I reach for the wound, slicing myself on the exposed blade. Blood slips between my fingers, and it’s coming out … fast. Real fast.
Then Death is there, his body enveloping mine. He lowers us both to the ground, cradling me in his arms.
“Why, Lazarus?” he says, his voice breaking, “Why?” No longer is he remote and larger than life.
It takes effort to move my eyes to his.
“Someone … needed … to stop … you.”
Death’s wings come around us. The battle has been forgotten. Humanity and Judgement Day has been forgotten. All of it has been sidelined as he stares down at me.
He’s shaking his head. “You cannot stop me.”
I slump against him, a ragged sound slipping from my lips.
He presses a hand to my wound, and I gasp at the pain it elicits.
“I need to get this out,” he says, wrapping a hand around the hilt of the dagger.
I shake my head, but he isn’t listening.
Grimacing, I see his face grow resolved. Then— He pulls the blade from my chest.
I scream—or at least I try to. It comes out as an agonized moan, and blessedly, I black out.
“Kismet …”
I stir, pulled to wakefulness by that lamenting voice.
I blink my eyes open, and— Agony. Blazing, suffocating agony. It’s all I feel—that and the rivulets of blood soaking my chest as they leave my body.
“I’m sorry, Laz. It will be alright soon,” Thanatos vows. “It will be.”
He places a hand over the wound, and I hiss in a breath. Even that light touch is brutally painful.
I feel Death’s power brush against my skin. I wait for my flesh to warm and itch as my body stitches itself back together.
Only—
“It’s not working.” Panic laces the horseman’s voice.
The most powerful creature cannot heal me. I gasp up at him.
That desperate plea of mine, that bolt of light behind my eyes …
That was intercession.
It happens to humans all the time, but you’re all so blinded by your own perceptions of reality that you miss it. You miss the most potent forces of magic in your lives even when they unfold right before you.
I think … I think I have been made truly mortal.
Terror lances through me. I’ve never feared death before because I never actually stayed dead.
But this time around, this one feels like it’s going to take.
Oh God, I thought I’d have more time. Endless time.
I close my eyes, exhausted from the pain.
I want to say I’m at peace, but fuck, I feel like I’m leaving before the closing act.
“Thanatos,” I murmur. I blindly reach for his hand.
I especially don’t want to leave him. He’s all the reasons I want to live.
“Laz …”
Laz. I open my eyes at the intimacy of that name.
I meet Thanatos’s gaze. Fear fills his eyes. He’s afraid too. But it’s only death. It’s his most natural state.
“’S okay,” I breathe, even as I start to shiver.
He hold on me tightens. “No, Lazarus, I’m not going to let you go,” he vows.
“Life and death are lovers.” I remind him. “Nothing … changes that.” I squeeze his hand. “I love you,” I finally admit.
His expression crumbles. “No.” He says it like a plea, a tear slipping out from the corner of his eye.
My eyes begin to close.
“Lazarus, stay with me.”
But my stubborn body ignores his commands.
He kisses my lips, and even in that act I feel the desperate press of his power, willing me to live.
It makes no difference.
With that kiss, my breath stills, my heart stops, and I am finally, truly released.
Death
The moment my lips leave hers, I know.
She’s gone.
And for the first time since I met her, I feel her spirit untangle itself from her body.
No.
Lazarus’s immortality is not so different than ours. It can be removed.
It’s been removed.
In the distance Famine laughs, a wheezy, wet sound. I can’t think of a more inappropriate reaction.
“She made another deal behind your back, brother,” he says.
My breath catches as I stare down at my Lazarus.
Did you? I silently ask her.
But of course she must’ve. She couldn’t remove her immortality herself. And there is only one person who can freely take and give life.
God has forsaken me.
“Finally, you understand as we have all been made to understand,” Famine wheezes. “You cannot have both. You must make a choice.” Famine wheezes.