Once the last of the light gives way to darkness, I stand, dusting the dirt from the back of my pants. I’m hungry and thirsty and my future feels like it’s holding its breath.
I glance down at Thanatos.
“You have no clue what to do with me, do you?” I say.
I think I know what Death wants, and clearly on some level he knows too, but he hasn’t acted on his baser impulses, and I’m not foolish enough to give into them either. I wouldn’t want to go losing my heart or my head to this man because it won’t stop him. I know it won’t.
He glances up at me. “I’m willing to figure it out as I go.”
I frown at him, though I doubt he can see it in the dark. Briefly, I glance at the house behind us. Letting out a sigh, I turn from it and head down the rickety stairs that lead to the backyard.
“What are you doing, Lazarus?” Death asks from behind me. For the first time since we arrived, his voice sounds relaxed—assured. He knows I’m not going anywhere.
I toe the ground. “Looking for a place to sleep.”
“Last I heard, humans slept inside houses.”
“That structure,” I say, swiveling to point to the house, “is not fit for occupation.” The walls are probably filled with vermin. It smells as though they are.
I see him stand. “It’s too cold to stay out here.”
“The house won’t be any warmer,” I say. Not with the windows knocked out. “That I promise you.”
I look for an open patch of ground to lay on. There’s a lot of junk back here and more overgrowth, and a part of me is wondering if perhaps the house is the better option. But no, the abandoned building feels more like a cage than a home.
I do find a clear patch of earth, and I sit down, wishing I had a blanket or a jacket. I shiver again.
Tonight is going to be miserable.
Behind me, the rotted wood planking creaks as Thanatos rises, then descends down the stairs, step by ominous step. I hear the swish of plants as the horseman moves through the backyard, heading towards me.
He stops at my back.
“What?” I say, not turning around. I can’t see him, but I can feel his deep curiosity. I get the impression he’d like to open me like a box and peer in at what’s inside.
After a moment, Thanatos lowers himself to the ground next to me. One of his wings brushes against me, nearly bowling me over.
Now I look at him. “What are you doing?” I say, affronted. It was one thing to sit with me and watch the sunset, it’s another thing entirely to watch me fall asleep.
“I’m staying out here with you.” He says it like it’s obvious.
Before I can respond to that—and I have things to say—my stomach growls. Loudly.
Even in the darkness, I swear I see the horseman’s brows rise.
“What was that?” he asks.
“My stomach—don’t think you can just change the subject—”
“Why in all the heavens would your stomach make that God-fearing sound?”
Right. I almost forgot that he doesn’t know anything about humans.
“That’s what stomachs do when you’re hungry,” I say. “They make noises.”
Death falls silent, and I know he’s remembering all over again how ill-equipped he is to have a human captive.
Is it too much to hope that he’ll just give up and decide to let me go?
It probably is. I sigh. Oh well.
I lay down on my side. “You can’t sleep next to me,” I say.
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”
My breath hitches for a moment, and I think about the way Death’s been looking at me lately, and my body comes to life, my pulse throbbing between my legs. But then I remember that the horseman doesn’t sleep. And anyway, he’s my kidnapper and my enemy, and sexual relations with him are off limits.
“Well,” I clear my throat, “you can’t not-sleep next to me either,” I say.
“If you’re hoping to make some grand escape, Laz—”
“Don’t shorten my name,” I say, making a face. He keeps on doing that.
“—then you are delusional. I will not let you out of my sight. Not tonight, not ever.”
Chapter 23
Pleasanton, Texas
January, Year 27 of the Horsemen
The horseman doesn’t leave my side, damn him.
As the hours tick by and the night grows colder and colder, I’ve curled myself into a tinier and tinier ball. My whole body shakes, and I can’t seem to get warm enough to fall into a deep sleep. So instead, I’m vividly fantasizing about being tucked under a heap of woolen blankets, a fire roaring at my side.
It almost helps.
Thanatos has respected my wishes—he hasn’t laid down near me. He has, however, decided to pace nearby. I can hear the crunch of plants being crushed beneath his boots and the sway of weeds brushing against his wings. Back and forth he walks. Back and forth, back and forth, back and—
“W-will you p-please stop p-pacing?” It’s hard enough to sleep out here as it is.
The horseman’s footfalls come to a halt.
“This is the first time I have willingly kept myself in one place for so long,” he says out of the darkness. “It is … agitating.”
“G-go be a-agitated s-somewhere else,” I say.
There’s a pause, then—
“Why does your voice sound like that? And what is that clicking noise that keeps coming from you?”
“B-because I’m c-cold,” I say. “N-normally I s-sleep inside—”
“Inside was an option,” he cuts in.
“—i-in a bed w-with blankets to k-keep me warm.”
Thanatos is silent.
Surely he’s aware of this.
I hear him stalk towards me. When I think he’s within arm’s reach, he kneels down next to me.
“Wh-what are you—?”
Before I can finish the thought, the horseman is laying his body out alongside mine. He pulls me against him. His armor hasn’t reappeared yet, and I nearly moan at the heat emanating off of him.
“You’re shaking again,” he says, alarmed.
“B-because I’m c-cold,” I remind him.
I can’t see his frown in the darkness, but I feel it all the same.
One of his wings comes around me, blanketing me in. And now fantasies about woolen blankets have been sidelined in favor of this.
“Better?” he asks softly, his voice like a caress. This is far more intimate than I bargained for.
And I like it. I like it so much. I can feel Thanatos’s delicious heat against my back and the warmth from his wing insulating me everywhere else. If I were a cat, I’d be purring. I melt into the horseman’s embrace, all my earlier declarations about him keeping his distance long forgotten.
“Mmm,” I murmur.
For some stretch of time, the two of us simply lay there like that, the horseman holding me closer than necessary and me secretly enjoying the crap out of it. Eventually, my body stops shaking and my teeth stop chattering.
He pulls me in tighter, and I might just be reading into this, but I think he’s pleased that I’m no longer shivering and stuttering from the cold.
“You don’t need to do this,” I say softly.
Several seconds pass before he answers.
“I could tell you about the number of people who I’ve claimed on nights like these,” he says. “I could tell you that you would only slow me down if you were dead or weak. But the truth is, this is instinct, kismet. I don’t understand why, but I want to be close to you, I want to hold you when you say you are cold.”
My heart beats loudly.
He is your enemy.
He is your enemy.
He’s solemn and indifferent and he’s hurt you and now he’s kidnapped you.
Do not give in to the pretty words.
“You’re really planning on laying here, out in the cold, with your wing pulled over me the entire night just to keep me warm?” I say.
“I’m not opposed to going inside where it’s probably warmer, but yes, I … think I am.”
My heart beats madly in my chest. I thought this was intimate before, when it was purely physical. I realize now that I was using the word wrong. Because this is intimate.
“I don’t know what to make of you,” I say quietly.
“Go to sleep, Lazarus. You can analyze it in the morning.”
And I do. Somehow, I fall asleep in Death’s arms like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I wake burrowed against a broad chest.
I snuggle deeper into the heat and solid muscle before it registers.
I’m in Death’s arms.
Literal Death.
I blink my eyes open only to find that he’s staring at me.
All at once I’m pushing away from him, trying to get out of his arms.
For an instant, his hold tightens, but then he does release me, and I roll away, brushing past the dark wing that’s still covering me.
I scramble to my feet, nearly tripping over a discarded computer monitor laying nearby.
Thanatos props himself up on an elbow. He doesn’t look like he’s in any hurry to get up, even though the plants around us have lacy frost on their edges and his breath is misting in the morning air and his muscles must be stiff from staying in the same position for so long.
Assuming, of course, that the horseman gets stiff muscles.
He probably doesn’t.
I don’t know what to think about the fact that Death himself held me through the night, so after taking a deep breath and staring at him for a long moment, I settle for turning my back on the horseman and heading back into the derelict ranch house.
Not a minute later the door creaks open behind me.
“Can’t you give me one iota of space?” I say without turning around. “Is that too much to ask?”
Thanatos’s heavy footfalls are slow, the wood creaking beneath him with each step he takes.
“Do you really want space?” he asks softly. He comes right up to my back.
“Yes,” I say, swiveling around to face him.
“So be it.”
Death grabs one of my wrists.
“Hey!” Before I can jerk away from his hold, he spins me around and grabs the other. He pulls them both behind me.
“What are you doing?” I yank against him as I speak.
Thanatos whistles over his shoulder, and I hear the distant plod of horse’s hooves.
Still holding my wrists, Thanatos steers me towards the front door, opening it wide. Outside, his horse trots up to the front of the house, tossing its dark mane. Without any prompting, the beast enters the building, coming right up to Death’s side.
I jerk against Thanatos’s hold again, but it’s useless. His grip is unyielding.
“So, are we back to being enemies?” I say.
He pulls me close. “You’re the one who keeps insisting we have never stopped being ones.”
I growl as I try to tug my wrists free. It’s useless. “Well, friends definitely don’t restrain each other.”
Death reaches into one of his horse’s saddlebags and pulls out—
“Rope? You’re going to tie me up now?” I ask, outraged. As I speak, his horse plods back out of the house.
Death jerks me by my wrists so that I’m forced to lean back against his sculpted chest. “You have tied me up several times yourself,” he says, his lips brushing against my ear. Goosebumps break out across my skin. “It’s only fitting I return the favor.”
“How in the fuck does this solve the problem of you being too close?”
“It’s simple, kismet,” he says. “You’re going to stay here, tied up, where you can enjoy some space from me while I leave.”
I yank against him again. I don’t like this plan. Not one bit.
“And when I return,” he continues smoothly, “maybe you’ll be ready for my company once more.”
I swear I catch a note of hurt in Death’s voice, but that’s ridiculous, right? Right.
The horseman binds my wrists behind my back, then hauls me over to the nasty, stained recliner, where he ties the other end of the rope to the chair’s rusted metal base.
This. Is. Such. Bullshit.
“My,” he says, looking me over while I glare at him, “this feeling is so reminiscent of all those times you held me hostage. Unfortunately for you, Laz, you don’t have the strength to free yourself.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grind out.
“Would you prefer kismet?” Death’s eyes drop to my lips. They’ve been doing that a lot since he took me. Despite the fact that I’m spitting mad and he might feel hurt, I still think the horseman wants a kiss. “You seem to have taken no issue with that name.”
I glare at him. “The moment I get out of these bindings, you’re going to regret it.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He touches my cheek, then stands. “Either way, I’ll be back soon. I am … eager to return to your side.”
Death turns and walks towards the door, his heavy boots clinking as he moves away from me.
I jerk against my bindings. “Thanatos, you can’t be serious.”
He ignores me.
“Where are you even going?” I demand.
He turns, and morning sunlight streams through the windows behind him, illuminating him in a corona of light. It’s annoying how beautiful—how celestial—he looks. The look he gives me, however, chills my blood.
“I have work to do, Lazarus. I trust you’re aware of that?”
I go still as his plan falls into place: he intends to travel with me, then keep me caged while he’s off destroying the world.
I feel my face pale. “Death,” I breathe. “Please,” I say. “Don’t do this.” This is what I’ve been whittled down to—begging. Pointless, powerless begging. “You do enough damage between cities as it is.”
“I’ll see you soon, kismet,” he says. With that, he’s gone, the door creaking shut behind him.
Shit, shit, shit.
I need to get the hell out of here, now.
Chapter 24
Pleasanton, Texas
January, Year 27 of the Horsemen
Fuck that motherfucker.
For the hundredth time I pull against my bindings. It’s useless. My wrists are wrapped too tightly at my back for me to undo the knot at the base of the recliner. Not that I haven’t tried. I’ve also attempted to drag the piece of furniture out the door. That only resulted in the thing tipping over and crushing me, and then me panicking, memories of being trapped flittering through my mind.
So now, despite the fact that I’ve managed to get myself out from under the recliner, I’ve decided to stop struggling. At least until Death gets back. Then, I’ll happily set myself loose on him.
I’m painfully hungry, and I’m pretty sure that I’d give up orgasms forever—okay, maybe for a month—for a nice, cold glass of water.
At least I don’t need to go to the bathroom. That’s a perk of not eating or drinking for extended periods of time.
I bang the back of my head against the musty recliner, bored and frustrated.
In the distance, I hear galloping.
I tense, even as my heart begins to race.
He’s already back.
Shit, that was fast. It took him what—an hour? Two? And in that time a city was annihilated. My righteous anger burns like poison in my veins.
The moment I’m out of these restraints, I’m going to throttle the horseman with my bare hands, the bastard.
I strain my ears, listening to Death’s approach.
The hoof beats come to a stop a ways away, and then I hear the thicket Thanatos grew around the property now rustle. The hoof beats start up once more, galloping all the way to the front stoop.
Outside, I can hear Death dismount, his armor clanking together.
I am eager to return to your side.
My stomach clenches.
“Knock, k
nock motherfucker,” a deep voice calls stepping up to the door.
A voice that most definitely does not belong to Thanatos.
My breath catches in my throat.
Well, shit.
BOOM!
I flinch as the hinges screech and wood splinters, the door caving inward. The man kicks it again, and the last remnants of it smash apart. It hits the ground with a dull thud.
Then there, standing in the doorway is the thing of nightmares.
Another horseman.
Chapter 25
Pleasanton, Texas
January, Year 27 of the Horsemen
I stare at the armored being, a scythe gripped in his hand.
The horseman takes in the shadowy room for a split second before his eyes fall to me.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands.
Someone who would really, really like to be any place other than here.
I am literally quaking at the sight of this man. And his scythe. It doesn’t matter that I can’t truly die, I am afraid for my life.
Pull yourself together, Lazarus. You’ve faced down horsemen before.
I take a shallow breath to calm my nerves.
“That depends,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even. “Who the hell are you?”
Not that he needs a nametag. It’s pretty obvious.
The horseman narrows his eyes. He takes a few steps forward, and a sheathed sword at his side sways with the motion.
I tense up. I have no idea what sort of relationship this horseman has with Death. There are so many reasons he might want to hurt me, and everything about him—even the way he moves—screams violence.
Good God. I’m having a hard time processing that there are actually four of these bastards around.
“Are you Death’s woman?” he asks.
My eyebrows rise. Death’s woman?
Hardly.
“I’m his prisoner.” I glance meaningfully over my shoulder where I’m tied up.
He smirks, like the term is cute.
The longer he looks at me, the bigger that smirk grows and the brighter his eyes become.
This is where I get stabbed and left for dead.
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