Page 18

“So, can we sit?” Rowan asks.

Trist watches me for a second too long before gesturing to the couch with a shrug.

“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you and your family, and I must admit I was surprised when your men called. Why would someone like you want to speak to someone like me? I’m barely anyone of note in the Ravens.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short,” Rowan says, sitting leisurely, arms spread over the back of the couch, enough so that he’s almost touching my shoulder. “You’re one of Moreau’s favourites.”

“It’s true what they say about you. A charmer,” Trist laughs. “But come on, Vasilyev, don’t bullshit me. What’s up?”

“I need some information, and I hear you’re the man who can help me.”

Trist smiles, his ego adequately stroked. “Okay, I’m listening. What can I possibly do for you?”

“A few nights ago, a man called Ramos bought a drug from one of your guys working our clubs. I want to know who is supplying it.”

I notice Avni’s eyes flicker to Trist as he leans in with a grin on his face. “Ah, of course. Haze. You’re not the first to come here, but unfortunately I cannot share that with you.”

My stomach drops.

“Why not?” Rowan asks.

“Because, although we exist in a peaceful time, I know how your family and The Snake work. You’re all like sharks with blood. Any opportunity to make more money for yourselves and leave the rest of us starving, you’ll take it.” He pauses. “I don’t think that serves those of us on this side of the river in any way, does it?”

I didn’t think getting an answer from Trist would be easy, but the way he’s sitting, leaning back, his legs spread open and a smirk on his face tells me he might be after something else.

“What’s your number?” Rowan asks, guessing the same thing.

I glance at him, and again, I’m curious about why he’s helping me. Trist is right about The Snake. They smell blood in the water, and they go after the source to rip it apart, but Rowan and his family do not do the legwork. There are a thousand other men who could speak to someone as low in the food chain as Trist.

Why is Rowan here personally?

“Oooh, the heir to The Snake himself is here to see little old me and offer me money. That must mean he’s desperate,” Trist says with a smile, like he read my mind.

“Or I’ve just heard a lot about you, and I wanted to meet you personally.”

Trist snorts. “Unlikely.”

This isn’t working. Trist can read Rowan’s game, and he’s not willing to play. If The Snake is interested in Haze, that just drives up its value and attracts unwanted attention. If Trist is really behind this, then that’s the last thing he’d want. He wants to protect his source.

We need another angle.

“Rumour has it that it might be dirty,” I say quickly. “That’s why we want to know who is supplying it. Either the product is bad, or it’s cut with some dangerous shit. If that’s true, the police will start sniffing around, and I don’t think I need to tell you how the OCU works. They don’t stop until they have something and if you’re tied to this, then that’s you taking the fall. You said it yourself, you’re not important enough for Moreau to protect you.”

Avni’s eyes snap to me before she quickly looks away. She definitely remembers me. A cold sweat runs down my back, but I tell myself to keep calm. She doesn’t know I’m a cop. Yet.

Next to me, Rowan glares but I ignore him.

Trist narrows his eyes. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” I clear my throat. “Like I said, it’s a rumour. So, if you’re behind this, it’s only a matter of time before the OCU is at your door. I’m sure they’d love it in here.”

Trist rubs the back of his neck, licking his lips. “I’m not behind it,” he says defensively.

“Then who is? Because both clans can’t risk anything going down right now.”

His eyes shift to Rowan uneasily. “Who did you say he is?”

Rowan smiles, and he almost looks relaxed, but I can see the tension in his shoulders and the way he balls his hand into a fist before unclenching again.