“It’s ’cause he’s so big, you idiots,” I said. “He’s like a tank. And look at all this mud. He has to have permanent four-wheel drive.”
I shut myself up, because I was only making it worse. Riot and I had to just wait it out. But I didn’t really care. I knew we were the best.
When everyone settled down, the rest of the guys mounted up, too. Shadow materialized at Bastian’s feet, and came up with him. Through him. I watched as whirling darkness spun around his legs, then moved higher, covering his body. Bas disappeared for a second, consumed by those black ribbons, then there he was, mounted on Shadow, also in armor. Horse and rider, black from hoof to hood.
I’d seen Bas fold into Shadow a few times by then. The other guys, too. They’d also been working with their mounts every day. While Riot and I were jogging, I’d seen them riding along the banks, or in elemental form. Slashes of darkness and light, zipping through the fjords. Or in Marcus’s case, a streak of pale dust. I knew Riot and I would be able to do that as well. That at some point, I’d fold into fire with him. I couldn’t wait for that. We were a little behind, but we’d get it.
Jode’s transition was faster, happening almost instantly—a flash of brightness, then he was mounted on Lucent. Much more than Sebastian, Jode had the Hollywood look, with the white horse and the lighter-colored armor. He was the only one of us who actually resembled a good guy.
Marcus summoned Ruin last. I watched swirls of ash overtake him, watched him disappear in a pale flurry, and then re-form on Ruin’s back. He had his suit’s dark hood pulled up as he settled back into shape, casting part of his face in shadow, but it didn’t hide his smile.
Daryn stepped back, getting a little distance. “You guys look scary,” she said.
But we all knew she meant scary good.
I looked around me. It was our first time that way, the four of us mounted up.
Red, white, black, and pale.
A bona fide posse.
CHAPTER 51
“Sounds impressive,” Cordero says, dryly. “I wish I could’ve seen you that way.”
You have, I think. You have.
“And your relationship with Riot sounds really touching.”
As I watch her, I can’t help but wonder. Does she have any idea how much I didn’t say just now? Can she tell?
My relationship with Riot isn’t touching.
Riot changed me.
I told him things I’ve never said to anyone.
I told him about my dad.
I remember it—walking along the river’s edge one afternoon, his reflection flickering in the water. Me, talking. Putting everything I’d been carrying around for a year into words. All the anger I felt for sitting in a truck doing nothing, when I could’ve been saving my dad’s life.
I’d lost it. I’d sat down on the gravel and cried like a baby.
Everything became clear to me in that moment. How my anger had actually been guilt. How my guilt had actually been a crutch. How that crutch was what I’d been using to avoid the pain. I felt the pain that afternoon. My heart broke on that riverbank. It felt so broken, I thought it was going to kill me. But then I’d felt hot horse breath on my forehead, and when I’d looked up, there he was. Riot. Looking at me like, I’m still right here. Get up. Let’s keep going.
And we did keep going. I did. I have.
Because of him.
My horse.
I never expected it.
That Riot would give me what I needed to let go. To move on.
But he did.
“I’m curious.” Cordero sits back in her chair and studies me. “How does it feel to become fire?”
“Indescribable.”
Cordero rubs her knuckles, and then taps her fingers on the desk. “Some people might call that a cop-out, Gideon.”
“You’re asking me what it’s like to transform into something else?”
Black eyes hold on mine.
I instantly regret opening my mouth. I’m strapped down. Defenseless.
I glance at the door.
Where the hell is Beretta? It’s been at least half an hour since he left.
Cordero notices. “He has been gone a while, hasn’t he? Maybe he got tied up.”
Cordero stands and rounds the desk, coming toward me.
“Ma’am,” Texas says, “I don’t think—”
“It’s fine,” she says, cutting him off. “I want to take a look at something.”
Cordero’s smart, approaching from my right. Steering clear of any chance I have with my sword.
Texas’s hand drifts toward his sidearm.
“I wanted to see this up close.” Cordero kneels beside me—but it’s Malaphar’s stench that invades my nose. She places her hand on my arm, and my muscles jump. A sick feeling climbs my throat. “Are your abilities linked to this?”
I can’t even answer.
“Let’s try another question,” Cordero says. “You’ve said you can sense the other riders through this, like you’re pieces of a whole. Can you sense them now?”
All I hear is Daryn’s voice.
With the four of you together, they’ll be able to track us faster.
The Kindred are attracted to its power.
I see Alevar on the streets outside the Vatican, pointing at the radio in my hand.
Not at the radio.
At my wrist.