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It was clearly on his mind, too, as he stayed back.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and sat down on the sofa rock. Unfolding the fabric wrap, he took out a loaf of white bread, and as he bit into it, she thought his hand shook. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t.

Leaning forward, he offered her the thing. “You better eat. You’re going to need to be strong for what’s coming.”

In contrast, as she reached out, her hand trembled visibly, and when she took a bite of what he had brought for her, her mouth was so dry, she didn’t think she could chew. She did, though. And she was hungry again—

“Your shoulder is bothering you?” he asked as he tried the cheese.

“What—oh, I don’t know.” She looked down at her arm. “It’s fine.”

“You need to feed.” He held out some cheese. “Soon.”

“I am eating—” Nyx stopped as she realized he was talking about her taking a vein. “Oh. Ah . . . I think I’m fine.”

“We can talk about that later.” He opened a container of Kool-Aid, or whatever that red-colored drink was. After he took a sip, he put the bottle forward. “Here.”

Nyx set the bread in her lap, placed the cheese on the ground in its wrapper, and took the liquid. As she swallowed deeply from the bottle, she realized she was parched.

Lowering the container from her mouth, she stared across at Jack. His brilliant blue eyes were locked on the waterfall, but she had a feeling he wasn’t seeing anything. The far-off look on his face suggested he was thinking of options for her.

For her safety and her escape.

Even after everything she’d said to him, he was still taking care of her.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “You know, that I jumped down your throat earlier. ”

“There’s no reason to discuss any of that.” He shook his head and seemed to refocus. “But how did you get away from the guards?”

To hide her emotions, Nyx took a bite of the cheese. Drank some more. Ate more bread.

Then she frowned. “How did you know about the guards?”

The Jackal still couldn’t believe he was sitting across from his female—and thank God he had snagged those meal provisions.

As he had rushed here from his cell, heart in throat, terror ripping through his body, he had passed an abandoned food-delivery cart and taken a serving on a lark.

The fuck it was on a lark. He had grabbed the bundle as a talisman, as if maybe the food he had for her would ensure her presence, her survival. Such bullshit.

The only thing he’d known for sure was that if she was alive, she would come here.

When he had seen the single lit candle, off in the distance, at the terminus of the passageway he had ducked into, he had felt a glimmer of hope. And then, as he had willed the candles on and she had been there . . . he had wanted to throw himself at her. Embrace her. Feel the warmth of her body.

Mindful of her low opinion of him, he had stayed back.

And he had taken her current apology for what it was: gratitude for the food.

What had she asked of him? Oh . . . right.

“The guards went through all the cells and performed a bed check. During the process, one of them rushed up to the others and reported the disturbance.” He was not going to speak about the Command around her. “But they said they had you at gunpoint. I don’t understand how you made it back here.”

“I dematerialized,” she said in between bites of bread and cheese.

Fates, but the malest part of him—stupid as it was—was gratified to see her eat the sustenance he had brought to her, but he was worried about that shoulder. There was a fresh bloodstain on the tunic he’d forced her to put on—

“Wait, what?” Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he leaned forward. “You dematerialized?”

Surely he had misheard that.

Nyx shrugged and took another drink from the glass bottle. There was a soft pop as she released the seal of her lips around the open neck. “The guards were in front of me and I was up against some kind of dropped-down steel wall. I couldn’t retreat any farther, there was no going forward, and I wasn’t going to win a shoot-out with them. So I did the only thing I could. I got the hell out of there.”

The Jackal blinked. “I can’t . . . how did you do that? How did you calm yourself?”

“I just made it happen. You do what you have to do in situations.” She took another long drink, nearly finishing what was in the glass container. Then she tacked on dryly, “Which was how I ended up down here in the first place. Anyway, do you want any of this?”

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