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Ariadne snorted. "Sounds too idealistic to be true."
"I'm sure it does to a woman raised by a monster. We are monster hunters, Spindle. Destroy our monster, and we will destroy yours."
"I'm not dumb enough to take you at your word. For all I know, you are Minos trying to fuck with me and test my loyalty."
"There will be another package delivered to you within the hour. You have until sunrise tomorrow to give us your final answer. Consider what a life of freedom is worth to you."
Ariadne knew she should call Minos straight away, tell him that some jerk gang called Pithos was out to fuck with his business.
Instead, she drained her coffee, stuck the phone into the back pocket of her jeans, and went out. If another package was going to turn up in the next hour, she was going to make sure she saw the face of the person doing the delivery.
"By the saints, I thought you'd died, it's been so long since I've seen you," Dimmi said as Ariadne made it to the food van permanently parked across the road. Dimmi was probably the closest thing she had to a female friend, so Ariadne made a point of giving her business at least once a week. Their friendship was another weakness, like the apartment, but one that she was determined to keep.
"Dim, I was here three days ago. Stop drinking on the job," Ariadne said as she took the bottle of juice Dimmi gave her through the van's serving window.
"My darling, I'm not drinking. I miss seeing your beautiful face. You want your usual?"
"Sure," said Ariadne.
Ten minutes later, Dimmi's curves appeared out the back door of the van, and she sauntered over to the plastic table Ariadne sat at. Dressed in a leopard print dress with her curling black hair pinned up in a perfect sex kitten look, Ariadne knew most of Dimmi's customers weren't interested in her cooking.
"Here you go; veggie kebab with extra hot sauce. You look like you need it."
"Thanks a lot," said Ariadne, with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm serious. Do youeversleep?" Dimmi lit a cigarette and eyed her critically.
"Not well," Ariadne admitted before having a bite of her kebab. The Temple had only fed them strict vegan meals with no sugar or salt, and when she had finally got the chance to eat spice, Ariadne thought she'd die from sensory overload.
"This lack of sleep better not be because of a fucking man. I would advise you to move to women, but they are just as crazy. My last girlfriend stole my good GHD hair straightener and sliced up my favorite dress before she left. Bitch. At least men wouldn't think to steal your hair styling products when you dump them," Dimmi said sourly.
I wouldn't know.
Ariadne had a few brief messy encounters until she found better results doing it on her own. She had occasionally slept with a target to get close enough to kill them, but a real, adult relationship was beyond her experience.
"All sounds way too hard to me," Ariadne admitted. She didn't hear what Dimmi said in reply, as all her focus zeroed in on a bike messenger. She took out her new phone and took a shot of him as he came out of the building.
"Stalker much? What's that poor kid done to earn that death glare from you?" Dimmi demanded.
"Nothing. Some jerk keeps putting creepy messages in my mailbox, and I want to find out who."
"Guys are the worst. At least he hasn't started sending you photos of his dick."
"Not yet, anyway."
"If he does, we'll make a wall of shame, right here." Dimmi pointed at the blank, pink side of the van. "If he's a local, it's bound to flush him out."
Ariadne laughed loud enough for people to turn and stare. "Thanks, Dimmi. I'll keep it in mind."
Ariadne finished off her meal and an espresso before heading back into her building. A box was waiting for her, and when she opened it, she found a thin silver laptop.
"You guys love your tech, don't you," Ariadne said as she turned on the power button. She had to admit it was the smarter way to do it. If you had that much information on a hit, then you didn't want to carry about piles of paper. Handwriting could be tracked, so could the type of paper used if you were desperate. Digital files were traceable, but if Pithos had the stones to go up against Minos, then Ariadne doubted they'd give over anything that could be traced.
There was a single folder on the desktop, and when she opened it, the first thing she clicked on was a photo of the sexiest guy she'd ever seen.
Broad-shouldered and ridiculously tall, the guy had olive-brown skin, sun-streaked dark hair that fell past his shoulders in lazy waves and a short, clipped beard. Even dressed in an expensive suit, he seemed an unlikely candidate for a corporate manager or a banker.
"Gods, aren't you the prettiest contract I've ever been offered," Ariadne told the photo as she clicked open more files.
