And then I see him once more above me. His wings are stretched wide behind him as he perches on an exposed beam. He peers down into the collapsed building, his dark hair waving like flag in the wind.
“Lazarus?” he says, his eyes scanning the darkness.
“Thanatos.” It comes out somewhere between a sob and a sigh.
I know the instant he catches sight of me. His body goes rigid.
All at once, his wings snap closed behind him. He steps off his perch and drops down from the roof, falling like a stone. Just before he lands, his wings spread wide, slowing his fall, so that he seems to float the last several feet of his descent.
Pebbles skitter as he lands on a pile of rubble, and once more his wings fold closed behind him.
He strides forward over the debris, his silver breastplate shimmering in the shadowy light. His footsteps pause, and I see his eyes fall to me. He takes in my face, then my shredded clothing and the few places where my flesh is still healing. Eventually, his eyes land on the pole jutting through my abdomen.
“Lazarus.” Death rushes the rest of the way to me. He kneels at my side, taking in my injuries again. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t know angels cursed,” I say, my lips splitting as I speak.
His eyes are still roving over me, like he’s trying to process what happened. “How long have you been here?” he asks.
But he knows. He must know. The pole jutting up through me is evidence enough.
“Since you dropped me.” Now that I no longer have to shout, my voice comes out as a whisper.
“Since I … ?” His eyes search mine, and I see the horror creep into his expression. He curses again. “You’ve been here the whole time?” he asks.
I close my eyes and nod.
He makes an agonized sound.
I open my eyes.
His hand cups the side of my face, his thumb sliding over my cheekbone.
“I assumed you’d be more pleased by that,” I whisper.
Thanatos’s gaze is tortured as it meets mine. “I don’t pride myself on being cruel.” His eyes wander to where the rusted pole sticks out of me. “I have been searching for you. I …” He pauses, his gaze moving back to my own. “I was consumed with worry. The sight of you slipping from my arms has not left me all these days.”
“Stop it,” I say.
I don’t want to hear this. I thought I did—I thought nothing hurt more than the possibility of Death leaving me here to rot for all eternity—but I was wrong. We have an unspoken agreement between us—one where we despise each other. I’m not ready for that to change.
His gaze returns to the thick steel bar protruding up from me. There’s a good three feet of it jutting into the sky.
Death gets up and prowls around me, studying the pole. Eventually he kneels back at my side and grabs the thing with both hands.
“Brace yourself, Lazarus,” he says.
And then he twists. The metal groans as it bends beneath his might, and the movement causes the metal to jostle my injury.
I grit my teeth, biting back a pained cry.
With a final screech, the metal bar snaps off. Death tosses the length of it aside. The pole clangs as it lands in the distance, the sound echoing around us.
For an instant, I marvel at the horseman’s unnatural strength. To think I’ve been fighting that over and over again.
Death frowns down at me.
“What is it?” I say hoarsely.
“I’m going to have to lift you, Laz,” he says, shortening my name like we’re friends.
My insides seem to liquefy with fear. I thought I was brave when it came to pain, but after the last several days, I’m not.
But I need to get free.
Pressing my eyelids tightly together, I nod.
“Do it,” I say, opening my eyes.
Death moves in close, his arms sliding under my back. Even that slight movement causes a cry to slip out.
God this is going to hurt.
Thanatos pauses. “Are you alright?” he says, checking in.
I breathe heavily through my nose. “Just give me a moment.”
The horseman does. His arms are still under me, but he doesn’t move.
I turn my gaze towards the images hammered into his breastplate, trying to calm my nerves. There are snakes and headstones, eggs and fanged creatures, spirals and funerary processions—each image spilling into the next. I stare hard at the span of metal covering Thanatos’s heart. On it, a woman is wrapped intimately in a skeleton’s embrace. Just as I’m about to reach out and touch it, Death lifts me.
I scream, the sound driven entirely by the agonizing rip of my wound.