Page 26 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

I pretend to consider while my mind races through options.

I could flash my badge and threaten to lock him up for the rest of his life if he doesn’t talk.

But that’s risky. What if he clams up? What if he runs straight to one of the mobsters around here to spill that we’re poking around? Worse, what if he tips off Rafael?

No. Intimidation is the wrong tactic with this guy .

I force another smile as I reach for my wallet. “How much for a dozen bags?” I ask, voice honey-sweet.

His rheumy eyes light up like I’ve just offered him the keys to Fort Knox. “Tell you what—since you’re buyin’ in bulk, I’ll give you a promo deal. Six for fifty bucks. Best price you’ll find on these streets.”

I nod sagely and pull out four $50 bills. “How about I give you all these? But I don’t want sour deez. I’m after a different type of drug.”

He studies me, recalculating. “You want something with more kick? Ecstasy, coke?”

I wave him closer, and when he obliges, I whisper in his ear. “I have a diabetic friend who needs Ozempic. Word on the street is there’s a supplier dealing that kind of medication around here.”

Katie catches on instantly and subtly positions herself behind our new friend, boxing him in. But he’s too focused on me to notice.

“Make it five hundred, and I’ll lead you right to my guy’s doorstep. That’s his forte.”

“Now you’re just being greedy,” Katie murmurs, pressing her concealed gun into his lower back beneath her coat.

The dealer goes rigid, eyes darting wildly as he finally grasps the situation.

We’re still casual-looking enough that passersby would assume we’re just doing a shady deal—nothing new around here.

And if anyone does suspect foul play, well…

this is New York. People don’t get involved unless it’s personal.

“You get to keep your drugs, your life, and walk away two hundred richer. I’d say that’s a pretty sweet deal, wouldn’t you?” I ask coolly, and he gulps. “What’s your name?”

“Boa,” he mutters, face sour, his eyes still shifting around for a possible way out of this.

“Listen to me, Boa. We don’t want to harm you. We genuinely just need the meds for our friend. So take us to your supplier, collect your money, and walk away. But if we suspect foul play at any point, your life isn’t guaranteed.”

“I want a hundred upfront,” he demands, fixing me with a look that says he’s still trying to salvage some control over the situation. Too late for that.

“You get nothing until I’m sure you’re not leading us into a trap,” I counter, holding his gaze without blinking.

A slow smirk crawls across his face, and I glimpse something like respect glinting in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, beauty. But I can’t say no to that face.” He makes revolting kissing noises, and I recoil in disgust.

“Start walking.” Katie jabs her gun harder against his pine, and Boa grins as he complies.

Surprisingly, he leads us to a run-down vehicle parked half a block down. I eye the battered car warily—it looks like it might fall apart any second. “What is this?”

“Carlo’s your guy for those drugs. He’s got a shop in Midtown. Unless you two wanna walk there in this freezing-ass weather? Think you can make it?”

Katie and I share another glance, and she gives a slight nod. The walk would be less than three miles, but it might get tricky trying to get there on foot while keeping the gun trained on Boa.

“I’ll drive,” Katie tells him. “You can give me directions from the passenger seat.”

As she speaks, I’m already taking a pair of handcuffs out of my coat pocket.

“Kinky.” Boa wiggles his brows at me, but I ignore his pathetic attempt as I secure his wrists. He doesn’t even resist—just grins like he’s enjoying the game—and slides into the passenger seat without a fuss.

I get in behind him, eying him suspiciously as I press my own gun to his side. Just in case he gets any bright ideas .

The drive is mercifully short, about five minutes of Boa giving directions and Katie navigating potholed streets.

My pulse quickens as we pull up in front of a run-down grocery store.

“Is this seriously the right place?” The building looks more likely to sell expired milk than black market pharmaceuticals.

“What? You expected a neon sign flashing ‘Illegal Meds Sold here’?” Boa asks sassily.

“I’ll go check it out,” Katie says, turning off the ignition. “You two stay here.”

I nod my agreement, and she gets out.

“Ask for Carlo. Tell him you’re from Boa. Might get you a little discount… or a slap across the cheek. Depends on what mood he’s in really.” Boa shrugs. Katie answers by slamming the car door, drawing a chuckle from our captive dealer. “Now it’s just the two of us, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I drive the gun harder into his flesh, and to his credit, he actually listens.

But Katie is in there longer than expected. Ten minutes turn into twenty, then thirty. And with every passing minute, the colder the car gets.

I clench my teeth to prevent them from chattering, but there’s nothing I can do about the violent shivers rippling down my spine for the third consecutive time.

“I could k–keep you w–arm, you know,” Boa offers through his own trembling.

I don’t waste energy responding.

The windows are all rolled up, but the heater is dead. Which means the only thing protecting us from the harsh cold is the thin scrap of metal this car calls a frame. The sky has already gone gray, thick with the kind of clouds that promise more snow tonight.

Finally, the grocery door opens and Katie steps out. She signals me with a subtle gesture, and I immediately withdraw my gun from Boa’s side and get out of the car, my joints stiff from cold and tension.

Not one to go back on my word, I take out the two hundred dollars and toss the bills onto Boa’s lap as I leave.

“Hey! What about the cuffs?” he calls after me, twisting awkwardly to hold up his bound wrists.

I stop, then double back and toss the key onto his lap next to the cash.

His colorful curses follow me as I hurry to Katie’s side. “Please tell me you got something good.”

“The Nightshades’ dirty paws are all over this scheme,” she grumbles.

Of course they are. I doubt an operation as big as this could ever be this successful without them being involved.

“What did you find?”

“The Nightshades aren’t just the major distributors of these medications—they are the only suppliers,” she answers, shaking her head a little.

What?