The barmaid staggered back, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her wide eyes darted between the twitching corpse and the blood dripping from my hand.
"What have you done?" she repeated, her voice strained, teetering between shock and anger.
I flicked the excess blood off my fingers and sighed. "I saved your life. You're welcome."
Her expression twisted. Fear. Disbelief. Something else I couldn't quite place.
She took another step back, pressing against the farthest corner of the room as if putting as much space as possible between us would somehow erase what had just happened.
I rolled my shoulders, already bored of her reaction. "So, are we going to pretend that wasn't about to end with your throat getting slit, or are you going to start making sense?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Then, finally, her voice steadied. "You shouldn't have interfered."
