Blood Heir. Amelie Wen Zhao

her plan hadn’t all gone to … nothing. “I don’t care if you don’t have a clue who he is or where he is. You’re going to help me find the alchemist, and you’re going to do it in two weeks. I’ve heard enough of your reputation, and I know you’re capable of it.”

      He had to be. All other searches, paid bounty hunters or trackers, had led to dead ends. Ramson Quicktongue was her last chance.

      Ana didn’t say that.

      Quicktongue raised his brows. “You’ve heard enough of my reputation,” he repeated, as though savoring the words on his tongue. He almost looked pleased, but then his eyes narrowed. “And what makes you think I’ll help you, now that I’m free as a bird?”

      Conniving, backstabbing con man. If he wanted to play dirty, so be it.

      She could threaten him. The thought had been lingering in her mind for a while: an ugly, twisted thing she hadn’t wanted to bring into the light.

       Show him what you can do, my little monster.

      “You remember what I did in the prison?” The memory of crimson pooling across white marble halls flashed across her mind. It sickened her to bring it up, but she pressed on. “I could do the same to you.” She took a step closer, exhilaration pushing her forward, the thrill of danger drawing her toward him. “Can you imagine how it would feel to die with blood leaking from you, drop by drop?”

      “I’ll admit, that hurt.” He wet his lips. “But there are worse things to fear in life. Whatever torture you’re thinking of, I’ve probably been through it. I suppose that makes it extremely difficult to threaten me, doesn’t it?”

      Ana drew a tight breath. He was bluffing—he had to be. And he was challenging her to call his bluff. His eyes crinkled as he watched her, waiting for her response. Those eyes were cunning eyes, quick and intelligent … but they weren’t coward’s eyes. They held no fear.

      He would learn to fear her. Just like everybody else did.

      Ana shot him her most feral grin. Her Affinity stirred. Against the remnants of the Deys’voshk, it was still weak, but growing stronger. “So many others sang the same tune at first. I had them groveling at my feet within minutes.”

      “You sound like you have experience.”

      “You know nothing of what I’ve been through. I’m going to ask you one more time, and I hope for your sake you’ll give the right answer. Will you help me find my alchemist?”

      “I will.”

      Ana blinked. The sinister thoughts, the twisted memories, and the pull of her Affinity dissolved. All that was left was the crackling of fire in the hearth, the splashing sounds from the wash closet, and a child’s muffled humming.

      “You look startled.” Ramson Quicktongue raised his eyebrows.

      If she had gotten her way, why did it feel like he’d won? Ana crossed her arms, her brain whirring even as she spoke. What had she missed? “I don’t believe you.” What are you playing at?

      “A wise decision. I’m a businessman, after all.” His gaze sharpened. “I never give anything without asking for something in return.”

      Anger rose in her, sharp and hot. “In return? I broke you out of that prison. I saved you from rotting in that cell. You owe me.”

      “I didn’t ask you to free me. I suggested an exchange, but we agreed to nothing.” Quicktongue spoke conversationally, as though they were bartering over the price of beets at a marketplace.

      Ana was bargaining for her life.

      “So, I don’t owe you anything, Witch,” he continued, picking at a fingernail. “But I’d be willing to speak the language of deals.”

      Her voice came out in a snarl. “You think you’re in a position to ask for something?”

      “Oh, I do. You’ve been threatening me with torture for the past few minutes. If you actually wanted to do it, you would’ve done it already. Clearly, you need me. So let’s stop dancing around the topic and get to the bargain, shall we?”

      He had called her bluff. Ana’s heart hammered as she stared back at the con man, refusing to break eye contact first. Papa had always taught her that strong eye contact was a show of confidence. But even as she scrambled for a response, she found her confidence waning.

      Brat. She heard her brother’s voice in her head, saw the glint of intelligence in his eyes as he leaned over their game of chess. Think.

      Luka had told her that a negotiation was like a game of chess. To succeed, one had to consider the endgame above all else. It had seemed like such an obvious lesson at the time, but Ana found herself clutching it tightly to her now. Her goal—her endgame—was to get him to find the alchemist, the true murderer. And now the con man wanted something more from her in return.

      Why not? After all, what more did she have to lose?

      Perhaps not every move needed to be a triumphant one, as long as she was moving toward her endgame.

      “What is it that you want?” she asked, lifting her chin. This way, it was easy to pretend that she was a princess granting a favor, not a nobody begging for help.

      “Revenge,” said the con man.

      “And you think I can help you achieve that?”

      “Perhaps. You are, after all, threatening me with your power over my mortal being.”

      Of course—of course he wanted to use her for her Affinity. Ana narrowed her eyes. Luka’s voice whispered to her, gently pushing her on. Be specific. Flesh out the details. “Tell me what your revenge scheme entails. And be specific.”

      Quicktongue’s smile widened as though he found something delightful in her response. “All right, I’ll be specific. I plan to destroy my enemies one by one and take back my position and what was rightfully mine. For that, I’ll need an ally. Someone powerful. And by the Deities”—he gave her a look that was somehow both caressing and calculating at the same time—“you must be the most powerful flesh Affinite I’ve ever seen.”

      Flesh Affinite. Ana almost let out a breath in relief. Flesh, not blood. She’d kept her secret well, and it was imperative that Ramson Quicktongue continue to think she was a flesh Affinite. Because while there were hundreds of flesh Affinites, working as butchers or soldiers or guards, there was only one Blood Witch of Salskoff.

      Ramson Quicktongue was not as smart as he thought he was.

      “I won’t kill anyone for you, if that’s what you want.”

      “Kill? I never said ‘kill.’ I said ‘destroy.’ There are many ways to destroy a man besides taking his life.”

      The bartenders and bounty hunters had described Ramson Quicktongue as cunning and ruthless. She hadn’t understood them until now.

      Ana steeled her nerves. She dictated the terms, not him. And she would never choose to harm innocent people.

      Really, now? Sadov whispered in her head. Little monster, do you think yourself so righteous? Do you really think you’re above this con man, when you have so much blood on your hands—

      “No torture,” Ana said loudly. “No killing. I am to decide how to use my Affinity in our alliance. I’ll ensure that no harm comes to you, and that you can dispatch your enemies as you wish. If you agree to those terms, I’ll pledge my alliance to you for two weeks. After you’ve found my alchemist.”

      He narrowed his eyes, tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully. “Three weeks,” he said. “And in return, I want three weeks to find your alchemist as well.”

      “We agreed on two.”

      “I never agreed; I considered.”