Page 358 of The First Taste
I blink several times, setting my drink down. “Valencia, Spain?”
“Yes.” Hades releases a silent sigh and stalks over to the cluster of white wicker couches where I am perched. He drops into a chair and his lips purse. He looks out at the ocean, but I can feel him purposefully not looking at me.
It has been a trying couple of days, to say the least. Thank god we were given a place to shower and change once we stepped onto this yacht.
“Fuck off!” he shouts, his voice a warning. I turn my head and see the waitress scurry back out of sight.
Idly, I wonder if he’s about to tell me the same thing he said on the first day I met him. Something about how he will kill the family of any of the yacht’s crew if he so much as thinks I’m trying to win the crew member over to my side. I tense, leaning forward on the couch, a tiny grimace on my face.
Hades smooths a hand down his crisp black suit, his lips twitching. “I find myself worrying far too often about ye.”
It catches me by surprise and causes my heart to thump against my ribs. I glance at him, trying desperately to read his face for some clue as to what he’s talking about.
“You do?” I ask.
He shoots me that same cool look again. “We need to settle some things between us. I have too much on my mind to be worried about ye trying to run away.”
I swallow, lifting my chin. My heart gives a sympathetic squeeze in my chest.
He hadn’t meant what I thought, then.
“Oh,” I say.
He flicks his fingertips, sitting back in his chair. “Ye can’t run off. I will find ye. I will hurt ye. And if ye try to alert anyone to yer situation — anyone — I will kill them.” His voice is flat and emotionless, almost bored. “But if ye behave, if ye do as I request… then I will pull some strings for ye. I can make it safe for ye to go back to New Orleans.” A tiny frown crosses his face. “Eventually.”
My heart skips a beat. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”
He squints out across the water for several seconds. “If this deal goes well, I can bribe or intimidate the New Orleans police into not hassling ye. If ye decide ye want me to do that, of course.”
I look down, frowning at my knees under my long black dress. “That sounds great, but?— “
Hades cuts me off with a gesture. “I can do it. It’s definitely in my power. And I can pay ye handsomely. But I need ye to promise me that ye won’t tell anyone what we are doing or try to send out a distress signal of any kind.”
I lick my lips, hesitating, uncertain. “Okay…”
“Okay, what?”
I pull in a breath and push it out. “Okay. I agree to your terms. Though you probably could have just offered to pay me a lot rather than going through the motions of kidnapping me first.”
“I couldn’t be sure that ye were not in Constantine’s pocket.” He settles back with an aggravated sigh. “I’m still not absolutely sure.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s wishful thinking on your part, it sounds like.”
He stares me down for a few seconds until I flush. He reaches in the pocket of his suit jacket, producing a list handwritten in tight, masculine capital letters. I pick up the piece of paper and sit back, my brow furrowing as I read it.
It’s a list of documents that he will need forged. My eyes widen as I take in the breadth of exactly what he is asking for.
“This is…” I glance up nervously. “You really want to smuggle eight shipping containers into…” I reference the sheet again. “Four different ports in four different African countries? Plus, you want new identification papers for everyone involved at all four ports?— “
He crosses his legs, his expression carefully blank. “Are ye saying ye can’t do it?”
“I didn’t say that,” I hedge. “But you’re asking for a lot. I mean… what could you possibly want with eight shipping containers? Those things are massive!”
He tilts his head to the side. “The client wants a lot of guns. So I am giving them a lot of fucking guns. If ye’ve got a problem with that, I would say ye can go fuck yerself.” He looks directly at me, his green eyes pinning me in place. “Can ye do it?”
I swallow, nodding softly. “Yes. I’ll need… things. Reference materials. Several printers. Probably some special inks and waxes for seals. Contact paper.”
He stops me by putting up a hand. “Make me a list. I’ll get it for ye.”
