Page 118 of War

Maybe I’ve gotten this all wrong. Maybe War can’t have kids. I mean, he’s no ordinary human.

I take one look at his muscle-packed body. I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen a more virile man. I feel like one long look from him could knock me up.

My next question just spills out of me.

“Have you ever gotten a woman pregnant?”

Those glowing tattoos shine from the darkness. The horseman stares at me, looking like he’s poised to strike. In fact, the longer I stare, the more menacing he appears.

“Why would you ask such a question?” he says.

Curiosity mostly.

“Have you?” I press.

Whatever state of inebriation War was in when he entered his tent, it’s gone.

“What do you think, Miriam?” Those violent eyes are locked on mine, and he sounds particularly dangerous. “Do you think I impregnated a woman while I moved across your land? Do you think I then killed my child, along with its mother?

“Or do you believe that they are both here somewhere in camp, hidden from view?”

I don’t know. I wouldn’t put any of it past him, despite the fact that he sounds offended. So offended, in fact, that I’m now pretty sure that despite the sex fest he’s had since coming to earth, he has no children.

That thought should relieve me. Instead, the whole conversation is reminding me of all the reasons why sleeping with War is a bad idea. Fooling around with him is only fun when I don’t have to think too much about it.

“Coming here was a mistake,” I say. I begin to walk past him, towards the exit.

He catches my arm and spins me to face him. “This wasnota mistake.”

“Sleep it off, War,” I say. “You’ll feel better once you do.”

“So you’re fleeing then?” he accuses.

“Isn’t that what all us humans do?” I ask.

“Not you, savage woman,” he says, his expression dark and cunning as he grips my arm. “You fight even when it’s unwise to do so.”

“Whatwouldyou do, if you got a woman pregnant?” I ask.

War just stares at me.

He has absolutely no idea, and that is terrifying in its own right.

“Goodnight, War,” I say.

I jerk my arm from his hold, and I leave his tent.

I don’t seeWar again until the next day. By the time he comes to me, he’s already returned from raiding all the satellite communities around Arish. From what I’ve seen of Egypt so far, there aren’t many of these. Out here, there’s desert and ocean and sky and nothing else.

“Did you have a hangover?” I ask him. I sit outside my tent, busy fitting a glass arrowhead to a finished wooden shaft.

“A hangover?” He smiles a bit. “There was a brief flash of pain and some fleeting nausea, but I wouldn’t call that a hangover.”

Part of me is belatedly surprised that he knows what a hangover is, but he’s lived among soldiers for a year now. He was bound to learn about them eventually.

“Do you remember our talk?” I ask him. “From last night?”

His face changes, but I can’t say exactly what his expression is. Brooding? Curious? Right now it’s impossible to tell.

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