Page 49 of Famine
My eyes catch on that hand.
The man clears his throat. “I thought that maybe … a horseman like you might want …” He clears his throat again, like he can’t get the words out.
The silence stretches on.
“Well?” Famine says. “What do you think I want?”
There’s another long stretch of silence.
“My daughter—” the man finally says, “is yours, if you’ll have her.”
Daughter. The word is ringing in my ears.
It was easy for Elvita and me to approach the Reaper. I was a prostitute and Elvita was the madam who managed my clients. But offering upyour daughterto be used by some vengeful stranger? The thought has my stomach churning.
Famine’s eyes flick to mine, and he gives me a look as if to say,See? I do this all the time, and it tires me.
“Humans are soterriblypredictable, are they not?” he says.
Now that I actually think about it, thismusthappen to him all the time. In city after city he opens his doors to people who give him gifts. For a poor family, a woman’s flesh might be the most valuable thing they have to offer.
I shouldn’t have a problem with that—it’s been my currency for the last five years.
But right now it sickens me.
Famine’s gaze flicks over my face, drinking in my reaction before he casts a lazy glance back at the man. “So you didn’t come to me empty-handed after all.”
The man shakes his head. The girl is beginning to tremble; she looks visibly frightened by the horseman.
“She’s not much to look at,” Famine notes, his gaze moving over her. “Too short and her skin is blemished.”
Because she’s still a teenager, I want to shout. Never mind that I, too, was a teenager when I first started sleeping with strangers. I don’t have to want that life for anyone else.
“And her teeth …” the horseman makes a face.
There’s nothing wrong with this girl’s teeth—or the rest of her looks for that matter—but that’s beside the point. Famine is aiming to hurt.
Just like the plants he kills, Famine has his seasons. Sometimes he’s light and happy, like spring. And then other times, like now, he’s cruel and cold like winter.
Abruptly, he turns to me. “Tell me, Ana, what would you have me do?”
What … the hell?
I stare at him like he’s gone mad.
“Should I fuck her?” he asks me. “Or would you prefer I make an example out of her as I did you?”
I curl my upper lip, repulsed by him. “You are a monster.”
“Mmm …” The corner of his mouth lifts and he turns his attention back to his guests.
Once again, Famine eyes the girl up and down. She stares back at him, still visibly shaking.
All at once, he stands, setting his drink aside. I think that maybe he means to hurt the pair, but he doesn’t reach for his scythe. Instead, he closes in on the girl.
Reflexively she takes a step back. I can’t see his face, but I can see hers, and she’s terrified.
“I have enough enemies,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. “I’ll spare her the worst of my torments.” To one of his men, he says, “Put her in one of the bedrooms.”
