Page 12 of Blood & Claw

“I might have seen something,” he went on, flashing her a smile that revealed a mouth of rotting teeth. “If you give me a lusty kiss, you’ll find out.”

Swapping her lantern to her left hand, Ailsa reached down and whipped the blade from the back of her boot. An instant later, its tip pressed against his throat. Hard enough that if he moved, it would draw blood. “Kiss this.”

Ailsa had never threatened anyone like this before, nor was she an expert with a blade. Yet Kayla—who’d been instructed in combat upon the Isle of Arryn as part of her druidic training—had given her some lessons.

A knife to the throat meant business.

The man stared up at her, his throat working. “Bitch.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

Moments passed, and she pressed a little harder with the tip of her dagger. The beggar made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as blood welled.

Ailsa stared at that dark droplet, glistening in the lantern light. Her nostrils then flared.

The rich iron scent of it filled her nose.

A strange sensation fluttered under her ribcage.

Almost like … hunger.

Her heart jolted against her ribs. Surely not?

Tearing her gaze from the scarlet trickle that now dribbled down his throat, she focused on his taut face instead. “Out with it.”

“There were five of them,” he ground out. “Lean men wearing leathers with dark cloaks. They entered shortly after you left. And then … not long after, six of them came out … hauling the tattooist with them.”

“Didn’t she shout for help?”

“She was gagged. Hands bound.”

A chill slithered down her spine. “Who were they?”

He made a wheezing noise. “How do you expect me to know?”

“The Fort Guard?”

“No … looked like sellswords to me.”

“What direction did they go in?”

“Down the hill.”

Her gut started to churn. They’re leaving the fort.

The beggar’s haggard face twisted then, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. “I’ve told you everything I know. Now get that fucking knife away from my throat.”

Feeling sick, Ailsa stepped back before sheathing the blade in her boot once more.

Gods. Gods. Gods.

What did those men want with Kayla?

Was one of them a former customer unhappy with the work done? Unlikely. Kayla was the best. Had the overking discovered her illegal work? No. Those men hadn’t been from the Fort Guard.

Her pulse started to hammer in her ears.

Tonight, she’d planned to have it out with Kayla, to demand more freedom, for them to make plans to travel as they’d agreed. She’d promised herself she’d stand her ground this time, that she wouldn’t let her mentor make her feel foolish for wanting more out of life.