The paper crinkled as Julian unfolded it, and I watched his brows knit together as he read what I’d written. “Silas is looking for the apokropos stone?”
I merely blinked in response — careful to appear utterly indifferent to Silas’s whims.
The lines between Julian’s brows deepened, and I didn’t have to ask why. The stone was one-of-a-kind — practically myth.
I knew the risks of hunting for such a thing. The stone was so unique and so valuable that I was sure to attract unwanted attention if the wrong people heard I was searching for it. But I also knew that I’d need the stone if I had any hope of escaping Silas for good.
“Why?” asked Julian, those chilly blue eyes boring into mine.
A flutter of unease went through me, but I fixed Julian with a look that said, quite plainly, that I could shred him with two swipes of my blade.
“I don’t know,” I said coldly, resting my elbows on the back of the chair and leaning forward with a sneer. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Julian paled, but then cleared his throat and arranged his expression into one of professional calm. “I’m sure I don’t have to tellSilasthat tracking down such an item is not as simple as finding a buyer for vampire blood.” His nostrils flared. “It would take much more than his usual currency to purchase such a rare and valuable item, if such a thing even exists.”
The emphasis he placed on Silas’s name was so subtle that anyone else might have missed it, but it was enough to make my blood run cold. Those pale-blue eyes narrowed briefly before traveling down to the holster at my thigh, where the metallic hilt of my witchwood blade gleamed in the dim light cast by the desk lamp.
The dealer didn’t have magic, but I sometimes felt as though he did. My hand twitched for the runed hilt of the dagger, but I forced myself to plant both palms on the back of the chair.
“Name your price,” I said, my voice casual despite my violently pounding heart.
A cruel half smile twisted Julian’s lips. We both knew what he wanted.
While my whole body was sheathed with weapons designed to kill supernaturals, the witchwood dagger was nearly as legendary as the stone I sought. It was an iron-rich blade magically forged around a rowan-wood core and enchanted with beautiful swirling runes most witches had long forgotten the meaning of.
Any hunter would kill for a dagger like mine, and not just because they were so rare. Witchwood blades were the only weapons in existence that could kill a demon. And though the Quarter hadn’t seen a demon in decades, the cold iron also made it deadly to fae.
It was the only piece of my past that I had left, but I’d think about that later — what I was willing to sacrifice to escape this hellhole. To escape Silas and my debt.
Sucking in a breath through my nostrils, I turned toward the door and gave Julian my back — a subtle but pointed maneuver that said I didn’t see him as a threat.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be discreet,” I said. “I’ll be back in a month with the usual shipment. That should give you ample time to locate the stone.”
Chapter
Two
Icouldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in my gut as I left Julian’s shop and made my way back to the heart of the Quarter. Somehow, he’d guessed that Silaswasn’tlooking for the apokropos stone, though I didn’t think he’d give up my secret.
Julian was a businessman. And although Silas was an important connection in his black-market pipeline, he had no real loyalties to anyone.
Besides, Julian didn’t have any reason to cross paths with Silas. Silas never made the drops on his own — never risked being caught trafficking vampires or their blood. He had us to do his dirty work.
I couldn’t worry about Julian now. I had work to do.
I found my score for the night in the alleyway behind one of the seedier bars in the Quarter. He was fang-deep in a skinny, fair-haired mortal, who was so weak from blood loss that he could no longer stand.
Cold, invigorating hatred thrummed in my veins as I watched the vampire feed. He was standing with his back tome — so blood drunk he didn’t seem to hear my approach as I drew a sharpened hickory stake from the leather loops sewn into my jacket.
There was nothing unfair about attacking a vampire when his back was turned — at least, not to me. Vampires were vile, ruthless monsters with superhuman speed and strength. To them, humans were little more than livestock. They didn’t care how many they killed to sate their unending thirst.
I raised my stake, aiming for the spot Silas had taught me — a strike to incapacitate, not to kill.
But before I could drive my stake home, there was a nasty squelching sound, and the vamp whipped around to face me. I froze. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, making his pale face seem even more corpse-like.
He released his grip on the man’s shirt, and the mortal collapsed on the filthy pavement.
For a heartbeat, we just stared at one another. The vampire’s eyes were as red as the blood pooling along his clavicle, hooded and unfocused from a long night of feeding. He looked dazed and annoyed for the split second it took for him to register the stake in my hand. I saw the instant he decided to end me before resuming his meal.
