Part One
PREDATORS AND PREY
1
Between the blood on her hands and the beer on her cloak, it was shaping up to be a horrible evening.
‘Bitch,’ the man snarled as he clutched his nose. The blood seeping between his fingers added to the steady drip of beer that flowed off the bar, left there by his shattered mug.
Aya merely dragged her palms down the leather of her pants, a frown creasing her brow as she took in the stains of red on her hands.
Tova would never let her hear the end of this. Her friend was always commenting on Aya’s ability to come back to the Quarter covered in someone else’s bodily fluids and smelling like she’d bathed in a pig’s trough. But she was never truly surprised. Aya, as the Queen’s Third, had certainly seen her fair share of blood. The Queen’s Eyes, they called her. Gianna’s spymaster.
‘Touch me again, and I’ll break something you hold far more dear,’ Aya crooned to the man. She was no stranger to the mess of the Squal, having tracked the men there three times in the last two weeks alone. But the drunk, handsy patron had snapped the ever-shortening leash she kept on her temper.
No one had even batted an eye when she struck him. The Squal attracted the worst of Dunmeaden and its visitors – gamblers and brawlers and thieves. Apparently, Aya fit right in.
The man stormed off, still swearing, and Aya shot the barkeep a coy smile. He’d been eyeing her all night –everynight she’d been here, actually. He ambled over now, hisbroad frame gobbling up what little light flickered behind the bar.
‘Nice form,’ he said with a smirk. He rubbed a hand over his hairless head, his biceps rippling with the movement. All Zeluus – those blessed with superior strength – were practically walking giants. This one had the ego to match. ‘I’ll have to charge you for the glass though.’
Aya unfastened her cloak and tossed it onto the stool next to her as she leaned a hip against the bar. ‘Perhaps I could find another way to make it up to you.’
His eyes lit at the suggestion, his thick forearms bracing on the counter. ‘I know how to throw a punch too, you know. Have I told you about the time I took on two Anima with my bare hands?’ She’d heard the story twice. He loved to brag about his days as a ring fighter. The first time he’d shared it, Aya had hardly been able to keep from rolling her eyes. While the Anima used their life and death affinity to serve mostly as healers, they could be lethal. A simple touch of their hand, and one’s pulse could be lowered in seconds. Even a Zeluus like the keep couldn’t stand against them.
She was fairly certain Anima were banned from ring fights, anyway.
Aya leaned in closer, willing her face into rapt interest as he launched into the tale again. She smiled blandly and twirled her dark brown hair around her finger as the keep droned on, his arms gesturing wildly.
Carefully, she let her affinity flow from her.
No shield. Excellent.
‘Howdida strong fighter like you end up in a place like this anyway?’ she asked as she took a sip of her beer. His gaze followed the path of her tongue as she licked the foam from her lips.
He shrugged. ‘It’s not all bad. I’m management, you know.’
Aya forced her eyes wide. ‘Are youreally? So is that your office you keep sneaking back to then?’ She nodded toward the guarded back hall to the left of the bar. She knew full well a shithole like this didn’t have an office. But she let her hand dance across the sliver of space between them, her fingers tracing the Corpsoma tattoo on his wrist – a circle, with a line through the middle. ‘Perhaps we could go there. Seems more … private.’
The keep shook his head. ‘Not my office.’ He paused and looked around. ‘I really shouldn’t say, but …’
She pushed her affinity harder, and the man continued, oblivious to how she persuaded the information from his mind and mouth.
‘Two men have been making visits here for weeks. From Trahir, I reckon, given their accents. They don’t bother to filter their talk around me. But I listen.’ He glanced around them again before leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘They’re buying weapons outside the Council. I’m thinking I can get a cut of it in exchange for not turning them in.’
‘Really,’ Aya breathed. As the primary weapons provider for the realm, the Tala Merchant Council had always been mindful of regulating their weapons trade and how much they sold to the other kingdoms.
Apparently, Trahir had had enough.
The keep grinned. ‘Dealing under the table is no joke. I have leverage.’ He dragged his eyes down her body, his stare lingering at the deep neckline of her black sweater. ‘Maybe I’ll buy some of your time. You’re too pretty to be working the Squal.’
Aya kept a coy smile fixed on her face as he reached forward and cupped her chin, his thumb stroking her jaw.
Disgusting. And disgustingly easy.
Persis couldn’t manipulate. They could only persuade someone to do whatever they were willing to do. But that willingness didn’t have to be strong – especially for a Persi like Aya.
She leaned closer, enough for her breath to brush across his lips. ‘You can’t afford me.’
