Death (The Four Horsemen, #4)

by Laura Thalassa

“The next time we meet, Lazarus, I won’t be so kind to you,” he warns, his wings spreading wide. “But come for me all the same. I will relish our reunion.”

“Duty is duty,” Death says. He settles back a little. “But—to answer your previous question—no, I don’t enjoy it.”

Vs the otger ones… death is inevitanle but has no malicious enjoyment of his purpose

Every minute that drags on is one more spent with you, and I cannot imagine life ever returning to the way it once was.”

“You don’t have to try it,” I say. “Of course I must,” he replies. “It’s soul food, and I am the overseer of souls.”

And somehow, I still live, though by all rights, the part of me that matters has left. For a handful of years I exist without her, and I understand finally, truly, Lazarus’s words about loss.