“Thanatos,” I gasp.
A few of the felled lamps still glow, and the flames flare brighter as the fire follows the trail of spilled kerosene. It casts an ominous orange glow on the buildings—which are thankfully still standing.
“You have forbidden me to kill,” he says. “This is all I have left.”
I give him a look over my shoulder. I hope he knows he sounds ridiculous.
Death meets my gaze as rain begins to fall, going from a sprinkle to a torrent in seconds. It washes away the kerosene, effectively snuffing out the streetlights. And completely drenching the both of us in the process.
“Are you doing that?” I ask, narrowing my gaze as the rain comes down faster and faster.
“I’m not too keen on any stray humans catching sight of me.”
Ah, now the broken streetlamps make sense.
I frown. “And I’m not too keen about getting wet.”
I can barely make out the smile spreading across the horseman’s face. “Oh, but I disagree, kismet. Given the right circumstances, I think you very much enjoy getting wet.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, his meaning clear.
Death pulls me in close. “But, if you are uncomfortable, I could peel off your soaked clothes and kiss the wetness from your skin,” he breathes. “Simply ask, and it will be done.”
My God.
I actually consider his proposition. That’s how hopeless I am.
“Why don’t you find us a place to stay in for the night? Then we can discuss … the rest of that offer.”
“Fine,” he agrees, his lips brushing my ear, “I’ll find us a house if you focus on staying wet.”
“Thanatos.”
How has he already become dirtier than me?
Death lets out a husky laugh, then urges his horse onwards. It’s hard to see anything now that the lamps lay broken and scattered across the ground. I notice a few dimly lit houses, and there are even one or two with someone peering out the window, probably wondering what happened to the lamplight. But the rain keeps them in and hopefully the night hides Death’s identity from them.
I shiver a little, my body soaked through with rainwater. The horseman clutches me closer to him, and his wings move forward, wrapping around the sides of the horse. It looks like an awkward position to hold, but he keeps them there, and they drive off the chill.
Down a street to our right, I hear someone’s voice carry over— “I don’t know why Coco’s acting this way, she’s never done this before.”
That’s when I notice that over the pounding rain, there’s frantic, almost pained barking.
The animals sense Death.
We’ve gone another quarter mile when the horseman says, “You have bested me, Lazarus.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You do not want to stay in an abandoned house, but you do not want me to kill the town until we have passed through it, so I cannot take one of the occupied homes either. I am at a loss for what to do.”
My heart pounds. He’s right, though I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. Of course, there’s still always the option of camping, though I’m not about to suggest that while it’s raining.
“I’m fine staying in an abandoned house—”
“Liar.”
“I am,” I insist. “You can even do all those dirty things you were fantasizing about a minute ago—”
“Really, my kismet?” he says, sounding blatantly unconvinced. “You would happily get intimate if you were lying on moldering flooring, the stink of rotting walls and wet vermin around you?”
When he puts it like that …
“As I thought.”
“I’m sure not every abandoned house is that terrible.”
“You think I’m willing to take the chance?” he laughs, even as he prods his steed into a full gallop. “I will ride through this city, then end it, then find us a place to stay.”
“Wait,” I say, even as Death’s horse continues to gallop. I want this man to see a little bit of what humans are like. “We can do it your way, but please, we’re already here. Let’s at least stop at a house for a moment so I can show you what life looks like.”
“You wish to introduce me to some hapless family?” he says, aghast at the idea. As though his job doesn’t have him brushing elbows with countless souls all the damn time.
I guess living souls are very different than dead ones.
“No,” I say, “I just meant that we could peer in on someone.”