I stare at the horseman, unwilling to speak. I don’t trust my mouth; it might blurt out every tangled, confused emotion I’m feeling right now.

“I’m used to having casual sex,” I admit, “but this … this isn’t casual, Famine, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

The horseman’s eyes are bright and deep, and part of me really wants to know what he thinks of that.

“I’m not used to handling any of this,” he says.

He releases my chin and sits up. “Get comfortable.” He nods to the blanket we’re sitting on. “I’ll tell you a story—with a head scratch—and then I’ll leave.”

I frown at the leave part, but then—head scratch?

I’m laying down in a matter of seconds, Famine sitting at my side.

His hand slips through my hair, and I have to bite back a very sexual-sounding moan because it feels so good.

“How about I tell you about the time I met one of my brothers,” he says thoughtfully.

“Mmm,” I say noncommittally, not really paying attention to his words until—

“Wait.” I begin to sit back up. “You mean here, on earth?”

Famine pushes me back down. “Yes.”

“Which brother?” I ask, head scratch forgotten. “And what was he doing? What were you doing? What did you do to each other?” Oh my God, the questions I have.

Famine continues to rub my head. “I was making my way south through Europe. I’d already left the mainland, and I was crossing the Aegean Sea. I was about to arrive on Crete when I crossed paths with War.” His gaze grows distant.

“In this form,” Famine says, “it’s hard to sense my brothers, but it isn’t impossible. I knew War was close; I could feel him approaching me just as he must’ve felt me approaching him.”

I had never thought to press Famine for information on his brothers. Clearly, I should’ve.

“He met me on the beach,” he says.

I try to picture it in my mind—Famine meeting War, one of his brothers.

The Reaper falls silent.

“And?” I prod.

“He told me to leave.”

“Did you?” I ask.

Famine’s eyes slip to mine, a wry smile on his face. “One does not pick fights with War, not even in his mortal form. I left him and his family alone—”

“Family?” I interrupt, shocked.

What in the actual hell?

“War has a family?”

“So does Pestilence.”

I stare at Famine, trying to process that. “You mean to tell me that two of your brothers have settled down and had kids?” I say carefully.

Famine nods.

“… How?” I finally ask.

The horseman gives me a sly look. “It’s really quite simple, flower. They fucked mortal women. Those women got pregnant. Now they have families.”

My eyes feel like they’re bulging from their sockets. Right now, everything this horseman says is wilder than the thing before it.

“You horsemen can get women pregnant?” I ask.

Jesus. I hadn’t even thought about that.

“I can eat and sleep and do just about everything else a human can,” Famine says. “Is being able to procreate really so shocking?”

“Yes.”

It’s really, really freaking shocking.

The next question slips from my lips. “Do you have any children?”

“God, no,” he says, “I’ve made sure of that.”

“You made sure—” I sit up again. “What is that supposed to mean? Did you kill your kids?” I can feel how wide my eyes are.

The Reaper pushes me back down.

“Would that actually shock you?” he says.

“Oh my God, you did.” I don’t know why, but that changes everything.

I begin to get up, and once more Famine pushes me back down. “Calm your tits,” the horseman says, and how fucking dare he use my own line against me— “They never lived to begin with.”

I stare up at him, breathing heavily, my mind racing to catch up with his words.

“They never lived … ?” I echo.

“I have the power to make things grow and die,” he says. “I can prevent conception.”

That is so much more information than I bargained for. But also, sex with the horseman is back on the table.

Jesus, did that thought actually cross my mind?

Famine stares down at me. “Are you good?”

I nod, maybe a little too quickly. “I’m good,” I say, just to reassure him.

The horseman is looking at me as though I can’t be trusted.

“So War lives on an island?” I start again, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “With his family?”

I’m trying to imagine someone like Famine being a father. I can’t picture it.

“Mhm,” Famine says, still giving me a skeptical look. His hand moves back to my hair, and his fingers begin rubbing my scalp once more.

“So, he loves them then?” I ask. “His family?”

“The fuck if I know,” the Reaper says. After a moment, he adds, “But I imagine he does.”

I lay there, trying to figure out how the hell these women managed to tame two horsemen of the apocalypse.

“Does that mean War’s not killing people the same way you are?” I ask.

“He had been,” Famine admits, “but yes, at some point he stopped—as did Pestilence.”

“Why?” I ask, my brows furrowing.

The horseman frowns. A moment later, he stands. “Get some sleep. I’ll be near.”

With that, he crosses the room and opens the door. Famine slips outside, into the drizzling rain. The door clicks shut behind him, and then he’s gone.

It takes far longer than it should to fall asleep.

At first, all I can think about is his parting story and all of the information he revealed. But as my shock settles, other things begin to creep in.

I cannot forget how your skin felt against mine and the look in your eyes when I touched you. But most of all, I cannot ignore the way you draw me in.

I’m haunted by the horseman’s words and the look on his face when he said them.

I don’t even have a dick in me, and I’m fucked.

So, so fucked.

Somewhere between one troubled thought and the next, I slip off to sleep.

BANG!

I jolt awake, trying to figure out what’s happening, even as I hear shouting. Panic floods my system.

I push myself up on my elbows just as someone says, “Don’t move another centimeter unless you want a hole in that pretty chest of yours.”

My gaze goes first to the intruder speaking, then to the bow and arrow he has trained on me.

“Told you there was someone at the old Monteiro place,” a woman behind him says.

My heart begins to gallop.

Highwaymen.

I hadn’t given much thought to the bandits that roamed the roads since I began traveling with Famine. After all, anyone who came close to the horseman died.

Where the hell is the Reaper?

Earlier he’d said that he’d leave—and he did. I just hadn’t thought he meant permanently. But has he come back since he left my side?