Page 113 of Famine

“You won’t hurt me,” I say. “He will.”

Famine studies me for a moment longer before reaching out, his hand slipping under my shirt. I suck in a breath at the contact. His warm palm runs over my flesh, then settles on the jagged scar left over from where his men stabbed me. Men who are themselves long dead.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Ihavehurt you,” he says. “And as for Heitor, why would you think he’s going to hurt you?”

“Because that’s what he does,” I say.

If the Reaper needs proof, all he has to do is remember how the cartel boss had Famine’s men killed, dismembered, and hung for display outside his walls. We were Rocha’s enemies before we arrived, and we’re his enemies now. And, when given the chance, men like him eliminate their enemies.

Famine is still watching my expression carefully. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Jesus, this man is relentless.

“You mean besides the fact that we know he’s not afraid to kill?” I say.

Another knock comes from the other side of the door.

“Besides that,” the Reaper says.

I almost don’t mention my littleencounterwith Rocha. It’s such a small thing, and I pride myself on handling my own business. But the horseman is not letting it go, and I don’t care enough to keep it from him.

“Earlier,” I say, “when Heitor was showing me my room, he grabbed my ass.”

“He did what?” Famine’s inflection doesn’t change, but suddenly he isway more menacing.

“He squeezed my ass.”It was nothing, I almost tack on, but fuck that asshole.

Again the horseman’s eyes rove over my face. Whatever he sees causes a muscle in his jaw to jump.

The knock on the door comes again, and the Reaper drags his attention from mine. The cruel smile I’ve gotten familiar with now blooms across his face.

“It’s long past time I dealt with that nuisance.” He grabs his scythe and strides to the door. To himself I hear him say, “Perhaps I’ll take his hands. Heitor doesn’t need hands to help me. He doesn’t need legs either.”

Holy shit.

Famine grabs the door, then pauses. “I’ll be right back,” he says to me. “Stay in my room as long as you like.”

And then he’s gone.

Chapter 29

I don’t stay in Famine’s room.

There’s nothing inherentlywrongwith the room, but lingering in there feels too much like waiting, and I don’t really want to feel like I’m waiting on someone else at the moment.

Unfortunately, waiting is exactly what I end up doing in my bed. I’m not sure how long I thought it would take Famine to deal with Heitor, but the minutes tick by, and the hallway outside my room is painfully quiet.

I wait for the sound of footsteps—anyfootsteps—heading towards this wing of the estate, but none come. I wait so long the tapered candles have dripped down to size, getting wax all over the sconces that hold them.

I wait until my eyelids grow heavy and I drift off …

Click.

My eyes snap open, my heart racing for some odd reason. The room is pitch black, the candles having burned themselves out at some point.

I lay in bed, trying to figure out what woke me. The room is so dark it’s hard to make out anything. I hear another soft noise, and I realize it’s coming from the door. I locked it earlier, but now I swear it sounds like the knob is turning.

A moment later the door does, in fact, open. Low light from the hallway filters in, outlining a male figure. There’s something in the hand at his side.