The Dream Crafter(37)
That statement had Laire digging in her heels once again. “You drug me all the way here, and now you’re ditching me? What are you doing?”
“Nothing fancy, only setting up Plan C.” Fallon gestured down with one finger at Laire’s boots, lifting an eyebrow and being very clear with the unspoken message quit stalling or I’m getting rid of the shoes.
You wouldn’t dare.
Watch me.
Unspoken messages rocked, because Laire started moving again with only a small huff to signal her defeat. “Whatever. I don’t care what letter of the alphabet it is next time, I am not coming to any more meetings with that man, understand?”
“Let’s see, what is Griffith? Granted, he’s short to me, but to you he’s a giant. He’s brilliant, loads of money, controls more secrets than most nations, leads the most feared spying and thieving and unofficial more organization in the Realms. Looks are subjective, but consensus seems to be he’s good looking, and I’d place a money bet he’d assassinate a world leader to hold your hand. Yeah, how could I subject you to such torture?”
Laire paused to point, emphasizing every word with the sharp jab of her finger. “This isn’t for discussion, and I don’t want to hear anymore. Me and him will never happen, and quit using me to further your own goals.”
Fallon let Laire stomp away for a few steps – as much as anyone could stomp in shoes like that – before calling out, “Protest all you want, but I will go down with this ship…hey! Hey! Anyone ever tell you that isn’t very ladylike?”
*
Griffith stood watch as the women left, his gaze lingering on Laire and giving Fallon only enough attention to be sure she wasn’t up to something. Once they were clear, Griffith said, “Talon.”
A man appeared, his boneless posture and long trench coat shielding his exact height and body dimensions, green eyes and blond hair both dark, the hair hanging about his face is a careless fashion that suggested roguish and not unwashed. “Boss.”
“Go to ground. I want Hadrien now, and price is no object.”
“Should I wait to hear from you about what price Kyo will pay before I start handing out money or favors?”
The women disappeared, going to wherever next, and now Griffith gave Talon his full attention. “We aren’t giving Hadrien to the Guild. We’re keeping him.”
For the first time in the discussion, Talon’s boneless disinterest was disturbed, his shoulders pushing back as curiosity took hold. “And why would that be? Hadrien’s still a nothing, even if he’s currently pissing all over the Guild.”
“It’s not Hadrien. It’s what he’s key to.” Griffith began to move out of the wooded area, his body taking on purpose and speed the more he talked. “Fallon contacting me not to go after Merc but to get Hadrien means the rumors of a bound are true, and knowing Hadrien, the bound is mortal. We control Hadrien, we control Merc’s fate.”
“We letting Merc die?” There was no censure or outrage over the possibility. There was only Talon asking how to best follow his leader’s directions.
“Merc’s a fucking brick of an opponent, and I’d be a fool not to take advantage of this.” They arrived at a large, open field where a chopper, wide-handled and low seated, awaited. Griffith swung onto the bike and started the engine, waiting until the bike was purring under him to finish his conversation. “I’m taking Hadrien out of the picture. If Merc’s as good as he should be, he’ll figure out a way to get clear of this mess. If not, he knows the rules of the game.”
“The Guild won’t be happy with you over this.”
Griffith kicked up the kickstand, balancing the bike and ready to ride away. “The Guild understands the concept of collateral damage.”
Chapter Twenty
‡
“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best way to break the two-hour silence Amana had been traveling in with Merc, but she was tired. She was tired physically after a long night where she was only able to sleep in hour long segments before Merc roused her into coherency, then allowing her to go back to sleep, only for the cycle to continue. She was tired mentally after the push-pull of believing that she was safe before she discovered she was at someone else’s mercy, then this hot-cold-hot cycle with Merc – with the thrill of being back with the Merc and their sharing last night, only to find when she woke this morning his eyes blanked and the mercenary before her once again.
She was tired, and to hell with all this uncertainty.
“Because I believe you.”