Chapter 29 · No, but I get to decide whether you get the anchor drug

"No, but I get to decide whether you get the anchor drug."

My grip tightened around the core.

The dealer swallowed.

"Give me the vial," he said. "I fix the seal. You keep the core."

"You want the vial more than you want to live."

"I want to live long enough to sell it."

"Honest answer."

"I can be honest when you have your hand around my throat."

"I don't have a hand around your throat."

"Not yet."

For half a second, neither of us moved.

His pulse beat under my thumb where I held his sleeve. His gaze dropped to the crack in my mask, then returned to my eyes.

He had seen what lived underneath.

He was still standing close.

That made him either brave or stupid.

Probably both.

"Fix the mask," I said.

"Give me the vial."

"Fix it first."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't trust people who sell drugs made from souls."

"That's the whole market."

"Then it's a bad market."

He gave a quick, nervous laugh. "You're really going to complain about the market after tearing a rift-beast apart in front of thirty witnesses?"

"It attacked me."

"You invited it."

"It came anyway.