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Ares stretches, pretending comfort. I can tell he’s ready to spring into action, though.
“The trucks can sit where they are parked for some time. So we’re not looking to offload some corn before it goes bad. If you’re looking for a bargain, I think you may need to shop around.”
He starts to push himself up from the table. I gesture for him to stay put. He stops, thinks it over for a moment, and then resettles himself. He gives me a hard look, but I clasp my hands on the table in front of me.
Tell us what you are offering in exchange for our trucks.” I pause for a second. “Do not waste our time, Lazlo.”
Lazlo drums his fingers on the table, licking his lips. “I have been dispensed half a million dollars for the transaction.”
“What the fuck?” Ares stands, glaring at Eros. “Ye said that he was worth listening to. What kind of paltry-ass shit is half a million?”
“There is more.” Eros adjusts his seat, uncomfortable. “Tell him what else, Lazlo.”
“Ah.” Lazlo smiles, flashing a couple of gold teeth. “I also have a piece of information that I think you’ll like.”
“Not interested. We have enough sources feeding us information.” I shoot an annoyed look at Eros and lumber to my feet. “Why the fuck did you arrange this?”
“You should listen,” Eros says, jerking his head toward Lazlo.
I look at the twitchy separatist, cocking my head. “Do you know where Constantine is?”
A puzzled look crosses his face. “Who?”
“This is a waste of my fucking time.” I turn, pushing my chair out of the way as noisily as possible.
One single word stops me from barreling out of the bar.
“Persephone.”
I hesitate, turning back on Lazlo with a glower. “What did you just say?”
He clears his throat, standing up.
“Word on the street is that you are looking for where someone might be holding a girl named Persephone. And I happen to possess an address that I think will please you.”
It only takes me a moment to lurch over to him, grab him by the shirt, and put my face right in front of his. From this close, I can see Lazlo break out into a sweat.
“Where?” I demand to know.
“Easy,” Lazlo says, prying his shirt from my grip. “We have some details to see to first.”
“Hades don’t believe this guy. He is definitely high as a kite, blowing smoke rings and hoping that you will be a fool enough to fall under his spell.” Ares puts a hand on my shoulder, which I fling off.
“Don’t,” I warn him. I look at Lazlo. “If ye don’t give up the address right now, it’ll be your last decision, because I’ll fucking gut ye.”
I reach for my waistband, a district threat.
Lazlo gulps but doesn’t back down. “Do we have a deal?”
“Hades, I’m telling you—"
“Fuck off.” I focus all my attention on Lazlo. My heartbeat pounds like a drummer on cocaine. “Aye, ye asshole. We have a deal. Eros, go get the damn papers.”
Ares throws his hands up, storming out of the bar. Eros follows him, leaving me alone with the Hungarian.
He takes a seat, his body language still strung as a notched arrow. He gestures to the seat next to his.
“Sit. Soon we will have signed the papers. You will give me the address of the trucks… and then I will give you the address of the girl. Yes?”
