Chapter 21 · The Price of Blood

"Don't you fucking read me!"

Kaela hissed the words, and her knife was already kissing my throat.

Her knee slammed into my chest, pinning me flat to the cold stone floor of the deed house. Between us, the Ledger lay open, spilling a violent gold light up her jaw and into my eyes.

"Get it off," she snapped. "Whatever you're doing with that thing, get it off me now!"

"I'm not doing anything," I rasped. The blade was a hair's breadth from my skin. "Kaela, I'm not—"

"Bullshit! You're not doing anything? Then why's my name in your goddamn book?"

She pressed harder. I felt the edge bite—a cold, thin line of warning. Her hand wasn't shaking from fear. It was pure, unadulterated rage.

The page pulsed. Fresh ink, still wet.

DEBTOR: KAELA VANCE.

Underneath it, a number I couldn't quite make out, written in that tight, arrogant god-script.

"Kaela, breathe," I said. "Let me look. Let me see what it wants."

"You don't get to look at me!" She jerked the knife. "You just sold a curse to Varric Hale like it was a loaf of bread. You don't even remember why you wanted the street.