I spin, facing down Pestilence.
For a moment, I forget about all of the bad blood I have with this horseman.
“You’re here to stop Death?” I say, disbelieving. I mean, they’re the Four Horsemen. All of them are here to destroy our world.
I search his gaze. “Why would you—any of you—” I gesture vaguely to the house where the other two men are, “want that?”
Pestilence sighs. “It’s a long story. One that Famine, War and I are willing to tell you, if you’ll listen.”
I search his face as rain drips from my hair and my lashes. He sounds truthful, and if he is, then … perhaps Thanatos could be stopped, permanently.
I ignore the way dread coils inside me at that thought. Death needs to be stopped. This is bigger than me and my feelings.
Then I remember who exactly it is I’m talking to. This is the horseman who wiped out my first hometown.
“Why do you think I would want to help you?” I say. “You killed my parents.” My voice breaks over that old wound. I have witnessed more recent, more painful deaths at the hands of Thanatos, but oh how I have made him pay for them.
This horseman, on the other hand, he robbed me of the life I might’ve had, and now he wants my help? Because of him, I’ll never know the parents who brought me into the world, I’ll never get to hug them or memorize their faces or learn about who they were and where I came from. And though that life would mean erasing the one I did grow up with—a life full of love and laughter—it’s still a future that was stolen from me all the same.
Pestilence looks taken aback. His eyes search my face anew.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and there is genuine remorse there. I wish I couldn’t sense it.
I work my jaw and look away, suddenly overwhelmed by this confrontation.
“I was a different … man then,” he continues. “Probably not so different from how Death is now.
“We horseman can change our ways. All of us have changed our ways—except for Death. And unfortunately for you and the rest of humanity, he’s the one horseman who gets the final say on whether you all live or die.
“That’s why the three of us, including that odious beast you know as Famine—”
“I heard that, asshole!” the Reaper calls from just inside the house.
“—are here, looking for Death,” Pestilence continues smoothly. “We want to stop him—we are going to stop him. But we could really, really use your help. And I am truly sorry. I cannot bring your parents back, but perhaps together, we can spare many other families the same fate.”
I need to sit. My legs don’t feel like they want to support my bodyweight any longer.
“You’re really trying to stop Thanatos?” I say softly.
I can’t believe it.
“We really are,” he says.
His words—and his apology—hang heavy in the air between us. I don’t want to forgive him—and I don’t want to work with him—but this last year has forced me to deal with all sorts of impossible, horrible circumstances. Hell, I just spent the night in the arms of Death himself, the man responsible not just for my family’s death, but for everyone’s demise.
Pestilence gives me a long look. “Please, come back inside—” He pauses, leaving an opening for me to say my name.
I size the horseman up, not entirely sure that getting my hands dirty in whatever mess they’re up to is a great idea.
Better than staying Death’s unwilling captive.
“Lazarus,” I finally say. “My name’s Lazarus.”
Pestilence smiles.
“Lazarus,” he repeats. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” He nods back to the house. “As soon as you’re ready to get out of the rain, my brothers and I have a lot to tell you, and I don’t think we have much time.”
Chapter 27
Pleasanton, Texas
January, Year 27 of the Horsemen
They do share their story. It all comes tumbling out like some horrible nightmare. How these horsemen came to earth and broke our technology. How they went back into the ground, only to arise again like cicadas. Each one of them has traveled the world, determined to eradicate us all. But each of them changed their minds somewhere along the way.
And, in every single case, a woman was responsible for that.
I realize now why they care so much about my relationship with Death.
“So you see,” War eventually says, sitting back on his haunches as rain plinks on the roof above us, “we cannot let him succeed, and not just because we love our wives and our children.”
Famine stands next to him, arms folded, glowering.
Pestilence adds, “We gave up our immortality and the vast extent of our powers because we believe that despite our task, humans are worthy of living.”
Famine huffs, glancing away.
“Ignore him,” War says. “He’s still bitter that Death didn’t find his motives pure enough to strip him of his immortality.”
“Humans are retched,” Famine says. “I don’t know why I must change my mind about that first.”
I sit on the edge of the worn recliner, reeling from it all.
“Where are these families of yours?” I ask. “The ones you’re fighting for?” It’s obvious enough that they aren’t here.
“Far, far away,” War says, his eyes sharp. One of his hands fists, and I notice with fascination that on each knuckle there are red, glowing markings. “And it will remain that way until Death is dealt with.”
His words draw my attention back to his face.
Dealt with sounds so ominous and final.
“What are you planning on doing to Thanatos?” I ask. It comes out as a whisper.
“Whatever we must,” War says grimly.
Famine breaks away from the group, striding over to the open doorway.
“And you want my help?” I say slowly.
Pestilence nods.
I can barely form the next words. “What would you have me—?”
“War, Pestilence—” Famine interrupts.
“Victor,” Pestilence corrects.
“I don’t care about your fuckwit name. Death’s coming.”
“Oh, so now you know where he is?” I say.
Famine gives me a dark look over his shoulder. He turns to his brothers. “You two need to leave.”
Pestilence—Victor—and War are quiet, but neither of them makes a move to leave.
Famine exhales loudly. “Must I be the sentimental one? You two need to go, now. You’re mortal,” the Reaper reminds them. “This is a fight you’ll lose, and today is no longer the day we make our move.”
My eyes leap from man to man, even as a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t know who I’m more concerned for—Death, or these three.
Reluctantly, War and Pestilence head out front, where their horses wait. The rain is beginning to come down harder, and for once, I’m legitimately grateful to be in this rotting house.
“I’ll come for you,” Famine calls out to them, “after I have a little chat with our brother.”
I get chills at the threat in the Reaper’s words.
“So you’re going to face him alone?” I ask.
The Reaper turns back to me reluctantly. “Would you care to join me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows skeptically.
“I have fought that man more times than I can count. I’m happy to sit this one out.” After a moment, I add, “Can you kill Thanatos—for good?”
A mean little smile spreads across Famine’s face. “Does that frighten you, tootsie?”
“I swear if you call me that again, I will take off my boot and clobber you with it.”
The Reaper folds his arms and leans back against a nearby wall. “Try it,” he says, lifting his chin. “I dare you.” His eyes promise vengeance.
Famine is different from his brother, Death. Thanatos might be violent, but there’s no anger to it. He seems grimly resigned to his duty, which makes him and his task all the more frustrating, but at least he doesn’t relish it. Unlike this deviant. I bet Famine loves killing. He looks as though he does.
Before either of us can say anything else, I hear the familiar, dreaded thump of wings.
Excitement sparks in Famine’s eyes. “Is that your boyfriend I hear?” he says, tilting his head.