Famine (The Four Horsemen #3) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,149

I tell her, “because you won’t do it yourself.” As I speak, a line of plants burst from the ground, creating a road of sorts from Ana all the way to the nearby forest’s tree line.

Ana’s eyes flash, and the look of betrayal she gives me nearly makes me waver. If I wasn’t such a cold-hearted bastard, I might’ve actually lost my nerve.

Instead, I flick my wrist again, and the plants begin to move, each one systematically grabbing her before handing her off to the next bit of foliage in line. It’s a strange and unnatural sight, watching the flora spirit away a grown woman into the forest beyond. It’s the thing of human myths.

What’s not so mythical are the curses pouring from her mouth.

“You goddamn bastard!” she shouts. “Let me fucking go! Famine, I swear upon your God, I will kick you in the dick so hard you’ll feel your balls in your throat.”

Normally, the sadist in me gets quite a bit of pleasure from her protests. But right now there’s no joy in it. I stare after her until even her voice fades away.

I go back inside the house long enough to grab my scythe before returning to my front yard. My gaze goes to the heavens, where thick storm clouds have amassed.

He’s still out there. Still circling. And damn me, but I cannot pinpoint him with my senses and I cannot clear this sky enough to spot him with my naked eye.

If I had been level-headed, I would easily blow away the incoming storm. But my feelings are inextricably bound up in Death’s arrival, and my anxiety cannot do more than intensify the already thick cloud cover.

So I stare at the heavens and focus as best I can on where he might be.

Minutes pass.

“Come on, brother,” I murmur. “Let’s end this.”

As though he heard my words, I sense him lowering himself from the sky. I still can’t spot him.

In the distance, I hear my steed snort, then the dull pound of his hooves galloping towards me.

Off in the opposite direction are another set of pounding hoof beats. I drag my gaze away from the sky.

There, charging up the road is a dappled grey steed. His empty saddle is made of black leather and limned in silver, chthonic images styled across the seat.

Death’s fabled horse.

At last, Thanatos has found me.

Chapter 53

Ana

I sit in a cage made of plants, seething. There are sticks in my hair, leaves down my shirt, and stalks up my skirt.

The plants around me are no longer manhandling my ass, and they are no longer wrapped around my limbs, but the thick, barbed bush that encapsulates me is obviously meant to be a cage.

After a minute, I stand up and brush myself off, my head skimming the branches that arch overhead.

Will this plant release me if I put up a fight?

I give it a test kick, just to see. When it doesn’t fight back—also, yay for living in a time when plants fight back—I begin to push my way through the foliage, elbowing back branches and ignoring the nicks and scrapes I get from the thorns.

It takes me several minutes, but I get out of that stupid cage Famine wrought.

Oh man, am I going to rip him a new asshole.

I begin stalking back the way I came when I hear a loud, thumping noise overhead.

Whomp—whomp—whomp.

I glance up at the object descending from the sky. At first glance, it looks like an enormous black bird, but after several seconds, I realize it’s a winged man.

The dark angel lowers himself to the earth, his massive black wings beating behind him, causing his dark hair to ripple. I catch a glimpse of glowing glyphs crawling up his neck, but it’s his beautiful, solemn face that snags my gaze.

His feet touch the ground, and his dark wings fold up behind him. He doesn’t carry a sword or a scythe or any other weapon, but I feel as though I can’t draw in enough breath.

The hairs across my arms stand on end; I don’t believe I’ve ever encountered a being that seems as lethal as this one does—Famine included.

He strides forward, silver armor gleaming, his gaze trained on me.

Around him, the underbrush withers away, their leaves curling up and their stalks turning brittle.

It’s the same sick power that Famine has.

Only this isn’t Famine.

There’s only one creature in existence who this could be.

“Death,” I whisper.

And he’s coming for me.

Famine

I realize my mistake the moment my brother’s feet touch the earth. I