Page 28 of Ravenous
“Demon gangs have, but we could undercut them. Plus, they get sloppy and tend not to return from various jobs.” Her old gang had. She’d watched them vanish into the Helter and never return.
On the sentries’ next round, Inkletter said in a low tone, “Why would you stay here after your coup? You have enough gold to leave and enjoy many years of comfort.”
“I could potentially live forever, and I plan to. I need hundreds of those chests, and the nobles here are some of my best customers.” They purchased intoxispells and glamours and luxuries like the blood of rare cryptid beasts.
“You’re taking a lot of risk.”
If the royal family found out she’d helped Emilia, they wouldn’t kill Nadje, not for a long time. Since full immortals could regenerate without the mercy of death, she might be tormented for centuries.
Devising tortures for regenerating bodies was a passion for some in the Skein. Still, she said, “I’m accustomed to risk and can tolerate it. Can you?”
“I can if the rewards are commensurate. What job do you need my help with?”
A precarious one.He would either die—problem solved—or survive and prove himself a worthy partner. Without a teleporter, she’d given up hope of completing it herself. Inkletter offered a chance, but not a great one. Giving him one-in-ten odds of making it back from this fiery area in the Skein, she smiled at him, flashing her sharp fangs, and teed up his scenario.
Chapter 12Inkletter
“This task didn’t require two of us,” Nadje muttered with irritation as she and Ink approached the Firis River, also known as the River of Hell. Even from a distance, its molten current cast a dull crimson light across the night and radiated a sultry heat. Voice sharp, she added, “I expected you to go alone, to demonstrate what you’re capable of.”
Ink adjusted the staff slung across his back. A stone bowl hung from one end by a short length of chain—the peculiar tool she’d given him with little explanation. “Thistaskmight be deadly,” he said. At best, it was baffling. At worst, it hid a lethal trap. “I will demonstrate for you what I’m capable of. Up close.”
The vampire glared.
“What exactly did you think would happen to me after I set off to do your bidding?”
She waved a careless hand. “Any time you inch near the Helter, things get strange.” Tonight she’d traded her slippers and dress for worn trousers and sturdy boots. Sensible. If one expected to run. She’d also belted her sword at her side. “That’s why the pay is so high.”
Only the desperate or the damned came this close to the Helter, and they tended to strike first and ask questions later. Any encounter could be one’s last.
“Logically,” he said, “you should want to get rid of me. I alone know your secrets. So if you want me to return you to your room as easily as I just took you from it, you’ll ensure I survive the night.”
“Your teleportation is valuable to me,” she said simply.
He nodded without warmth. “A successful outcome suits you. An unsuccessful one suits you. Or at least it did before I forced you to come along.”
The faint flush rising in her cheeks told him all he needed to know.
She was hiding something. Again. And this mission—on paper so simple—reeked of complications. So he had traced her with him.If I go down, so shall you, little flame.
He hoped she wasn’t spinning a second web around him. In truth, his accounts were less robust than he remembered. Rare books weren’t a hobby of the unemployed, so Nadje’s promised payment glimmered like salvation.
Plus, he still wanted to solve the mystery of why he’d reacted so strongly to the plump blood drinker. “Now that we’re here, you can divulge who the buyer is.”
She raised her chin. “He’s a moneyed warlock. I’ll explain more once we’re at the meeting place.”
“And where might that be?”
“I’ll reveal that once we have our prize in hand. Patience, incubus. I need to protect myself.”
“From me?”
“You could trace me across the river and abandon me in the Helter, surrounded by monsters. Then take the meeting yourself.”
“Didn’t you survive the Badlands?” he asked. “Can the Helter be much worse?”
Her gaze went distant, her mind clearly turned to memories. “Maybe not. The strigoi of the Badlands attack regular vampires with a particular viciousness, like aresentment. Or appetite.” A shadow crossed her face. “I’d prefer the Helter’s beasts. Their motives seem purer.”
Ink inclined his head. Everyone had their specific fears, the limits of what they could tolerate.I have my own.He frowned down at the vampire as she sauntered beside him.
