Page 78 of Barinov

“Who knows,” I mutter with a yawn.

Laing clears his throat. “We picked up chatter that The Lotus Market is opening tomorrow night.” He pauses and tosses a flash drive to Knox. “Right here in the city.”

Knox catches it, already booting up a laptop. “You’re kidding.”

“What’s a Lotus Market?” I ask, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “And why the fuck did you wake us up at the ass crack of dawn to talk about shopping?”

“This isn’t about shopping,” Knox corrects.

“It’s an elite, two-night trafficking auction,” Laing confirms.

The screen behind him lights up, revealing a map of Hong Kong with at least twenty red dots blinking across the coast. Each one has a name and a black-and-white photo of a girl beside it.

My stomach knots when I notice the name by the dot flashing in the top right corner.

Wei.

Shit.

Laing doesn’t wait for questions. “When I was a kid, they took my older sister. She was seventeen at the time. Grabbed her right out of her friend’s apartment.”

My gaze drops to his hands, twitching at his sides.

Fucker notices, pockets them, and continues. “We found her body in an alley a few months later. From what my father said, it looked like she ran. Whether it was from the Lotus Market or her buyer none of us know and…”

He pauses.

No one says a word.

“Whoever she ran from shot her in the back six times before she even made it to the street.”

“Oh my God,” Cade whispers beside me, reaching for my hand under the table.

Laing turns back to stare at the map. “Then a few months ago the Lotus Market came back through Hong Kong.” He exhales slowly. “This time they took my little sister, Meilin. Snatched her while she was walking out of school.”

He swallows and turns back to us. His hands find the edge of the table, knuckles bone-white by how hard he’s gripping the damn thing.

“We traced her to The Lotus Market, but by the time we got there it was closed. Vanished. Like it never fucking existed.”

He looks me in the eyes. “I’ve been looking for her ever since.”

Damn it. If you had told me yesterday that I’d ever find common ground with Tattooed fucking Dragon-Dick, I would have punched you square in the face. That’d I’d ever offer to help him? Shit.

“What do you need from us, Mortal—um,” I ask, my voice coming out rougher than it should. “Sorry. I mean.” I clear my throat. “What do you need from us, Laing?”

There’s a faint curve in the bastard’s lips at my hesitation on using his nickname.

“I need to get inside that market. Extract intel. Save who we can, but more importantly, identify the sellers.”

He pauses.

“I need to find her.” His voice cracks, but his posture stays rigid.

I nod.

Knox speaks up, breaking the silence as he scrolls through the files. “The market’s set to open tomorrow night at ten. Hotel off Canal in Chinatown.” He frowns. “That doesn’t give me much time to plan.”

“We’ve worked with less,” Nate adds, stepping away from the bar and taking a seat. He opens up his laptop, typing fast. “Laing, do you know if—”