Chapter 7 #2
“Have you ever seen this before?” I ask, pointing again at the mark, wanting to convince myself of what exactly it means.
Silver stutters. “I’ve seen the symbols.
It’s Ares’s mark. I’ve just never seen anyone wear it before.
Not even as a tattoo. He forbade it. One of the guys tried to get it inked on his arm, and Ares threatened to cut his arm off if he went through with it.
He said he’s the only one worthy of wearing it.
” Silver stares a little longer. “I still don’t get how he allowed you to have that. ”
Well, I don’t get it either, but since I’m living and breathing, I suspect I’m on the right track.
After four days, I convince Silver I’m ready to go back to work, and it’s only then does she inform me Ares has a job for me. In a way, she’s probably right. If I’d found out earlier, I would’ve convinced her a couple of days ago, and probably screwed things up.
I head to Elysium, unsure where I should begin.
Do I start serving drinks again? Or should I just wait at the bar like everyone else for Ares to give me an order?
Don’t want to seem too bold, so I don’t piss him off, but I don’t want to seem like I’m backing down either.
Which leaves me with pretty much just one option since Ares is already in.
He’s at his usual table, lounging in a leather armchair with his phone in one hand and whiskey in the other.
I walk straight to him, trying to maintain a sheepish attitude, maybe even a hint of repentance in my voice. “You’ve asked to see me,” I say.
He ignores me at first. But then his eyes lift from his phone, looking straight at me.
“I’m busy right now. Wait until I call for you.” He drops his gaze back to his phone, dismissing me.
I don’t have a choice but to do what he says, so I get myself a Coke, then take a seat at a table. I could use something stronger, but I’m not sure if drinking would be the best look.
I watch him scroll through his phone, send out a million texts—or whatever the hell he’s doing—then just order another whiskey and scan the room, like he’s studying everyone here.
I figure he’s waiting for a meeting. People usually come here to see him, but today, he doesn’t seem to be doing shit except for toying with my head.
Busy my ass. He’s just stalling me, testing my patience.
He’s trying to teach me who’s boss.
A few of the other men approach him, probably discussing different businesses, and somehow, he finds time for all of them.
Oh, I’m pissed off now. And I stay pissed off for three straight hours before he finally decides to speak to me.
He signals me from across the room, and I pray to everything that I can hide the burning intensity in my gaze. I could kill him right now just for thinking I’d ever be his toy.
Still, I can’t deny his summons. I need this. Whatever it is. Whatever he’s offering. So, I walk up to him again, this time claiming the empty chair at his table.
“You don’t like to be kept waiting, do you?” he asks, his voice as rough as the edges of a rock.
“I can be patient if that’s what’s needed of me.”
“So, you’ll do whatever is needed of you, won’t you?” His tone, darker this time.
I glare at him, biting back a retort. But the truth is, I’d do anything to find Elias’s killer. “You’ve already laid your claim,” I murmur, leaning in, letting him know I realize the mark means more than just a job.
“I guess I did, didn’t I, Little Curse,” he murmurs, catching one of my loose ebony curls and winding it around his fingers.
His gaze drops to my lips as his tongue brushes over his own.
And I don’t want it to affect me, but it does.
His gesture sparks something in my body I’ve never felt before.
It’s like I’m burning from the inside, and he’s either the only thing that could keep me from combusting, or the one sent to stoke the flames.
“So, what is it that you want from me?” I press, eager to get to the bottom of whatever this is between us. I don’t like his games. His games are dangerous. His games could draw me in, distract me from the only thing I came here to claim—revenge.
“I’m willing to give you a second chance,” he says, leaning in just to pull my chair along with me next to him.
“I don’t give second chances,” he whispers against the skin of my neck, his lips brushing somewhere close to my ear.
“I have a job for you. It’s a change of plan, but I think you can make it work.
” His hot breath brushes against my skin, and I feel my nipples pebbling inside my bra.
“But if you fuck this up, there’s no telling what I will do to you,” he murmurs in the shell of my ear, and the force of his words sends molten heat flooding my veins.
I press my legs together to stop the sheer dominance radiating off him from claiming my core, but the damn thing is already anguished by it.
He suddenly leans back in his seat, knowing that his threat has landed, but surely unaware just how much of an effect it really had on me.
“I need you to track down one of my hackers, 404. Rumor is he’s about to skip town.
I need him alive. And I need it fast. He’s been spending his nights in Fremont, hitting the bars there.
” He picks up his phone, and mine buzzes with the details.
I never gave him my number, but I suspect he got it from Silver, or probably my employment file.
So, I don’t ask him about it. No need to look dumb—or feed his ego because there’s enough of that already.
I’m about to get up and leave when he grabs my hand, pulling me in closer to him, the heat of his body dangerously close to mine. “Don’t. Fuck. This. Up,” he warns, ending with a groan that resounds for minutes to come… And not just in my ears.
He then releases my hand, and I pull back as he orders another whiskey, like he wasn’t ready to rip my throat out a second ago.
“I won’t,” I say, pushing back my chair, then getting the hell out of there and straight to chase the man who has just become my mission.