The corner of his mouth curves up. “Will you now?”
As he speaks, he reaches down. Taking one iron cuff into his hands, he pries it apart, freeing one of my wrists. Then he takes the other cuff and rips it, too, apart before tossing the broken manacles aside. The sight of his staggering strength has me sucking in a panicked breath.
I keep forgetting the two of us are not equals, not when it comes to raw power.
Once Thanatos has removed my handcuffs, he reaches for the shackles at my feet.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He glances up at me, and Death kneeling before me should not look nearly so appealing.
“I’m freeing you.” As though to make his point, he rips one of the cuffs apart.
“Why?”
“Would you prefer that I just leave you here?” he asks, grabbing the last remaining cuff. He pulls on it, and with a groaning snap the metal is torn apart.
The horseman rises then, towering over me once more.
“So, you’re going to let me go?” I ask carefully.
He gives me a sensuous look that I feel deep in my core. “Surely you haven’t forgotten my parting vow.”
So Thanatos does plan on taking me. I don’t exactly know what that entails, but I imagine it means I’ll no longer be able to warn cities of his approach. And though I may be tired of all of this, I’m not ready to call it quits.
“I’m sorry they turned on you,” he says earnestly.
I draw in a deep breath. “They might’ve turned on me, but they didn’t hurt me.” Unlike you.
I don’t want either of us to forget who the true villain in this situation is.
The horseman’s gaze meets mine, and he gets it. I can tell he gets it. But he offers no apologies or excuses.
Death’s hand moves to the rope at my neck. His knuckles brush the underside of my jaw as he grips it, and I think he’s realizing this is the moment. The moment he takes me. I can see the triumph already in his eyes.
He rips apart the rope, and I am free.
Quick as lightning I shove the heel of my palm into his nose, just like a female officer a dozen towns ago showed me how to do.
Death’s head snaps back, and I use the momentary distraction to turn tail and run. I sprint towards the freshly dead officers who lie forty yards away, just to the side of the highway. Surely one of them has a weapon I can defend myself with.
Thwump—thwump—thwump.
Thanatos’s wings echo behind me as he takes to the air.
Don’t look back. I want to badly, but I know the horseman’s closing in on me, and any misstep might mean the difference between capture and escape.
Up ahead I recognize Officer Jones sprawled out on the dead grass. He has a couple blades strapped to his waist, if only I can get to him.
I push my legs as hard as I can, even as Death’s wingbeats get louder as he draws near. Only twenty feet remain. Fifteen. Ten.
Thanatos is so close that each flap of his wings blows my hair about.
Five feet.
I feel the brush of his fingertips as he reaches for me. I slide the last several feet like I’m hitting home plate. Officer Jones is right next to me, his holstered weapons within arm’s reach. I manage to pull out two wicked-looking daggers when Thanatos’s arms close around me. He pulls me back against his chest.
“How I have awaited this moment,” Death whispers in my ear.
An instant later, he leaps from the ground with me locked in his arms.
Christ above.
I kick out at nothing but air as we rise from the highway.
“Thanatos, put me down,” I demand, panic lacing my voice.
“It’s too late for that, kismet.”
It’s not too late for anything.
I swivel around best I can in Death’s arms, swinging my newly acquired blades.
Immediately he catches the knife in my right hand and jerks it out of my hold, tossing it aside.
Distantly I hear it clatter below us, but I have no time to look because the horseman is already reaching for my second blade. It’s in my less dominant hand, which makes striking him hard. But it’s also just out of Death’s reach. He tries to switch the arm holding me.
“Let—me—go.” I kick out at him as we rise higher and higher. I know without looking below me that I will see bodies. Many, many bodies.
Even as we tussle, I can hear the shriek and groan of buildings collapsing. One after another after another. The entire gleaming city of Austin is falling to ruin.
“I won’t,” Thanatos swears. “You might as well stop struggling.”
“You cannot just kidnap me!”
“Says the woman who first took me captive.”
We must now be over a hundred feet from the ground and we’re still rising.
Thanatos is still grappling for my knife. “Enough, Lazarus,” he says. “This is too high for battle.”
I don’t intend to fight the horseman this high up, but I don’t intend to give him my weapon either. If I lose it, I will be totally at his mercy.
That is a fate I don’t wish to dwell on.
I swing my arm backwards to evade his. It’s only after the dagger has sunk into soft flesh and I hear Death’s pained grunt that I realize my mistake. In my panic, I actually struck him.
I don’t realize just how bad, however, until the horseman’s grip loosens. As quick as sucking in a breath I begin to fall.
“No,” he gasps out, trying to recapture me. But his hands fumble over my arms, and I slip through them.
And then I’m really falling.
The wind shoves my shocked cry back down my throat. Why couldn’t I have just dropped the blade? I had to fight to the bitter end, didn’t I? And now I screwed myself over doing so.
Above me the horseman bellows, and as my body twists in the air, I finally see him.
Death’s diving for me, a determined look in his eyes. He extends an arm, though he’s several feet above me.
“Lazarus!” It’s hard to hear him over the wind. “Take my hand!”
For once, I reach for him in earnest.
He’s catching up to me, and I’m straining to grasp his hand. The distance closes between us, and my fingers brush his bloody ones.
So close.
Death’s eyes move to something below me, and I see them widen.
Dear God.
I don’t want to die. Not like this. I was a fool about the dagger. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t want it to end like this.
“Lazarus!”
I strain for his hand. “Thanatos.”
I don’t want to die. I don’t want—
My head cracks against something and everything goes dark.
Chapter 18
Austin, Texas
December, Year 26 of the Horsemen
I wake slowly, my eyelids peeling themselves apart. I stare up at the sky from inside a partially collapsed building. Half of the ceiling has caved in, and judging by the ache at my back, I’m lying on what remains of it.
I begin to move, then choke as blinding pain stabs through me.
I glance down at my torso. Just above my bellybutton, a thick metal bar juts upwards. I choke again, this time more from horror than anything else.
I’ve been impaled.
I move my arms—those seem to have mostly healed, though they’re covered in bruises—and try to push myself up— I scream as pain lacerates through me and flop back down.
I pant as I stare at the blue sky far above me.
Jesus.
I can’t die, and I’m stuck.
If there’s a hell, then this is it.
I cry out, I moan, but nobody hears me. The hours go by, day gives way to night, then night gives way to day. On and on it goes.
My stomach cramps from hunger, my lips crack from thirst, yet still I stay pinned to the ground. I sob on and off for some time, mostly because I realize I am so fucked.
So, so fucked.
I don’t know where Thanatos is, or what state he’s in. Maybe he hurt himself as well. Or maybe he didn’t; maybe he simply saw my skewered body and thought leaving me was better than capturing me.
I don’t know why that particular possibility hurts my heart as much as it does.
The next day ticks by. I can smell the dead on the wind, I can hear the baying of wild dogs and the screeches of circling birds. None of the scavengers have found me—yet.