I roll to a stop on a darkened stretch of highway. There’s nothing out here but a thick line of trees running alongside the road.
I get off my bike, then let it topple to the ground. It feels meaningful, leaving that bike behind. I’ve always needed one to run after—or away from—the horseman. But I won’t be needing it anymore.
I almost sleep alongside the road just to make it easier for the horseman to find me, but until Death kills everyone, there are still highwaymen to worry about. So instead, I drag myself past the line of trees and press on through soggy grass. I trudge towards the dark outline of a tree I notice in the distance. The ground is damp here, just as it is everywhere else.
I let out a sigh. At this point, I’m too tired to care. I lean my back against the tree trunk and close my eyes. It takes a few exhausted minutes, but eventually I fall asleep.
I wake to the thunderous sound of fleeing animals and the sensation of death creeping in. I sit up only to feel the slap of bugs against my face as swarms of them pass by. I duck as best I can. As I do so, rats and other rodents scurry by, many of them scrambling over me in their mad dash.
Overhead, I hear the cries of birds, and I see hundreds—no, thousands—of them backlit against the rising sun.
He’s found me.
Faster than I expected, too.
The animals pass by, and I’m the only one left behind.
A light breeze rustles the wild grass, but other than that, the world is deafeningly quiet. That silence grows and grows until I swear it will swallow me up whole.
I stand, stepping out from under the tree. My pants are damp, the chill of the morning clinging to them.
The wet earth squishes beneath my boots as I cut across the marshy grass.
The pound of wingbeats has me stopping.
I don’t realize that I’ve reached for one of my blades until it’s in my hand. My muscles remember what my mind’s forgotten—that I’m used to the sound of those wings preceding a fight. For so long that was the sound that heralded battle, pain, and—many times—death.
Now, however, I’m not sure what to expect.
I swivel towards the noise and I see him high in the sky. Death, God’s last angel. He circles overhead, looking for me. I stare up at him, transfixed at this heavenly creature.
As though he can feel my gaze, the horseman pauses in the air, his armor shining painfully bright as the morning rays hit it. His wings beat at his back as his gaze falls to me. I feel that look like a finger down my spine.
It feels good to end the fighting and suffering between us. It feels right even though I know it’s wrong.
Death lowers himself to the earth. He lands fifty feet away, looking just as ancient and tragically mythical as he always has.
His eyes scour me. “Lazarus,” he says, “you have been busy.”
My skin goes a little clammy. I don’t know how much he already knows about Ben.
Thanatos tilts his head. “Where is your son?” he says, as though reading my mind. “Surely a grieving mother wouldn’t leave her child behind.”
I lift my chin, even as guilt and anguish press down on my chest. I still haven’t forgiven myself for letting the horsemen take Ben.
A cruel smile curves up the side of Thanatos’s mouth, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, how I’ve longed to see that battle-hardened look of yours. My fierce kismet, what have you done with the soul I was to collect?”
“Does it matter?” I say. “It’s not him you want.”
Death’s eyes burn as they look at me. “Lazarus,” His voice is stripped of all pretense, “it was his time.”
My throat works. So the horseman does know my son still lives.
“Your brothers didn’t feel the same way,” I say. “They made me the deal that you would not.”
Thanatos is quiet for a long moment.
“What did they bargain for?” he eventually asks. He voice holds a note of—something. I can’t place what.
I’m quiet.
Death’s jaw clenches. “For all they claim to love humanity, they wouldn’t just save a child slated to die. What did they ask for?” he demands.
I gaze at him for a long moment, and then, very deliberately, I drop my blade.
“I give up,” I say. “I will go with you—wherever you want.”
For a long moment Thanatos just stares at me, and I swear those deep, dark eyes see everything. Eventually, that gaze fills with heated triumph.
Death takes a single step forward, then another, and another, his silver armor clinking with the movement.
He reaches a hand to his shoulder, and piece by piece he removes that armor as he cuts across the field. His gaze remains fixed on mine the entire time.
He casts the last of his metal trappings aside right as he steps up to me.
I gaze up at him, feeling both fearful and laid bare.
He cups my cheek. “I’ve searched for you for a very long time,” Death says, his voice lethally soft. His eyes blaze. “I don’t intend to let you go.”
I swallow.
Cannot believe I’m doing this.
His gaze drops to my lips, just as they have many times before. But now he leans down, his mouth a hairsbreadth from mine.
“Now’s your last chance to run, Lazarus.”
I don’t run. I don’t retreat at all, my gaze transfixed to those expressive lips of his.
His eyes flick to mine and for the briefest of moments he smiles, looking both victorious and wicked. Then his mouth claims mine.
The shock of his kiss has me stumbling back, but Thanatos’s arm is there, first steadying me, then drawing me as close to him as he can, his fingers pressing into the small of my back.
His mouth moves against mine, and though I’ve kissed a dozen men and Death has likely kissed no one at all, the two of us feel evenly matched, his fire pitted against mine.
That’s about the moment I realize I am, in fact, kissing him back. I’m angry and terrified and lost, and my lips are doing battle with his more than anything else. But still. I am kissing him.
He smiles against my mouth, like he’s collecting this little victory, too. I feel that grin straight to my core.
Death bends just the slightest bit, so he can slip his arm behind my knees. A moment later he scoops me up, cradling my body against his.
I don’t see his wings spread wide, but I do feel his arms tighten around me.
And then Thanatos makes good on his long-held threat.
He takes me away.
Part II
Chapter 38
Orange, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
I grip Thanatos tightly as we rise higher and higher, my heart hammering in my chest.
I’ve given up and given in, and yet I still can’t banish the dread at being in Death’s arms. Everything about him was made to end lives, and this close to him I can feel the wrongness of my continued existence.
Not to mention that the last time he held me like this, he dropped me. And okay, that only happened after I stabbed him, but still, the thought seizes me up.
“You’re not going to let me fall again, are you?” I ask, my voice hushed.
His mouth brushes my ear, his breath warm and his voice low like a lover’s when he says, “Not on my life, Lazarus. That is behind us.”
Does he realize there’s sex in his voice? His words practically drip with it, and my body seems to awaken—my stomach fluttering and my core heating.
We fly for hours, my body clasped tight in Death’s arms. I assumed that even this all-powerful horseman would get fatigued trying to stay airborne while holding a full-grown woman, but I should’ve known better. The being that can kill off a city’s population in an instant is more than capable of whisking away one measly human.
All the while, I’m burning with questions for the horseman: Where is your horse? Where are you taking me? What happens now?