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I have to lift my head as my body drags along behind the horse to prevent it from getting injured. Yesterday’s snow has mostly melted away, and the bare asphalt now acts like sandpaper against my back. I can almost feel the layers of my thick coat disintegrating under the force of it. Once it goes … I don’t know how long a human can last like this.

I never get the chance to find out.

Before I feel the bite of the road against my bare skin, Pestilence stops the horse in front of another house.

I lean my head against my arm, utterly exhausted by the pain. Dimly, I’m aware of the horseman untying my restraints from his mount.

His footfalls come to my side, then ominously stop.

“Up.”

I moan in response. Everything hurts so damnmuch.

A second later, he bends down and scoops me up.

I let out a whimper. Even his touch hurts. I close my eyes and lay a weary cheek against the golden armor of his chest as he carries me to the house’s stoop.

I don’t see Pestilence batter down the door; I simply hear it. Shouts ring out from inside the house.

“Oh my God,” a woman says. “Oh my God—oh myGod.”

I force my eyes open. There’s a middle-aged lady staring at us with a look of abject horror.

Why hasn’t she evacuated? What was she thinking?

“We’re staying here,” the horseman says as he brushes past her.

Her head jerks back in surprise as she watches him invade her home.

“Not inmyhouse!” she says shrilly.

“My prisoner will need to eat, sleep, and use your amenities,” he continues, as though she hadn’t spoken.

Behind us, I hear her choke on several words before she says, “You need toleave. Now.”

Her words fall on deaf ears. Pestilence heads up her staircase. Once he gets to the second floor, he begins kicking doors open, and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it. He muscles us into a sparsely furnished bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He sets me on the bed, then backs away, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re slowing me down, human.”

I glare at him from where I lay. “Then let me go.” Or kill me. Honestly, death might be the kinder option at this point.

“Have you forgotten my words so quickly? I don’t intend to let you go, I intend to make you suffer.”

“You’re doing a good job of it,” I say quietly.

His disapproving look only deepens at my words. Strange, you’d think he’d be pleased by that.

He gestures to the bed where I lay. “Sleep,” he commands.

Oh, like it’s that simple.

Even feeling like I’ve been shitkicked to near death, I can’t just up and fall asleep, especially not when the sun is lancing through the window and I can hear the homeowner getting hysterical on the other side of the door.

“I need you to untie my hands first,” I say raising my bound arms to him.

His gaze narrows all distrustful-like, but he comes over to me and undoes the rope.

He leans in close. “No tricks, human.”