Page 44 of Shai

Wyatt’s head shake was so vehement that it was a wonder the car’s suspension withstood it. “Course not. They know better than that. They know he’s your property.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, do we? The only problem will be if I catch them with their cock down Elijah’s throat. You might want to pass the message on that if that happens, it wouldn’t be him that I hold responsible.”

Wyatt’s nod bordered on sheepish, and he looked like he was sorry for raising the subject in the first place.

“What are you going to do with him?”

I turned to face Taylor, who’d voiced the question. “What do you

mean?”

“When the novelty of sex wears off, what are your plans for him?” Wyatt’s voice came from the back seat. “We can always throw him back

in the river for you, just say the word.”

My hands curled into fists around the steering wheel. “I’ll hold you to

that.”

Silence enveloped the car again until a figure rounded the bend, his gaze

darting left and right, yet somehow missing us parked across the other side of the street. Amateur! “Is that him?”

Taylor leaned forward to get a better look. “Yep, that’s him.” We continued to observe as he stepped back into the shelter of a

doorway, two figures—a man and a woman—approaching immediately from the opposite direction. There was a brief conversation, an obvious exchange of goods and money, and then his customers disappeared back the way they’d come, the two of them giggling like schoolchildren.

Taylor’s fingers beat a restless rhythm on the dashboard as another

client took the place of the couple, the same process happening. “What do you wanna do with him? Wanna keep him? He could be a replacement for Elijah when we throw him back in the river.”

I let my gaze travel over the man. Young. Younger than Elijah. If I was

forced to hazard a guess, I’d have put him somewhere in his early twenties. From this distance, and with the dim light, it was hard to make out the color of his hair, and I had no hope of ascertaining eye color. Fairly good looking, his body lean and muscled, the tight jeans he wore clinging in all the right places. “No.”

Taylor quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure. He—” My patience ran out. I gave both men a lot of leeway, particularly

Taylor, but I had my limits. “I said, no, didn’t I? Need me to say it in other languages in order for you to be able to understand it? Non, net, nu, nein! Clear enough, yet?”

Taylor sat back in his seat, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry, Shai. I was just trying to help. Message received and understood.” He inclined his head toward the punk on the corner, who was talking into a phone clutched to his ear, the conversation seeming heated. “Want me and Wyatt to handle it?”

I reached for the door handle. “No, both of you stay here. Don’t come over until I give you the signal.” It wasn’t the usual procedure, and I could tell that Taylor was itching to question the directive, but he seemed to have decided that he’d questioned me enough for one day.

The problem with treating my employees like humans rather than trained monkeys was that it always carried a risk of them getting ideas above their station. It was probably time for some sort of reminder back at the compound, that their place at my side wasn’t guaranteed.

Slamming the door of the car shut, I took my time in crossing the road to get to my target. I could feel his eyes on me, his scrutiny an attempt to weigh me up before I reached him, to have the measure of me. I pulled the collar of my jacket up around my neck to ward off the sting of the cold night air as I came to a stop in front of him, my posture as relaxed and unthreatening as I could make it. “Friend told me you had some good stuff.”

He raised his chin, his eyes that were in fact pale gray, tinged with suspicion. “What friend? They normally let me know if they’ve passed on my details to someone else.” He leaned close, the scent of garlic crossing the divide between us. “Got to be careful, you know how it goes.”

“You mean because of Shai?”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Yeah, fucker doesn’t like people on his patch. Seems to think there’s not enough money to go ‘round.”

“Have you ever seen him?”

He let out a strangled laugh. “Think I’d still be standing here if I had?”