"How do you know him?" Corax snarled again, the chair creaking under their combined weight as he leaned farther forward.

Cassia swallowed, forcing herself not to shy away from his closeness. Or his intensity. The image of a knife blade through her own hand flashed in her mind. "How do you?" she managed to croak.

Corax stilled and while Cassia couldn't see his eyes, she could certainly feel the heat of his gaze beneath that damned hood. A sharp laugh from him made her jump, and he straightened up.

He stood in front of her for a second longer, mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. Then he said, "You seem to misunderstand how this works, kitten. You came here looking for Viloria. Which means you need to start answering questions, not asking them."

"I'll answer Viloria's questions," she replied with a haughty curl of her lip. "I don't have to answer yours."

Again that sharp laugh. "My questions will be the same as his."

With that, he moved toward a small fireplace set in the back of the room, his hand going up to his throat to undo the clasp there. Cassia took the opportunity to glance at her surroundings.

A small window faced west—not big enough to get through—which left the door behind her as the only exit. Her chair was in front of a large desk which held an oil lamp and a few scattered papers, and in the southeast corner of the room a table surrounded by three mismatched chairs stood. A poker by the fire snagged her attention, but there were no other weapons besides Corax's own that she could see.

The swish of cloth returned her gaze to Corax as he finally removed the hood and cloak. Cassia gasped sharply, then covered her mouth when his shoulders tightened at the sound.

Her mind scrambled, now trying to make sense of the confrontation downstairs. Part of it simply didn't believe what she was seeing. 

His left arm was missing. There was nothing but a stump three inches below his shoulder. 

Cassia had to force her eyes away from what remained of the limb, dragging them up to his face as he turned toward her. A ragged scar ran down the left side of his face, from just above his eye to his jawline.

Before she could so much as open her mouth, Corax was across the room and once more towering over her. A knife appeared in his hand and she grew dead still as the blade kissed her throat. It was startling how quickly he moved. 

Frightening.

Rage suddenly pierced her heart. She was thoroughly sick of being afraid. So she sneered and glanced pointedly at what was left of his arm. "I suppose I see what Servius was talking about."

She regretted the words as soon as she said them.

Corax snarled, then smiled, the expression little more than a baring of teeth. "I suppose I could always take you back to him if you'd prefer a whole rat to half a man." 

He had a point, much to her chagrin. Cassia huffed a breath and muttered, "No. I would not prefer that."

His eyes bore into hers, an intense blue-green color—like copper that has been left too long to the elements. He didn't say anything for a long time. The blade forced Cassia to keep her head tilted back and made her breath shallow.

She swallowed and could feel the sharp edge press a little deeper into her skin.

"If you're smart," Corax growled, "you'll answer my question. You caused a lot of trouble for me this afternoon, kitten. Those men do a lot of good business around here. The least you can do is explain why a pretty little thing like you would come to such a nasty place as this."

"I don't owe you anything," she hissed, afraid to speak any louder lest she accidentally slit her own throat. "The general bade me seek Viloria. If you would like an explanation, you should take me to him."

He laughed, the sound soft as a lover's touch. "You're gorgeous, I'll give him that much." His smile turned wicked. "It would seem he didn't keep you around for your sparkling wit, though."

Cassia could only gape for a moment. Then she sputtered, a thousand responses trying to roll off her tongue at the same time.

"Don't strain yourself, kitten," Corax drawled with a lazy grin. Then he sobered again. "You're going to tell me how you know the general, and you're going to do it quickly."

"And if I don't?" Cassia gritted out, hatred beginning to run hot in her veins.

"I will consider you a waste of my time and take you back downstairs," he said simply. "I'm sure there's someone who would find you worth the trouble."

The phantom sensation of greedy, mauling hands on her body made her blood run cold and she shivered. Leveling a sullen glare on Corax, who just smiled that infuriating smile, she said, "The general is a friend."

"Not good enough." Corax tilted his head, still smirking. "I'm sure the general has plenty of friends."

Cassia gritted her teeth, stubbornness making it impossible to simply fold under Corax's pressing. Why hadn't Julianus warned her about Viloria's guard dog?

He grazed the blade along the line of the artery in her throat and something in his eyes made her think he wouldn't particularly mind having to clean up the blood. If he even bothered.

"He was my lover," she finally spat. "Now he is—" She cut herself off.

My sworn warrior. 

She couldn't bloody well say that. Normal women didn't have sworn warriors, and she had no idea how much of her situation Julianus had explained to Viloria, if he had said anything. She certainly wasn't about to spill something that important to this man.

"He was my lover," she repeated, her heart lurching at the words. "When he learned of my need to leave Levitum, he told me to find Viloria."

Corax nodded, still smirking and she was overcome by the urge to smack the expression off his insufferable face. Something must have shown in her expression because he snickered, turning his face like he was daring her. A ray of light fell on the split lip she had given him and revealed a purpling bruise, cooling her rage just a little.

So Cassia simply pressed her mouth into a thin line, curling her fingers into useless fists. That was all she was willing to tell him—anything else would only be said to Viloria. Corax let his gaze wander over her face for a long moment, his smirk slipping toward a frown again.

Then he lifted the knife, pressing it against the vulnerable flesh beneath her jaw, forcing her head back more and a little to the right. She blinked against the sun in her eyes, panic flaring in her veins as it turned Corax into little more than a looming shadow.

After a moment, he made a small sound of interest in the back of his throat.

The knife disappeared and Cassia's hand shot up to her neck, half expecting a warm fountain of blood to cascade over her fingers. But she didn't find so much as a nick anywhere the knife had pressed.

She looked up when Corax sighed expansively, the knife disappearing somewhere on his person. He strolled around the desk to a padded chair and flopped into it before he propped his boots on the edge and sat staring at her.

Cassia couldn't stop herself from staring right back, refusing to be cowed.

He wasn't exactly good-looking. His features were much too severe for that. His eyes blazed with startling intensity, and the scar didn't distract from his features so much as it added to them. He had the type of face that caught the eye and made it confuse interesting for handsome.

It made not staring at his arm only nominally easier. 

He continued to watch her, the expression on his face giving absolutely nothing away. He was like a blank slate—completely impossible to read, which only made her sense of discomfort grow. 

"Consider, just for a moment, that Viloria had been told to expect a pretty little thing such as yourself," Corax said suddenly, his frown stretching the scar on his cheek, "and that you are in fact that pretty little thing—which is still up for debate. What exactly did the general tell you to expect from Viloria?"

Cassia opened her mouth, then hesitated. She really didn't know how generous she could expect Viloria to be. She didn't believe that Julianus would have sent her to anyone he thought would hurt her, but that didn't necessarily mean they would deign to give her much help beyond finding her a ship.

Better to aim high, she reasoned. It wasn't likely that Corax would be able to refute her claims and it might get her a little more than she would otherwise receive. 

"The general told me Viloria would help me find safe passage from the city," she said. "And that he would offer me shelter and protection until such passage could be found."

Corax lifted an amused eyebrow. "Did he now?"

"That's right," Cassia said serenely. Then she sighed. "The general said Viloria was a man that could be trusted."

"That's a bit of a broad statement," Corax replied. "A lot of grey area there."

"Either a man can be trusted, or he can't." She sneered at him, letting him know exactly which end of the spectrum she believed him to be on. "Not very grey at all."

That earned her another amused look. Corax opened his mouth, but before he could say anything a vicious pounding on the door made Cassia jump to her feet. Whirling around, she watched as the door shuddered under another barrage.

Instead of looking alarmed, Corax cast a beleaguered look toward the smoke-stained ceiling before he got to his feet. 

"Open the door, Viloria," someone shouted. "Now!"

Corax grimaced with distaste, obviously recognizing the voice. He pointed to Cassia and said in a low voice, "Stand behind the table. Do what you can to not draw attention to yourself."

For a moment Cassia hesitated, loath to do anything Corax suggested. But the intruder assaulted the door with another round of brutal knocks, and she decided it was worth the sting to her pride if she could go unnoticed. Especially if the individual on the other side of that door was cut from the same cloth as the men who had assaulted her, which she found a likely possibility.

When she had slipped behind the table, hands white-knuckled on the back of one of the chairs, Corax moved toward the door. He opened it, then took three fluid steps backwards.

Cassia shrank against the wall as a bear of a man stormed into the room, then stopped dead. His already beet-red face twisted in rage under his mangy beard at the sight of Corax.

"I need to talk to Viloria, not his errand boy," the bear growled.

Corax smiled, the expression brilliant and cold. "Hello, Titus. Always a pleasure."

"Viloria," Titus hissed. "Where is Viloria?"

"Tending his garden." Corax's voice had gone flat. "If you want to talk to him, you know the rules, Titus. And those rules don't include bursting in unannounced." He smiled again, slippery as a snake and twice as deadly. "So I'm afraid you'll have to settle for his errand boy."

Cassia frowned, her eyes darting back and forth between Corax and the other man. There was something odd about the exchange, but she couldn't decide exactly what.

Titus went from red to purple, a wormy vein bulging on his forehead. He blustered and swore for a few long moments, but didn't take so much as a step in Corax's direction. Cassia couldn't exactly blame him. Missing arm or no, there was no doubt in her mind that Corax would make for a deadly adversary. 

Finally, Corax seemed to grow bored. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, a sigh coming from his nose. "What do you want, Titus," he said, sounding weary. "Perhaps I'll pass it along."

"You bloody well better," Titus growled, then smiled, the expression oily. "It is concerning you, after all."

Corax just raised an eyebrow.

Cassia nearly shivered at the expression. The only person she'd ever seen with a mask that flawless was Marcus. 

"You injured Servius," Titus said, slick as oil. "I demand compensation."

A disbelieving laugh burst from Corax. "Viloria won't pay for your man's stupidity. Perhaps Servius will learn to keep his mouth shut after a couple weeks short on coin."

Another tense silence followed this. Cassia fancied she could almost see the steam rising from Titus' ears.

Then Titus held his hands up, palms toward the ceiling as he shrugged. "I suppose I could always demand blood for blood. Not even Viloria can ignore the law."

Cassia's frown deepened. There was no law that demanded one man must pay for the blood shed by another. 

"How long do you think Viloria will keep you around when you can't use your hand?" Titus broke into ugly laughter. "The one you still have, anyway."

A muscle in Corax's jaw fluttered, his hand turning into a fist. He shot a poisonous glare at Titus, then let his gaze slide to her. She froze like a startled deer when Titus turned to her as well. 

Surprise was quickly followed by lust and he turned back to Corax. "Servius didn't mention there was a whore involved."

She was getting very tired of that word.

A laugh burst from Titus, the percussive sound making her jump slightly. She leveled an accusing gaze on Corax. What had happened to not drawing attention to her?

He shrugged like he could read her thoughts, then scowled. "Because she has nothing to do with this," he muttered, his rough voice turning the words to a growl. He pursed his lips, obviously weighing his options.

"She yours?" Titus asked, licking his lips as he stared at her. His gaze was like spiders crawling over her skin.

Corax grimaced, looking pained when he said, "Something like that."

Cassia kept her chin high, even though every fiber in her body was screaming to leave the room, duck beneath the table, hide behind Corax—anything to get away from that creeping gaze. She couldn't stop herself from sending a look toward Corax, begging him to intervene.

Before he could though, Titus turned a speculative eye on Cassia, assessing her like she was a lamb on the auction block. Slowly, he said, "I might be persuaded to change the price."

Cassia blanched. She couldn't help it. 

Men had always looked at her and, for the most part, she simply dismissed it as human nature. After all, she was not immune from the same behavior. She had never stopped herself from glancing twice at a handsome man.

But what she had experienced here was a beast of an altogether different nature. Here, there was no outside force to stop anyone who might not be satisfied with just a look.

"Give me the whore and we'll call it square," Titus continued.

Cassia's heart leapt into her throat when Corax didn't immediately decline the offer. Suddenly, not answering his questions seemed like the most foolish thing she had ever done.

Slowly, Corax crossed the room to stand on the opposite side of the table. He cocked his head, verdigris eyes boring into hers, his expression thoughtful. Like he was actually considering Titus' offer. Cassia's mouth went bone-dry and her eyes darted to the door.

She was fast. Maybe if she moved quickly enough, she could slip past them to the door. Titus couldn't be that agile—he was simply too large. Corax was the one she had to worry about catching her.

Her muscles tensed, preparing to move. She didn't dare look at the door again. She couldn't give him any indication.

There was a twitch of movement from Corax and her concentration shattered. She flinched at a sharp thud, then looked down in surprise. An elegant stiletto blade vibrated slightly, its tip biting deeply into the already scarred wood of the table.

He winked at her, then whirled to Titus. "I'll take it up with Viloria." He waved carelessly over his shoulder. "As for her, I suppose if you'd like to try your luck."

Cassia and Titus watched in astonishment as he slipped from the room, graceful as a cat. Her heart was still racing, her hands shaking with the unused energy from her escape plans. She had to swallow twice before she could get her tongue to unstick from the roof of her mouth, and she looked down at the knife again.

The steel shone brilliantly in the western light. 

A small shuffling sound had her snatching the hilt of the blade. She wrenched it from the wood and shrank against the wall, knife held with the blade extending past her thumb, like Vestarin had showed her. Comfort sluiced through her veins—a sense of calm she hadn't had since Julianus had sworn that he was hers.

"Come now," Titus said, his voice pitched to what Cassia thought was supposed to be seduction. "No need to be like that."

She just tightened her grip on the stiletto. Behind her eyes, she saw an image of Titus lying before her, blood pooling onto the faded floorboards.

She blinked, pulling herself from the wishful thought to find the man staring at her hungrily. Several times his eyes darted to the knife, like he was debating if it would be worth the risk. Cassia hardened her expression and raised the knife just a little. Not enough that he would have a chance to disarm her, but enough to convince him that she would make him pay dearly for anything he tried.

Their little standoff was broken when the door flew open, banging into the wall behind it. Cassia started at the sound, hand tightening on the hilt of the knife.

A man with long, grey hair tied back in a neat tail at the nape of his neck stalked into the room. His eyes swept over the scene before him and he stopped for just a second when he saw her. Surprise flickered in his pale brown eyes before he turned and moved around the desk. He lowered himself slowly into the seat, then laced his fingers together, arthritic knuckles making his hands unwieldy.

Cassia blinked in surprise, eyes sweeping over the man she had been seeking. He wasn't exactly what she had been expecting for a friend of Julianus'.

Corax closed the door, then glided across the room to take up a position leaning his hip against the edge of the desk. He stayed firmly between Viloria and Titus, only sparing Cassia a brief, amused glance before turning his full attention on Titus.

None of them seemed to mind that she was standing there listening. It was a novel, if disturbing, experience to matter so little.

For long moments, Viloria watched Titus, gaze nearly as unreadable as Corax's. Then he said, voice firm, "You have no claim here, Titus. Servius made his own decision. It was a wrong one."

"Your guard dog bites too often, Viloria," Titus said with a scowl cast at Corax. "Servius did not attack him. His actions were not in self-defense. They were unprovoked."

Corax snorted at that, but didn't interrupt. His careful eyes stayed on Titus, allowing Cassia to study him without being studied in return. He was well muscled, his shoulders and back straight. On his hand was an assortment of small scars. An aura of calm control surrounded him.

A sense of horror niggled at the back of her tired mind, but she couldn't seem to grasp the thought that might have caused it.

Viloria and Titus continued to volley pointless barbs back and forth. Cassia went so far as to lean back against the wall, trying to take at least some of her weight off her aching feet.

"Fifty silver," Titus barked, making Cassia turn her head to look at him. "That's what I'll take."

"He's barely worth ten," Corax said with a sharp laugh.

Cassia narrowed her eyes. Viloria made a slashing motion with his hand and hissed at Corax to hold his tongue. Corax rolled his eyes at Cassia. Her brow wrinkled at his irreverence. 

"The guard dog makes a point," Viloria drawled. "Servius is barely worth ten."

Titus sent a look of glee toward Corax at the slur. Corax made a point to bare his teeth, obviously amused by this whole exchange.

"Regardless," Titus finally said, "this is a matter of what Servius is worth to me. That is what's owed."

Quiet filled the room, all eyes on Viloria as he seemed to contemplate this. He steepled his knobby fingers, narrowing his eyes at Titus. Then his gaze flickered for the briefest of seconds to Corax.

If Cassia hadn't been watching the man, she would have missed the small tilt of his head.

Viloria sighed deeply. "I will consider your...request, Titus. Return in three days."

Corax's shoulders drew tight, a scowl pulling at his scar.

Titus sputtered and growled, but turned back toward the door and Cassia relaxed a little, glad he was leaving. There was just something unpleasant about the man. She didn't even like being in the same building as him, much less the same room.

Then, Titus stopped.

Over his shoulder, he said, "It does occur, Viloria, that this isn't the first time your man has done something like this."

"It's why I keep him around," Viloria said carelessly, flipping through a few of the papers on the desk. He didn't look up. 

"I'm not the only one who could make a blood claim on Corax."

Viloria still didn't look up. "You are the only one stupid enough to suggest it, though."

Cassia, who had the privilege of being nothing more than a bystander, witnessed the exact moment the conversation deteriorated.

Corax winked at Titus, who snorted like a bull. He whirled, moving far faster than Cassia would have thought possible for a man his size. A knife flashed and Corax darted forward. He ducked a slashing blow, a clash of steel on steel filled the small room.

There was a wet tearing sound, followed by a thick gurgling. Corax calmly stepped backwards, sword in his hand. Titus' hands were wrapped around his throat, blood spurting between his fingers. 

Corax's face was blank as he lifted the sword and lunged forward, skewering Titus through the neck. He dropped like a puppet with cut strings, his blood rushing across the faded floorboards. 

Everything was very still. Until a shaky breath came slowly from Cassia, making the two men turn toward her. She continued to stare at the dead man, his blood like a pool of rubies on the dusty floor. 

She had imagined doing the exact same thing, but it was something entirely different to have it happen in front of her, barely three feet away. Slowly, her gaze moved away from the body.

Corax began to clean the blade of his sword, his movements horrifically efficient. Turning to Viloria, he said, "We'll need to get this cleaned up before they come looking."

Viloria nodded, looking exhausted as he came around the desk and nudged the body with the toe of his boot. His nose wrinkled in disgust as the smell of copper and excrement filled the air. "Must this always be your answer to every problem?" he said, a hint of complaint in his old voice.

A shrug his only response, Corax returned his sword to its sheath. "Get Felix and Julius up here. They know how to be discreet."

Again, Viloria only nodded.

She knew now what had seemed so strange about all of this. What had seemed off. That vague sense of horror rose up in full force.

"You're Viloria," she said, voice a hoarse whisper as she met that piercing blue-green gaze. "You're who Julianus sent me to."