by Death
‘You’ll die for this! And for what you did to my father!’ Pujardov threatened.
Brunner ignored the curses raging off the Kislevite’s tongue, instead seizing the man’s arm and shoving it between the gaping jaws of the wolf. Eyes wide with horror, Pujardov tried to squirm away as Brunner pushed the jaws of the dead beast close, sinking their sharp fangs into the Kislevite’s flesh.
A dead priestess was worth nothing, but a live monster, that would be worth a considerable reward, enough to warrant waiting at the castle until the next time Morrslieb was full. When the baron watched Pujardov change, whatever the Kislevite tried to tell him would be forgotten.
On the ground beside him, Pujardov wailed in agony, horrified at what the bounty hunter had done to him.
Brunner shook his head. ‘What are you crying about? You would have made a lousy orphan anyway.’
