Riders (Riders, #1)(24)

“Better?”

“Exactly. Way better than my stomach’s going to feel after this food.” Stop, Blake. Just slow down.

“Oh, no. Do you have a stomachache?”

“No. My stomach’s prime.” What the hell was coming out of my mouth?

“Prime? So … it’s okay?”

“Totally. All good.”

After that I think I blacked out for a few seconds. When I came back around, Daryn had linked her hands over her head and was stretching in a way that made it an extreme test of self-control to maintain eye contact. The two guys in the booth next to ours looked over. It wasn’t the first time.

“What do you think,” Daryn said, tipping her head toward the window. “One-horse town?”

Okay. Here we go. “I guess you could say that.”

She rested her elbows on the table and leaned in. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your horse?”

I nodded.

“And? Was it amazing?”

“You could say that, too.”

“Will you show me?”

The bikers in the next booth looked over again. They were starting to piss me off and I already had a hot trigger from a terrible night of sleep. And from being told I was War. I could feel the anger kindling inside me and imagined it filling the space around me, a fight breaking out. I knew it was seconds away from happening.

Daryn followed my gaze. “Morning, guys,” she said, all chipper. “Try the blueberry pancakes. They’re prime.”

Just like that, it was big grins and thanks and have-a-great-days for Daryn. With that handled, she settled back.

“Prime,” I said.

Her eyes had a shine, like the sun on the sea.

She gave a little satisfied shrug. “Totally. All good.” She patted the table. “Pay up. Let’s get out of here.”

*

Ten minutes later, we were driving south on Highway 1. Daryn’s boots were up on the dash and she’d sunk into my Giants sweatshirt like a turtle in a shell. As eager to talk as she’d been at the diner; now she looked like she just wanted to be left alone.

“How’s it going over there?” I didn’t know what else to say. And I was done with silence.

She glanced at me. “Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out how to approach this. I won’t be able to answer everything. Okay?”

“Okay.” I couldn’t understand why she seemed nervous. Now. Talking to me. How was this the same girl who winked at bikers? “How about this,” I said. “I’ll ask questions, you answer them. What’s your last name?”

She let out a slow breath, like she was dreading this. “Martin.”

“How old are you, Daryn Martin?”

“Seventeen.”

“What’s your favorite breakfast food? Blueberry pancakes, right? Because if they’re not, I’m going to be crazy impressed by what you did back there.”

She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “The more syrup, the better.”

“What’s your journal about?”

I didn’t expect her to answer that one but she came right out and said, “Everything I care about.” She stretched my sweatshirt over her knees. “Those are easy questions. They’re easy ones to answer.”

“For you, they are. I didn’t know any of that stuff. You’re pretty much expert level on the subject of Daryn Martin.”

“Maybe.” She turned to her window. “But you don’t want to know about me.”

Actually, that wasn’t true. But it was fair to say my curiosity went well beyond her, too. “Let’s just keep going. We’ll stop when it’s not easy anymore. You came to find me last night at that party. Right?”

“Yes.” She peered at me. “But I didn’t expect to be sent for you first.”

“Because?”

“Because Conquest is the first horseman, not War. War is the second horseman. But like I said yesterday, none of what’s going on is related to Revelation. The seven seals? The events preceding Judgment Day? This isn’t about that, so I guess the order shouldn’t matter. You’re an incarnation of War. You’ve been given War’s abilities to carry out a mission.”

“Right. Okay. Right.” I couldn’t drive and have that conversation. I needed to give it my total focus, so I pulled off onto the shoulder and peeled the electrical tape under the steering column apart, killing the engine. A couple of surfers were out on the water, shredding. That looked fun. I wanted to be out there, not a care in the world.

“So, this guy,” I said. “Conquest. The other horseman. Wait—girl?”

“Guy.” Daryn was looking through the front windshield like we were still driving. “You’re all guys.”

“So, no horsepersons?” It sounded ridiculous, but it was an honest question.

“No.”

“What are you? Are you, like, an anj—anj—angel?” I’d been joking last night when I’d yelled that at her, but what if she really was?

Daryn shook her head. “Definitely not. I am definitely not an angel.” She looked at me, really directly. The more anxious she was, the more still she seemed to become. “Seeker. That’s … that’s how I think of myself.”