Famine (The Four Horsemen #3) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,73

Famine’s men must’ve done an adequate job warning people about Famine’s arrival.

My own mood is light and airy until I read a sign on the road.

“We’re going to São Paulo?” I say.

“If you’re referring to the city ahead of us, then yes, we are.”

São Paulo is one of those big places in my world. It’s one of those cities you want to be a part of because things happened there. I always imagined that its citizens were more cultured, more sophisticated, more well-traveled—just more.

And now the Reaper is going to destroy it all.

As we enter the city, I can’t help but suck in a breath. The place is enormous, and it just seems to go on and on and on. There are blocks upon blocks of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see.

However, despite its sprawl, there’s a desolation to São Paulo, and slowly, I understand why. So much of what I see is rubble. There are blocks and blocks of collapsed buildings; some areas are so utterly destroyed that the debris has effectively blockaded the streets. More than once, Famine has had to turn back and find an alternate route when the original one was obstructed. It seems as though São Paulo abandoned this section of the city.

Out of nowhere, Famine says, “You’re not to kiss me again.”

“What?” I say, blinking away my thoughts.

“Agree to it.”

“Agree to what?” I’m so lost.

A moment later my mind catches up to what he said.

“Oh, kissing you?” I state. “Naw, I’m not going to agree to that.” I say it mostly to ruffle his feathers, but also because—curiosity.

“Ana.” He says my name like a warning.

Just to be an asshole, I grab his hand and, threading my fingers in between his, I lift his arm to my mouth. Softly, I press a kiss to the back of his hand, then another against the side of his wrist, then—

“Damnit, Ana, stop.”

He pulls his arm away, and I have to press my lips together to stop from laughing at the fact that scary, horrible Famine is physically holding his arm away from me to stop me from kissing it again.

“God, calm down, Famine,” I say. “I’m just teasing you.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Well of course it’s not funny to you,” I say. “The joke’s at your expense.”

The longer we move through São Paulo, the more uneasy I get. I haven’t seen anyone on the streets.

All the stories I heard about this place made it seem lively. Could they have been wrong?

As I look up at one of the windows, I see a figure peering out. When the woman notices me, she darts away from the window. Inside another building I see a curtain rustle.

Trepidation drips down my spine.

Perhaps, there are people here, after all.

“Famine, do you think this is going to be one of those cities where people try to kill you?”

His fingers drum against my thigh. “It’s likely.”

Well, fuck. That doesn’t sound fun.

Famine’s men clearly warned the people of São Paulo of our upcoming arrival. But now I wonder what exactly these people were told about the horseman.

By the looks of it, nothing good.

Unfortunately for Famine (and me), this city might actually have enough people to fight back.

I don’t know how long we ride through that metropolis, the only sound the steady hoof beats of Famine’s horse, when the rider appears. His horse moves slow, making his appearance somewhat chilling, like the calm before the storm.

He wears a large cowboy hat, and it’s only once he’s close that he calls out, “Hey friend, I’m here to take you to the estate where you’ll be staying.”

I glance up at Famine, but the horseman wears a stoic expression.

Eventually, he nods to the man, and the rider turns around, heading out ahead of us.

“Is that one of your men?” I ask.

“Maybe … maybe not,” Famine says. “You all look so alike.”

“Well, that’s super reassuring.” I take a steadying breath. “So, is this a trap?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

By walking straight into it, he means.

“That is not the correct way to deal with these situations,” I say. Has Famine learned nothing from his time in captivity?

“It’ll be alright, little flower.”

I exhale. I guess it will have to be, because for better or worse, I’m along for the ride.

Following the rider ahead of us, we enter a section of the city that doesn’t look so desolate. In fact, it seems as though the people here have taken pains to revitalize this section of São Paulo. You can see it