“Not until you give back my Mistress—who you took with no legal justification,” Kalis added. He’d been living in the Buy-All-Sell-All long enough to know the laws. Though a female alone in the Dark Market was fair prey for most males, anyone who owned a permanent shop had to obey the laws of the main market, which stated that people weren’t allowed to assault or abduct each other—let alone chop them into pieces and sell them off for parts.
His words seemed to give Ripper pause for a moment—but only a moment.
“We do too have a legal right to her,” the head missing an eye snarled. “We gave the girly a handkerchief, so we did, and she took it of her own free will. She owes us!”
“She owes you a limb for the use of your handkerchief?” Kalis demanded. “I wonder what the Master of the Market would say about that?”
The Master of the Market was a Quinlow—an omniscient being who saw into the hearts of all and read their true intentions. It was also fucking terrifying—Kalis had been with Mistress Douchenbag when she came before it once for a dispute with a fellow stall-holder and his old Mistress had nearly wet her pants with fear. So invoking its name ought to get a response out of Ripper—at least he hoped.
But it seemed the two-headed Trollox was a stubborn one. Both heads glared at Kalis.
“This girly took our eye, so she did—scooped it right out of its socket!” he declared. “She owes us for that too!”
“I was just defending myself!” Jillian exclaimed. She looked pleadingly at Kalis. “Please—make him let me go!”
Kalis frowned at the three-headed Trollox.
“Am I right in thinking you have no stake in this?”
The three-headed Trollox shrugged, though he still didn’t let go of Jillian.
“Just came in to buy some toes and noses, so I did,” he growled.
“But now you’re a witness to the crime!” Ripper exclaimed. “You saw her take our eye, Thrasher! She owes us and she must pay!”
“You don’t get to decide such things,” Kalis said quickly. “Only the Master of the Market can settle such a dispute.”
He’d been hoping to scare Ripper into letting Jillian go, by mentioning the omniscient Quinlow. But if the Trollox refused to give her up, they really would have to go to the Market Court. It was either that or fight both Ripper and the other Trollox—which he could do, if he had to, in his other form—but he couldn’t be certain Jillian wouldn’t be hurt in the process. The three-headed Trollox holding her by the arm could easily break her bones or even pull her arm right out of its socket and rip it off her body—an all-too-possible scenario if Kalis charged him.
“The Master of the Market! The Master of the Market!” Ripper’s red-eyed head—which appeared to be an idiot—chanted over and over.
“Shut up, you fool!” the yellow-eyed head snapped. It focused its one good eye on Kalis. “Very well—let us go to the Master of the Market. We’re sure when he sees what the girly did to us, he’ll be on our side.” He gestured to his empty, bloody eye socket and scowled.
“I’ll come as witness,” the three-headed Trollox announced.
“Fine, but my Mistress is with me,” Kalis growled.
“So you can run away with her?” Ripper demanded with a snort. “Not likely, Kindred!”
Kalis glared at him, fighting down the Rage that wanted to claim him.
“I will not run,” he said, slowly and distinctly. “And to prove it, I offer myself as a guarantor for all her debts.”
“You do, do you?” Ripper looked at him narrowly. “All her debts?”
“All of them,” Kalis said firmly. “Whatever she owes, I will pay if need be.”
“Well…” Ripper’s yellow-eyed head seemed to think this over while the red-eyed head stared vacantly at the ground. “Very well,” the yellow-eyed head said at last. It looked at the other Trollox. “Thrasher, release her to him, and we’ll all go to the Market Court together.”
Kalis nodded gravely.
“Very well—we’ll go at once.”
“At once! At once!” the red-eyed head chortled, earning itself a glare from the yellow-eyed head.
“Come on, idiot,” it snarled. “We must take a moment to see the Master of the Market, who is certain to rule in our favor.” It glared at Jillian. “And afterwards, we can have our fun.”
18
The three-headed Trollox customer at last released Jillian from its crushing grip and she ran to Kalis’s arms. She wasn’t normally a girly-girl, looking to a man for protection, but in this case, she made an exception. Pressing herself against the big Kindred’s body, she trembled with delayed reaction.
“Do we really have to go to some kind of court?” she asked Kalis, looking up at him as they all stepped out the door of the Trollox butcher shop. Thank goodness the wind was fresher out here—Jillian took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get the stink of rotting meat out of her nose.