Shadowcry by Jenna Burtenshaw Page A

across the floor, dragging the curtain along, with Silas right behind him. Kate grabbed the weighing scales from the floor and threw them at Silas’s knees, cracking the metal hard into his kneecap. The collector did not stop. He did not even limp; he just strode on, calmly chasing Edgar down until the boy finally managed to squirm from the curtain and bolt straight out of the shop door.
    Silas stopped at the threshold, and Kate watched Edgar skid upon the bloodstained cobbles as he ran past Kalen’s dead body. Her heart sank, and fear gathered like a lump in her throat as she realized he was not coming back.
    The door at the back of the shop was blocked by a rack of fallen shelves, and a killer now stood between her and her only chance of escape. She was alone, unarmed, and there was no way out.
    Silas sheathed his sword and turned on her. “The weak always run,” he said. “There is no honor in killing a coward. Do not disappoint me by trying to do the same.”
    â€œYou didn’t give him any choice,” said Kate, trying to convince herself that it was true, that somehow Edgar had to leave her behind. “What do you want?”
    â€œYou are a rare girl, Miss Winters. A diamond in the festering filth that makes up the rest of this worthless town. I have questions for you and you will answer them. Answer them to my satisfaction and your life will be made easy. Defy me and you will find me much less friendly than I have been thus far.”
    â€œYou killed a man,” said Kate. “You burned my home, took my family, and you just tried to kill my friend.”
    â€œYet here you stand, untouched. Why do you think that is?” Silas walked toward her, and with every step the air felt colder. Fear trickled up Kate’s spine, but there was nowhere for her to go.
    â€œYou were the one who brought the bird back to life,” he said. “You are the only one I am interested in. You will help me find what I need.”
    â€œI didn’t do anything,” said Kate. “I don’t know who you think I am. But you’re wrong.”
    Silas’s hand snapped forward and grabbed Kate’s face, clutching her cheekbones as he stared into her eyes. His grip was river cold and would not let her wriggle away. The dead gray of his eyes moved like fog trapped behind circles of glass, and Kate found herself staring at them, unable to look away.
    â€œI am not wrong,” he said. “Your uncle has no more Skill in him than a splinter of rock. But you . . . I can see the power inside you. Young power from ancient blood, raw and untrained. Do you know how many people carry the Winters name here in Albion? Worthless people with no true link to the family by blood?”
    Kate shook her head.
    â€œHundreds,” said Silas. “One or two of them showed some small promise, but they were nothing like you. You are the one I have been looking for, and you will come with me, or I will start slicing off those delicate fingers of yours. One . . . by . . . one.”
    Kate felt the chill of metal against her hand and she tried to snatch it away. There was a sharp snap of a lock and Silas cuffed one end of a long fine chain to her wrist, wrapping the remaining length of it around his hand. “A precaution,” he said. “I do not intend to lose you again. Now, walk.”
    Silas dragged Kate to her feet and pushed her ahead of him to the shop door. She did not want to go out there, not after what had happened, and she deliberately tried not to look at Kalen’s body lying on the ground. Silas led her toward it and made her stand beside him as he toed the fallen man with his boot. He knelt on one knee, wrenched the dagger from Kalen’s body, and wiped it clean on the dead man’s robes. An engraved letter K glinted along the blade. He pocketed it at once. “Unfortunate,” he said. “But necessary.”
    Silas looked up to the roof of the shop, where