As he followed Nik up the stairs to his office, a flare-up of insecurity shook Petyr. Does he not like me either?

  All this time, he’d always assumed Nik was his friend despite the obvious differences between them in age and occupation, but after what Avesta had told him, maybe there was no real friendship there at all. Maybe he just does it for my dad.

  Petyr’s breath caught in his throat as he crossed the threshold. Nik’s office, usually so warm and perfumy, felt strangely chilly now, the dim light passing through the drawn curtains making it feel like a deep shadow dominated the interior.

  Nik himself moved in a way that lacked energy too, as if whatever stress he had been enduring was piling on. Was this guilt? Or something else entirely? “Close the door,” he said.

  Petyr sat down in front of him, hands on his thighs, smiling awkwardly. What was he supposed to say?

  Nik sighed with exhaustion, grabbed a bottle, and poured himself a drink, then took a sip. “You shouldn’t lose any sleep over the thing with Jayne, Petyr. I’ll settle that.”

  “But… we don’t know who did it.”

  “I know that,” he said firmly. “But I’ll find whoever is responsible. Don’t put yourself in any danger, you understand? You just leave the matter to me. You weren’t that close to her, were you?”

  The knots in Petyr’s stomach only got worse. Just the way Nik posed the question rubbed him the wrong way. As if, somehow, if she were simply insignificant enough, the whole issue could be brushed under the rug. He tried to tell himself that Nik didn’t mean it that way, that this was just his manner of speaking…

  But he knew better than that.

  And, in a way, it was true, wasn’t it? People dropped, rotted, and became dust on the wind. That was how things typically went in Windust.

  How Petyr himself reacted to the death of Dayna’s father was a prime example of just that: finding Blind Bill hanging from a tree had been an unsettling shock; but it didn’t exactly motivate him to stick his neck out and risk his life to get to the bottom of why he had to die.

  Like everyone else, he’d accepted it and moved on.

  It was probably what he should’ve done now with Jayne.

  But… Even if Mora believed in the pirate’s innocence, Petyr couldn’t shake the nagging doubts crawling through his mind. People lied all the time in Windust; Nik definitely did. What if he saw some business opportunity with this bastard? What if Vares Reed was the killer and Nik thought it expedient not to care?

  Just the thought that he was being talked down to and manipulated like a child made his heart pound in his chest. All these last two days had shown him was that he was always the last one to be in on whatever was going on. Not anymore.

  Nik’s dark eyes stayed on him and seemed to read his thoughts. “Don’t worry about Vares Reed. I promise you, he’s not the one who did this.”

  In that moment, all he wanted to do was grab Nik by the throat and punch him until his black face turned bloody red. “How do you know?”

  “Because little Mora was the one who brought him here, and they arrived from the opposite direction. Jayne’s body was found in one of the fields not far from her place.”

  “Still, I—”

  The door groaned before he could finish his sentence.

  Petyr glanced behind him, wondering who it could be.

  A pair of red eyes appeared as the door cracked open.

  “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Anders said with a sly smile, taking a perverse joy in the idea that he might be. He slithered into the room, each movement deliberate, soundlessly closing the door behind him.

  Nik got up and offered him his seat, at which point Petyr realized he should do the same and stood up. “No, no, you two finish your conversation,” Anders said facetiously. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

  The way he smiled, with his lips pulling back to reveal two rows of perfectly white and even teeth, as if he were brandishing them, reveling in his predatory superiority, made Petyr’s skin crawl. Just the eerie way he moved, perfectly controlled, yet smooth and serpentine, lacking all grace, left him wary. He was like another lifeform wearing a human’s skin.

  Nik acted unbothered and placed a hand on Petyr’s back, nudging him towards the door. “We were done anyway.”

  Anders’ eyes narrowed. “This Squeezer’s kid?”

  Squeezer. The word, said so casually, so thoughtlessly, sent chills through Petyr. It was the worst time ever to receive a confirmation that Avesta was right about everything she’d said.

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  My dad… he works… for this guy? It was difficult to take in.

  Nik kept pushing Petyr away from his boss, as if terrified to leave him there a moment longer. “That’s right. Good kid. Real good kid.”

  Anders tilted his head with amusement at Petyr. Out of nowhere, he placed a hand over his heart and bowed theatrically. “Tell your magnificent father I send him my warmest greetings.”

  He felt the weight of Anders’ gaze long after the words left his mouth. It wasn’t just a casual statement—there was something loaded in it, something that pricked his spine and threatened to dissolve it.

  “I… w-w-will…” Petyr croaked, and scared and confused, gulping, barely able to vocalize a real response.

  Nik dragged him past the threshold and was about to close the door. Afraid he might not get another chance to ask about Jayne, Petyr slammed his arm against it to stop it from closing. “Where is…”

  Nik gave him an angry look as Anders stood behind him, clearly wanting to close the door and end the matter as quickly as possible.

  Petyr remembered why he’d come all this way, however. For Jayne. Sure, the two of them hadn’t been that close. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to sleep with her, unfortunately. And sure, he probably wouldn’t have cared how her life went in the future if she hadn’t been killed like this.

  But the idea that her death could be treated with such indignity, just…

  I can’t let that happen, he thought, himself unsure of where this internal determination came from. Something deep inside insisted that he do something about it. Anything.

  “Where is Jayne? Where’s her b-body?…” he said, his voice breaking near the end.

  Nik clicked his tongue quietly. Anders narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about a body?”

  “Nothing,” said Nik quickly, tone wholly disinterest. “Just a girl that was killed. Not one of ours. Petyr, her father has the body. He’s probably burned it already. Just leave it alone, all right?”

  Before Petyr got a chance to answer, Anders slid past Nik and opened the door wide so all three of them could see each other properly. “Tell me about this girl.”

  “It’s no one of importance,” said Nik, giving Petyr a final warning look.

  No one of importance? How… How could he even say that? She was important to someone. And maybe she wasn’t important to me before, but she is now.

  Indignantly, Petyr said, “She was my friend. Jayne. Tall. Long-haired. Kind of plain, I guess. But she was a very nice person. And some animal just killed her for no reason!”

  Anders listened to Petyr as if the depths of his heart had been touched by Jayne’s own ghostly hand. He raised a few fingers to his lips contemplatively, sliding back into a memory. “Jayne,” he said, tasting her word. His already glowing red eyes lit up with joy. “That was her name…”

  The half-amused, half-contemplative toned made Petyr not want to answer. Nik sighed quietly—despairingly.

  But when Anders next spoke, even Nik’s eyes went wide. “I think I killed her." The words tumbled out weightlessly, the tone only half-certain, as if he were still replaying events in his mind to come to a final decision.

  Total silence descended over the trio. Somewhere down in the tavern, a woman shrieked, a man laughed, and several others hooted and cheered. There was singing.

  “You what?” said Nik, unable hold back his sudden burst of indignant rage. “She was just a fucking kid.”

  Anders tapped his lip and giggled perversely. “Yes, I remember now… I had gone out to watch the stars and wandered into the field. Something about her spoke to me. The way her empty eyes just called out for something, someone, anyone… The way she just stood there as I approached. Neither one of us should’ve been there in at that hour. Just a few steps in either direction and we would’ve missed each other in those long golden stalks and that sublime moonlight.”

  A beatific smile possessed Anders as he continued: “But we didn’t. It was almost romantic. Like a fated meeting. I took her by the hand and delivered her to another world…”

  Something like a groan of pleasure built up in Anders and escaped his lips as he licked them. “A lovely little treat for us both.”

  Petyr stared at the man before him unsure of what to say or do. Until this point, he’d been certain the guilty one was Reed. Or, at the very least, a stupid bandit that could be punished, maybe whipped, maybe hanged. But if this Anders really had done it… who was going to punish him?

  Me? He considered the consequences of that. Not only was he certain to fail, but it was more than likely all those two bodyguards of his would skin him alive right after. Whatever business his father had with Anders that kept the family going until this point would be ruined, too.

  A state of panic and terror overtook him as the crisis of the moment set in. Petyr became breathless at the horror of it all.

  I can’t…

  “Why?” Nik asked again, his temper still there, but with a cool edge now. “I simply don’t understand.”

  Anders smacked his cheek playfully, as might be done with one of the whores. “Of course you don’t, Nik. You’re a lowbrow snake. A venal and bestial vermin whose only hunger is for coin. Beauty and spirituality elude you. So avoid that tone when you speak with your betters. Don’t mistake my cheery attitude for indifference towards your perfidious lack of respect. I could take that redheaded pet you keep so close and beat her head in for nothing but my temporary amusement if I wished to. The only rules I live by, Nik—the same rules you live by—are mine.”

  The darkness of the threat lingered with electrifying power, and Anders’ red eyes held Nik with utter contempt, a full on provocation. It was a reckless, almost disgusting display of power, one that should’ve been met with swift karmic justice.

  With such words spoken, Petyr expected Nik to push back. Who else if not him? Nik had always been the one to outsmart others, the one who managed to keep the worst scum in line. He was a bastard himself, but a civilized one, who knew exactly when to display enough savagery to make others fear him, but who would’ve preferred not to have to do it at all.

  Petyr watched the handsome dark face of his older friend, hoping it would break into a grin before he headbutted Anders and beat him to a bloody pulp, smashing that arrogant face until it became a filthy stew to be mopped up.

  That was what Petyr wanted to see. The mere thought of it sent an electrifying tingle down his spine that ignited every part of him, like the gods’ own purest form of arousal. He needs to die! I want to see it!

  Instead, Nik lowered his head slavishly. “Yes, most certainly, Boss. I never intended to disrespect you in any way. I apologize if I did.”

  Anders grabbed his face as if they were the closest of comrades and laughed heartily. “Come now, Nik, don’t be so serious. We all misspeak at times. I’m only joking. Let’s have a drink.”

  They moved away from the threshold. The door slammed closed in Petyr’s haunted and pained face.

  From down below in the tavern, the ear-rending cacophony of a poorly sung birthday tune drifted up the stairs.

  He shuddered. What now?