He glances down at his bound hands and ankles, his smile slipping away. “You knocked me down,” he recalls.
I try not to wince at the memory of my graceless leap.
His gaze rises to mine. “And then you stabbed me.” Accusation laces his words. “And now …” His attention returns to his bindings.
“You’re my captive,” I tell him as he awkwardly pushes himself up to sitting position. His wings lift at his back as he does so.
Death’s eyebrows lift. “I’m your … ?” He smirks then. “Captive.” He says the word with relish and perhaps a pinch of humor, and maybe I should stab him again. Just, you know, to remind him of the power dynamics here.
He jerks his head back to toss a lock of hair behind an ear, and I jolt a little at the sudden action, my adrenaline rising.
Thanatos notices, and it causes him to grin again.
He clicks his tongue. “That will never do, kismet. How are you supposed to control me if my every movement startles you?”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“This is how it’s going to be,” I say slowly. “We’re going to stay here, together, and if you make any move to escape,” I touch the bow resting next to me, “I will shoot you.”
“I guess I’m trapped,” he says. He doesn’t sound worried. Or defeated. He doesn’t sound like someone who’s gotten themselves into an unfortunate situation at all.
If anything, he seems amused.
Bastard.
“What will you do with me?” he asks, his gaze flicking over my form. Something about the way he assesses me has blood rushing to my cheeks and core.
“I’m going to keep you here, where you cannot destroy any more towns.”
Death’s eyes gleam, but he says nothing to that.
I’ve caught a creature higher up on the food chain than myself. I truly am a fool for even attempting this.
“So then we are to live here?” he asks, glancing around at our surroundings. “Together?”
He makes it sound like the two of us are shacking up like some couple.
My plan is unraveling.
I frown at him. “That’s not how this situation works.”
“Then how does it work?”
“If you move, I attack.”
He flashes me a sly glance, then leans to the left.
“I’m moving,” he taunts.
“Don’t be childish,” I say.
“I wouldn’t know how to be childish,” he counters, “I’ve never been a child.”
I narrow my eyes at him again.
He leans right. “Still moving.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Quick as lightning, I pull out my bow, nock an arrow, and shoot.
He hisses when I hit a wing, the arrow getting caught in his feathers.
“This isn’t a joke to me,” I say. “I will keep shooting you if you don’t listen.”
“Will you?” Death presses, a muscle in his jaw flexing with the pain. “Because I have a feeling your violence only goes so far.”
I have nothing to say to that. It’s so painfully close to the truth, and I have no idea how I’ve become that transparent.
When all I do is sit there and stare at him, he finally says, “Are you going to remove the arrow? Or are you afraid I’ll move?”
I glare at him. “Maybe I want to see you in pain.”
“You don’t enjoy it,” he states, his face growing serious. “Just as I don’t.”
“You don’t enjoy all the violence?” I say, raising my eyebrows. I find that hard to believe.
“I see why you have been put in my path,” Death says softly, ignoring my words. “We are alike in one fundamental way.”
Now he thinks we’re alike? This conversation is growing wilder by the second.
“Duty is duty,” Death says. He settles back a little. “But—to answer your previous question—no, I don’t enjoy it.”
Hours pass and the light fades. It’s hard to make out anything in the darkness, and it’s made me more than a little jumpy. I’m pretty sure I’d know if Death got free—but then, there’s no way of knowing with absolute certainty, not without getting close to him, and that poses its own sort of risks.
“I like this,” Thanatos admits across from me, breaking the silence.
His voice is like velvet, and it should be soothing. Instead, a childlike fear of this thing that lurks in the darkness consumes me, sending my pulse racing.
“You like this?” I say in disbelief, trying to control my voice.
“Sitting with you. Talking with you. Not fighting for once,” Thanatos says. After a moment, he adds, “The fighting is … I find it exhilarating to be pitted against you, but well, now you know how I feel about hurting you. Talking with you, however—this is intriguing.”
At his words, my fear transforms, and I’m reminded of those stray thoughts and dreams I’ve had over the last months. Ones where Death isn’t my enemy at all, and he looks at me and touches me entirely differently …
I am not right in the head.
I clear my throat. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” Death asks, curious.
I rub my eyes. “Because.”
Because it makes me want to like you, and that is an absolutely terrifying concept.
The barn is oppressively quiet, and a part of me wishes I could see the horseman’s face.
He is right. There is something intriguing about sitting here and actually talking to this menace.
“We are alike in another fundamental way,” he says after a moment.
And what is that? The question burns in my throat, but I won’t let myself ask it.
And Death never elaborates.
By the middle of the night it becomes clear I’m in over my head.
I’m hungry and thirsty and chilled, and I need to go to the bathroom. But most of all, I’m tired. I’ve lived in a perpetual state of exhaustion chasing this man around the country.
I yawn for the fifth time? Sixth time?
“Better not fall asleep, kismet.” Death’s voice comes from out of the darkness. “That’s when I’ll strike.”
“Better not move, horseman. That’s when I’ll shoot.”
I hear his low, almost sexual laugh. My stomach clenches at the sound.
After a moment, I ask, “What does that word mean? Kismet?”
He’s called me that several times before.
There’s a long pause.
“I assumed you would know,” he finally says. “It is a human word after all.” He adds, “It means fate.”
Fate?
“Why would you call me that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“You do not know.” Death says it like a statement, and yet I swear there’s a note of surprise in his voice.
“Know what?”
But he doesn’t answer, and I don’t have the energy to press him for more.
For a while, his warning to stay awake is enough to keep me alert. But the hours tick by and there’s nothing to do but stare into the darkness.
I don’t mean to slip off to sleep. To be honest, I would’ve sworn I hadn’t fallen asleep, but suddenly I’m roused by cool fingers brushing my hair back from my ear. For a moment, I’ve forgotten the situation, and that touch is so gentle that I lean into it.
A moment later, lips replace those fingers.
“I was so intrigued at the thought of being your captive, Laz, I almost stayed put,” Death whispers against my ear. “But I have work to do.”
I stiffen at the sound of his voice, panic flooding my veins. He’s broken free.
“Maybe next time,” he adds, “you can be my captive.”
“Thanat—” Just as I’m turning to face him, my hand reaching for my weapon, Death’s hands find either side of my face. He twists my neck violently and— Snap.
Death
I have taken countless lives over the ages. The young, the old, the strong and weak. I thought I had seen it all.
I had not.
I have never encountered a creature willing to die over and over again for her own kind. Not even my brothers were capable of this. We horsemen have all died more than once, but never for anything more tangible than our task.
Watching Lazarus pit herself against such insurmountable odds is unsettling.
Unsettling and beguiling.
I am eager to see her again.
Chapter 16
Kansas City, Missouri
December, Year 26 of the Horsemen
Lazarus
Things have changed between us. That much has become obvious.
The two of us face off on the streets of Kansas City, bodies and broken buildings scattered in all directions.