Free The Four Horsemen 4 - Death by T.A. Chase Page A

Death vowed.
“Then what? Are you going to dump him somewhere without anyone to support him? He needs a support system in place to help him when the craving hits.” Bart encircled Aldo’s waist with his arm and settled beside Aldo like he belonged there.
Which Bart did, Death admitted to himself. Somehow fate or whatever people wanted to call the higher power had done its job and picked the right person for each of the former Horsemen. Death doubted there was a person in the world who would fit him and his wants. Hell, the last time he thought he’d found the right person, he hadn’t been there when Oliver died.
No one had been there when Death died either, so it was fitting they’d both died alone. Only Oliver didn’t deserve to die that way. Death shook his head. He couldn’t keep dwelling on those thoughts. It didn’t pay to relive his past, especially when he couldn’t fix it.
“I’ll do my best to make sure he’ll have friends who won’t lead him astray. Unfortunately, Pierre has money, and that doesn’t always lend itself to having friends you can trust.”
Death tucked Pierre against his chest and nodded at Aldo.
“Thank you for doing what you could. I’m sorry to have bothered you while you’re on vacation.”
Aldo hugged Bart closer and smiled. “Anytime, Death. You know I won’t turn you away after all you did for us.”
Death held up a hand before nudging his stallion with his heels. The stallion snorted but took off in a trot. They wound their way through the rows of grape vines until they reached a flat area where the horse could gain a little speed before it leapt into the air. A flash of light and a boom of thunder echoed around the countryside, and Death disappeared into the darkness.
* * * *
    Death stared at the man lying on his guest bed. Whimpering, Pierre scratched at his arms. It was time to give the man the next baggie of heroin, but Death didn’t want to do it. Maybe he should just let Pierre quit cold turkey. He’d be there to keep an eye on him, and if things were bad, he’d take Pierre to a hospital.
    “Man, I’m dying here. Where the fuck is the stuff? You fucking promised you’d give it to me when I needed it. Well, I sure as fuck need it now,” Pierre snapped.
It seemed Pierre lost all his politeness when he was going through withdrawals. Death managed to hide his smile as he crossed the hallway and went into his bedroom. He pulled out a small wooden box, unlocked it, and retrieved the next baggie, plus all the paraphernalia Pierre would need to shoot up. He locked the box, returning it to the back of his dresser. It wasn’t the ideal hiding spot if Pierre were capable of wandering around the apartment, but at the moment, it worked. When Pierre became more lucid, Death would consider moving it somewhere less obvious.
“Here.” He strolled in and tossed the stuff on the blanket next to Pierre. “It’s your next hit. It won’t be as much, so the high won’t last as long, but we’ll make sure you go a little longer on the other side of the high.”
Pierre lunged for the bags like a cobra after a mouse. Death shook his head and left before Pierre could get anything opened. He wasn’t going to sit around and watch the man shoot up.
After going to his study, he sat at his desk and fired up his laptop. Unlike the other Horsemen, he embraced modern times and conveniences. Why not? There weren’t any rules stating they had to remain in the dark ages when it came to their living arrangements. He never really understood why Aldo, Baqir, and Kibwe had chosen to live apart from mortals.
Death hardly mingled with people, but he didn’t totally cut himself off from them and the marvellous modern inventions they’d created. His home screen popped up, and he clicked on his web browser. It was time to do some research on his guest. Death needed to see if anyone was looking for Pierre and whether it was someone Death needed to hide the man from.
He didn’t know Pierre’s last