Page 5 of Of Kings and Thieves

The figure spun around, revealing a grizzled face and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me.

“What the fuck do you want?” His voice was gravelly and laced with suspicion.

Feeling exposed under his gaze, I swallowed hard, but gave him an icy glare. “I’m on an errand for the magistrate. About the ring.”

He stood from his chair and walked towards me, his long coat swishing behind him. “Is that so?” He scowled at the door. “You! Half-breed! Get the fuck in here!”

The door opened and the unfortunate slave ducked in, his eyes downcast and submissive.

“Didn’t I say no one was allowed in today?”

The slave stuttered and stammered, clearly terrified of Harry’s wrath. The merchant grabbed his servant’s arm and shook him hard.

“The half-breed has nothing to do with it,” I said firmly, inwardly cringing, trying to draw Harry’s attention back to me.

Harry loomed over me, dragging the slave with him. The terrified half-goblin trembled. “He has something to do with it if I say he does, since he’s my property.”

To drive home his point, he boxed the slave’s ears. The young male whimpered but didn’t cry, even when blood leaked out of his damaged ear.

Fury coursed through me, but I kept my cool and sniffed derisively. “I’m only here to collect the ring, not argue about servants. The magistrate wants it immediately.”

“Payment first,” Harry said.

“Unless you don’t have it,” I continued as if I hadn’t heard him, “in which case I’ll inform the magistrate of the error and see how he wants to proceed.”

Harry’s face turned red as the threat hit home. Spittle hit my face as his angry retort sprayed out. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, girl. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

I wiped the spittle off my face and stood my ground. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with. A washed-up merchant who’s fallen on hard times and now relies on shady deals and slave labor to make ends meet.”

Harry’s face contorted in rage, and he lunged at me. But I was ready and sidestepped him easily. He stumbled forward and crashed into the desk, knocking over the candle. I sent Col silent thanks for teaching me that move.

The merchant climbed to his feet, his face contorted with fury. “I would expect one of the magistrate’s whores to have better manners,” he sneered. “Grab her.”

I had been expecting insults and an attempt at violence, but I hadn’t anticipated them coming from the slave. He lunged for me, and I didn’t get out of the way in time.

The half-goblin’s long fingers bit into my arms, and before I could knee him in the balls, he twisted me around to face Harry, whose anger had curved to a sinister smile.

“Good job, boy,” Harry said, picking up the candle before it burned anything. He pulled a velvet pouch from his pocket and removed a gold ring with a large ruby. “The magistrate is sending his personal guard to retrieve the ring. And since I know the guard personally, that makes me think you aren’t here to collect for the magistrate. Did you hear about the ring and decide you wanted it for yourself?”

My stomach sank. I twisted hard in the slave’s firm grip. His breath on my hair made my skin crawl, like he was sniffing me. “You’re making a mistake.”

Harry laughed. “I doubt it. I’ll be interested to find out what the magistrate wants to do with a whore who’s turned traitor.” He tilted his head, as if struck by a thought. “Or are you somebody else’s whore?”

My blood turned cold. Did he know about me and who I’d been traveling with?

“We might have found more than we bargained for, eh? Boy, let’s see how well our little thief responds to some... questioning.”

My heart pounded in my chest as they dragged me through the dimly lit warehouse, kicking and struggling to get free. Harry backhanded me, splitting my lip and sending pain along my jaw.

Fuck it, I thought, going suddenly limp. The game was up.

The half-goblin hadn’t been expecting this move and almost dropped me. Instead of fighting, I took a deep breath and began to sing.

I knew what was coming next, had seen it happen many times.

“What’s this?” the merchant asked. I sang harder, keeping both of them in mind and directing my magic toward them. The merchant went down first, his head hitting the wall.

Seeing his master fall, the slave’s grip on me tightened, and for a moment I doubted myself. What if my talent didn’t work on those with goblin blood? I had never tested it.