Riders (Riders, #1)

CHAPTER 26

In my training in the Army, I’d been exposed to a variety of weapons. Rifles. Handguns of all makes and models. RPG launchers. I’d shot a fifty-cal a few times—now, that’s a weapon. The fifty’s legit. So I think you can understand, Cordero, when I say that a sword was a little disappointing.

Sword fighting was fine in the movies, for gladiators or fighting trolls or whatever. But actually using a sword in combat? Nope. It felt tardy by a couple of centuries. Of course I’d just been in an epic fistfight, but everyone knows fisticuffs is a timeless art. Point is I wasn’t thrilled about the sword, but it was better than no sword, so I rolled with it.

In about a millisecond, I assessed the weapon in my hand. It was made of the same metal as my cuff—smooth, putting off the red halo of light—and the style was a mix of modern and old, a sort of a sleek claymore. Kind of cool-looking.

The fear-hold Marcus had over me had fallen away completely by then. Same for Daryn, who had stopped rocking. Bastian helped her to her feet. Seeing that she was okay, I turned my focus to making Marcus pay.

I stepped toward him, doing a badass figure eight in front of me, which I’d perfected with a lightsaber when I was seven and thankfully could still do. Part of me wanted to psych him out a little. The other part of me wanted to get a feel for the weapon. The sword wasn’t weightless, exactly. It was just weight that felt known, like lifting my arm or my leg. Even stranger was that it didn’t feel like I was gripping the sword, but more like the sword was gripping me.

“You want to mess with me, Death?” I said. “Let’s go!”

Daryn looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Gideon, what are you doing?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer. Marcus had just produced a scythe. It materialized in a dusty swirl, extending from his hand to the desert earth.

A freakin’ scythe.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Wasn’t Death—the Grim Reaper—always shown with a scythe? Still, this was the first one I’d ever seen in person and let me tell you—a staff with a massive curved blade at the end? Terrifying. This was no ordinary scythe, either. The thing glowed in the night, soft like the moon, but it put off enough light to illuminate Marcus’s face. His eyes were steady and cold. Pure glacial fury. All for me.

He extended his arm to the side like Looky here, asshole. I’ll see your sword and raise you a scythe.

A cautious man would’ve backed off. Not me. Yielding would basically have told him he’d won. I was tougher and I’d prove it. If it cost me a limb, screw it.

“You really want to take on War?” I shrugged. “All right.”

“What did you say? You’re War?”

“Yes, he did.” Daryn said. “Now put your weapons down. Both of you.”

With no warning, Marcus swung the scythe in a low, sweeping arc. The thing had range, clearing eight, nine feet around him. The blade came to within about a foot of Daryn. She stood without even flinching as the sickle sliced past her, but I practically threw up my heart. I was moving before I knew it.

I shot at him while he was still on the backswing, avoiding the business end of the weapon. The scythe wouldn’t be a close-range weapon. If I could get inside, I’d be safe from the blade.

Marcus had anticipated my move, and brought the back end of the staff at me. I saw it coming and blocked with my sword. The sound as the two weapons met was deep. Thundering. A roar I felt in my chest. The collision point sent off sparks, a burst of brightness in the dark. We kept going, dealing and receiving blows. Neither of us was very good then, at that point, but what we lacked in technique we made up for in passion.

I was in the middle of a follow-through when the strength left my legs suddenly. Wham. Fast. One second I was getting ready to tee off on Marcus’s face, the next I was on my back staring at the thunderheads above. My sword thudded out of my grip. I hadn’t even known I could let it go.

I turned my head to look for it. That small action took all the energy I had. The sword rested on the desert soil only a few inches from my fingers. I wanted it back, but I was never going to be able to reach it. I had nothing left. Lifting a car over my head would’ve been easier. Straining to look to my right, I got a glimpse of Marcus’s shoes. He was sprawled on the dirt next to me.

Daryn walked up with Sebastian. She crossed her arms, looking down at me, her blond hair blowing in the storm winds. Her expression was disappointed and more than a little pissed off. “How long will they be this way?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian said. “Maybe a few hours? It could be longer. It’s the first time I’ve wiped anyone out this strongly. This is awful. I can’t believe I did this.”

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