. A constant silent tone, like I’d developed a completely new sense. I was positive Sebastian’s proximity did that. Then I remembered. “Hey. Sebastian. Do you have a power? Like control over people?”

I felt stupid as soon as I said it. Like I was asking if he believed in unicorns. Which weren’t half as weird as our horses.

Bastian nodded. For the first time since I’d known him, his expression went dark. “Yeah, I do. You don’t even want to know about it, man. It’s effed up.” He slid back, disappearing into the backseat, our conversation at a clear end.

I spent the next thirty miles trying to figure out what it could be. Rage seemed to make sense for War, but what about Famine? I was pretty hungry right then. Was he working his power on me? But I couldn’t see how wielding hunger would be an asset. Then again if I got hungry enough I got angry, so … Did we have the same power? Then I remembered his audition. Was acting his power? If so, then I was really glad I wasn’t Famine.

With my Jeep running on fumes, we stopped for gas. I filled the tank, then pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it to Bastian.

“Get us a couple bottles of water and some food, would you? I’m famished.”

Bastian cracked a grin. “That’s my line.”

I left him and went around back to the restrooms, where Daryn had headed. I didn’t want to crowd her so I hung back a little. She didn’t see me as she slipped into the women’s room. About three hours later—okay, it just felt that long—she came back out.

She froze when she saw me. “What are you doing?”

I spread my hands. “I was just … standing here.”

“Seriously?” She twisted her hair over one shoulder, then touched the necklace. I thought I saw her fingers trembling. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes. It’s the middle of the night, Daryn.” This was a truck stop at the edge of the desert. There was nothing around us except great places to dump bodies.

“I can take care of myself.” She shook her head, scowling like I’d insulted her, and walked away.

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