I stare at the armored being, a scythe gripped in his hand.
The horseman takes in the shadowy room for a split second before his eyes fall to me.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands.
Someone who would really, really like to be any place other than here.
I am literally quaking at the sight of this man. And his scythe. It doesn’t matter that I can’t truly die, I am afraid for my life.
Pull yourself together, Lazarus. You’ve faced down horsemen before.
I take a shallow breath to calm my nerves.
“That depends,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even. “Who the hell are you?”
Not that he needs a nametag. It’s pretty obvious.
The horseman narrows his eyes. He takes a few steps forward, and a sheathed sword at his side sways with the motion.
I tense up. I have no idea what sort of relationship this horseman has with Death. There are so many reasons he might want to hurt me, and everything about him—even the way he moves—screams violence.
Good God. I’m having a hard time processing that there are actually four of these bastards around.
“Are you Death’s woman?” he asks.
My eyebrows rise. Death’s woman?
Hardly.
“I’m his prisoner.” I glance meaningfully over my shoulder where I’m tied up.
He smirks, like the term is cute.
The longer he looks at me, the bigger that smirk grows and the brighter his eyes become.
This is where I get stabbed and left for dead.
“You are his woman, aren’t you?” he says, sounding gleeful.
I give him an incredulous look. “If you mean his kidnap victim, then yes. Otherwise, no.”
Why are we discussing my relationship status with Death?
“Have you tried to kill him yet?” the horseman asks.
I stare at him. “What do you want with me?” I ask.
Damn Thanatos for leaving me vulnerable like this.
“Just answer the question.”
“Fine,” I snap. “Yes, I have.”
The horseman watches me carefully, the hazy light making his copper armor and caramel-colored hair glow. “Have you actually killed him?”
“He can’t be killed,” I retort.
“Not permanently,” he agrees. “But have you ended my brother’s life for a time?”
He stares too intently at me, and I find myself looking away.
“Yes,” I bite out.
I can feel the horseman staring at me with that unnerving gaze for several long moments. I still don’t know what he wants, though my fear of him is waning the longer we chat.
He takes a couple slow steps towards me, scrutinizing my situation. “And you’re now tied up here, helpless and at my brother’s whim?” he says. “You are most definitely his woman.”
I grind my teeth together.
“I’m not.”
“You are,” he insists, and now I know that obnoxiousness clearly runs in the family.
“Hmm.” The horseman considers me. “Your presence changes things.” There’s a calculating gleam in his eyes.
I lift my chin and glare at him. “If you’re planning on killing me, you’re going to be disappointed.” I’m not so easy to get rid of.
“Kill you?” he says, incredulously, clearly taken aback. “Woman, we want to unleash you.”
“We?” I echo faintly.
I should be focused on the part where I don’t die, but this horseman’s words … they have me nervous in a whole new way.
The horseman closes the last of the distance between us. He crouches down, setting his scythe aside. “You didn’t think I came here all by my lonesome, did you?”
My eyes widen and my stomach bottoms out. “The other horsemen are here with you too?” I shift my gaze over his shoulder.
Out the open doorway, I can see the weather has turned ominous. Dark, angry clouds gather overhead.
“Well, not all of us,” the horseman admits as the first few raindrops begin to patter on the roof. “We’re still missing our dearest Death. But I’m sure if you’re here, he’ll be back soon. There’s no way he tied you up like a treat only to abandon you.”
I frown, taking in the horseman’s piercing green eyes and cutting features. “Which rider are you?” I ask.
“The least pleasant one—excepting Death, of course.”
I continue to stare at him, waiting for an actual answer.
He sighs. “Humans,” he mutters under his breath. “Famine. I’m Famine—I also answer to ‘the Reaper’。”