Chapter 33 · Inquisitor's Invite

"Put the knife down, Doctor, or I let him die." Silas stood in the doorway with one hand on Julian's shoulder and a silver seal pressed against his throat.

Kael kept the blade against the pale ridge rising from Julian's chest. One wrong move, and the cursed bone would crack under the pressure. One wrong breath, and Silas's guards would cut Kael down before he reached the table.

Julian's fingers closed around Silas's wrist.

"Take your hand off me."

"You don't get to give orders here," Silas said.

"I just did."

The inquisitor smiled without showing teeth. He wore black gloves, a clean coat, and the kind of calm that made Kael want to throw something heavy at his face.

"Your doctor has been hiding you from the Church for three weeks," Silas said. "Do you know what happens to people who conceal a plague carrier?"

"Do you know what happens to people who interrupt surgery?" Kael asked.

Silas looked at him. "They lose their hands."

"Then stop interrupting."

Julian's head turned a fraction. His eyes caught Kael's across the table. Dark. Sharp.