He strikes something raw and real, and it hurts.
“I would hunt down my enemies too if I knew they were bent on destroying all that I cherished.” He has an intense look as he says that.
I swallow. “You have a lot of perception for a man who isn’t even human.” I don’t know that many people can empathize this well.
Death exhales, still staring at me. “I have had hours alone to think about it all.”
“But it changes nothing,” I say quietly—almost questioningly.
“But it changes nothing,” he agrees.
“I still intend to stop you,” I say. Just in case he’s forgotten.
“I know,” Death agrees, his eyes sad.
Now it’s my turn to exhale, the easy, uncomplicated morning dissipating away. Thinking of humanity reminds me of Ben, and all I must do to save him for good.
I have a plea for Thanatos, one I want to make so badly it hurts. But being in this man’s bed changes nothing—he said so himself—and I am afraid of drawing his attention in this particular direction.
“What is it, Lazarus?” he asks. “You look as though a cloud has covered the sun—what troubles you?”
I stare into Death’s strange and complex eyes and I come to a decision.
“I spent an entire year hiding from you, all to keep my son alive,” I say.
Thanatos’s face grows solemn.
“Can you promise me that you won’t kill him?” I whisper.
“Kismet,” he says, “I take everyone. Not even your son is exempt from that fate—but I have no plans to take him any time soon.”
I nearly choke on my relief, even as a part of me now wants to analyze the horseman’s definition of soon.
I grab Death’s hand and clasp it tightly in mine. “Promise me you won’t.”
I’m supposed to be seducing Death for humanity’s sake, but I’ve always placed Ben’s life above the greater good. I’m not about to grow magnanimous all of a sudden.
A line forms between the horseman’s brows.
“I will do anything you like.” I press in closer as I speak.
Death’s nostril’s flare and his jaw clenches with his restraint. “Stop it, Lazarus. I don’t make deals like that.” Even though he wants to. He definitely wants to.
He’s still unbending on this. I try not to let that worry me—but it does. Sleeping with him was supposed to soften him. What do I do if it doesn’t?
You spent a year battling this man into changing his ways. You can spend a year banging the change out of him. Have a little patience, Laz.
“Tell me about your Ben,” Thanatos says. “That night in the hospital, you said you thought he was deathless, like you. Why did you think that?”
I shudder out a breath. “The first time you took me captive, shortly after I escaped, I came across a nearby town …” I fall back into the memory. “The people were all dead, but the structures still stood.” I can still feel the chill sting of the rain and the desperation that pushed me onwards. “I only meant to stop long enough for supplies, but then I heard a baby crying inside one of the homes.”
My eyes meet Death’s. “Ben survived your attack on the town.”
The horseman listens raptly, though now his lips pull down into a slight frown. “That’s impossible,” he murmurs, even though I can tell he believes me.
“You thought my survival was impossible too,” I say.
Thanatos inclines his head.
I draw in a breath, and continue. “So I took Ben, and I fled from you.”
I run my teeth over my lower lip, lost in thought. “The truly strange thing,” I admit, “is that it is nearly identical to how my mother found me two decades ago.”
I swear the horseman’s gaze sharpens on me.
“How so?” he asks.
“My mother discovered me in a town that Pestilence had ridden through. She’d heard my cries as she was passing through, just as I heard Ben’s, and she saved me and took me in as one of her own.”
Death looks troubled by this information, but before either of us can say anything more, movement out of the corner of my eye has me jolting. Without thinking, I clutch Death close to me.
I feel the horseman gaze down at me as he pulls me in deeper.
“It’s only my revenants,” he says as the skeletons in question move through the room, hauling a chest. “I wanted to wait until you were awake before I had them bring in your things.”
I sit up, keeping myself covered with a blanket—even though the only other person in this room who has actual eyes is Death, and he’s already seen his fill. I watch as more skeletons enter and fill the closet and bathroom up with clothes and amenities.