Famine (The Four Horsemen #3) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,133
I don’t even want to kill. I’m perversely grateful for these filthy humans’ help, and I get no joy from taking their livelihoods from them.
The doctor stares at me, like she knows I’ve done something terrible.
I stalk back to Ana’s room before I can hurt anything else. There’s this dreadful, yawning hole inside me.
I kneel at Ana’s side. She’s too still, though her chest is rising and falling fast.
Pitiful, useless human bodies. Of course they would turn frail the moment I actually want one of them around.
I suck in a breath as I stare at Ana’s sleeping face, realization coming to me.
I’ve seen this trick before.
This was the choice forced upon War and Pestilence. I hadn’t understood it then, when I slept deep within the ground, but I understand it now.
All of us brothers were given the choice to love as humans do, with all of the complications that entails.
One of those complications being death.
Pestilence gave up nothing in return for his love’s life; War had to give up his purpose, his power and immortality stripped from him.
I expect Death would outright refuse me.
Reaching out, I trail my fingers over Ana’s cheek, then trace her lips, my heart aching in a way it never has before. This is what it must feel like to truly be alive, every emotion so sharp it’s almost painful. I’ve spent so long lording my unending existence over finite things that I have never given them the proper respect. Not until now.
I exhale, and even that hurts. For the life of me it feels like I’m the one getting squeezed to death by my plants. I can’t breathe around this tightness in my chest.
A drop of water hits Ana’s face. Then another. It takes me a second to realize they’re tears. I’ve never cried over one of these creatures before. Not even Ana.
Ana, who’s dying …
Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering against her clammy skin.
“You can’t go, little flower.” My voice shakes as I speak. “This is one more order you’re going to have to listen to.”
I don’t need to give up my power to get her back. She’s not even dead yet.
Fuck mortal doctors and fuck Thanatos, I never needed any of their help anyways.
Carefully, I place my hand over Ana’s wound. I’ve forsaken this part of me for so long I’ve almost forgotten that I can do this—
Revive.
I’ve stirred the skies and drawn life from the ground, but turning my power towards a human—peering inside a fleshy body and trying to make sense of what’s there—it’s like tasting food for the first time. Shocking and strange.
My power is really quite simple—I can make things grow and I can make things die. It’s not quite War’s ability to heal, and it’s not quite Death’s ability to give life, but somewhere in the murky waters between the two.
The infection that’s racking Ana’s body is just one more living thing that’s doing a really, really good job of surviving. It just so happens to be killing its host in the process.
I close my eyes and allow myself to expand.
I can feel the life moving all around me; it’s everywhere—in the air, on the ground, in the ground. The earth is teeming with living things.
Turning my attention from the array of life surrounding me, I focus on Ana. Sick, weak Ana. Immediately I sense how much closer to death she is than life, but I knew that before. I set the fear aside so I can make things right.
I hone my focus not just on Ana, but in her. Immediately, I sense the bacteria overwhelming her system. It’s entered her bloodstream and is busy invading every little corner of her body. Not that the bacteria is all to blame. My little flower’s immune system is wreaking havoc in its attempt to fight the infection.
I take a moment to appreciate the sheer magnitude of this infection. All because of a single swipe of a knife.
My moment of appreciation passes, and just like every other time I’ve encountered a hated lifeform, I begin to destroy it.
Ana once asked me why I was so good at dancing. The truth is that while killing is easy, miracle-working is a more complicated process. The human body is a symphony of actions and reactions all tangled together, and right now, my job is to listen to her body’s symphony and move in time with it.