Page 7 of Lovely Venom

Rhys opens it, his tall, lanky body curving around the bend. “Stairs. Looks like they lead to the apartment.”

“Wonderful.” I don’t even want to think about what nightmares are unfolding up there.

A door to the stockroom at the end of the hallway yawns open by just a crack. Guns drawn, we creep that way.

“Are we taking out the DEA agent?” Rhys whispers.

“I think that’s the right move here.” I try to see inside the stockroom. “That puts Noel in our debt.”

The elongated shape of the room provides clear access to where two men are having a heated conversation or a last-minute negotiation. By the guy’s white-blond hair and shocking green eyes, it must be Havok, the legendary and ruthless dealer. I thought he dealt for the Colombians, but he’s working for the Albanians, apparently.

I search for the DEA agent and get a tiny thrill when I see movement behind a pallet stacked with crates of booze.

I raise my gun to take the fucker out.

On a warm breeze from an open window, I expect a sharp bite of male sweat. Instead, a whiff of cinnamon apple shampoo hits me. I fucking freeze, recognizing that tangy smell.

My olfactory system goes on red alert, and I shift my position to get a better look at who I’m about to kill. My heart stops, seeing a long golden braid and the outline of a jaw I’d recognize anywhere. When emerald-green eyes turn my way, I step back into the shadow.

It’s her.

Her.

The woman who’s been haunting my thoughts, my dreams, and stripping me of my goddamn sanity is pointing a loaded Glock at Havok. She turns her bodyagain just enough for me to see white bold letters stretched across the back of her external bulletproof vest.

DEA.

Air freezes in my lungs.What the fuck?

“No shot,” I whisper, smashing my head into the wall behind me.

“I got the shot,” Rhys whispers, but lifts his head from the scope. “It’s a fucking woman?”

My blood turns to ice, and I push Rhys’s arm down with the force of a man on drugs. “Don’t.”

“She’s back there.” The sound of a sinister voice coming down the stairs from the apartment jolts me.

I pull Rhys into a dark corner and listen carefully. With Slavic accents and no visible faces, I can’t place them.

“Are we taking her?” a different voice asks, referring tomywoman.

That makes them my enemy, too. Shite, this list is getting long.

“That’s what the boss wants,” the first guy whines like he’s bored.

Fucking traffickers. I will cut my wrists before I let the Albanians take her.

“What’s the plan here, Connor?” Rhys mutters. “Am I shooting everyone?”

Seems like the logical thing to do, but committing mass murder with no exit strategy will have Griffin cutting my wrists first.

“Wait a goddamn minute, Rhys,” I grumble.

The two dudes stop at the stockroom door, and the first one grinds out anxiously, “V saidhe’dget her when he was ready.”

“Tahiri doesn’t trust him,” the other guy argues, and then looks down the hallway. “Where the fuck is Goran?”

My eyes slip closed, guessing he’s asking about the bouncer we fucked up. They march that way, and I havea convenient diversion.