Page 134 of Famine

“I killed a man,” I finally say, my eyes rising to meet Famine’s. Dread rests like a stone in my stomach.

“I take it you didn’t enjoy the experience quite as much as I do?” he says.

A small, agonized sound slips from me. I cover my eyes and bring my drink back to my lips, swallowing the rest of it in one large mouthful. It’s smooth liquor, made all the smoother by my guilty conscience. At least it’s beginning to warm me from the inside out, easing away a little of that guilt.

“If it’s any consolation,” he says, “I appreciate all that you did to help me—killing included.”

I give him a hollow laugh … and then I start crying.

It begins as a hiccup, but quickly morphs into full body sobs. Once I start, I can’t seem to stop. This sadness has me in its grips. My hands still shake, and I killed a man, and so many more men are going to die, and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or why I feel so compelled to help this demon—

“Hey,” Famine says, his voice going gentle, so gentle. “Hey.”

He comes forward and kneels in front of me. The horseman takes my glass from me, setting it aside, along with his own.

He spreads my legs apart, just so that he can move in closer, his armor rigid against my inner thighs. Then Famine takes my face in his hands, cupping my cheeks and brushing away my tears.

“Don’t cry.”

I lift my gaze to his, feeling miserable.

His eyes lock on a tear. He gives a fierce frown, his eyes agonized. “Yousavedme,” he says.

“Is that really supposed to make me feel better?” I say, my voice hitching. “You’re just going to kill more people.”

His brows pull together, like maybe this is the first time he even considered that to be a bad idea.

I let out a wretched laugh. “You give God a bad name.”

Famine forces out his own laugh. “You give humans a good one.”

My chest tightens at that, and for a moment, I’m distracted from my sadness by the memory of his lips on mine and the close press of his body.

Just as his body presses in close now.

The Reaper continues to stare at me, his gaze intense. “Too good.”

I think he might kiss me.

I’m not exactly in the best headspace for a kiss, but Famine’s looking at me like he’s willing to change my mind. His hands are still on my cheeks, I can feel the tickle of his breath, and his face is so close, so close. And then there’s his wild eyes and wicked mouth and now I’ve gone still, my guilt forgotten for a moment.

Just when I think the Reaper is going to lean in, he drops his hands instead.

“You must be hungry,” he says.

I feel a swell of disappointment, my misery crowding back in.

“I’mshockedthat you’d remember I need to eat,” I say.

“In case you forgot, little flower, I’m Famine. Hunger is the one thing Ineverforget,” he says. He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

“In caseyou’veforgotten,” I say, letting him lead me out of the room, “my hunger has slipped your mind in the past.”

He ignores me, tugging me onwards, out of this wing of the estate. We cross the courtyard, Famine’s bronze armor catching the last bits of the fading light.

All over again the sight of him takes my breath away. He looks like some fabled hero with his staggering height and muscled form, all of it encased in mythic-looking armor. It’s almost impossible to fathom that less than a day ago he was dead.

The Reaper glances over his shoulder at me then, catching the wondrous look on my face. The corner of his mouth curves up into a sly smile and his eyes seem to dance. I think he might tease me, but he doesn’t. He simply flashes me a secretive look and faces forward once more.

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