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“And what about your brothers?”

“They don’t want him dead, either.” That particular untruth came easily, probably because she wished it were true. “You have my word K haont>

Kynan gave a single nod and strode out with Shade and Eidolon. As the door closed, Arik groaned. The sound was a spear to the gut. She’d never been the type to offer comfort—she had no problem offering her opinion, but the desire to take care of another had never been part of her makeup.

She moved toward the bed, her steps tentative, as if she were approaching an injured bear and not an unconscious man.

“Arik?” Her voice was a froggy croak.

He groaned again, louder, his jaw clenched as though in unbearable pain. Maybe she should grab Eidolon—

His body tensed and trembled, and he tossed his head, the tendons in his neck straining as he opened his mouth in a silent scream.

Thoughts of grabbing the demon doctor went out the window, replaced by a sudden need to end Arik’s suffering. Hastily, she climbed into bed with him and used her body to control his thrashing. As gently as she could, she rested her head on his shoulder and put her hand on his chest. His heart pounded into her palm and drummed in her ear. This was the closest she’d ever been to a man—intimately, at least, and was her pulse supposed to match his like that?

It made her body hum and felt oddly… right… when she hadn’t even known there was something wrong.

Another moan dredged up from his chest, the sound of so much agony. He’d been physically healed, but mentally… she didn’t even want to think about what kind of damage had been done. He jerked, his muscles spasming so violently that his arms flailed.

“Shh.” Using a light touch, she stroked him, long, soothing passes through his hair, over his jaw, and down his throat. He settled down, his breathing even, the rise and fall of his chest becoming steady. “That’s it. Sleep.”

His hand came up, startling her as his fingers circled her wrist. She watched, breathless, as he put her palm against his lips in what she swore was a kiss. Confused by his tenderness and overwhelmed by the feelings it stirred inside her, she went completely still. No one had ever been so… she didn’t even know the word for it, that’s how foreign what he’d done was to her.

All she knew was that her Horseman name, Famine, was fitting. She’d always been starving for something she couldn’t name, because she hadn’t experienced it. Now she had.

A man’s touch. A man’s affection.

Now she was hungrier than ever, and that could only be a bad thing.

Seven

Warmth. Softness. Comfort.

Arik moaned at the luxury. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the black starkness of his cell, but instead, a palm-frond fan spun in lazy circles from a pearly-white ceilin Nng g, and an ocean breeze and warm sunlight streamed through open windows.

Dreaming. He was dreaming again. Man, he loved to dream. For just a little while, he could find peace and a small measure of relief from the constant starvation and pain.

Closing his eyes, he rolled… and bumped into a warm body. A warm female body. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. Her tropical scent, like suntan lotion and rum, filled his nostrils.

He should shove Limos out of the bed and flat on her ass. But this was a dream, she was hot, and this was the best he’d felt since he’d been tossed into the cell.

In a heartbeat, he had her tucked beneath him, his mouth on hers, and his hips cradled between her spread legs. She let out a squeal of surprise and indignation, but he silenced it with his tongue.

Ooh, and handy… he was naked. Usually in these dreams, he had to strip.

Or let Limos do the stripping for him.

Her hands came up to his shoulders, almost tentatively, which struck him as odd, since in all the dreams before this, she’d been aggressive, a demanding tigress who either took what she wanted or made him work for what he wanted.

Now she was all timid kitten, which had to be a game.

Her palms slid lightly down his back,