Page 50 of Brimstone

“Yes.”

“God—” He let out a frustrated huff. “Can’t you evenpretendto lie, for pity’s sake?”

“That’s not how being Oath Bound works, Tal. You must have forgotten.”

For a split second, the echo of sorrow coming from Taladaius faltered, a spike of something that felt a lot like hurt assuming its place. It was gone just as quickly as it had come.

“We only came to get a drink,” Lorreth continued. “But this one wouldn’t let up about a six-hundred-year-old debt.”

“What?” Tal looked like he was at his wit’s end.

“I know. Ridiculous,” said Lorreth, completely missing the fact that Taladaius was frustrated withhim.

“All right. Errigan, bring me the ledger. And once you’ve done that, bring them the wine they wanted. Sinners have mercy.”

“But, Lord—”

“Do it, Errigan.”

The high blood grew even paler. With his eyes glued to the floor, he disappeared through a doorway into the back of the tavern. Taladaius turned to the two high bloods who had attempted to intervene on Errigan’s behalf, sighing as the one with the scar held up the dismembered hand that he had managed to dislodge from his mouth.

“This demands reparation, Lord. Like for like. A hand for a hand!” He spat flecks of his own black blood when he spoke.

“Come now, Anterrin. A hand for a hand is hardly like for like.Yourswill grow back,” Taladaius argued.

“In a month or more! How am I supposed to do anything like this?” He waved his dismembered hand in the air.

Against all good judgment that Iknewhe possessed, Lorreth laughed. “When it grows back all tiny like, at least it’ll be in better proportion when you wrap it around your cock.”

“Enough!”Taladaius hadn’t shouted before. Not even when Ereth attacked me on the dais and Fisher had cut him down. His hands were clenched into fists when Errigan returned with a large, dusty ledger, slamming it down onto the bar. “How much coin will you lose while the hand regrows?” Taladaius asked.

The high blood, Anterrin, considered. “A hundred cröna a day.”

The Lord let out an exasperated sound. “You’re a gatekeeper, Anterrin. At best, you make ten cröna a day. I’ll give you that, though I should halve it for the lie. Come back for the money tomorrow. Errigan will have it ready for you. Khol, get your brother out of here now before he says something stupid and winds up losing his other hand as well.”

The two high bloods left, casting venomous glances back over their shoulders as they exited the tavern. As soon as they were gone, Taladaius turned and cracked open the dusty ledger. “Show me the record of this debt,” he ordered.

Errigan leafed through the pages from the other side of the bar, craning his neck around until he found it. “There, Lord.” He tapped the middle of the page with that creepily long fingernail.

Taladaius looked down at the ledger entry, then looked back up at the high blood. “Eightthousandcröna, Errigan? For a bottle of wine and a repair to a table?”

“Compounding interest, Lord! The Faeling left the debt unpaid for centuries!”

Wearily, Taladaius picked up the quill Errigan had brought along with the ledger and drew an impressively straight line through the entry.

“Lord!” Errigan looked set to faint. “I owned this place for eight hundred years and I neveronceforgave a debt!”

My sire snapped the ledger closed and shoved it across the bar toward the other vampire. “And you sold the place to me fifty years ago, along with all its debt, and now Ihaveforgiven one of them. That’s the end of it. Get him the wine,” he commanded. “On the house. And you?” he said, taking me by the arm. “You’re coming with me. I need to talk withyou.”

12

TAL

SAERIS

“WHO WAS YOURfriend?”

Taladaius slammed the door to his office closed behind us, growling with frustration. “None of your business.”