“What does that mean?”
“Nothing for you to ponder on now only if—”
“You’ll be fine.” There was such conviction in Bastian’s voice that I knew it was more for his sake than mine.
After all this time, he wasn’t used to being on his own. Neither of us knew what to do. We both had our masters whether we admitted it or not. And maybe I should feel guilt for guiding him into hell with me, but all I felt was grateful that I wasn’t alone anymore.
When we stepped outside, I cursed the warm weather since I wasn’t used to it. Waiting next to a Rubicon was Julian with his right hand, Lobo. Julian Junior was young, and I wondered just how ruthless he really was. He wasn’t overly tall but not too short, with light caramel skin and big brown eyes framed with long curly lashes. He had the appeal of the boy next door, when he was anything but innocent. His bodyguard was dark skinned with a shaved head and tattoos on his neck and arms.
Smiling at them, I walked straight to the car they were leaning against. Lobo got into the driver’s seat, and I took the one behind him while Julian sat next to him. Before Bastian could get in, Gideon was sliding into the seat next to me.
The smell of methanol mixed with Chanel’s Allure filled my senses. It was something classy mixed with a hint of wild that made it so alluring. Ignoring his presence, I focused on the drive, knowing Bas would try to go in Sergio’s or Rivera’s car to try to get more information.
“Tell me, morra, other than Russian, English, and Spanish, what other languages do you speak?” Julian turned around, giving me a grin.
“Well, there’s Mandarin Chinese, Arabic, Hindi,” Gideon answered for me.
And I’m about to get reacquainted with my Italian. Of course, I wasn’t going to say that aloud; instead, I gave Gideon a coy smile before I spoke. “I didn’t realize you were an encyclopedia on all things Daphne.”
“Oh, Petal, there’s tons you don’t know about me.” The wicked grin in Gideon’s face made my lower stomach recoil tightly. I could feel how wound up it got me. I was like a blind knot, and the only way to fix it was to make it snap. Then again, the grin on Gideon’s face promised to show me a few things I didn’t know about him, and whether I liked it or not, I needed him.
Leaning close to him, I whispered in a sultry voice that was almost a moan, “Maybe you could show me.”
Gideon kept his face blank so the two men in the front wouldn’t know the effect I had on him, but we both knew better. The flare of his nostrils, the bobbing of his throat, and his shallow breathing all told me what he was too proud to say. My babushka told me a long time ago that if I was going to fuck a man, I might as well get something in return for it, whether it be an orgasm or a picture of proof I needed.
“Have your northern wolves given you any more trouble?” I cocked my face to the side so Julian could see me better. Deliberately, I bit my lower lip and watched as he raked his eyes over my lips, then lower to my breast.
“Mate.” Gideon clasped a tattooed hand on Julian’s shoulder. “I suggest you don’t play with fire when it comes to this one. She tends to leave a bloody mess.”
“Everyone loves a bit of wickedness now and then,” I taunted both men. Julian was eating from the palm of my hands; Gideon not so much.
His whiskey eyes darkened, and he leaned a bit into my space, engulfing me with his smell. “Petal.” He purred the fucking nickname in a gravelly voice that did funny things to my body. “You don’t know the meaning of a little wickedness. You straight up relish living in chaos.”
Touché. I gave a slight nod and watched as our jeeps went deeper into the Colombian jungle.
Colombia’s paramilitary groups fought to better their country from corrupt politicians. Both sides fought with lead and paid with powder. The coke trade was their moneymaker, and as much as they hated the Mexicans, they needed them to flood the United States with their white powder.
Escobar couldn’t have known the Pandora’s box he was opening when he unleashed cocaine into the world. Tents were set up all around camp, men in military outfits patrolling while the workers packed the product. As soon as the car parked, Bastian was on my side, helping me get out. No matter the training I gave him, he still tended to worry. I needed to keep reminding myself he was fresh.
“Pasenle, pasenle, estan voz esta en su casa. Como le gusto la selba nena?” Come, come, you’re at home. How did you like the jungle, babe? Sergio put a hand to my lower arm and led me to the center of his operation. With casual ease, I glanced around. After all, I was here on Sekten orders. Sergio didn’t need to know that I was gauging how far away his men were stationed from each other. What kind of weapons they had or the fact that the trees to the west left a blind spot from the other side of camp, leaving them vulnerable to an attack. No one was that stupid to make an attack like the one I planned.
I’d like to think I wasn’t stupid, but my decisions tended to say otherwise.
“La Sekta le gustara saber que todo esta en orden.” The Sekt would like to know everything is in order. The Sekt was the best at everything they did. There was no denying that. My great-grandmother had learned from the mistakes of her father. She’d discovered the flaw in men, the blindness power caused. All that blindness was the downfall of their empire. She taught my mother the art of men, to seduce with words and not just the body, to feed them lies and let them see what they wanted. I was trained to be a weapon.
Men quickly thought me stupid. It wasn’t until they saw death in my face that they realized their mistake. Unfortunately for me, the man whose eyes were boring into me didn’t underestimate me one bit. I could get drunk on his gaze alone, and I wouldn’t be easily fooled again.
“You know what I don’t understand?” I whispered low enough for Sergio to hear me. “Why is the Rivera cartel here? We both know that with the Sekt alone, you won’t need their contacts to cross snow into the united states.”
Sergio smiled at me, his dead eyes sparking with a fire of death. “The same reason you’re here. Manten a tus amigos cercas…”
Keep your enemies closer.
Sergio turned his back to me and walked away. Like me, he knew the Sekt could be his biggest ally but also their deadliest enemy. With agents all over the world, you never knew when they would strike.
“Should I start making you guys best-friends-forever charm bracelets? That looked like it went well.” Bastian stood next to me, full of humor.
“He’s not the complete idiot we thought he was. That reminds me, I need you to hire men.”
“But I’m not allowed to bring anyone into the Sekt yet.”
Bas hadn’t paid his dues; he hadn’t bled for the cause he was still being tested for. And I was only allowed to bring someone once every four years. It was a rule that had been set early, one ensuring that not one person would hold too much power.
Ideology was a beautiful thing to have. Too bad it was just that—an idea.
“They will be your personal guard.” I led Bastian away from the soldiers, walking around closer to the blind spot in the camp. “Remember what I told you in New York?” Bas’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. We both knew how much pain it caused him to be reminded of her and his stupidity. Bas learned the hard way that you couldn’t trust anyone, and family was just a word and nothing more. “It’s just a matter of time before they chose the next city to open shop at.”