The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 1)

“No, thank you. I brought everything for you.” He found himself continuing to shake his head. “That is . . . remarkable. That you could have the presence of mind, the self-control, in that confrontation to save yourself.”

“Like I said, it was just what I had to do.” She picked at the bread, pulling free a soft wedge from the center. “And now I’m here.”

“I have another way to get you out.” When she looked up sharply, he told himself he felt nothing. At all. “The work shifts have been canceled, and as soon as they’re reinstated, I’ll take you out that way. They’ll be behind in production, and there will be a scramble to catch up. I’ll bet they double up on workers and the chaos will be in our favor.”

There was a long silence, and he was confused. “What.”

“You’re helping me.” She chewed slowly. “Again. Even though I owe you an apology.”

The Jackal watched the candlelight play over her face. She had a scratch on her cheek. Dirt on her forehead. Hair that had frizzed up by her left ear.

She looked worn-out, and he preferred her full of piss and vinegar, even if she was yelling at him, even if her comments were unfair. It meant she could fight. And he knew, without asking or waiting to see if he was wrong, that the food was not going to revive her enough.

For what was ahead of her, she was going to need more physical strength and mental acuity than those prison rations could give her.

“You have to feed.” As her brows rose, he put his palm out at her. “You’re bleeding, again, and I bet you don’t even know it.”

The way she looked at her shoulder answered that one.

He cursed softly. “If we’re going to get you through this, you need to be strong, and you’ve used up a lot of your energy. You know this, too.”

She muttered something under her breath. “I don’t want to . . .”

“You don’t want it to be me? Fine. Use Kane. He’s a gentlemale and will not take advantage of the . . . shall we say, situation—”

“I don’t want to have anyone but you,” she said sharply. And then the fight went out of her fast. “I just don’t want to use you again.”

“When have you used me up until now?”

“Really? You’re asking that?”

“I volunteered.” Besides, he had needed her for his own purposes—so they were even. “And I am volunteering my vein, if that’s what you want.”

“I can’t believe you’re still helping me.” Her eyes went back on the food, which she’d stopped eating. “You’re a saint.”

“Not even close,” he said bitterly. “Remember how I ended up in this prison?”

“You said you didn’t touch the female.” Her eyes flashed up. “You said you were falsely accused.”

“And you didn’t believe me. So I’m merely dubbing in your thoughts.”

“You don’t know what’s on my mind.”

The Jackal stretched out, crossing his feet at the ankles. “Yes, I do. Now, finish the food and we can argue about you taking my vein—”

Nyx cut him off. “I was angry at you before because I don’t understand why you wouldn’t free yourself from this. Especially if you’re here under false pretenses, because someone lied about you.” She shook her head. “I was also pissed off because you know my reason for coming here, and I resent the fact that you didn’t tell me yours for staying.”

Before he could respond, she rubbed her eyes. “Look, I know that doesn’t make any sense. And things don’t need to be fair between us. But that’s—well, that’s why I said what I did, and I’m sorry. You’re right. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and you owe me nothing. Not even explanations.”

After a moment, the Jackal sat up. “It’s safer for you not to know anything.”

Nyx shook her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“That’s the truth, though. The less you know about me, the less danger you’re in.”

“Can you at least tell me why? Why you stay?”

As her eyes rose to his again, his heart skipped a beat in his chest. She was so beautiful to him, even in her disheveled state—or maybe especially because of it, given her unbelievable feat of self-preservation— and he entertained a brief, vivid fantasy of them on the outside, up above, back before Ellany had spread her lies and Jabon had done something about them and then so many other, more terrible things had happened.

“You’re right,” Nyx whispered in the candlelight. “There is a you and me. I didn’t want to acknowledge it because I don’t want to feel as crushed as I do—you know, when I think about me leaving . . . and you not. It kills me, even though it shouldn’t. The reason I was so mad . . . is that I want you to come with me.”