Death’s jaw clenches.
I begin to walk again, uncaring that I’m going to have to brush past him.
“No,” he says, his wings flaring. “I won’t let you go.”
I throw my hands into the air.
“So you want your human experience and you want your heavenly task,” I say. “And I suppose you want me to just shut up and go along with it all.”
He takes a step forward. “This is beyond me—”
“Stop,” I say. “Stop this whole ‘I’m not a human,’ ‘This is beyond me,’ ‘I’m just following orders.’ You have mocked your brothers for making a decision—”
“The wrong decision,” he corrects me.
“At least they made one. Meanwhile, here you are, thinking that you can play house with me while you end the world? You are the biggest hypocrite.”
“What would you have me do?” he demands, his voice like thunder.
I could tear my hair out. “Make a goddamned decision for once in your life!” I say hotly. “And don’t do it for me—or even God. Do it for yourself. You. You’re evil and loving and gentle and merciless and refined and na?ve and wise and complicated. That’s the human in you. Stop pretending it’s not there and acknowledge it.”
He stares at me for a long time, his jaw working.
And this is the tale of how I, Lazarus Gaumond, fucked over the world.
“I am unbending because I am old,” he admits. “I am uncompromising because I have always—always had to be this way. No one escapes death. No one.”
Except for me. Though, considering my situation, one might argue that I haven’t actually escaped death at all.
“But,” Thanatos continues, seeming to weigh his words, “I hear what you’re saying. I have not questioned my own assumptions. I have not thought to until now, when you have asked it of me.” He nods. “I will try. I will do this for you.”
We spend a long moment staring at one another.
“I will not promise humanity some happy ending,” he says, his dark eyes sad. “I cannot give you that. But I can give you happiness. I want to give you that. So, Lazarus,” he says carefully, “what would make you happy?”
It takes me a moment to actually process this turn in the conversation. He actually wants to give me something. Unbendable Death is trying to bend.
I regain my composure.
“Ben,” I finally say, finding my voice. “Ben is what would make me happy.”
“Your son,” Death says carefully. “You would like him by your side?”
“Alive and by my side.” My heart pounds madly. Why am I even entertaining this? It’s a mad, mad idea.
I see Thanatos swallow delicately, and that muscle in his cheek flexes again. Shit, that reaction alone means that he’s serious.
“Then once we hit the West Coast,” Death says carefully, “we will travel north and get your son.”
I can’t breathe, I’m choking on my own hope.
“And then what?” I force the words out.
“And then your son will be with you, with us—alive and well—until the very end.”
I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel the tear slip off my cheek.
Across from me, Death’s harsh features soften.
In several long strides he closes the distance between us. Reaching out, he brushes away my tears.
“Is this a good cry or a bad one?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“A good one,” I admit softly.
Ben won’t die.
I pull away. “I thought …” The words catch in my throat, “I thought you made no exceptions about killing humans.” As much as I want to see Ben again—to hold him again—I want him alive more.
“You have asked me to bend. This is bending, right?”
I don’t know what it is, but I don’t much care, either. The thought of having Ben back in my arms has my knees going weak.
Death seems to sense it too.
He scoops me up like he’s some valiant hero and I’m some helpless maiden. And for a moment, I can believe in that fairytale.
“Come, kismet,” he says, walking us back to his horse. “Let’s make good on my vow.”
Now that I have another goal besides seducing Death, I’m more impatient than ever to get to my son. So when, midafternoon, Thanatos leads his horse off the road, I’m jumpy to get back on it.
“I don’t need to go to the bathroom,” I say, assuming that’s the reason we left the highway.