I pet the creature’s neck. “If I ever do change my mind about this situation,” I say softly, “you’ll be the reason for it.”
I hear the back door squeak open, then the crunch of boots against the earth.
“That hedge is not going to part,” Thanatos says from behind me.
“I’m not trying to escape,” I say.
“It would be pointless.”
I only just manage to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“I’m watching the sun set,” I say, not bothering to turn towards him.
He steps right up to my side, the wood creaking and bending beneath his weight. As though sensing the tension, Death’s horse plods away from us.
I glance up at Thanatos, craning my neck way back to see his face.
He’s looking down at me quizzically. “Why are you watching it? It’s a phenomena that happens every day.”
“So? Don’t you ever savor anything?”
He stares down at me, not responding.
After a moment, I sigh and pat the ground beside me. “Go ahead,” I say. “Join me.”
Death keeps staring at me and my God, have I grown a third eye?
Just when I think he’s going to turn away, he lowers himself.
I’d never realized it until now, but his wings are really awkward. He has to splay them out behind himself and lean forward a little to accommodate them. I feel the brush of his feathers against my side and part of me is so tempted to reach out and touch them. I run my hand over my hair instead.
“I don’t want to talk,” I say.
“Noted,” he says, his eyes on the sky above us.
So we sit like that as the sun slips below the horizon and the shadows lengthen and the cold bite to the air becomes more than just a little uncomfortable. The entire time, he makes good on his word and doesn’t talk. It’s actually … oddly peaceful.
Once the last of the light gives way to darkness, I stand, dusting the dirt from the back of my pants. I’m hungry and thirsty and my future feels like it’s holding its breath.
I glance down at Thanatos.
“You have no clue what to do with me, do you?” I say.
I think I know what Death wants, and clearly on some level he knows too, but he hasn’t acted on his baser impulses, and I’m not foolish enough to give into them either. I wouldn’t want to go losing my heart or my head to this man because it won’t stop him. I know it won’t.
He glances up at me. “I’m willing to figure it out as I go.”
I frown at him, though I doubt he can see it in the dark. Briefly, I glance at the house behind us. Letting out a sigh, I turn from it and head down the rickety stairs that lead to the backyard.
“What are you doing, Lazarus?” Death asks from behind me. For the first time since we arrived, his voice sounds relaxed—assured. He knows I’m not going anywhere.
I toe the ground. “Looking for a place to sleep.”
“Last I heard, humans slept inside houses.”
“That structure,” I say, swiveling to point to the house, “is not fit for occupation.” The walls are probably filled with vermin. It smells as though they are.
I see him stand. “It’s too cold to stay out here.”
“The house won’t be any warmer,” I say. Not with the windows knocked out. “That I promise you.”
I look for an open patch of ground to lay on. There’s a lot of junk back here and more overgrowth, and a part of me is wondering if perhaps the house is the better option. But no, the abandoned building feels more like a cage than a home.
I do find a clear patch of earth, and I sit down, wishing I had a blanket or a jacket. I shiver again.
Tonight is going to be miserable.
Behind me, the rotted wood planking creaks as Thanatos rises, then descends down the stairs, step by ominous step. I hear the swish of plants as the horseman moves through the backyard, heading towards me.
He stops at my back.
“What?” I say, not turning around. I can’t see him, but I can feel his deep curiosity. I get the impression he’d like to open me like a box and peer in at what’s inside.
After a moment, Thanatos lowers himself to the ground next to me. One of his wings brushes against me, nearly bowling me over.
Now I look at him. “What are you doing?” I say, affronted. It was one thing to sit with me and watch the sunset, it’s another thing entirely to watch me fall asleep.
“I’m staying out here with you.” He says it like it’s obvious.
Before I can respond to that—and I have things to say—my stomach growls. Loudly.