Most of all, I want to ask him whether he left my son alone once he realized Ben was healed. But I’m terrified of drawing the horseman’s attention back to Ben in case my son is alright. I can’t imagine Death likes being robbed a soul.
I focus my attention on the world below me, just to distract myself. It’s hard to see much with my hair whipping about and the wind stinging my eyes, but I do catch some glimpses. Mostly the land is a patchwork of fields with a few houses speckled like freckles across a face. Every so often, however, I see cities—or, in some grim cases, the remains of them. The latter look like a gray smudge on the landscape, the buildings torn down, the roads covered with debris. I bet if I looked hard enough, I’d see bodies too. I don’t bother.
These are the places Death has claimed.
And now he’s claiming you.
At some point I sense us lowering. Beneath us is a massive city, one that Death has already destroyed. We pass mile after mile of leveled buildings. I spot certain bits of topography—the curve of a residential street, the blue sheen of a pool, the spire of a church—but everything else is nearly unrecognizable.
Why is Death bringing me here?
Because we are still lowering.
Almost begrudgingly the broken buildings give way to wider and wider stretches of greenery. Unlike the city behind us, the few structures I spot in this area are intact. I don’t have time to wonder why that is before manicured yards are blurring by beneath our feet.
With a final whoosh, we land in one of these yards. Death takes a few final strides forward before his wings snap shut behind him.
All around us is brilliant green lawn. My eyes move up, past the verdant gardens and towards the massive mansion that sits proudly before us. It gleams bright as a diamond and appears extraordinarily out of place amongst all the death and destruction we just flew over.
Almost reluctantly, Death sets me down. I take a few stumbling steps forward, feeling like a colt trying to find their balance for the first time.
I glance over at Death, his black wings looking like a cape at his back. Without his armor, there’s something vulnerable about him. Or maybe it’s simply that he doesn’t look ready to do battle.
I draw in a deep breath, realizing that it’s all coming back to me. That year of fighting him, studying him, trying to figure out what his weaknesses were. I’m falling right back into it, as though my time with Ben were merely a dream, and this, my reality.
The ground beneath my feet trembles, interrupting my thoughts. Then, all around the vast perimeter of the house, monstrous, thorned plants rise, growing and twisting until they create a massive, living wall.
“That looks painfully familiar,” I say.
Death is all cold, hard edges as he stares at me. How had I thought there was something vulnerable about him?
“I told you, I’m not letting you go again.”
“I’m not planning on running.”
“Ah, yes, because you have a deal to uphold.”
The two of us gaze at each other for several seconds. We have so much baggage between us. Literally, cities’ worth.
“You hid from me for half a year,” he says.
My brows pull together ever so slightly. I think that fact actually upsets him. Even though it meant that he could rampage towns without having to worry about facing me. And yet what did he do? He hunted me down like an animal.
It hits me then.
Death spent all that time searching for me instead of wiping out new parts of the United States.
For the first time since I made a deal with Death’s brothers I suddenly see the situation with clarity. I have altered Thanatos’s motives.
“You stopped chasing me,” he adds, accusation threading his voice.
“I had to,” I say. “You would’ve killed my son if I didn’t.”
“Your son,” he repeats, and I can hear the question in his voice. The horseman might not know much about humans, but I think he knows enough to be confused by the timeline here. The last he saw of me, I didn’t look pregnant, but now I have a son, one who is well over a year old.
Now that the topic of Ben has come up, my worries resurface.
“Is my son—is he—is he … ?” Dead? It’s the question I wasn’t supposed to ask, but it came tumbling out anyway.
Thanatos’s eyes are flinty. “No.” He grimaces. “Your son is alive.”
“He’s alive?” My knees want to give out.
I see so much self-loathing on the horseman’s face.
Because he didn’t take my son’s soul, I realize. Death could’ve—and clearly he thinks he should’ve—but he didn’t. Because that soul meant something to me.
I let out a small noise, and then I am closing the distance between us.
Death gives me a confused look, but before he can do more than that, I grab his face. Without thinking twice about it, I press a harsh, grateful kiss to his lips. I can taste his shock.
Thanatos doesn’t have time to react before I’m pulling away.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice hoarse. I still hold his face captive, and we’re still only inches apart, and it’s close enough to see his rising desire. The look wars with his own guilt, but his eyes flick to my lips, and I see a little more of that guilt retreat.
“Thank you,” I say again, drawing his gaze back up to mine.
His jaw clenches, but he nods his head ever so subtly.
I drop my hands and move away. Those walls I’ve built to keep him out, they came down there for a few seconds, but even now I can feel them building themselves back up. I don’t need to put those walls back in place, all things considered, but I can’t help it. Over the last year, they’ve become comfortable.
I take a deep breath. “So,” I say, clearing my throat. “How did you find me and my son in that hospital room?” I ask, trying to bring the conversation back to something civil.
“I sense the living, but I can only see through the eyes of the dead and dying,” Thanatos says. “When your son began dying,”—I flinch at the word—“he invited me in. I peered through his eyes—and that’s when I saw you. I flew as fast as I could, and I believe you know the rest of the story.”
And now that I know my son is safe, I can truly breathe easy. All that’s left now is to navigate this new path I’ve been placed on.
I turn my attention to the house.
An elaborate driveway lined with hedges cut into pleasing shapes leads to the massive home. Pale pink roses climb up a portion of the house and there appears to be more of them enclosed in a nearby garden. Amongst all the foliage there’s an oxidized statue of a boy playing a flute, the calcium deposits along its body suggesting that it was once a fountain, though it doesn’t look to be working at the moment.
A lion’s head is mounted above the entryway and a circular room fitted with a stained glass window rests to one side of the house. And then of course are the other windows, which are so large, they seem to have no end.
I’ve never been anywhere near such a magnificent house.
“Shall I show you inside?” Death says.
That’s when I realize that while I’ve been studying the house, he’s been studying me, watching me with those eyes that see too much.
My attention shifts to him. “We’re staying here?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Does it displease you?” Thanatos responds.
It’s the most breathtaking place I’ve ever seen.
I’m caught in the web of his gaze. I have no idea what he would do if I told him, yes, this place displeases me. Probably drag me inside anyway, the heathen.
But it doesn’t displease me. Not much about this situation displeases me, except for the fact that I’ve been forced to part with Ben, and I have no idea when I’ll see him again. That aside, I am unnerved by how much of me is okay with being dragged away by some ancient death deity who’s killing off the world and now wants to shack up with me.
“We’re really going to do this again?” I say, trying to shake the strange, uneasy feeling I have.
“Would you prefer that I travel ceaselessly, forcing you to never stop, never rest?” he asks. “Because I would prefer that.”