THIRTY-FOUR
The pant of Styx’s breath moved his chest fast. As he considered her, his breathing slowed and his arm drooped.
“Merchant was going to kill me,” he said. The knife fell from his fingers that were shaking much more than before. “Upstairs.”
Maybe he had been going to kill Styx. Merchant had said that she was just in time for an important meeting. What transpired didn’t seem that important. Merchant must have changed tack when she injected herself into the situation.
“You got a reprieve.”
“Because of you,” he said. “Why did you help me?”
She hadn’t really. Letting him think that may be the quickest way to earn his trust, so Tulsi didn’t correct him. “I want to know what happened.”
His head seemed to grow heavy on his shoulders. “You want Merchant’s shipment.”
“I want to kn
