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Death (The Four Horsemen #4)(112)

Author:Laura Thalassa

Okay, that sounded far creepier than intended.

However, the idea does cause Death to slow his horse.

“You would like me to watch some living humans for a span of time?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“How long?” he demands.

I don’t know. “Just a short while.”

“And then you will not fight me when I kill off this town?”

I swallow. “I’m never going to be comfortable with that,” I say. “But no, I won’t fight you,” I agree.

The horseman draws in a deep breath. “Alright,” he says. “Alright. I can do what you request.” He glances around. “Where do you want me to go?”

The truth is, I have no clue where to go. I hadn’t really planned this far in advance.

“Let’s find a neighborhood,” I say.

There aren’t many. Not in a town this small. Eventually, however, we do stumble across one. Most of the houses are dark, but then there’s one up ahead where I can see the flicker of candlelight. As we get closer, voices and intermittent laughter drift out.

I nearly sigh out my relief.

There was always the chance that I’d pick a house where the people inside hated one another. That would only further convince Thanatos of what he already believes—that humans are better off dead than alive.

“There,” I say, pointing to the house in question.

We ride up to it, then dismount. It’s a single story ranch house, with a decorative rock chimney and a low-lying fence. Even on a dark and rainy night, lingering outside someone’s house is a great way to draw attention.

Taking Death’s hand, I lead him over to the gate. Silently, I unlatch it and lead the two of us through, heading towards the backyard.

Back here, I can see more light flickering from inside. The curtains aren’t closed, and I draw Thanatos over to an out-of-the-way window that peers into the home’s living room.

Inside, a family appears to be winding down for the night. One boy and two girls are sprawled out on the floor, playing a board game. An older boy is curled up on a side chair, reading a book. Their parents sit close together on the couch, each of them drinking amber liquid out of mason jars. The woman’s legs are thrown over her husband’s lap as the two of them chat.

The horseman looks at me. “What now?”

“Just … watch them for a little while,” I say.

He frowns at me, water dripping from his dark hair. He extends one of his dark wings, shielding me from the worst of the rain, which is still pelting at our skin.

I glance up at the sky. “You can let up with the rain.”

“Must I?” he says. “I do so like the way your clothing molds to your skin, kismet.”

“Thanatos.”

The corner of his mouth curves up. “You’re only upset because I have armor on and you cannot enjoy the same sight.”

A ridiculous laugh slips out, one that I have to bite back immediately. But when no one inside glances out the window, I know that nobody heard me.

Still, I give the horseman a friendly push. He sways a little, but uses his wing to nudge me into him. I fall against him, and he wraps an arm around me, capturing me in a kiss.

As his lips move against mine, the rain tapers off, then stops completely.

Death breaks off the kiss. “I do still intend to make you wet again later.”

“Stop it,” I whisper, a flush creeping up my cheeks.

He grins, but turns his attention back to the family.

Their evening is pretty mundane, and yet next to me, the horseman has gone still, his focus riveted to the family.

The parents chat quietly while the kids on the ground argue about the rules of the game they’re playing. The boy overturns the game board and then his sister is crying and running over to their mother, who gives her a hug and consoles her.

The oldest boy, who has been peacefully reading on the couch, now uses this moment to grab a pillow and whack his younger brother. The boy topples over, but before he can react more, their dad grabs another pillow and whacks the oldest boy. Pretty soon the crying stops and the entire family just has an impromptu pillow fight.

I feel my throat close up. This could’ve been me and my family ten years ago if you added a few kids in there. There’s no grand proclamations of love, but it’s so obvious in the silly, familiar way they interact with each other.

The pillow fight ends with the mother tickling her kids and her husband throwing one of them up into the air and catching them—and now all the rest of the siblings are clamoring around their dad, begging to be tossed up as well.