It was a strange thing, killing.

  Vares had lost count of how many souls he’d claimed over the course of his life, but this he’d done it all more with a supreme sense of indifference than any real joy at the prospect.

  Even in the circumstances where one deserved to be despised and put down—like, say, the cross-eyed—Vares preferred to think of more creative alternatives: cutting his name into their skin, lopping off a few digits, or putting a baby in their wife’s belly.

  Killing was, truly, only meant for men who were untamable forces of nature. Such as myself, thought Vares.

  Which is why when this sly bugger Nik had said he wanted Vares to kill his boss, a certain Anders, he’d naturelly imagined a formidable monster that required swift and brutal handling.

  Instead, Vares now gazed at a green-jacket wearing fool that struck him as a circus performer gone mad.

  The one thing that stood out to him immediately was the color of Anders’ eyes. So intensely red that it showed he not only took rezzam as a drug, but dined on it liberally as every course.

  Even on his best days, Vares could not imagine taking so much as to achieve such results, nor could he begin to imagine what its effects might be. Where would he even find that much of it to begin with? Just a pinch of the stuff was worth a man’s life.

  The intense glow of Anders’ eyes showed that he not only had it on hand—the man was drowning in it.

  And what sense did that make? Windust, as far as Vares could tell, was the asshole of this region of the world. Dice games and pimping girls were one thing—you could probably find those activities at the ends of the eart; but what could green jacket over here be doing to amass such striking amounts?

  These observations took place in the small time since Nik entered Vares’ room, accompanied by Anders and two far-more impressive bodyguards…

  The black one reminded Vares of other black-skinned fellows he’d met from the deep south from Neyyem and Tirasa. Big, strong, capable, headstrong, loyal, hearty, and fun-loving—the opposite of this ratty Nik he’d been dealing with since his arrival.

  The woman’s appearance caused his beastly instincts to surge. The sight of her, so tall, so boyish, so self-assured and imposing, immediately caused him to wonder what it take to have her bent over and crying like a little girl.

  Nik glanced at the bed where the whore still remained, frozen stiff at the sight of the new arrivals. “Get out of here Dayna. Get down to the Room.”

  She ran quickly, time during which Vares and Anders eyed one another. Once the door closed, Nik turned to Anders and said, “This man is the one who claims to be a captain. Captain Vares Reed, to be precise. He arrived here with only a monkey to his name.”

  Anders’ eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Then he grinned widely. “We have met before Vares Reed.”

  Now that, he had not expected to hear. “We have?”

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  Anders glanced impatiently at his two bodyguards and dismissed them with a careless hand gesture. “Leave us.” As the two began to move, his swiveled to Nik. The slightest tilt of his head indicated that it was time for Nik to go as well. Intimidated, almost with pathetic slavishness, Nik bobbed his head and bowed slightly, rushing past his boss.

  Then they were alone.

  Anders walked over to the half-empty glass on the window sill and raised it to his nose. He sniffed it, grimaced, then placed it back. “I’ve always found drinking a contemptible trait. Though at times it’s… understandable. It dulls the senses. The place I come from is a very cold one. Just about every man knows another who got too drunk during winter to find his way back home, only to freeze to death in the streets. My father died like that. So did my uncle and great-grandfather.”

  Anders gave Vares a look, giggled darkly, then downed the alcohol with a loud gulp. “Piss, what Nik serves here. Just empty fucking piss.”

  At that, Vares finally grinned. “Now there we can agree.”

  “So, what did he offer you? In exchange for killing me, that is.”

  The question caused Vares’ heart to jump. He trusted Nik from a first impression to be a smooth enough snake not to let his intentions known.

  “Kill you?”

  Anders laughed without a worry in the world. “He hasn’t asked you yet? Then he surely will.”

  He doesn’t know then. Gods, why do you test me so? “And how do you know?”

  “Because I’ve seen you in my dreams, Vares Reed. Your face. Your eyes. Your hand driving a dagger through my chest. And Nik has always been ambitious… No doubt when coming across a man like you he’d smell opportunity. But be careful with him, I keep him around for a reason: as sly and devious as you think he might be, he’s far better.” Anders laughed again, joyfully, like a child beset with endless gifts. “That’s why I like him.”

  Suddenly, he rushed over to Vares across the room, almost pouncing on him, his gaze locked. “Your eyes are dull. You haven’t had rezzam in days, I’d reckon. How many?”

  The more Anders spoke, the more Vares got the feeling he was dealing with a strange madman. But a madman that’s got access to what I need, and a lot of it. The fact that he might have a near-endless supply only made it more likely he’d share a bit. If Nik truly wanted him dead, then he needed to have a better offer than just letting Vares loot a little.

  At the same time, every other part of Vares untainted by the addiction that was still kicking, the parts stuffed deep inside that hadn’t been sweetened by the rezzam, screamed with disgust at the sight of this Anders, identifying him as a great danger. Not like a tiger, though—more like a lethally poisonous frog.

  “How does a man all the way out of here have and know so much about rezzam?” Vares said.

  Anders padded over to look out the window. Quite restless, isn’t he?

  “Big things are happening here, Vares Reed.”

  “Captain Vares Reed.”

  The correction caused Anders to scoff mockingly, as if such terms held no value. “I watched them wipe out your ship, you know.”

  The words made his breath hitch. What was this crazed jester saying? “You did?”

  “I did, because the Soverni ship had left here—friends of mine. It just so happened to see you as you and your crew were passing by. Had I known that you would be approaching, I’d have warned them against it. But I never saw that in my dreams, nor your ship—only you. To think that you’re a pirate! Now that is a twist. I did see the way their weapons dealt with you, though. Impressive things, aren’t they? How did you survive that?” he asked, eyes once again narrowing with genuine interest.

  For the first time in his life, Vares felt naked. He could not remember ever feeling this way before. It was one thing to be bested in a duel, or to lose a woman to another man, even to flee from a losing battle like a dog.

  But he had never, ever, in his forty-eight years of life, felt so humiliangly naked, like a child caught taking a shit in the middle of a room.

  Anders waited for an answer, half-smiling, arms behind his back. When it didn’t come, he laughed energetically again, savoring the moment. “You can speak to me as a brother, Vares Reed. Look into my eyes, are we not brothers? The gods sent you here for a reason, after all. This is destined.”

  Vares smirked back darkly in turn, refusing to be walked over so easily. “And what reason is that?”

  Anders drew the curtains closed, his red eyes almost burning in the gloom that descended. “Why, to be enlightened.”