Chapter 32 · The Nameless Bid

"Don't even breathe," a voice hissed in my ear.

A gloved hand clamped over my mouth. Old leather and ozone. A cold blade pressed hard against my carotid artery. One wrong move and I'm a corpse on a fancy rug.

"One twitch, and your nameless little ghost story ends here."

I didn't fight it. No point. The Ledger had scrubbed my identity from the world's memory. I was a ghost to the guards, but this freak? He could see me.

"Who?" I managed to mutter against his palm.

"Someone who remembers the things you paid to forget," he whispered. "You're a bold little rat, Silas Quinn. Or should I call you Nothing?"

*Slam.*

The auctioneer’s gavel hit like a gunshot. The sound ripped through the posh chatter of the city's elite. I twisted my head. Three rows down, Kaela stood rigid. Her knuckles were white on the hilt of her blade. She didn't look back. Why would she? To her, I was just some random guy she’d dragged along for the ride.

"The starting bid for the Soul-Contract of Elara Vance," the auctioneer bellowed, his voice oily, "is ten thousand gold crowns!"

Kaela flinched.