Page 33 of Blood and Thorns
“Caden has asked for your assistance.” He dipped his head, immediately returning to his position by the ropes.
Reluctantly I helped Arabella off, only to lean down to whisper against her ear. “Behave.”
She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes glittering with that spark, ready to ignite. I find I wanted it to burn, just so I could put her back in her place.
“Be a good girl,” I whispered closer, her eyes dilating at my words. “If you try to run, I’lltake the payment in your father’s skin, and then I’ll take joy in putting you over my knee.”
She blinked, that earlier flush sweeping back across her cheekbones and down her throat. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, and I noted the sarcasm in the reply.
For some reason it sent a thrill through me. Which was strange, because I fucking hated brats. Leaving her by the booth, I crossed the carpet in powerful strides. The dancers parted, as if I was surrounded by an invisible force.
I took the private lift down a floor, the scent of puke and piss evident as soon as the doors slipped open. I came to the interrogation room, finding one man sprawled on the table,vomit smeared across his face and his eyes dulled in death. Another man sat on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Another OD,” Caden muttered, shaking his head. Tossing a packet over, I caught it.
“Please… please…” the man sobbed. “I don’t know… I don’t know.”
I ignored him for the moment, frowning down at the emblem that represented everything I’d worked for. The rose strangled by thorns was correct, but the colour of the product was off.
Opening the pack, I dipped the tip of my finger before rubbing it across my gums. There was no numbing, just a slight tingling. Immediately I spat, getting rid of any powder.
“That shit’s not ours,” Caden growled, an edge to his words.
No, the product definitely wasn’t ours, which meant someone was either using my name to shift their own shit, or someone had been tampering with the supply.
The man on the floor continued to sob, his eyes unfocused. It took me a moment, but I finally recognised him. The mayor’s youngest son, Jonathan Smithers. A nepo child that barely looked old enough to wipe his own arse, but he must be at least twenty-one to get past the doormen.
He hadn’t even realised I was there, lost in his bawling.
Caden sighed, his favourite sledgehammer scraping against the concrete when he dragged it over. The man flinched, looking up.
“I don’t know,” he simply repeated.
“Well, I need you to remember where you bought it from,” Caden said, his voice much calmer than his expression, which looked like he was seconds away from beating the kid so hard brain splattered across the walls.
“Is Chris okay?” Jonathan asked instead.
Caden stood over, forcing Jonathan to crane his neck back. “No, Jonathan. He’s not fucking okay. He’s clearly dead, you muppet.”
“Dead?” Jonathan squeaked. “But he was okay a minute ago.”
“That was before he snorted his weight in poor grade cocaine, wasn’t it? Now, who’s your dealer?” Caden demanded.
What Jonathan clearly wasn’t picking up on was that Caden took the product personally, as he should, considering he was an integral part behind the design. He had a weird hard-on for the science side and declared he’d been the one to perfect the product quality.
My chemist, T, disagreed, but I didn’t get involved in their bickering so long as they refrained from killing one another.
“Please, I don’t… I don’t remember.”
Patience wasn’t exactly one of my virtues, so taking a step forward I crouched closer to his height. His eyes widened when he realised I was there, his sob turning into a full-on wail.
My hand snaked out, holding his jaw. “Now, we’re going to start this again,” I said, letting my voice deepen into a growl. “Who bought the coke?”
Jonathan’s eyes flicked up to Caden, and I held back a laugh if he believed Caden would save him. My fingers tightened until he returned his attention to me, which got me a wince in return.
“I… I did,” he answered.
“Good. So who was your dealer?” My hand itched to close, to break his jaw. But the fallout wasn’t worth it. The London Mayor was in my pocket just as much as any otherpolitician, but I wasn’t stupid enough to take out his youngest without cause.
