Pestilence (4 page)

The order was clear in Death’s voice. Pest heaved a mental sigh and nodded.

“All right. I guess there’s not much else I can do for Bartholomew right now. Just follow my instructions and I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

The small man shrugged. “I’m here for the duration, Horseman. I’ll do my best, for what it’s worth.”

“Just keep him alive until I get back. After that, if he dies, it’ll be on my soul, not yours.”

Lam snorted, but didn’t seem all that worried about either of their souls.

Pest resisted the urge to place a kiss on Bartholomew’s forehead. Needing to take care of the mortal and ensure Bartholomew was being taken care of while he was gone was strange to Pest, since he’d cut himself off from any kind of tenderness after he’d died. Maybe a scrap of humanity burned in Pestilence still, and that’s why he wanted to heal Bart.

Chapter Two

A muttered curse caught Bart’s attention and he swam up from the fog covering his mind. Opening his eyes, he stared up at a green ceiling. Where was he? It didn’t look anything like the tent he remembered dozing off in. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d say he was lying on the floor of the jungle looking up into the canopy of trees. He started to reach up and feel what sat on his chest because he could barely breathe. Something had to be sitting on him.

“Damn Horseman. One grabs me and appeals to my better nature. The other dumps a sick mortal on me and expects me to keep the man alive until he gets back. Then he leaves without telling me when that might be. I might have to forget my peaceful nature and kick his ass.”

Bart coughed, and almost passed out from the pain. Black spots swirled in his vision, making his head pound even harder. “Shit.”

“Oh, are you awake?”

A small, silver-haired man leaned over Bart. The color of his hair withstanding, Bart couldn’t guess at the man’s age. He gasped and waved a hand at his throat, trying to get air into his lungs, but nothing happened. The man grasped Bart’s hands and met his gaze.

“Look into my eyes and try to match my breathing. You’re trying too hard. Don’t breathe so deep.”

Bart did his best to listen to the stranger. He stared up into those oddly light eyes and willed himself to relax. Taking air into his lungs shouldn’t be this difficult.

“I’ve…been…ill,” he gasped while trying to make sense of everything in his mind. It was the only explanation, but it didn’t explain why he was in bed in a hut totally unfamiliar to him.

“Yes, but don’t worry about that now. Just calm down. You’re still alive, so that’s a good sign. Not out of the woods yet. I can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong with you, but the Horseman only gave me stuff to bring your fever down.” The man spoke slowly and in a low voice, forcing Bart to really focus on his words and not his constricting chest.

“That’s it. Good boy.”

His breathing slowed and his grip on the man’s hands eased as he managed to fill his lungs a little bit more each time. Soon he settled back against the mattress and closed his eyes.

“Here’s some water.”

He allowed the man to slip an arm around his shoulders and help him sit up. After propping him up with pillows, the stranger held a wooden bowl to his lips and Bart sipped some cool water.

Once he’d had enough, he turned his head away and the man set the bowl down. He wandered off toward what looked like a stove and Bart gathered his strength.

“Who are you? Where am I? If this isn’t your place, whose is it?”

“You can call me Lam and you’re in the middle of the Amazon jungle. You seem to have caught something, but I certainly don’t know what kind of virus or bacteria you picked up. Only God knows what exists in this forsaken place.” Lam poured out some liquid into another bowl. “I made some broth for you. I’m not sure about giving you solids yet.”

“Okay. Did you find me? Was I wandering around outside?”

Lam sat on the edge of the mattress and faced Bart. He held out a spoonful of broth, pressing it to Bart’s mouth. Bart sucked it in and wrinkled his nose at the slightly bitter taste.

“No, I didn’t find you. One of the crazy people who live in this area found you and brought you here. I assume you were wandering because he’s not a man who goes looking for contact with the outside world. Do you know how long you wandered before you stumbled into the clearing?” Lam fed him another spoonful. “I don’t really know what this stuff is, but it was marked edible, so I assume it’s okay. You need to build up your strength.”

“I don’t remember. I thought our camp was close to the river since the head of our expedition didn’t want to go too far into the jungle, but it seems like our guides took us farther in than they told us.” He sipped some more broth.

“Hmm…not sure which direction you came in from. I guess it’s no big deal.” Lam’s eyes met his.

Bart’s heart skipped a beat as his mind swirled, the blue of Lam’s eyes surrounding him. Visions of men with wings like angels brandishing swords or golden horns. Lam blinked and the angels disappeared.

“Why are your eyes so light?”

“It’s just a genetic defect.” Lam brushed his questions away.

He had a few more spoonfuls before his energy ran out and he fell asleep.

Bart stared up at a tall man with white hair and pitch black eyes. “Who are you?”

“No one you need to worry about. How are you feeling?” The man reached out and pressed his glove-covered hand to Bart’s forehead. “Your fever is building again.”

“I’m dreaming,” he muttered as he studied the otherworldly beauty of the man sitting next to him on the bed.

“Yes, you are.”

“What’s your name? I saw you in the clearing, didn’t I?”

He frowned at the attraction he felt toward his rescuer. He’d sworn off men after Jasper had left him in the jungle, but obviously his illness had lowered his defenses. Bart shifted his hips away from the man’s, and licked his suddenly dry lips.

“Yes, you did. You may call me Pest.”

Pest’s head jerked up like he’d heard something Bart hadn’t. Heaving a sigh, Pest stood and smiled down at Bart. For some strange reason, Bart wanted to beg Pest not to leave him, but he knew it was a dream and the man would disappear the minute Bart woke up anyway.

“I do believe your fever is growing worse again. I’ll have to let Lam know where he can gather more leaves for the tea. I have to go. I’m not even supposed to be in touch with you. Death will have a fit if he found out I’d come to check on you.”

“Don’t.”

Pest hesitated before leaning down and brushing a kiss over Bart’s forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m allowed.”

Coolness spread through him, originating from where Pest’s lips had touched his skin. He closed his eyes and slipped under the darkness swirling through his mind.

“Shit.”

Bart’s eyes popped open and he saw the same ceiling like the first time he had woken up. Banging noises came from somewhere to his left, but he didn’t have the energy to look. His dry throat kept him from swallowing and he coughed.

“Oh, sorry about waking you up.”

Lam’s face appeared in front of Bart’s and the rather annoyed expression on the man’s face eased a little. Bart waved a very weak hand toward the glass Lam held.

“Right. You probably would like some water. I’m only going to give you a little to start with. Don’t want to flood your stomach or anything.”

Bart didn’t even know if that was possible, but he did know his stomach didn’t seem happy about anything going in. He turned away when a wave of nausea swept over him. After removing the glass, Lam sat on the edge of the mattress and leaned forward to touch his forehead.

“Pest said you would continue to be feverish for a while yet. Not that he knows what you might have.” Lam shook his head. “He sent me out to gather more plants for the fever.”

“Have you talked to him? How long have I been sick?”

Lam screwed up his mouth and thought. “I’m not sure how long you were ill before Pest found you, but you’ve been in and out of consciousness for two weeks. The bad thing is I don’t think you’re out of the woods, figuratively speaking. Your fever seems to come and go, and each time it returns, it’s worse.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Bart muttered.

“It isn’t, and that damn Horseman isn’t around to help me, or let me go back to what I was doing before I got dragged into keeping an eye on you. Of course, I will admit if he was here, you might be cured by now. Pest has a way with healing people.”

Bart didn’t know if he should apologize or just ignore the complaining. “Then you haven’t talked to Pest?”

“I’m not sure you’d call what we do talking, but I’ve been in touch with him. We’re both hoping the situation he’s involved in will be over with soon, and he’ll be back.” Lam frowned and his expression seemed worried. “I’m not a doctor or medicine man, Bart. What I’m doing is just slowing the process down. You’re still really sick and, while the Pale Horseman thinks we need to just let you die, I don’t think Pest is willing to do that.”

Confusion swirled around in Bart’s mind. “I didn’t know there were horses in the Amazon.”

“What? Horses in the Amazon?” Lam brushed his fingertips over Bart’s forehead. “You don’t look particularly feverish, but I could be wrong.”

Bart shook his head slightly, dislodging Lam’s fingers. “You said something about a Pale Horseman and you mentioned it again while you were talking about Pest. I didn’t realize there were horses here. Seems an odd place for them to be.”

Lam pursed his plump lips and studied Bart. “These Horsemen are very rare and unique creatures. Only four of them in the world, but they can be the most annoying individuals you’ll ever meet. They really don’t have anything to do with horses. It’s more of a title.”

Heat rose from Bart’s feet, almost like he’d stepped into a fire by accident. Moaning, he tried to kick the blankets off. God, he wanted it to be over. He should have known allowing his cock to think for him would get him in trouble. He was dying, all because he’d enjoyed getting fucked by Jasper to the point where all his common sense had flown out of the window. One day, they’d been trudging along, doing the research Jasper had come to the Amazon for. The next day, Jasper had abandoned him to die in the jungle.

“I should have known it was all too good to be true,” he muttered, pushing the sheets down with his hands. “I hope Jasper gets boils on his face and ass. I hope everyone who left me here gets some sort of intestinal parasite.”

“You have to stay covered, Bart. You might be hot at the moment, but in a few seconds, the fever will spike and you’ll get chilled.”

Lam tried to tuck the edges of the blanket around him, but Bart fought against it.

“No. I’m too hot. I can’t take it anymore. I’m tired.”

And just like that, all of Bart’s strength disappeared. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. It wasn’t like there was anyone in the outside world who would miss him. His parents had died when he was a teenager, and the relatives he had gone to live with were nice, but they had other kids and no real time for him. He’d gone to university and never really visited them after that. Birthday and Christmas cards were the most contact he had with any of his family.

He had a lot of associates, but no true friends. Liquid ran down his cheeks and he didn’t have the energy to wipe the tears away. It was hell finding out how alone in the world one was as one was dying. He’d thought Jasper was the one, but it had turned out his ex-lover used him to further his own career.

Maybe it was better to stop fighting. He didn’t have the energy to keep following the cycle of feeling better one minute and his body giving up on him the next. No one would care if he didn’t return from his research journey.

“Oh no.” Lam jerked the covers off him and grabbed his arm. “You aren’t giving up on me now. I promised Pestilence I’d keep you alive until he got back. I keep my promises, even to annoyingly arrogant Horsemen. You’re not going to die on my watch.”

Bart started to protest, but he gasped instead when Lam hefted him over his shoulder. Even if he’d lost weight while being ill, there was no way Lam should have been able to carry him, yet the small man didn’t even stagger as he took Bart’s entire weight. How had Lam known what he was thinking?

Before he could protest, Lam carted him out of the hut and across the small clearing to a natural pool where he deposited Bart. The soft trickling of water soothed Bart’s nerves, but his ability to care or move had been left behind.

“Thank God you’re naked. Now slide your ass into that water. There’s nothing dangerous in it—I checked. Plus Pest said he keeps snakes and other creatures away from it.”

“How can he do that? Can you read minds?”

Lam’s other statement hit him and he glanced down, shocked to see he really didn’t have any clothes on. He’d been too caught up in everything else, he hadn’t paid any attention to how his body was covered.

“Shit!”

He flailed, trying to cover his groin up, but it put him off balance and he fell into the water. The depth of the pool surprised him, so his head slipped under the surface. Suddenly dying didn’t seem like a good idea. His arms waved as he tried to swim his way back up. Lam’s hand encircled his wrist and he found himself practically flying through the air to land, gasping, on the side of the pool.

“Yes, I can read minds. It’s one of my many powers, which we won’t be going into at the moment. Maybe next time, you should ease yourself into the pool and not throw yourself in without finding out how deep it is. I’ve been taking care of you for two weeks now and you’ve been naked the entire time. It doesn’t matter to me.” Lam scowled at him, arms crossed. “Do you know how awkward the conversation with Pestilence would have been if he came home to find out you’d drowned instead of died from the fever?”

“Sorry. God knows I don’t want to upset you or Pest.” Bart did a mental eye roll since he had to focus on his breathing.

“Upsetting me is one thing. Upsetting Pest could have unexpected consequences. You know, have you been talking to Pest? You didn’t seem surprised when I mentioned his name.” Lam eyed him as if he’d just remembered something Bart had said earlier.