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Yeah, I am that pathetic.

“Consumption.”

My eyes rise to his.

His stare is too direct. I don’t know what he wants from me.

I lift a shoulder. “Cool.”

Pestilence’s eyes go to my lips. “You use such strange language sometimes.”

This from a guy who calls the bathroom alatrine.

I break eye contact for no other reason than I’m noticing just how handsome he is when he’s kind.

My gaze drifts to the storm outside. It’s been raging this entire time. I know from experience that if it’s as cold as I think it is outside, the rainwater will burn like ice.

“Please don’t make us travel today.” The request just kind of slips out of me.

“Please?” His eyes alight with fire.

Crap.

He just loves that word.

His chair scrapes back. “Human, I think you just decided our day for us.”

Chapter 17

Eff the cold, and the horseman along with it.

My teeth chatter nonstop as Trixie Skillz trots ever forward. Even under my layers of clothes and the wool blanket I wear, my body won’t stop shaking.

I might be the one Canadian who can’t stand the cold. Everyone else is like, “Hey look, I can see the sun today, and even though it’s cold enough to freeze water, by God, I think this is T-shirt weather!” Meanwhile, I’m what happens when a human and an ice cube have a baby.

I’m pretty sure I was switched at birth.

“H-how much l-longer?” I ask, my shivers making a mess of my speech.

I’m going to get hypothermia and die out here. And wouldn’t that be ironic? Pestilence’s captive dies of exposure—not to the plague, but to the elements.

The horseman glances down at me from where he holds me fast against his unyielding metal armor. “I’m not sure,” he says. “You could ask nicely and help me decide.”

He means I could saypleaseagain and screw myself over.

“Or you can remain quiet and we can ride through the night.”

I swivel to face him. “Y-you are the m-most prideful jerk I-I’ve ever m-met!”

I face forward again, pulling my wet blanket closer around me.

Once this is all over, I’m moving to Mexico. I bet no one dies of the cold in Mexico.

If I thought Pestilence would react to my outburst, I was wrong. We continue on, the minutes passing laboriously. We pass a few settlements so small that if you sneezed you would’ve missed them. The storm lets up briefly, only to then redouble its efforts.

At some point throughout the day my shivers lessen, but it’s not because I’ve managed to warm myself up. Distantly I’m aware that this is bad. My fingers are stiff and hard to move, and my eyes keep drooping.

It’s only when my wool blanket slides off of me and onto the street that I catch Pestilence’s attention.