The Chronicles of John Zebedee by Elizabeth Schechter

Author:Elizabeth Schechter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Romance, Wandering Jew
Publisher: Elizabeth Schechter
Published: 2023-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

JOHN HEARD MOVEMENT from behind him in the wagon, and snapped the reins, clucking to Barak.

“Just a little further, Barak,” he called. “We’ll stop soon.”

A moment later, he heard a groan. Then a curse.

“John!” Parsons shouted. “John, damn your eyes! Untie me!”

“No,” John called over his shoulder. “We’re not stopping yet. So you just have to stay there.”

He heard more movement, more cursing. John looked back into the wagon, but really couldn’t see anything. He yawned, and pinched himself. Then he blinked. Smoke? Was he smelling smoke?

“John.” Movement behind him, and Parsons climbed over the back of the seat and settled next to John. John looked over his shoulder.

“What did you do?” he asked. “Burn the ropes? I thought I smelled smoke.”

“Burned myself twice doing it,” Parsons grumbled.

“And... are you going to hit me back?” John asked. “Because we’ll be stopping soon, and I’ll just ask you to wait until we do. We can’t afford to stop yet.”

“No,” Parsons answered. “No, I’m not going to hit you.” He took a breath, then added, “I thought about it. But if I did, you’d probably break both my arms. I’m not a brawler, remember?” He took another deep breath. “But you’re right. I have to live with my mistakes. I can’t run from them anymore. And I can’t hide from them in the bottle. Not anymore.” He looked over his shoulder. “Has it been quiet?”

“No ghosts, no riders,” John answered. “The pouches are by your feet. We’re coming up on a stream, and on the far side, I want to change horses.”

“Then you can rest,” Parsons added. “I’ll drive.”

John looked at him. “And no tricks?” he asked. “No trying to run off?”

“I promise.” Parsons looked up at the sky. “It’s coming on to midnight, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” John looked up. Then he yawned. “We’ll be to the ferry by dawn at this pace. The stream we’re coming to is about halfway.”

“Then that’s a good place to change horses, and for you to go stretch out and rest.”

They crossed the stream, and John brought the wagon to a stop. He and Parsons unharnessed Barak, letting him drink and graze while they harnessed Windrider in his place. They tethered Barak to the back of the wagon, then Parsons climbed up into the seat while John stretched out in the back.

The last thing John remembered was Parsons, singing softly to his horse. The gentle melody combined with the swaying of the wagon to lull John into a deep, dreamless sleep...

Only to be startled awake by a weight on his chest, a hand pressed over his mouth and nose, cutting off his voice and his air. He struggled, seeing a dark form over him, and a wide, toothy grin. Parsons! Where was Parsons?

“You’ve made one hell of a mistake, John Zebedee,” Wraith growled. “You’ve made me mad, and you’ve stolen something of mine. Now?” The grin grew impossibly wider, and John felt sharp nails piercing his skin. “Now, just you remember this. I will be the last thing that you ever see.

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