“Thanat—” Just as I’m turning to face him, my hand reaching for my weapon, Death’s hands find either side of my face. He twists my neck violently and— Snap.
Death
I have taken countless lives over the ages. The young, the old, the strong and weak. I thought I had seen it all.
I had not.
I have never encountered a creature willing to die over and over again for her own kind. Not even my brothers were capable of this. We horsemen have all died more than once, but never for anything more tangible than our task.
Watching Lazarus pit herself against such insurmountable odds is unsettling.
Unsettling and beguiling.
I am eager to see her again.
Chapter 16
Kansas City, Missouri
December, Year 26 of the Horsemen
Lazarus
Things have changed between us. That much has become obvious.
The two of us face off on the streets of Kansas City, bodies and broken buildings scattered in all directions.
“I have been thinking,” Thanatos says, his boots crunching over shattered glass. “We could stop fighting.”
“We could,” I agree, gripping my knife tighter. My other blade is now in Death’s hand. “You only have to end the killing.”
His eyes flash. “I cannot. You know I cannot.”
The horseman begins to circle me.
“So what you’re really asking is for me to stop defending humanity,” I say, turning my body with him so that my back is never exposed.
Out of nowhere, the horseman lunges forward, and I have to leap out of the way. Despite the chill air, sweat drips down my chest.
“It is as useless a task as it is thankless,” Death says, retreating back a step.
I rush forward as he moves away, swinging my knife.
Clang. The short blades meet.
Death leans his weight against our locked weapons, forcing me down to a knee.
“It’s not thankless,” I pant. I drop my free hand to the ground. There are pebbles and shards of glass and other debris dusting the road. My hand closes around a fistful of it. “Sometimes I best you, and that is very, very gratifying.”
I fling the rubble at his face, causing him to stumble back, his blade sliding from mine with a zing.
Dropping my own knife, I dive towards him, catching the horseman by one of his ankles.
He trips, then falls.
Before he has a chance to get up, I crawl over to the horseman, and then, hesitating only a moment, I pull myself onto him, swinging a leg over his torso.
I’m breathing heavily, my chest rising and falling with my exertion.
For a moment, Thanatos looks bewildered. He expects my attacks; what he doesn’t expect is to find me sitting astride him, weaponless.
Well, nearly weaponless.
“What are you doing?” Death demands.
I lean forward, grabbing one of his wrists.
Death’s gaze unwittingly moves to my cleavage, which is more on display than usual, thanks to a well-placed slice of his knife.
Thanatos stares … and stares, and it would be fucking rude except this horseman clearly has never come face-to-face with boobs.
“What are you doing?” he echoes, but his voice has roughened.
Breasts are, apparently, his undoing.
I grab his other hand, bringing the two of them over his head. I lean forward as I do so until The Girls are up close and personal with Thanatos.
Did I plan on distracting Death with my tits today?
No.
Will I take it?
Yes.
“I’m subduing you.” As I speak, I unhook the rope I have at my waist. I didn’t plan on this, but … like I said, things have changed between us.
“You’re subduing me?” Death murmurs distractedly. He’s still staring at my cleavage.
While he’s busy discovering hormones, I begin binding his wrists together above his head. After our last encounter, I’ve discovered that ties won’t hold him forever, but it’s better than nothing. Plus, this rope is much thicker than the clothing line I used last time.
Thanatos’s eyes finally move away from my cleavage, flicking up to my face.
Death’s gaze sharpens. “I want you.” The words rip free from him.
Absolute silence follows in their wake.
I don’t know who’s more shocked, him or me. The admission is so unexpected and so grotesquely inappropriate, given that the two of us are mortal enemies—or immortal ones, but whatever.
I wait for Death to take the words back, or at least qualify them. He doesn’t.
I turn back to my work, ready to pretend the last twenty seconds away, but my hands have begun to tremble, and I can’t seem to secure the knot around his wrists as tight as I’d like.