“Janjaweed! They come!”Angelique Vernet bolted upright, looking wildly around the room, a scream lodged in her throat. “Fuck.” She muttered the curse as softly as possible so as not to wake her companion. Whoever he was. Arnaud something or other. She could never remember their names. He was just another in a line of pretty French boys meant to distract her from the nightmares.