Orfeus gently slid her fingers under his and pried them away. After a moment he let her, withdrawing his hand from her throat. She drew in a huge breath, then coughed and drew in another. He took a step back.

Orfeus, sufficiently recovered, blinded him with a grin. “You’re here for conversation,” she said.

He let out a groan.

Orfeus laughed. Adrenaline still sang through her, and her starveling brain greedily drank in oxygen. She gestured expansively, and started to pace. “Everyone kept saying that the Order of the Vengeful Wild never share details of who contracts them. Alright. Fine. So I went to the source.” She pointed squarely at his chest and got some enjoyment from how his shoulders tensed, like he expected an attack. Faol didn’t seem to be the sharpest. This was what she’d been living in fear of? “Which is to say, you. Who hired you?”

Faol answered calmly, as though he hadn’t been trying to kill her a minute before. “I don’t know,” he said simply. She narrowed her eyes, and he rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “I am the Wolf and go where I’m sent. You would have to ask the Leader of the Wild. My leader. Luga.”

Disappointing, but at least it was something. She memorised the name like she’d carved it into her brain with a glowing poker. Luga. So that was who she had to get answers from. Orfeus had given her name when she took out this contract, so whoever was after her must’ve given a name too, or at least something.

Faol whipped his head around, staring. A moment later Orfeus heard it too: a soft purr, the same sound his hoverbike had made, coming from a little to the side of town but getting louder fast.

“Someone else is here?” Orfeus said, questioningly.

Faol shook his head. “We’re not the only ones with bikes,” he said, but he frowned in the direction of the noise.

“If you don’t know the client, can you at least tell me if they took the contract out again?” Orfeus said, and that was enough to draw his attention away from the noise.

“No one tried to renew the contract after my initial failure,” he said, very quietly. His gaze dropped.

“Oh, I weep for you, I really do,” she snapped. “Terribly sorry that you didn’t succeed in killing me. I know it wasn’t a kill contract,” she said, as he opened his mouth to speak. “If you’re not out to kill someone, don’t hit them on the head—”

Something shot past Orfeus, bolts of brilliant blue light. She twitched back, but Faol took a full step away, shoulders tensing. Whatever that was, it had been dangerous.