Drawing in a deep breath, he nods. “I can deny you little. Just please don’t make me regret this.”
I move through the house like a specter, Death at my side, my eyes skimming over the few southwestern-style decorations the skeletons didn’t remove from the home. But I’m not really seeing any of it, not when my senses are more focused on the metallic scrape of Death’s armor and the quieter rustle of his wings. His presence, even now, has my flesh prickling. It was so much easier in the bedroom, when skin met skin and we simply gave into the tension between us.
Now, however, … Thanatos was right to be nervous. I have no idea how to act or feel around him.
We cross the entryway, where revenants are already streaming in and out of the house, lugging barrels and boxes in their bony arms. The previously broken front door is propped open, its previously ripped out hinges repaired and reattached. As I catch sight of what lies beyond the open doorway, I suck in a breath.
What in the hell?
I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing, not until I actually step outside, the horseman at my back.
The last time I laid eyes on the house, I could see the terracotta-colored walls quite clearly. Now, they’re hidden beneath thick layers of dead vines.
“What is all this?” I ask.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the light getting dimmer over the last several days,” Thanatos says at my back.
No, I actually hadn’t. Just as I hadn’t noticed the home’s decorations. This is just one more thing I’ll have to file away under “Shit Lazarus Doesn’t Notice When She’s Boning a Hot Dude.”
But I’m not about to tell the horseman that.
I give Death a wide-eyed look. “Were you trying to keep me locked in here?”
“You think that’s what I’ve been doing this entire time?” he says, mirth in his eyes. He steps in close. “Kismet, there are a thousand ways I could force you to stay at my side. Why would I even bother intentionally sealing you inside this house when seducing you has proven to be far more successful—and pleasurable?”
I stiffen at that particular word. Seducing. I’m supposed to be seducing him, not the other way around. He’s just supposed to be blithely enjoying himself and dumbly falling under my spell. But to think that he’s been trying to seduce me? I don’t like that. Not one bit.
Thanatos continues, “I allowed myself to unleash my powers when I was inside you. That,” he nods to the dead vines, “is merely evidence of it.”
I face the vast front yard once more. I can’t see much—the vines have wound themselves into a makeshift wall in front of me, though it’s been cut away at. Death’s servants must’ve battered through it to gain access outside.
I step forward, my boots crunching over more dead vines and leaves that litter the ground.
It’s only once I get past the thick wall of vegetation that I notice bones scattered along the ground. They’re everywhere—some of them even have grotesque, fleshy bits still attached to them. They’re not moving—not like the other revenants that I can see even now in the driveway. Many of these bones don’t even look human. They do, however, smell God awful.
I put the back of my hand to my mouth.
Death steps up to my side. “As I said, I unleashed myself.”
He walks past me, whistling for his horse, as though that’s all that needs to be said on the subject. I stare after him. He literally brought the dead back to life when he fucked me. I’m … going to need some aftercare for that one.
Death’s steed trots over from the back of the house, and the horseman looks over his shoulder at me, waiting.
I take a deep breath and head over. I don’t look at Thanatos when I get to his side; instead, I pull myself into the saddle. Out here, beyond the vines that encircle the mansion, dozens of skeletons are loading up waiting wagons.
Thanatos hoists himself into the saddle behind me. He’s been eerily calm, considering his earlier anxiety, but now that he is pressed against me, I can feel his body trembling with the need to move.
Still, he pauses. “I want to stay here forever and forget everything else that gets in the way of this,” he admits.
But he cannot.
Yet, bones and vines aside— “I do, too,” I say quietly. Here, the world was not on fire. Here we were just lovers.
Death’s arm settles around me, holding me tight. He clicks his tongue and his horse takes off, galloping down the long driveway.
Despite our sentimental words, neither of us looks back.
We’ve only ridden about five miles or so down the road, when a realization hits me, robbing me of breath.
Death and I have been having sex.
Sex.
That comes with repercussions, repercussions I’ve ignored up until now because I’ve been too caught up in the horseman himself.
Feel like someone kicked me in the chest.
“Do you want children?” I ask carefully.
Death has been idly stroking my thigh up until now. At my words, his fingers pause.
“Why do you ask, kismet?” he says.
That’s not a no. There is, however, a note in his voice … one I can’t place.
“We’re having sex,” I’m trying to control the panic in my voice. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. “Sex leads to children.” I can barely hear my own words over the pound of my heartbeat. I can’t even say what I’m particularly petrified of.
“No,” he says softly, “it doesn’t. Not with me.”
It doesn’t?
I let out a shuddering breath. No children. I can rest easy.
Then I remember something else.
“But your brothers have families.”
“Ah,” Death says, understanding. “You think because they can get women pregnant that I can too?”
I mean … can’t he?
“Is it possible?” I say.
Thanatos is quiet for a long moment before answering. “Technically, yes. But I reign over death, kismet. That includes preventing the conception of life.”
I glance back at the horseman, open my mouth, then shut it again before facing forward once more. Alright. The man is shooting blanks. Got it.
I take a deep breath. “So I cannot get pregnant,” I say. I just need some affirmation.
“Not without my allowing it,” he says.
Allowing it?
So he can choose whether or not to be fertile? I make a face because that is way more information than I’m ready to process.
“And you won’t allow it,” I say. Just so we’re absolutely clear.
“I won’t,” he agrees.
I exhale, relaxing against the horseman once more.
Well, that’s one less thing to worry about at least.
After a long moment, Death asks, “Do you want children?”
“I already have a child,” I say.
“But would you want more? Would you want … my children?”
For several seconds, all either of us hear is the steady clop of his horse’s hooves.
“Lazarus?” he prods.
“No,” I admit.
At my back, I feel Death go preternaturally still.
“No?” he echoes. “Why not?” Again, something enters his voice, but I cannot tell what.
“Because you’re hell-bent on killing the world, and that makes you the absolute worst choice for a father,” I say.
“Heaven-bent,” he corrects icily.
Is he offended? Why? He literally just told me that the last thing he wants is kids.
I clear my throat. “It doesn’t matter anyway because like you said, it’s not happening.”
A tense silence falls over us. Despite all of his proud proclamations, I get the impression that the mighty Thanatos is actually hurt by my answer.
What a thought.
Chapter 50
Dripping Springs, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
We head north, retracing our long ago steps through Austin.
Or at least, what remains of it.
The buildings have fallen, and Death has to navigate us around debris scattered across the highway. I don’t see much of the damage up close since we never move onto city streets, but I don’t see another soul, living or dead.