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“Word travels fast,” Oberon acknowledges, shaking Nero’s hand with a firm grip.
“Indeed.” Nero turns to me, undressing me with his eyes as they slide from my heels to my waist to my breasts…and finally my eyes. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so thoroughly seduced with one look—and a lot of men have tried. “And Aisling Faye…the Stargazer. I remember you.”
“That was a different world,” I murmur, remembering when I ran into him at Dreamland that fateful night—the night I met Gunnar, the night Diesel died, the night when everything changed. “But it’s good to see you, Nero.”
“I was upset when I heard you ran off,” he says. “Shame I never got to see you dance. I imagine it’s quite the spectacle.”
“It’s even better when I’m not being forced into it,” I say, flashing him a smile with teeth.
“Feisty,” he chuckles. “And Gunnar Finch? I thought Vance Solace was keeping you on a tighter leash.”
“Vance doesn’t own me,” Gunnar mutters.
“We all have to grow up sometimes, don’t we?” Nero says, and his smile tells me he knows more than he’s letting on—that he has secrets beyond what he’s willing to share with us tonight. “Well…welcome, all three of you. A drink?”
He strolls over to a drink cart, where a bottle of brandy is waiting that’s more expensive than our apartment. He glances over his shoulder, waiting for our response.
“I’d love one,” I say.
“Sure,” Gunner says.
Oberon stays still and quiet.
He doesn’t like to drink quite as much since he was drugged.
Fair enough.
He pours us each a glass then hands them over, picking up his own and raising it toward us.
“Cheers,” Nero says, and, the clink of crystal echoes in the quiet room, a solitary note amidst the symphony of debauchery just beyond the walls.
“Let’s get down to business,” Gunnar says.
“Of course,” Nero agrees with a tilt of his head, moving to sit in a lounge of plush chairs and a sofa. “I’m glad we’re all here.”
We settle into chairs like players at a chessboard, stiff even as the booze sends liquid heat to my fingers and toes. It settles in my belly like a hot coal, my throat on fire.
“Tell us what you know,” Oberon prompts, cutting straight to the chase. “We must be here for a reason…and you want something from us, right?”
“Bold,” Nero says. “But I guess that’s what I should expect from the man who held a gun to my brother’s head.”
“Seems like you don’t mind the idea of your brother getting killed,” I murmur.
“Yeah…that’s because I don’t.” Nero’s lips twitch as he leans forward, the light from a single lamp casting shadows across his face. “There was an incident here,” he starts, voice low, tinged with a hint of something like regret or maybe fear. “An eros batch got out of control.”
“Eros…” Gunnar says. “The drug that’s making people crazy?”
“One and the same,” Nero says. “It enhances sexual pleasure in most cases…but if you take too much, well…”
“It causes ‘incidents’?” Gunnar’s brow furrows, skepticism lacing his tone.
“Mmhm,” Nero takes a sip of his drink. “Incidents engineered to get me killed. Some guy was given enough to drive him nuts, and he killed two people in my house.”
“Overdose?” I ask.
“More than an overdose,” Nero continues, ignoring the interruption. “It was sabotage. And I think Caius is behind it.”
Oberon reaches over to take my hand, and I know he’s remembering when he was under the influence of eros. It was scary…and it took a lot of work to get him off it. “I know the stuff,” he says. “It’s dangerous.”
