It was a matter of course that the simple statement summoned a bitter end.

  It started with a dull roar, a low and grumbling disruption—like a distant thunderclap that wouldn’t end. We all looked at one another, realization biting us all differently, but our conclusions were the same.

  “We need to leave,” I said to Rosa.

  Even as the words left my lips, Godshalk rose. He came at me like a one man swarm of bees, and I hadn’t expected it. Barely had a moment to process what was happening. His eyes were black orbs, and dark veins spread outward around them like coal-dusted webs. And despite the size-difference, I felt overbore by the man.

  Problem was, I didn’t wanna hurt him. He’d done nothing wrong. I’d brought this hell upon him.

  Ice crystals formed first on the frames of his glasses. Then came a crackling all around us, the mirror itself becoming a sheet of it. This all happened in the breath span it took for his hands to grasp the lapels of my duster. His pale hands gripped me like little pink animals, and he stared at me with those soulless eyes.

  “You cannot run.” Chekoketh’s ethereal voice permeated the room. “There is nowhere to hide that I cannot find you.”

  Rosa made a move, but I stopped her.

  “No!” I shouted the word with such force, it was almost as if I possessed her power of persuasion.

  She glared at me like I was dense.

  “This is between you and me, demon,” I growled.

  As I pulled away, I heard metal clatter. Instantly, I registered my grave miscalculation. Judas’ cross had come free, having also been gripped by squeezing fists.

  “Crowley!” a new voice boomed, drowning out all other sound.

  I spun, and my elbow connected with Godshalk’s chin. The force of it sent him soaring backward into his bookshelves. A hundred books clattered down upon him, and he didn’t move.

  At the moment, I had little care for his wellbeing. You go digging into the supernatural, you can’t go crying when it finally catches up. That’s the thing about powers that aren’t meant to be. They’re mostly only good for death.

  When I fully turned, Shargrafein’s swirly aura filled the mirror, fulfilling all my fears.

  “Crowley! You ungrateful, lying, conniving wretch!” Her aura materialized, and as she extended a hand, mist lashed out from the mirror and caught my throat like a lasso, heaving me into the air.

  “James!” Rosa shrieked. She grabbed at my leg in a vain attempt to pull me down.

  “I will silence your very soul!” Shar thundered. The room quaked with her, and not just in my head. Her anger, or that of Hell, was causing an earthquake. Rosa slipped free of me and followed Godshalk’s trajectory, bashing into a bookcase.

  Godshalk somehow pulled himself out from under the rubble of books.

  “Shake the Earth over this ancient hellmouth and see what fate befalls you, Shargrafein!” Chekoketh shouted through Godshalk’s lips. “She is not to be harmed!”

  Of course. The damn doctor, stolen by an inclination to study and examine Hellish entities, had seated himself over a sealed hellmouth. Made almost too much sense, especially with the sudden onslaught of Hell’s minions on the train the moment we neared this settlement. No wonder he hadn’t moved to greener pastures.

  “Then I suggest you back off,” Shar replied.

  “They are mine!” Chekoketh roared.

  He—meaning Godshalk—climbed a fallen chair like a mongoose and leaped. His hands found purchase on my ankles, and the weight of him ripped me out of the air. An agent of Heaven and a scion of Hell, yanking on me like a couple of oiled-up Greeks in Olympic tug-o-war.

  “All things are ours,” Shar replied.

  “The deal is not yet done.”

  “Then let it be so now!”

  As they bickered like an old married couple—old might be an understatement with their kind—Rosa used a simpler ability than she’d been relying on recently. She fired a bullet straight through the mirror.

  Shar’s form evaporated with violent energy, sending splinters and mirror shards spraying like a thousand shotgun blasts.

  I kicked Godshalk away and threw myself over Rosa. I didn’t feel a bit of it, but just like those locusts, I knew if she was left exposed, she’d need more of Godshalk’s balm, and considering his current state, getting any more would be tough.

  “We’ve gotta go!” I shouted as soon as the air was clear of murderous fragments.

  My eyes tore around the room until I spotted it. Then, I scooped up my inverted crucifix necklace that had snapped off during my struggle with the doc. As we ran, I jerked a knot around the chain and gave it a tug to ensure it wouldn’t so easily come free again.

  That deep, dull growl had become a more immediate problem, now roaring with intensity. In an instant, wind whipped through the old greystone house, sending wood and bricks upward into a funnel cloud.

  Grabbing Rosa by the arm, we bolted through a door on the opposite end of the room. With a swathe of roof torn off the building, the once serene and clear sky now churned with ominous, blood-red clouds, foretelling the arrival of an unruly guest. This wasn’t just some random tornado. I had no doubt Calamity, riding on a blood-red steed, wouldn’t be far behind.

  Or was it Shar’s doing? What deal had she meant?

  The building groaned and swayed, its foundations tested by the tempest’s grip. Glass shattered as more roof peeled away. With each passing moment, the tornado—and surely, its master—drew nearer.

  When we reached the next room, the walls blew outward. A gust lashed through the building and debris spiraled through the air like a chaotic ballet. A chunk of something—a table perhaps—smacked into Rosa’s side and knocked her away from me. She landed across the room, grunting as she raised her hands, and a flash of energy deflected another projectile.

  They were playing a dangerous game. With what I’d seen, if pushed, she could cause more damage than any of these horsemen. But a large measure of roof, beams and all, fell from straight above her without her seeing.

  “Rosa!” All I could do was reach out for her. At the last possible moment, the possessed doctor bounded beside her with arms raised. Strengthened by the possession, he staved off the collapse, keeping it from crushing her, though he wouldn’t hold for long.

  “You will be mine!” Chekoketh proclaimed through Godshalk’s bloody lips, explaining why he’d saved her. “Untainted. Pure as Death itself.”

  I reached in and pulled Rosa free. As I did, I whispered a kind goodbye before putting silver through the doc’s head and ending his misery.

  “NO!” Rosa yelped, but it was too late. Another man was dead thanks to us.

  More of the structure came down, choking us in dust. It also opened a way for us to be clear of the interior confines of Godshalk’s practice. We exchanged a look and took off, running becoming all too familiar in the face of beings which couldn’t be destroyed.

  We emerged onto the streets, sprinting through a throng of panicked pedestrians. The wind funnel tossed everything in its path aside like so much refuse. A wagon, complete with horses, was hurled in front of us, crushing a family running by. I shouldered into the canvas covering and tore through to the other side. Rosa arrived to help me as I sprawled through.

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  She was huffing. I wasn’t.

  A resounding boom sent a shockwave that blew over townsfolk. I glanced back at the wave of wind and dust caused from the entire block where the doc’s office collapsed. Amidst a towering funnel of darkness, Calamity sat on horseback, eyes glowing, a sanguine vortex against blackness. Snow and sleet swirled all around to obscure it all.

  “We’ve gotta get clear of the town!” I yelled.

  Rosa’s fists clenched. I couldn’t see the energy this time, but it was as if they were vacillating. Chaos personified. Calamity’s storm raged just over her shoulders, ripping up the street as it neared.

  “Or we kill it,” she growled. “Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Nothing like this.”

  “Then what good are you!” Her voice echoed and she stomped her foot. Waves of violent energy rippled out, inverting the direction of the tornado. It blinded us from Calamity and he from us as all the debris, wreckage, and, as terrible as it was to admit, lifeless bodies, were caught inside the trapped storm.

  “Rosa!” I gave her arm a tug, and she reeled around, shoving me so hard, I slid clear across the avenue and smashed against brick with enough force to even make my old immortal ass see stars. Maybe I was dizzy too, but with all the wind and raging storm, it was hard to tell.

  Next thing I knew, she had me by the shoulders. “James, are you okay?”

  I groaned, “Never better.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t apologize for being you.”

  She hoisted me up with surprising ease and dusted me off.

  “I don’t know how long that will hold,” Rosa said.

  I peered over her shoulders at the inverted storm terrorizing the majority of Golden River. Deep red emanated from within it. Calamity would be released upon us soon, and all this destruction would be lost in the annals of what remained of the town. An accident, they’d call it. An act of God.

  How unintentionally correct they’d be.

  “Then we’d better get a move on,” I said. “You heard Chekoketh. This whole settlement was built by a damn hellmouth. We can’t stay.”

  We hurried off in the opposite direction. Rosa stayed close by my side.

  “I thought I was going to erupt again,” Rosa said as we moved. “I managed to push it down. It was like choking.”

  “Do you remember how?”

  “I thought of Mamá’s smile… The day I married Willy… the day you—”

  We cleared an alley, and a horse neighed as it veered to avoid us. Its carriage struck a curb and capsized, throwing the driver out onto the street.

  I yanked Rosa the opposite direction. “Good. Hold on to that!”

  Roads and farmland weaved us through. The small, local police force struggled to get a hold of things. People were trampling each other to get out. Children screamed, separated from their parents.

  It wasn’t as clear a wake of death as we’d caused on the train, but it was obvious to me. When Calamity ceased, there’d be dozens of bodies left to be buried alongside Godshalk. I’d let Rosa focus on the positives, however. I owed her that.

  When we emerged through the huddle of buildings, I spotted a homestead in the distance, and on its grounds, a stable.

  “Over there!” I pointed, and Rosa saw it too.

  Once again, I dared to look back.

  Wind and sleet continued to whirl violently across the town square and heading east like us—after us—all painted a wrathful hue of red. Screams carried through the air. God-fearing terror abounded. While we had a good head start, if we didn’t find a ride soon, he’d be on us like flies to shit.

  We crossed a field filled with knee-high brush. The sounds Rosa made told me they were covered in little stickers or thorns I couldn’t feel.

  “Almost there,” I said.

  “Worry about yourself, James.” It was a bit playful, but I knew she also meant it.

  A fence was now all that separated us from the ranch. I cleared it in a single bound, stopping only to make sure Rosa didn’t need a hand. She didn’t. We were off running again, hastily crossing dirt to the stable.

  Behind us, the storm pounded away. Five thin funnels now expanded over the rooftops like inquisitive fingers, ripping off thatch and roof tile alike. I’d been doing the Black Badge thing for a while, and it was rare for either side of this war to act with such wanton disregard for the mortal realm.

  It wasn’t that they cared about us lowly humans, no. That much was clear. But part of their power was their mystery. This was as if Shar and Chekoketh’s little argument had extended into the material world itself. And that was far more frightening than the damage. All this over Rosa, whatever she was.

  “Inside,” I said, as if it weren’t obvious.

  I slammed through the door, and we made haste to the first horses that looked like they could handle a good jaunt.

  “Mine,” Rosa said, preparing a black mare with saddle.

  Whether by design or subconscious longing, I found myself prepping a tawny that resembled my old girl, Timp. He’d be no replacement, but he’d carry me where we needed to go.

  Then I heard a click.

  I pulled my Peacemakers and whipped around in one smooth motion. A shotgun blast tore through my side and sent me swaying. Rosa yelled my name and sprang to action, drawing her own revolver. Right before she shot, I lunged, gripped her wrist, and caused her to send a bullet spiraling harmlessly into the ceiling.

  Before she could say a word, I watched her gaze freeze upon what I too had noticed. My assailant was no vagrant or Nephilim, but a young boy without even a sprout of hair yet on his chest.

  “G-g-get away from ’em,” his tiny voice trembled. Seemed even he was as shocked by shooting me as I was being shot.

  “No can do, kid,” I said, stretching my back, and rose to my full height, unharmed. His eyes flitted to the gaping wound in my side, then to face me.

  “I’m warnin’ you!” He cocked the gun again.

  I stalked toward him until the barrel pressed against my scarred chest. The first shot is always easy. Adrenaline and fear basically pull the trigger. But the second, once you have your wits about you to consciously put a man in the grave—not all boys are built for that.

  The gun rattled in his hands as I slowly grabbed it and shifted his aim. I went to pull the gun free, but he clung on.

  “Life is precious, kid,” I said. “Don’t throw yours away.”

  His grip let up and I tore the gun free, emptied the chamber, and tossed it into the hay. He didn’t move, simply stood, gawking at me, the front of his pants wet. What a sight I must’ve been for kid in these parts. A true outlaw of the Wild West. As much a legend here as werewolves and the boogeyman.

  “Your parents should be proud.” I gave him a pat on the cheek, then shoved him toward the exit. He stumbled once, caught himself, then bolted through the door.

  “He’s lucky he shot me first.” I chuckled. “You might’ve turned him into a puddle.”

  Mounting the horse, I checked back on Rosa, expecting at least a titter. Wrong crowd. She remained, staring awestruck at her gun and what had almost been done with it.

  “He’s fine, Rosa,” I said. “C’mon.”

  “I would have killed him,” she said softly.

  “He shot first.”

  “He’s a kid!”

  “No one’s a kid once they’ve got iron in their hand. And there’s no ‘I’ here. We’re a crew. What one of us does, we all do. Took me far too long to learn that with Ace.”

  “People keep dying. That poor doctor. He didn’t–”

  “You think that’ll change if they get their hands on you and make you a weapon?”

  She sighed and finally holstered her pistol.

  “Who’s they? Heaven or Hell?” she asked as she pulled herself up onto her new steed.

  “I’m still figuring that out.”

  I gave my horse a kick before she could risk dwelling on things any longer. She followed suit, and we tore through the stable threshold with the fury of a hornets’ nest.

  Calamity neared the edge of Golden River now, the tendrils of storm prodding into the darkness. Though it seemed weaker, as if the Horseman had exhausted himself in his search for us.

  Fleeing Calamity was a not-so-gentle reminder of two things.

  One, for years—decades—I’d been warned by Shar about forces of darkness capable of dragging me to Lucifer’s domain. Unless I was ignorant of past adversaries, these Horsemen were my first time experiencing true fear of such a threat.

  And two, until recently, I’d never run from a fight in my goddamned life. Not really. Sure, I might’ve retreated temporarily, but always with the intention of regrouping and returning to kick Hell’s proverbial ass.

  So, with Rosa by my side—a mortal, even if she was something more than your typical human—I was reminded of the very reason I’d rode alone for so long. It was one thing to ensure I stayed on this side of oblivion, but it was another altogether to be responsible for someone else.

  Might as well admit that Irish was right back in Crescent City to imply there was something special between me and Rosa. Didn’t mean it was romantic. Didn’t mean I was delusional enough to think we could settle down together and make a life. Didn’t mean I was gonna act on those sentiments.

  But I did care for her, deeply.

  And if something happened to her on my watch, I might as well succumb to eternal damnation right there and then. That’s exactly why Shar always cautioned me about building relationships. She was an asshole, though she wasn’t wrong. She’d spent Heaven-knows-how-long living the life of an immortal. She knew a thing or two about hitching to a wagon destined for doom.

  Thus lay my problem. How long could we flee such power? Ace and his followers. Shar the ever-altruistic angel. The trickster demon and his apocalyptic Horsemen.

  “Death,” Rosa said gravely as our horses galloped for a tree line.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The doctor read about four horsemen… Death is coming.”

  I chewed on my lip. “Let it, then. I’ve been telling death to fuck off for more years than I can count.” A mouthful of bluster I couldn’t back up, though luckily, Rosa didn’t push further. For a long time, I thought I wasn’t afraid of death. That I’d embraced it, even in the context of my undead state. Being wary of emptiness or eternal damnation isn’t cowardly. It’s using your damn brain.

  “How far to the capital on horseback?” Rosa asked.

  I shrugged. “A few days, maybe? A week? Being honest, that tree line will be the furthest east I’ve ever gone.”

  “We ride alone, then!” she shouted as our horses charged into the unknown.

  “I don’t plan on picking up any dead weight.”

  “I mean it. No towns, no stops. I won’t put any more people at risk until we’re there.”

  “Mighty hard to get your beauty sleep on the forest floor.”

  She offered me a pittance laugh. “Oh, and when’s the last time you had to live off the land, James Crowley? Mister can’t eat or drink.”

  “Rub it in, why don’t you.”

  “I learned well how to survive. We’ll do it mi mamá’s way. Maybe if we stay out of sight, all our enemies will lose sight of us as well.”

  “Out of sight, out of mind, huh?”

  “Why not?” she asked as we skirted around a deep ditch.

  “Things are rarely so simple with our friends above and below.”

  “It’s worth trying, right? I don’t want to keep killing—”

  “I’m with you, Rosa. For good or bad.”

  And we left Calamity in our dust.