Death (The Four Horsemen Book 4)

by Laura Thalassa

  “Just for a little while,” he agrees, then seals the promise with a kiss.

  Chapter 64

  Los Angeles, California

  October, Year 27 of the Horsemen

  The inside of the home is even grander than the outside, everything done in whites and creams and pale neutrals that I could never, ever keep nice and clean.

  The back of the house is hardly more than a wall of windows, and through them, I can see where the true magnificence of this house lies. The backyard is massive, the back patio bracketed in by a low stone railing. A pathway descends down the sloping lawn, eventually giving way to golden sand. Beyond that lies the Pacific.

  On impulse, I grab Death’s hand and head for the back doors. He lets me drag him outside. I don’t linger on that spacious patio, though a part of me wants to. I can all but see the lavish dinner parties that might have once been held here, under the twinkling stars, the smell of the ocean thick in the air. If I close my eyes, I can imagine that world, full of shimmering dresses and bubbly drinks and soft music playing in the background.

  It’ll never happen again, at least not here and not anytime soon.

  I lead Thanatos off the patio and down the sloping path to the beach. The daylight is already giving way to night, the sky a pale purple. The way the sun glances off the water makes it look metallic.

  “Where are you taking me?” Death finally asks, a smile in his voice.

  I know without looking that he is immensely pleased at being the one dragged along. I guess he’s gotten tired of being in the opposite role.

  “To the ocean,” I say. I assumed it was obvious.

  “Lazarus, we just saw the ocean. I do not need to see it again.”

  I glance over my shoulder at him. “But have you swam in it?”

  He hesitates, and I already know his answer.

  “Neither have I,” I admit. “But I want to, and … I want you to join me.”

  Thanatos gives me a penetrating look, one that makes my heart speed up.

  The path ends and my feet sink into the sand. I release the horseman’s hand so that I can kick off my boots.

  Death looms over me. “What are you doing, Laz?”

  “Getting ready to get in.” I eye his armor. “You’ll want to take that off. Otherwise, you’ll sink like a stone.” I nearly shudder at the thought of Death trapped at the bottom of the ocean, waking only to drown again and again.

  He touches his breastplate, no longer looking so excited about being dragged out here after all.

  “Can you not swim?” I ask.

  “Of course I can,” Thanatos says, affronted.

  “Then why are you hesitating?” I ask. “I thought you liked getting wet,” I say, innuendo thick in my voice.

  He doesn’t miss it.

  Death’s eyes grow hooded, and now he does reach for the straps of his breastplate, unfastening them one by one.

  Still staring at him, I undo my pants and shimmy out of them.

  If Death was uncertain before about getting in the water, he is no longer.

  I pull off my shirt, tossing it aside. My bra and panties are the last to go. Thanatos is still removing his armor, but I don’t wait for him to finish.

  With a reckless laugh, I race down the beach, wet sand squishing between my toes. I hiss when the chilly water laps at my ankles, but I don’t stop running, kicking up salty water as I go. When I’m far enough out, I dive into a wave.

  For an instant, being fully submerged is a shock to the system. The sea is painfully cold. Maybe that’s why it makes me feel so alive. I rise up to the surface, slicking my hair back.

  “Fuck.”

  The oath has me turning towards the shore.

  Death wears a grimace on his face as he strides through the briny water.

  Despite his mood, he’s a sight to behold. My gaze travels over the hard packed muscle of his shoulders and arms before moving down his tapered chest. His tattoos are on full display, and their reflection glitters on the surface of the water.

  “I thought the heat and the cold didn’t bother you,” I say. My teeth are already chattering, but I’m so exhilarated by the crash of the waves and the sand between my toes that I can’t find it in myself to care.

  “This would bother even the dead,” Death says vehemently.

  I laugh because he’s being ridiculous; he probably doesn’t even feel the cold.

  Thanatos scowls at the water. “This is worse than wine.”

  That only makes me laugh harder. The sound lifts his gaze to my lips. Death moves towards me, the water slipping past his waist and wings. The way he’s looking at me … I’d say he seemed agonized if there wasn’t a softness to his eyes.

  Thanatos reaches me, and he cups my cheeks. He takes me in for several seconds.

  “I love you,” he breathes.

  Then his lips descend on mine.

  My hands tremble where I grip his arms, and I want to weep and laugh all at once.

  He breaks away. “I love you,” he says again, still cupping my face, his eyes searching mine.

  I’m shaking my head—I don’t know why I’m shaking my head. This is everything I want to hear.

  “I do,” he insists. “I have been waiting for you from the moment I was first formed, long before you ever drew breath.” He takes my hand and presses it over his heart. “You have been here the whole time, even when I thought I didn’t want it, even when I believed love was a curse and a weakness.

  “Nothing has ever been the same since we first crossed paths, Lazarus. Nothing will ever be the same again. And I swear to you, until my dying day, I will love you.”

  He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him and erasing what little distance remained between us. High above, the sky has turned a deep blue and the first stars have appeared.

  Neither of us speaks as I wrap my legs around him, locking my ankles behind his back.

  He only takes a moment to line us up before he drives into me. I cry out at the sensation, but already Death is withdrawing and thrusting back in. I twine my arms around his neck as he pumps into me like he’s trying to get as deep as possible.

  “God,” he groans, “the way you grip me, kismet. I could live here, inside you, forever.”

  I capture his mouth and kiss him as a wave crashes around us, and I taste saltwater on his lips.

  The horseman moves his mouth away to press kisses along my cheek. He nips at my earlobe as he slides out of me, then pistons back in.

  I moan, my mind blown for the countless time at the witchcraft that is this horseman.

  His thrusts are deep and languid, and his glittering glyphs illuminate his eyes, giving them extra luster as he stares at me.

  “You are everything I thought I couldn’t have,” he breathes.

  I want to hide from his raw admission, but only because I’ve been in the habit of doing so for so long. Instead, I lean into that weightless feeling that fills me.

  I touch Death’s face. “And you’re everything I thought I shouldn’t have,” I respond.

  Couldn’t, shouldn’t—we’ve defied ourselves to be together.

  Thanatos’s thrusts grow deeper and more powerful. The waves lap at us, but locked in the horseman’s arms, I barely notice it.

  He leans in for a kiss, his tongue stroking mine for the briefest of moments before retreating.

  Death breaks off the kiss, his hand cupped against my cheek, his face inches from mine. “How I enjoy tasting you, kismet.” He’s still driving himself into me, and his eyes go molten at whatever expression I wear. “And that look—that look reassures me that I have ensnared you just as much as you have me.”

  The horseman moves his hands to my hips, rocking into me again and again until my legs are tightening around his waist. When he’s thrust himself as deep as he can go, he pauses, holding us in that position.

  “Thanatos,” I pant.

  He grins. “This, however, is perhaps what I enjoy most—when I am fit so
tightly inside you that I am not quite sure where I end and you begin. I love it all far too much for my own good.”

  My hands thread through his hair. “I think you also like torturing me.”

  Death grins again. “Only a little.”

  With that he begins to move again, thrusting harder and harder until the water is frothing around us.

  His hand slips down to my clit, and he begins stroking it, and oh dear God, he’s no longer playing fair.

  I catch his wrist, trying to pry his hand from my flesh.

  “It’s too much,” I pant.

  “You’ll take it,” Death insists. He continues to toy with my clit, the pad of his finger gliding over it again and again as he moves in me.

  It really is too much.

  I moan, lost to the sensation. My other hand has tightened in Thanatos’s hair, and he growls at the sensation.

  He dips his head, his lips taking in the tip of my breast. His teeth graze over my nipple, and I am done.

  I cry out as I shatter apart, my orgasm almost violent. On and on it goes, every stroke of Death’s hips stretching it out a little longer. Even once it finally comes to a close, the horseman hasn’t removed his hand from my clit.

  I reach for his wrist again, and he laughs.

  “I don’t think so, kismet. You’re not done yet.”

  I stare at him like he’s sprouted two heads—at least I try to. It’s really fucking difficult when he’s stroking me from both the inside and the outside.

  “Thanatos.”

  “Yes,” he says, flashing me a wolfish grin, “say my name again like that.”

  “It’s too much,” I insist.

  “Well, we both know you won’t die from it.”

  Ha-ha, he’s so funny. Not.

  I’m panting again, and can feel another orgasm building like the first one never happened.

  Now I do huff out a laugh. “I cannot believe you.”

  The water is freezing, the waves are crashing into us, and none of it is nearly as distracting as this sadistic horseman who wants to torture me with pleasure. Death’s slamming his cock into me, and my aching pussy is throbbing.

  Thanatos flashes me a devilish look, then pinches my clit.

  Just like that, a second orgasm sweeps through me. My fingernails dig into his skin as I tilt my head back, giving myself over to the sensation.

  Death leans in, pressing a kiss to my throat as I ride my climax out.

  And though he’s stopped pinching my clit, the horseman’s hand still hasn’t left it. I just about cry from the sensation, which was wonderful a second ago, but now is way too much.

  I’m pretty sure Thanatos wants to see just how many back-to-back orgasms he can wring from me.

  I guess he doesn’t realize that I can play him like an instrument too.

  My hand slips down, between his legs, and I cup his balls.

  Death groans, his legs trembling just a little.

  “Oh, did you think you were the only one with keys to the kingdom?” I say, my voice raspy. As I speak, I let my nails scrape over his sensitive skin.

  The horseman’s eyes widen. “Lazarus,” he pants.

  “Yes,” I agree. “Say my name like that.” I throw his earlier words back at him. “Better yet—beg.” As I speak, I continue to play with his balls, ignoring how his own touch is brutalizing me in the most exquisite way.

  Death’s thrusts become erratic. “You—are—merciless …” he bites out. Then, with a shout, he comes, hammering into me again and again.

  I sigh as finally his hand leaves my clit. His cock strokes me several more times before he slips out. And then he simply holds me close.

  I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, my spent body plastered against his.

  “You are a bastard,” I whisper

  I feel him grin against my cheek. “I’m your bastard.”

  I swallow.

  “Yes,” I agree. “You’re mine.”

  The two of us lay out on the beach, still completely naked. The ocean air is chilly, but Death’s wings are warm, and I’ve managed to sneak myself under one.

  Above us, I can see the Milky Way stretching out across the night sky. The stars gleam like jewels.

  “What do you feel when you look up at the stars?” I ask.

  Thanatos turns his head, and I can feel his gaze on me. “I’m supposed to feel something?”

  A laugh slips out at that. “I’m trying to be deep here, and you’re ruining it.”

  He’s still looking at me, and when I tilt my head to face him, I can see the want in his eyes, like he craves my entire essence.

  “Do you feel anywhere what I do?” he asks.

  A bead of saltwater clings to a wet lock of his hair. I focus on it as I swallow.

  “Yes,” I answer seriously, my gaze meeting his.

  His starry eyes deepen at my admission.

  After a moment, I tear my gaze away to stare back up at the sky.

  “Every time I look up there,” I say. “I feel like I remember who I am.”

  “And who is that?” he asks quietly.

  I swear he’s bracing himself for my answer.

  “That’s the funny thing,” I say. “I don’t even feel like a who when I look at those stars—more like a what. Like I’m something that doesn’t have worries or fears. I just am.”

  Death is still staring at me, and I can feel the weight of that gaze.

  Eventually, he turns his face towards the sky. “I have lived for a very, very long time. I have watched people die over and over again. I have caught so many glimpses of life, and I have learned much about the world here.

  “And yet, so much of this is a mystery. Being what I am—death—makes experiencing life so very strange and foreign. The only thing that seems to ground me is being with you, kismet.

  “This feeling I get when I’m with you is … there aren’t human words for it. It’s incomparable. All I can truly tell you is that when I hold you close to me, I am sure no one has ever felt as happy as I do.

  “So, to answer your question, I don’t remember myself when I look at the sky.” He takes my hand and tilts his head to face me once more. “I remember myself when I look at you.”

  My heart pounds madly as I lose myself in those eyes of his. There’s nothing I can say to match his words, so instead I lean forward and kiss my horseman.

  Death wraps an arm around my waist and rolls us. As he does so, he hikes up one of my legs and slides himself into me. And then the two of us are lost in each other once more.

  Chapter 65

  Los Angeles, California

  October, Year 27 of the Horsemen

  The sun is setting the next day when I coax Death into the home’s grand kitchen. Not that it took much effort. We’ve been playing the let’s-christen-each-room-of-this-house game, so Thanatos probably thinks this is me trying to add a food kink to our sex, which—good idea, but that’s not where my head’s at.

  All around me are half a dozen skeletons, each one busy chopping or baking or stirring something.

  Turning to Thanatos, I ask, “Can you tell your servants to leave the kitchen?”

  He tilts his head. “Why? Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I thought we might do something a little different tonight,” I say.

  He stares at me for a long moment, and yep, he definitely thinks he’s going to get boned.

  Death must give his servants some wordless instruction because suddenly, every skeleton stops what they’re doing. Putting down stirring spoons and knives and all other manner of utensils, they leave the room at once.

  It’s strange, those creatures are nothing more than puppets pulled by magical strings, and yet now that they are gone, the room feels so much more intimate.

  Thanatos takes a step towards me, his gaze growing hungry.

  Before he can do something that distracts me into christening the kitchen, I put a hand on his chest.

  “Wait,” I say breathlessly.

&
nbsp; Death’s eyes are heated, and though he pauses, he’s clearly just waiting for me to finish whatever it is I want to say so that he can continue.

  And I’m getting awfully distracted by the look in his eyes.

  “I wanted to show you something—something about me.” I’m grasping at words, trying to turn my mind away from the thought of his skin pressed against mine, his lips dragging along my flesh—

  “You want my human secrets,” I say. “And I wanted to show this one to you.”

  Thanatos’s eyes gleam.

  “It’s not sex,” I feel the need to add.

  “Alright,” he says good-naturedly. “You’ll share this secret, I’ll bask in the wonder of your existence, and then I’ll make love to you.”

  My God.

  He leans a hip against a nearby counter, his wings rustling as he folds his arms. He’s still gazing at me like he could eat me up, and it’s all I can do to concentrate on finding flour and sugar and all the other ingredients I’m going to need. Then, rummaging around, I manage to procure a mixing bowl and some measuring cups and spoons.

  Grabbing a wooden cutting board, I bring the items to a bit of counter space that Death’s servants haven’t already made use of.

  “What are you doing?” Thanatos asks, nodding at the gathered ingredients. It’s as though he’s never seen his skeletons working with the same items.

  I glance over then, a small smile curving the corner of one of my lips up. I’m actually kind of thrilled to be doing this. “I want to cook with you.”

  Now some trepidation enters the horseman’s eyes. “What are … we cooking?”

  I relax a little, hearing his words. Death might not like food, but he’s willing to do this with me.

  I turn back to the cutting board and the gathered ingredients. “My mother liked to call this soul bread.”

  Just the thought of her conjures the memory of her brief resurrection.

  Whatever you have done to bring me here, you undo it.

  I swallow down the pain and guilt I feel.

  Death’s brows pinch together. “I know what spirits are, and I know what bread is. I do not know how the two of them meet up.”

  “Mom used to tell me that there are certain foods you make with love. You press a bit of your very soul into the ingredients—hence the name. ”