Page 24 of Taste of Blood

Figures. Who told you to look into it?

No one. I did it because I care about you.

There’s nothing for a few minutes, then he finally replies.

Fine. What do you got?

Smyth has a property out in Staten Island My guess is that’s where he’s been.

Address?

This is my chance, and I’m not going to let it get away.

Not so fast. I’m coming with you.

No.

Sorry, it doesn’t work that way.

Goddamn it, Asher, this doesn’t concern you.

It does now. Take it or leave it.

He leaves me on read for several minutes, during which time I buzz Elaine to have her tell Benjimen to bring the car around.

I’m at your building now. Meet me out front in twenty minutes.

See you then.

It may not be an ideal date, but I’ll do whatever it takes to spend time with him. Besides, it’s not like I’m helpless. I’ve trained to defend myself, though I don’t expect Smyth to be much of a problem for Cord. I take a minute to snap some pictures of the documents in the folder on Smyth before heading out.

11: Cord

HOW DID I let myself get talked into this? I work alone. The last thing I need is someone tagging along on a hunt, especially if that someone is Asher.

For one thing, he’s not qualified. He’s a businessman, for Christ sakes.

The more concerning part, however, is he’s a distraction. I may not want to admit it, but I care about him and worry if he’s put in danger. And I don’t know what kind of threat this asshole Smyth poses.

I should’ve known Asher would take it upon himself to dig into Smyth. He never could mind his own business. His SUV pulls up as I’m exiting the building, and I groan inwardly as I watch him get out. Impeccable, as usual. He’s going on a hunt dressed like James Bond.

I don’t say anything as we get into my car, watching him out of the corner of my eye as I start it up and ease out into traffic. Finally I can’t stand it any longer.

“What gives you the right to look into my job?”

He turns to me and offers that smug smile I want to punch off his face. “You could just say thank you.”

I could, but then I’d be admitting I needed his help. Which, apparently, I did. Because let’s face it, I never would have found out about this second property on my own. Dante didn’t even know about it.

“Thank you,” I grit out. “Since I’m sure that’s not the extent of your meddling, what else did you find out?”

He pulls out his phone and opens a document and starts reading me a history of how Smyth, aka, Pascal, was a dirtbag from his childhood and has left a trail of bodies across four states.

“Jesus, how the fuck did the Clan sanction this guy?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Asher replies. “I’ve got some feelers out, not that it matters right now. The important thing is to stop him before he kills again.”

I bite my tongue to keep from saying what I’m thinking–he sounds like Dante. Something tells me Asher wouldn’t appreciate the comparison. “So where did you get this information?” I ask instead, wondering how he was able to find out stuff Dante’s guys couldn’t.