Page 112 of Famine

If I’m really to believe that this set of scales measures truth and justice andpeace, then Famine should be weighing his end of the scaleswaydown. Out of all the devils that inhabit this earth, he’s the worst of them.

Which means the scales are rigged.

God hates us and loves his evil reaper.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and in that silence, I feel the horseman’s nearness. All over again it reminds me that he took my hand and brought me here. That all of this is just a prelude to … to whatever comes next.

I turn to the horseman, and I suck in a breath at the sight of him. Seeing him without all that heavy armor feels intimate. Particularly when the two of us are in his bedroom.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask.

You know why, his eyes seem to say.

I exhale, my pulse speeding up. I’ve been worried since entering this room that this night might play itself out like every other experience I had at the bordello, but I realize now how wrong I was. No one—no one—has ever made me feel as self-aware as Famine. No one has ever made me want them so badly in spite of every awful thing they’ve done. Not even Martim, the first boy I loved.

Only the horseman.

My hands move to my shirt, ready to remove the garment.

Famine catches my hands.His fingers tighten over mine. I stare down at our entwined hands.

“Not everything is about sex, flower,” he breathes. That low, velvety voice seems to rub me in all the right places.

Contrary to his words, my reaction to him haseverythingto do with sex.

“What else is there?” I ask.

Why did he bring me here then, if not for intimacy?

I glance up at Famine then, and in the low light, I see him as he truly is. Something ancient and full of secrets; a being that has thoughts and dreams that a mortal like me can’t hope to grasp.

“Do you think I have lived for eons to be consumed by something as trifling as sex?” he says softly. “Everything comes and goes. Animals, plants—even people. You are all so very … transitory.

“So what consumes me?” He smiles a little hollowly at that. “Things thatendure.” His gaze doesn’t waver from mine, and Lord help me, I feel something in that gaze. Not lust, not attraction—though there’s plenty of both—but raw connection.

He releases my hands, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the Reaper wants, or what I want, but he basically just saidnoto sex, so I’m not sure what else …

Famine steps in and cups my face, his gaze searching mine. At his touch, I still.

“The truth of the matter is, you’re the one human I actually like.”

As far as compliments go, this one is mediocre at best. But coming from Famine, I feel myself soften.

The Reaper’s attention dips to my mouth, and there it lingers. Suddenly, I think Famine might be full of shit when it comes to his opinions on sex because he is giving me that hungry look again.

There’s a knock on the door, and in an instant the moment and all of its unexpected sweetness is gone.

The horseman curses under his breath. “I almost forgot about that human pox, Heitor.”

At his name, I stiffen.

The action is subtle, but Famine’s gaze immediately shifts from the door to me.

His gaze narrows. “Why is it that every time Heitor is brought up, you get jumpy?”

“I already told you why—because he’s as evil as we humans get.”

The Reaper tilts his head a little, still scrutinizing me. “As I see it,I’mthe thing you should be most scared of, not some aging human with an overdeveloped ego and an underdeveloped conscience.”