Lazarus was quiet for a long moment. Outside, someone was dying two tents over. The wet rattle of lungs filling with fluid, the desperate gasps for air that wouldn't come. He listened to it without moving.
"A blood contract," he said finally. "Your silence and your cooperation in exchange for my protection. Observation. Intelligence. When your bloodline produces someone who sees too clearly, you ensure they are guided away from what they don't need to find."
Jeremiah's eyes sharpened. "You want informants."
"I want a relationship rather than a liability." He withdrew the slender blade from beneath his coat. The metal caught the lantern light and held it strangely, the etched Latin along its surface shimmering. "Your service for your bloodline's survival. And when the time comes, testimo
