Page 10 of Foul Days

“Wait, let me guess,” said the Zmey. “You had another fight, didn’t you? She’s staying with her sister. The house on Iglika Street with the roses on the balcony? Maybe I’ll pay her a visit later. Unless you’d like to invite me in?”

Stamen looked at Kosara. His fingernails dragged along the chair’s armrest as he tried to pull himself up.

“No, wait, Stamen…” Kosara began, but she didn’t know how to finish the sentence. She couldn’t threaten him—she had some semblance of morals.

How had she not even considered that this might happen? She’d assumed the other people in the pub would be as desperate to keep the Zmey out as she was. Except, the rest of them didn’t know what he was capable of. Kosara was the only one in all of Chernograd who knew him.

The only one he’d left alive, anyway.

“You stay right where you are,” Bayan growled at Stamen. “I don’t want him in my pub.”

Stamen staggered in his place, his eyes fixed on the rifle in Bayan’s hand. Kosara flashed Bayan a grateful smile. He didn’t return it.

Roksana leaned closer, the smell of her pipe smoke surrounding Kosara like a sticky, dizzying cloud. “Maybe you should open that door before the Zmey hurts someone.”

Kosara turned to her, startled. “If I open that door, he’ll hurt me.”

“No, he won’t. You know him. He cares about you.”

“The Zmey cares about nobody but himself, Roksana.”

Roksana shrugged and leaned back in her chair, her fingers casually resting on the handle of her pistol.

“You don’t understand,” Kosara said. “He’s angry with me. You’ve never been around when he’s been angry with me.”

“Why, what would he do?”

Kosara’s fingers automatically brushed her neck. Her bruises had long healed, but she still felt the Zmey’s ghostly touch there. “He’ll take me back to his palace.”

“Surely he wouldn’t do it against your w—”

“He would.”

Finally, Roksana fell silent.

“And what about you, Maria?” This time, the Zmey addressed a woman knitting in the corner. The clicking of her needles immediately stopped. “Your little girl is at her dad’s tonight, isn’t she? I’d bet your ex was too cheap to pay for proper wards. After all, that’s why you left him…”

Maria shot up from her seat. “Don’t you dare—”

“What was that? You’re going to invite me in?”

The barkeep held onto Maria’s forearm to stop her from going to the door. Good old Bayan, Kosara knew she could rely on him—

He turned to Kosara, gripping his rifle. “You have sixty seconds to get out.”

Goddamnit.

“To get out?” She tried for a disarming smile, but her face was too tense. She must have looked like she bared her teeth at him. “Come on now, Bayan, you can’t throw me out to the dogs like that.”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven—”

“Bayan, please—”

“Bayan,” came a voice from a nearby table. “You can’t do this.” Kosara recognised a young woman who’d recently applied to be her apprentice. Kosara had turned her down—she was a mediocre witch. What could she possibly teach a student?

To Kosara’s surprise, several other voices from the nearby tables rose in agreement.

“The girl’s right,” said Sava the baker, standing up from his seat and crossing his large arms in front of his chest. “You can’t.”

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